Page 44 of Law Maker

Death was like shaving. He did it to remove an irritation, in the same vein he removed thick facial hair. He saw no distinction between both annoyances.

Replacing his coat, Lawless cleaned off his blade and tucked it away in one of his many pockets.

He remained over the body as a lake of blood gathered beneath the head, almost reaching Lawless’ thick soled durable biker boots.

He’d killed often and many, but this one had meaning.

This one soothed his singed soul.

He wouldn’t take it back to her as a gift, presented neatly in a tied ribbon.

One more gone and Lawless smirked at the mess on the ground.

No remorse.

No guilt.

He hadn’t killed for profit.

This kill was all for Lawless.

To appease the howling inside.

Taking one look back at the crumpled meat as he tracked through the small house. Whoever this guy belonged to; they were in for a sweet surprise when they got home.

“Debt cleared, motherfucker.”

It was time to go home to Colorado.

His list was shorter, but he still had a select few he’d left until last.

And then the big man.

Lawless expected death and retribution would come to him one day.

He was no choir boy.

You could take it to the bank he wouldn’t squeal like a fucking bad fish.

Redemption was only earned for a man who thought he’d done wrong.

Lawless was cut from a whole different kind of cloth. Because he didn’t covet the all elusive forgiveness for any of his crimes.

Each time he walked into the flames with his eyes wide open.

He felt good on the plane ride home.

So much so he fucked one of those bubbly plane bitches who handed out peanuts in the airport bathroom.

A man needed to celebrate his victories.

ELEVEN

“Bullet to the heart.” – Angela

Lawless didn’t stand on ceremony for anyone.

So when he pulled his matte silver Mustang up to the curb in front of the young couple with their heads together over a phone, he leaned a hand on the horn and made them spring apart. He rose a hand and beckoned Angela to get in with a motion of two fingers.

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