Authors: R.J. Lewis
“Don’t fucking do it,” he growled. “He’s going to make it out of this.”
“He’s not! They’re going to kill him.”
“He’ll be okay, I promise.”
“You can’t promise that! He won’t be okay.”
“He will. The Jackals care more about the business arrangement, and they need us. Don’t you dare try and leave. I don’t want to cuff you.” Then he reached over and opened the glove box.
I gave him a disgusted look when I saw the cuffs that sat therein. “You’ve got cuffs in your fucking car?” What the hell?
“Part of my job description,” he said defensively. “And a bit of personal pleasure on the side.” When I didn’t smile at his joke, he patted me on the shoulder. “Sara, he’ll be okay. I know it.”
He started the car and pulled out. Jaxon watched, still trying hard to smile, but my unconquerable man was worried. There was a weight behind his eyes as he cautiously scanned the streets around him. Why did my last image have to be of a man I loved who, plagued by exhaustion and saturated in another man’s blood, was waiting on an outcome he had no control of?
They’re going to kill him.
Manny watched him closely after he’d come back from another search. Fucker had been a livewire the last couple of days, combing over every goddamn fucking leaf in Gosnells trying to find them.
That fucking bitch. He should have listened to him. Manny bit back a snarl as Remy spoke on the phone in the furthest corner of the surveillance room. If he found that bitch before Remy did, he’d peel the skin off every inch of her. Her clear and utter betrayal was the last nail in the coffin. She was going into the ground, that deceiving stupid slut!
Pussy
, Manny scoffed to himself,
all of this over pussy.
He couldn’t understand it. Women were women. They were not to be put on a pedestal; they were meant to serve a purpose, and that was being on the end of his dick. He couldn’t understand the shit these pussy-whipped morons went through. The only man he’d ever seen do justice was his father who punched the daylights out of his mom for being the annoying shit she was. And now a woman gets touched and she screams domestic violence and gets every bit of good served to her on a silver platter; they were just a bunch of thirsty bitches vying for attention while they ruined the names of hard working men.
Remy, who’d been absurdly reserved since he’d found out about that slut’s betrayal, slammed the phone down.
“They got Jaxon,” his cold voice stated. “They saw him on his way to the bar. Just picked him up. He’s waiting in the car at the hunting estate.”
Manny widened his eyes in surprise. “What are you going to do?”
Remy’s face turned deadly as he looked over at Manny. “I’m going to cut his fucking head off.”
“And the girl?”
Something darker flashed in Remy’s eyes. Manny knew the look well. They didn’t call him Reaper for nothing. The things that man did to people…
“She’ll be dust when I’m done with her,” he gritted out.
Manny smiled. That bitch was like a cat – seven lives and all, dodging death as if it was going out of style. But she couldn’t hide from Remy. The man had a penchant for revenge and he never failed.
Manny was going to enjoy hearing her screams.
*****
The black SUV was parked along the side of the deserted road at a forest-backed hunting estate owned by Frank. When shit had to get done quietly, this was usually the Jackals’ destination.
Remy stopped his bike several yards behind the car and waited. His dark eyes roamed the sky and the sun pained his eyes; fuck, he was tired. So.Damn.Tired. And not just in the physical sense – though it was true after being up for over forty eight hours – but more mentally than anything else. Everything inside of him died. The weariness sat heavy in his chest as the void within grew bigger and bigger.
But when you’ve been burned from within not all hope was lost. Because at the end of every fire, there were still sparks amidst the ashes. And with enough work, those sparks would grow again.
He would build it, but he wouldn’t build it as it was before. He’d learned the hard way what it meant to love and lose. He would never go back there again. He would rise up from the ashes and journey down the road that had been inevitably carved out for him. He was made to be forsaken. Made to be the killer he knew he was. That much was for certain now.
And now that he knew this, he knew exactly where to start.
The roars of motorcycles boomed behind him. He watched Logan stop beside him and climb off. Then Fritz. And then Prez.
Fritz and Logan eyed Remy with caution, their usual laid back ease replaced with bone stiffening tension. The air felt thick with uncertainty. Prez jumped off his bike and threw his helmet off, staring hard at the SUV with a look of hungry retribution. Remy hungered for it too, so much so he could almost taste it.
Manny asked, “That fucker’s in there? Who’s been keeping watch of him?”
Remy whistled loudly. The driver’s door opened immediately, and Frank stood out. The tall, confident man walked towards them, his short white hair matted to his forehead from sweat as if he’d been exerting energy prior to this meeting. His black pants and patched vest were covered in dirt and his hands fisted over the blisters on his palms.
“You’re the last person I expected to see,” Prez remarked with a smirk. “Didn’t know the fucker got on your nerves too.”
Frank smiled coolly in return. “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy putting this fucker in the ground.”
Prez chuckled. “Well, get him out then.”
“I should have listened to you from the start. You were right. So maybe you should do the honours.” Remy’s voice was chilling, even to the Jackals around him.
Prez pulled out his gun from his holster and handed it to Remy. “I’d rather use my knife. I’ll only graze him. The rest is up to you.”
