Prologue
This wasn’t supposed to end like this. I was a goddamn outlaw in the most feared motorcycle club in the five surrounding states and here I was fucking tied to a chair, bleeding from the head, and eyes blindfolded, wondering when it was finally going to be over.
No one had come to try and save me and no one even probably knew I was missing. I had days like this when I would disappear until I felt like being seen again and they were okay with it, because I was their best Dealer of Havoc and they knew that after some jobs, I needed space.
I’m Nero fucking Rader; I’m not supposed to be a victim.
The worst part of all of this was having the sinking feeling that it was a set up. My brothers in Tidals & Anchors Motorcycle Club, one or all of them, arranged this little coup, but I couldn’t get my assailants to tell me who. Any time they asked me a question about a club secret, I would ask them who it was that set me up. Every response was a chuckle or a laugh, never a name.
The almost as worst part of this was that I could almost swear that my assailant was only one person. Someone who had a white mask over their face so I couldn’t see them before they blindfolded me, but by the body shape; the frame, the height, I knew it was a woman.
To say the least, I was fucking humiliated that I had been taken down by a woman, but I knew it had to be something personal if she was this committed to what she was doing to me.
The brassy taste that was in my mouth was starting to overwhelm me, so I spit out some blood and sat back against the chair. I hadn’t heard her footsteps in a while, but I knew that didn’t mean she was gone. She would often lurk in the shadows, if there were any, and just watch me. I couldn’t see it, but I would feel her eyes on me.
“Come on, bitch. Get it over with,” I grunted.
A chuckle was the response. Again. Every damn time I said anything, it was some form of laughter that greeted my ears. I wondered if the point was to make me crazy before taking me out. This was well too planned out for me to even think I’d be getting out of this alive.
I took a deep breath and held myself as upright as I could when I heard her hop down off of whatever the hell it was she had been sitting on. I listened as the sound of something metal dragged along the table before it stopped, being replaced by the sound of her footsteps toward me.
In an instant, I felt the edge of the knife she was slowly starting to twist into my stomach. I grit my teeth and refused to scream out in pain. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. That wasn’t who I was. I dealt this shit out to people that deserved it and because I was damn sure I didn’t, I wouldn’t give in. I wouldn’t cry out and I wouldn’t die.
Not here.
Not like this.
The one thing that was going to keep me alive through this was seeing the look on her face when she knew that she had failed and the looks on the faces of all of my brothers when I walked into the clubhouse again.
Heaven’s not going to be able to help them once I unleash Hell and I know just who to start with.
Three Months Ago...
One
The water at the bottom of the shower was turning a shallow cherry color. I hated washing blood off of my body, but it came with the territory. I ran my hands back through my hair, shaking out what was left of the shampoo and then whipped my head back. Nights like this weren't often, but when they came, things could get messy fast. I turned my body to face the shower head and let the hot water pour over me as I rested my hands against the wall. Even though the water was hotter than normal, I couldn't help but feel a modicum of comfort in the slight stinging pain.
After a few moments of just standing there reflecting on my night, I stood up and ran my hands back through my hair to get it out of my face, before reaching down and turning the knobs so that the water would stop. I stood there and watched the red water spin down the drain until it was almost all gone before grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist. I stepped out onto the fluffy bathroom mat and used one hand to wipe away the fog on the mirror.
I looked at myself and wondered why this had become so easy for me. Killing someone seemed like second nature now and it was never really hard for me to begin with for some reason. If anything, guns had gotten so boring that when the MC needed a specialized takedown, they would ask me to do it.
"Swing can do it."
"Let Swing handle it."
And I would. I'd do whatever my brothers needed me to do because that's just how it was. I pulled open the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tube of leave in conditioner. One small dab on my left palm, and I set the tube down on the sink, before rubbing my palms together and trailing it back through my hair.
I washed my hands off when I was done with that and put the tube back. I looked into the mirror again and locked eyes with myself as the fog desperately tried to hide me from myself. Again, I used my hand to clear a path on the mirror and cleared my throat as I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste.
I liked having these quiet moments to think about things. As I put a generous amount of paste onto the bristles, I looked into the mirror again as I began to brush my teeth.