13. Fury
Chapter thirteen
Fury
Those motherfuckers. I know it was them who did this. Just like I know it was them who flayed my brother’s back patch tattoo off his body, put it in a box, and left a note that “said you're next” on the doorstep before we rode out looking for the motherfucker who dropped it at our doorstep.
Not many men could have handled stripping a man's back, except for that psycho enforcer of theirs.
I stand watching the burning building crumble before me, knowing all our members' bodies will be buried beneath the rubble. Like true Vikings, they will decimate everything in their path. No survivors. It’s part of their creed. I need to be smart about this.
The Heathens are ruthless and methodical, but they still have one weakness.
Until now, I thought we had that plan securely tucked away.
Then my son lost his fucking temper with the club princess.
All that worthless piece of shit had to do was keep his fucking nose clean and off the coke long enough to marry the bitch, but he couldn’t even do that.
A few nights ago, I walked into the clubhouse to find him, balls deep in a club whore's ass, snorting coke off her back.
His face was dusted with white powder. He looked like a fucking baker had slammed his face into a pile of flour.
The disappointing little weasel. I knew I should have pushed that whore down the steps when she was pregnant with him, but I needed an heir.
Lucky for him, only one other bitch has come forward, claiming to have a child by me.
Unlucky for me, the next spawn was a girl.
She will serve her purpose eventually, though.
I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure my daughter remains a virgin until I’ve decided otherwise.
That’s only for business purposes, though.
These men aren’t like me. Family holds no value for me. I only care about my own survival.
One day, this godforsaken state will be mine, and I will watch the Heathens bow before me.
In roughly three days, the last of my men are set to arrive.
Not as many as they have under their belt.
I need a more even playing field. I'm going to need to take something they would be willing to lay down for.
A child or an ol' lady will do nicely. No more sitting in wait. I'm going to snatch one.
I know they travel in packs, so the more, the merrier, right?
Hit those Heathen assholes right where it hurts.
Their precious pussy. I never found much use for it beyond a place to get my release.
Those bitches must have golden pussy. Maybe I’ll have a sample while I wait for them to vacate the state and sign their compound over to me.
I turn from the flaming building, tying my bandana around my face, and signal the boys with a twirl of my finger that it’s time to ride out.
I don’t bother waiting. I know they’ll follow.
I snap my clear glasses down over my eyes and fire up my motorcycle.
Everyone else follows suit. I glance over at my son, grinding his teeth back and forth as his eyes are blown wide, completely wacked out of his mind on coke.
I’ll need to throw him in the basement to detox after we win this war, so he’s clear-headed long enough to start the new chapter.
Like a rabid dog, he’s bloodthirsty on the shit.
It’s a good quality to have as a president, but high men make high-cost mistakes.