Remy took the gun and handed it to Logan without tearing his eyes from Prez. “I like the sound of that.”
Prez strode toward the SUV, his smile growing large enough to put a Cheshire cat to shame. He withdrew the Ka-Bar knife from the sheath that was holstered to his belt and stopped at the passenger door. The windows were black, concealing the man within.
Prez opened it quickly and reached inside. “I’m going to fuckin’ kill–”
He stopped abruptly, wondering why the fuck he was grabbing at thin air. He looked around the interior of the car, as if the fucker could be hiding from him.
But there was no one.
Confusion and anger filled Prez to the brim as he moved away from the car and turned to–
SMACK!
Remy’s fist cracked into the side of his face. The giant man took a lazy step back, his mouth already dribbling out blood. Another thunderous punch to the head and Prez fell all the way back, hitting the ground beneath him so hard Remy could hear him wheezing from the force.
His boot slammed into the hand that held the knife, knocking it loose from his grasp. Remy bent down and picked it up, staring only momentarily at the dazzled man on the ground before turning to the men behind him. He tilted his head in Prez’s direction and the men made their way to him.
Remy watched with pursed lips and a look of vast loathing as Logan and Fritz dragged the disoriented man off the road and in the direction of the forest. Remy followed behind, listening to the delirious rants bellowing from Prez’s strong vocal cords. He might have to sever that fucking box if it meant not listening to that annoyingly deceiving voice.
“What the fuck do you think you’re fucking doing?!” Prez flailed wildly and nearly knocked Fritz’s grip of him loose from one side. “Get your fucking hands off! You fuckin… Fuck… Fucking –FUCK!”
They stopped when they reached far enough inside the forest to conceal them from the road. Logan and Fritz threw Prez down, but before Prez could amble up again, a boot slammed into his face. Remy pressed his boot hard into the man’s face until Prez was gasping for air. He looked down at him and twisted his boot as if he were putting out a cigarette.
Then he stepped off of him and eyed the man with a look so devoid of emotion, it was disturbing.
Prez knew he was staring up at the Reaper and, for the first time since he could remember, he felt his pulse jump-start …and not out of pleasure.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he painfully grunted out, spitting out blood and a tooth or two.
“I don’t like liars,” Remy casually stated, staring at the knife’s edge as it gleamed forebodingly under the sunlight streaming through the trees. “I especially don’t take kindly to snitches, thieves, murderers and… worst of all, betrayers.”
He walked around him, still watching the knife in his hand as he continued. “See, with snitches you get a sense of understandin’ – they’re doing it to gain something for themselves. Thieves take and it isn’t personal. Murderers either enjoy their kill or simply do it to follow orders. But betrayal… That’s done when you falsely lead a man to believe he can trust you, so blindly that he’d put his life down for you. To do that to a Jackal on top of it all… Now there’s a crime that’s irreversible and unforgiving.”
Prez’s eyes dimmed. Understanding dawned on him as he tentatively watched Remy’s movements.
“Why do you gotta make a problem out of pussy?” he spat angrily. “She wasn’t worth it! Look what she did–”
“This was before what she did. You sent a cold-blooded killer to murder what I already told you was my woman!” Remy’s face went bright red, the angry cords pressed out of his neck as he shouted at him. “I had to kill a man–”
“I didn’t think you’d be there!” Prez interrupted, his voice edging hysteria. “I thought you were on a job! I’d never have put a brother in the ground!”
“She was my old lady!”
“She
wasn’t
your old lady! Look at what you did! You stole her from another man. You obsessed about her while she orchestrated to leave you! I wanted her dead because pussy ain’t worth a fucking war against the Scorpions!”
Anger flowed out of Remy’s eyes. “You betrayed me. You betrayed all of us. To boot, you did it with fucking Finley. Didn’t think we caught on about that extra money in your pocket, you fucking snake? Did you team up with him to kill her too?”
Prez panted heavily. “He wanted her dead more than me! You have no idea what you’re doing. We wanted to eliminate the fuckin’ problem because of the threat of what it might mean between both clubs. You and Jaxon were at each other’s throats, and it wasn’t doing anyone any good! You’re reacting out of anger from what that bitch did to you! How can you not see–” The knife shot out to Prez’s neck.
“You don’t fuckin’ call her that,” Remy gritted his teeth, grazing the surface of Prez’s skin. Blood flowed out of him and trailed down to his collarbone.
Prez snarled at Remy. “You kill me and you’re fucked. The men would never–”
“The men know what you did,” Remy interrupted sharply. “They know their Prez is a snake of a man who’s capable of killin’ people out of his own interest. He might not do harm to his brothers, but he’s more than willin’ to do harm to their women and that, my
President
, is unforgivable.”
“She’s a woman!” Prez barked out in frustration.
Remy dug the knife deeper against his neck, shaking with unrestrained anger as he shouted, “And women are fuckin’ sacred, you piece of shit. Being a Jackal means protecting everybody you love –
especially
your woman.”