2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Feet pounding the pavement, each step echoes in the park’s quiet as sweat drips down my back. I’ve got a job to do. Antarctica by $uicideboy$ blares through the speakers of my earbuds. The weight of my responsibility and my duty to the club, Kings of Carnage, rests on my shoulders. I’m the Road Captain and take my position seriously. My patch is a badge of honor. One I wear with pride and have inked on my back.

My loyalty to the club comes before all else.

An incoming call vibrates from my pocket, but I ignore it. It’s not the club and I have to focus. The pay day on this particular job is one I can’t afford to pass up. I’m not worried, but that doesn’t mean I can afford any distractions. If I’m going to pay off the build on my cabin, I’ve gotta make this happen.

My cell goes off again, alerting me to a new voice mail. Probably Ember checking up on me. She was probably the last woman I was even close to being serious about until life reminded me we weren’t meant to be. I ran away from her like the room was on fire when she told me she was pregnant with Smoke’s child. I knew the score between us. She was always going back to him, and I had a life to get back to.

We weren’t meant to last.

I filled a role for her, and she gave me something beautiful to cherish when I think about her. With her dark hair, blue eyes, and pouty lips that always felt familiar. It was her eyes that first drew me to her. Those haunting eyes filled with such beauty and sadness, burning with desire. She would never be mine. She had an ache, and I was her temporary remedy.

I did her a favor, and she rewarded me with her vulnerability.

My only regret is the way I dropped her like a bad habit, but things happen the way they are meant to. I had a new job. A new target to take out. Ember couldn’t come with me.

As soon as I got shot of her, I was back on the road. I left Anarchy, California, and booked it to a bar in the middle of nowhere called the Velvet Rooster to pick up my intel. Over a year later, I’m still doing the same shit.

Avoiding relationships.

Killing for money.

I’m a killer for hire.

A professional hitman .

Not exactly what I dreamed of when I was a kid, but here I am.

Most people, when you ask them what they are good at, say something like I’m good with a wrench or computers or something. Me? I’m good with my fists. Learned early in life to defend myself from assholes like my old man who liked to get drunk and slap their family around. If you ask my father, his memory differs vastly from mine.

In his eyes I was a troubled little shit with mommy issues.

Maybe I was, but he was still a lousy father. He’s always hated me because I have my mother’s smile, and she didn’t want him. Still can’t mention them to each other. Too much bad blood. They divorced when I was five and when she left, she didn’t take me with her. Bounced between my grandmother’s and different relatives until my father married my stepmother. God rest her soul. She tried to mother me, but I was too old for that shit by the time she entered my life with her brat of a daughter, Charlotte. Aka Lottie. My terror of a stepsister who loved to make my life hell.

She was tempting and gorgeous.

Off limits.

But I couldn’t resist the challenge of conquering the forbidden. Sneaking around with her. Stealing kisses. Loving the thrill making her mine gave me. Until my father found out and put me out on my ass. I left Lottie a note asking her to come with me. When she didn’t show up at the park, I knew she’d made her choice, and it wasn’t me. It was probably for the best, but that shit was my first real heartbreak.

All that stuff feels like it was a lifetime ago. Sharon passed away about ten years ago. Was the last time I spoke to my old man or Lottie. If you could call it speaking.

My actual family never wanted me, so I found my own with the guys I grew up with. We’ve always had each other’s backs. I won’t let them down.

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

I run another lap around the park, waiting for my target. He has a schedule that he sticks with, like clockwork. Every morning, he jogs around this park. Alone. Unprotected, unsuspecting. A man like him only fears what people would think of him if they knew the truth. He’s a functioning alcoholic who loves to take out his frustrations on his wife with his fists.

Reminds me of my own father. A real bastard.

When I crack his skull on the pavement, it will appear like a freak accident and his poor wife will collect the hefty life insurance policy. She’s earned it for all the abuse she’s endured by his hands. Stupid fuck will never see it coming.

