Hunter (Sons of Rebellion Book 2) (3 page)

SLICK GRABBED THE TIP of my gun with his hand.

"Now, is that how we should end things after having known each other for such a long time?" he asked.

Dammit. This old man was getting on my nerves. Just how many demands was he going to make?

"Fine," I said. I threw my gun to the side.

Slowly, Slick stood up. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck side to side.

"I haven't been able to fight someone like you in a
long time,
" he said. "So let's see just how much you've grown up!"

He threw one punch, then another. Left. Right. I wasn't expecting him to move so fast. I dodged his arms, moving backwards.

"Come on Hunter, let's have some fun!"

Slick kicked and it hit me in the ribs. The air knocked out of my body and I stumbled backwards. What the fuck had happened to that old geezer? Was it just an act? Whatever. It didn't matter. I was going to
crush
him.

He went for another kick, but I dodged it and moved over to the side.

"
That's
more like-"

Before he could finish talking, I turned around and kicked Slick in the back. He yelled in pain and then I slammed my shin into his ribs. He fell backwards onto the little table.

"More like
what
?" I asked.

I raised my arm to slam my fist down, but Slick brought up his legs and kicked me in the stomach. I doubled over and his elbow rammed into the top of my head.

"More like
this
!"

He took the entire force of his body and rammed it against me. We flew backwards until I slammed against a wall. Slick pinned me there, and then backed up to deliver a kick.

Before he could, I punched him in the face. Once. Twice. Slick stumbled backwards. He threw blows my way, but I blocked them and pushed forward. This game was over.

I kicked Slick in the face, then in the chest. He staggered. I swiped behind his knees, making him bend forward, and then I kneed him in the face. Blood spilled from his nose and mouth. It coated my jeans in dark red.

We were almost done.

"Hey Slick," I said.

He was still on the ground, holding his bloody face. I kicked him in the stomach so that he fell to the floor.

I pulled my knife out of my pocket and held it up so that he could get a good look at it.

"Remember
this
?"

I turned the thing around in my fingers so that it glinted in the light. Slick was too busy spilling his blood on the ground to notice it, so I grabbed his head by his greased up hair and forced him to look.

"Probably not, huh? You probably have tons of knives stained with the blood of children," I said. "But
I
remember. I've kept this for a
long
time. I'll tell you this, at least you have an eye for quality weapons."

Slick started to cough. Blood splattered on my shirt and I let go of his hair. He dropped to the ground and started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"After all these years," he said and coughed. Slick spit and a tooth rattled on the ground. "You've just been looking for me all these years, haven't you? How
pathetic
."

My fist rammed into Slick's face again and he fell backwards. His skull hit the ground with a loud crack.

"No, what's pathetic is that an old man like you shouldn't be here. An old man should be with his grandchildren. He should die in his sleep after a long, happy, life. But that's not what's going happen," I said.

Slowly, I walked over to where Slick was curled up on the ground. I knelt next to him and grabbed him by the neck.

"I could get my gun and shoot you in the head. I could stab you in the chest. I could even slit your throat, but that would be too easy for you. No, you don't even deserve
that."

I brought my knife up to Slick's cheek and pressed the tip against his wrinkled skin.

"You took a hunk of flesh from me," I said, "so I figured it's only right if I take a hunk back."

Slick's eyes widened until they were completely surrounded in white. He started to shake and tried to pull away from me, but I only tightened my grip on his throat. Let's see who's laughing
now
.

"Hey, let's not be hasty. I'm sure we can –"

Slick's voice changed into a twisted scream as I dug my blade into his skin. My hands moved slowly, methodically. There was no reason to rush. By the time I had cut a bleeding triangle out of his face, Slick didn't have any more energy to scream.

"There," I said and held up the piece of skin. "Piece number
one
."

I moved onto his other cheek. Then I took pieces from his arms, his chess victory, and his legs. By the time a bloody square had been cut out of the bottom of Slick's foot, he was barely putting up a fight. It was time to end this.

I grabbed Slick's head.

"Looks like this is the end," I said. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll have lots of friends when you're going."

I took his head and slammed it against the ground until his skull cracked. His arms fell lifeless at his sides, and his whole body went limp. It was over.

***

It was always hard to get rid of blood. I wiped my hands against my jeans, but it never seemed enough.

Slick was still there, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. I looked at him. Would that be me someday? Would I end up like him, the kind of scum that gets killed in an abandoned warehouse by another Sergeant at Arms?

I walked over and picked up my gun. It was a little dirty, but it was fine. I dusted it off and shoved it back into my pants.

Am I any better than the old bastard? I punched the wall, splitting my knuckles open. My blood stained the faded paint and dripped to the floor. I punched again.

A rapist. A child murderer. No one would blame me for what I did, but how long would I be on the right side? When would it all go wrong?

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.
Nadia
.

Where are you? I want to see you.

What the hell was I supposed to tell her? My blood smeared across the screen as I held the phone.