When the police investigate, they’ll suspect he tripped on the fallen wet leaves due to the worn tread of his running shoes .

Sometimes it’s almost too easy.

Almost.

He rounds the corner of the path, tripping like I knew he would over the wire, unable to stop himself due to his brisk speed. His eyes meet mine on the way down, his lips curving into a shocked expression. A perfect O, ready to scream. I crouch down next to him as his head is about to bounce off the pavement, placing a jagged rock with a sharp edge there to meet him. Like I said, it is almost too easy. An unfortunate accident.

Once he ceases breathing in this world and I’m back at the clubhouse, I check my voicemail after my shower.

“Fuck me, man. Can you send someone to pick me up? Where do you live again?” Ghoul asks some chick and repeats the address to the fucking clubhouse.

Fucking idiot.

I dial him back.

“You’ve got Ghoul. I’m balls deep in your mom’s snatch. Leave a message.”

Like I said. Idiot.

In the comfort of my bed, I kick back, and doom scroll social media. Ember posted new pictures of the baby. My heart cracks slightly at the images. If things had been different, they coulda been mine. I want a family someday, just not currently. I heart react to the images and leave her a comment. ‘Happy looks good on you, beautiful.’

My comment isn’t an empty sentiment. I am happy for her and Smoke. Even if I think he’s a prick who doesn’t deserve her. I’ve gotta get past that shit. He won. I should have brought one of the bitches that hang around to my room to blow me. Instead, I’m in my room like some poor sap, feeling sorry that I haven’t moved on since my road trip with Ember.

Twilah Jane is always down to fuck even though she likes to play it like she’s shy. Bitch is a freak and would smother gravy on my dick and lick it off if I’d let her. Then there’s Darlene with her flat ass and Kitty with her pierced cunt. Slim pickings. But that’s what you get in a piss poor town with one fucking street.

I think even the prospects have fucked all three of them by now. I like to get off as much as the next man, but I’m tiring of convenient pussy.

I need the thrill of the chase.

Someone who challenges me and won’t put up with my bullshit.

A woman who gets under my skin, not makes it crawl because all my friends have already fucked her. My cell lights up with another call. This time its Ember and I send her to voicemail. I know she worries about me, but it’s time to cut the cord. She’s another man’s Ol’ Lady. I can’t move forward if I’m staying tethered to the past .

Placing my phone on silent, I roll over and try to get some sleep. The last thing I need is to show up at tonight’s fight unrested.

I bounce on the balls of my feet, throwing practice jabs in the air.

“Looking good, brother.” Ghoul grins, plopping down on one of the benches of the locker room. “Big fucking crowd.”

I nod and roll my shoulders, trying to keep myself psyched up. Not that I take much to get going. I just imagine every opponent I face is my fuckface of a father. I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with my trauma and how I choose to deal with it. Fucking and fighting. My two favorite pastimes.

“Got you a real sweet piece lined up for later. Tonya has this friend.” Ghoul lets out a whistle. “Smokin’ body on this bitch. I’d try to get in there if I wasn’t fucking her friend and thought she’d be down.”

“One day you’re going to poke the wrong bear.”

He shrugs. Dumb fuck has no fear. In my experience, there’s no one more savage than a scorned woman .

“You haven’t met this chick yet. On a scale of one to ten, she’s fucking fifteen.”

“If Selena Gomez isn’t out there, I’m kicking your ass,” I joke.

“Trust me.” He slicks his shaggy hair back off his neck and into a bun.

“Last time I trusted you, I woke up to my wallet gone and my couch on fire.”

“It wasn’t that bad. I got your wallet back.”

“Yeah, and it was five hundred dollars lighter.”

“Want to see her picture?”

“No. I don’t need the distraction.”

“I can take a hint. I’ll see you out there. Give’m hell, man.”

I shake my head. Fucking love Ghoul like a brother, but trouble follows that fucker everywhere he goes.