Come get me at Jona's place. I can't wait!

Okay
, was all I could manage to text back. I could just see her smiling face. Blissfully unaware. I grabbed my phone and held it up in the air, my arm shook. I was ready to throw it, smash the stupid thing to bits and never see her again.

But I couldn't do that.

I lowered my arm. I slid my phone back into my pocket and leaned against the cold wall. No, I wasn't going to leave her until she realized just exactly what kind of monster I am. Then she'll know the truth: I was sent here to tear her world apart, and I've already started.

SIX

OKAY.

IT WAS ONLY one word, but that was all I needed. It meant Slayer was coming. I would tell him my plan and we'd get out of here. I curled around my phone and texted Jona.

Can I come over 2 your place 2nite?

Sure, want 2 have a slumber party?

Not exactly

What's up?

I want 2 c him

… Fine. WE.

No matter how many times I texted her after that, Jona didn't answer. She wasn't exactly Slayer's biggest fan.

 
I sat up, and my new braid fell behind me. I brought it over my shoulder and stared at neat plaits.

Now it's your turn to give up something.

I grabbed the braid and tore it apart. My hair fell free over my shoulders. It was
my
turn to give up something? This wasn't the life I chose.
They
chose it. Not me.

I was almost prepared to forgive her. Almost. And then she had to open her mouth and say
that
…

"
What The Fuck Did You Just Say To Me?"

Dad?

I'd never heard him this angry in my entire life, but now his voice was shaking with anger. I opened my bedroom door and peeked outside. Dad was on the couch downstairs. He was screaming so loudly that I couldn't even hear the TV Playing in the background anymore. Mom rushed to his side. She tried to put her hands on his shoulders, but he brushed her away.

"What do you mean you don't know who did it? Are you
incompetent
?" Dad yelled into the phone. He looked like he was going to crush it in his hand. What the hell was going on?

"Well, you better
mother-fucking
find out who did it! And when you do, I want you to bring me his guts!" Dad rammed his fist into the couch. "I want you to bring me his head on a mother-fucking
plate
!"

Dad was still for a while. I could hear the voice on the other side of the phone trying to explain something in an urgent tone. They almost seemed to be pleading with him.

"I don't care if that was his job," Dad yelled, "it's
your
job now. Look, as of today you are the new Sergeant at Arms and your first job is to find out whoever the fuck did this to Slick!"

Dad didn't even hang up. He just clutched the phone and then threw it across the room. It shattered against our living room wall. He barely missed the TV.

Mom screamed.

"Don, what's wrong? What happened!" she said.

He couldn't even look her in the face. He turned away and closed his eyes. After a long sigh, Dad spoke.

"Slick's dead."

All of the color left my mom's face. Her body went limp, and her eyes were glassy.

"No," she said. "That can't be right. They made a mistake."

Suddenly, Mom grabbed Dad's shirt. She pulled at it so hard that a button flew off.

"That's right, they made a mistake! Tell them to check again. How could they screw up something like this? If they do this one more time-"

"
Christina
.
Stop
."

Dad grabbed mom's arm and held her so that she couldn't move.

"He's
gone
," he said. "They found him alone in a warehouse with his neck snapped in half."

Mom fell to her knees. "What… Who did this?"

"I don't know," Dad said. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "I don't know, but when I do, I'll make sure that whoever did it will regret that they ever messed with the Midnight Stalkers. They have no fucking clue what they're in for."

I didn't need to hear more. I closed my door and slumped to the ground. My heart felt like it was twisting inside of my chest.

Someone killed Uncle Slick? It didn't seem real. How could someone have killed the man who used to give me piggyback rides on his broad shoulders? Why would anyone do that to the uncle who used to give me candy when my dad wasn't looking?

I felt a lump in my throat. It was hard to breathe, to swallow.

I wanted to ask why, but I knew the answer. Slick was like an uncle to me, but he was also our Sergeant at Arms. I didn't know it when I was a child, but that's why he would come back from a job with bruises and cuts. I would pretend to play nurse, but that was real blood soaking those bandages. He must have had more enemies than I could imagine.

But still, the same question came to my mind.
Who
? Who did it? Who hated our club enough to kill an old man?

He's from a rival gang
… Jona's words came back to me.

No. Not
him
.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them close to my chest. My tears fell on my skin, but I didn't bother to wipe them.

It would make sense, wouldn't it? He
was
a rival Sergeant at Arms. That was probably how he got his nickname, by killing people. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

But Hunter would never do that to me. He'd never do that to my family…

My stomach churned and I squeezed my knees even tighter. No. I trusted him. He'd never do that.
Never
...

SEVEN

WHAT AM I DOING?

The road keeps going in front of me. It looks like it could go on forever. No one in this town comes this way, so I'm alone. It's almost like an abandoned piece of highway.

I shouldn't be here. Now that Slick's dead, it's only a matter of time before those bastards find out. And when they do, they'll come looking for who did it. How long before they'll find out it's me?