Chapter Two #3
“We’ll need to take him down into the basement if you’re gonna skin anyone else. No one wants to clean up that shit from the clubhouse.”
“I’ve never skinned anyone,” he denies. But I remember that shit differently than him, apparently.
“Yeah, you did. That night you and Rogue took care of those few Widowmakers at the drug den.”
Malice scrunches up his face, his eyes looking up and over to the side like he’s trying really hard to think.
Then, like a light bulb went off, he sparks to life, holding up his pointer finger.
“I remember. And I thought about it, but I’ve never skinned someone, and I couldn’t do it.
Not worth my time. I want to shave his head. ”
“You want to shave his head?” I repeat, confused as all hell.
“I. Want. To. Shave. His. Head.” He nods, slowly enunciating each word. I punch him hard in the arm, garnering some looks our way.
“For fuck’s sake. Why?”
“Just a hunch.” He shrugs. I roll my eyes, but concede, morbidly curious what the hell he’s going to do about his “hunch” that involves a goddamn razor.
But at least he isn’t planning on torturing anyone here in the common room.
Sin and Chaos continue to interrogate the prospect while I head toward the back of the house to the bathroom to find a razor.
Coming up short on the razor, which is probably a good thing, I instead find a pair of old clippers under the sink.
That’ll work, and it’ll limit the mess he could potentially make.
The last thing any of us want to deal with right now is cleaning up our living space from one of Malice’s bloodbaths.
Things are getting heated as I reenter the common room, coming shoulder to shoulder with Malice and handing him the clippers.
“What’d I miss?”
“Sin just knocked his tooth out,” he replies without looking at me.
I wince. Sin is a big motherfucker, and I haven’t been unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of one of his haymakers, but I know one punch can rattle a skull.
I’ve seen him kill a man with just his fists, and it only took a few hits.
Prospect is gonna have one helluva headache after this.
“Damn. That didn’t take long.”
“Nope, but this is already taking too long for me,” Malice says, annoyance dripping into his tone. He cracks his neck side to side, and I brace myself for the whirlwind. Sin’s deep voice echoes through the room, and I don’t know how this dude isn’t pissing himself yet.
“I got my road name because there is no law, divine or otherwise, that I won’t break to get what I need, to protect what I love.
I will do anything, but it’s not me you should be afraid of today.
” Sin looks over at Malice and nods. Mal steps forward, a slow grin spreading across his face.
He excels here, and while it’s wildly sadistic, he’s like an artist. There’s a whimsy and flourish to his methods that demands attention.
Even if it’s gory and brutal, you don’t want to look away.
“Do you know why we call him Malice, Jason? Because he wants to inflict pain, wants to induce suffering. He doesn’t just do it because he has to, like me; he craves it.” Yep. That about covers Mal. Malice bristles and I have to hide my smile behind my hand.
Mal leans in to the guy’s face. “Jason, is it? That’s a stupid fucking name, Jason.
” My eyes pinch as I rest my chin in my hand, my other arm crossed at my chest, holding up my elbow.
Is it a stupid name? Thought Jason was pretty fuckin’ average if you ask me.
Malice turns on the clippers and jerks Jason’s head to the side, shaving him right down to the skin.
I step closer as Malice takes a step back to admire his work.
Right on the side of his scalp is a coiled snake, poised to strike.
I’m still not putting it together, but I wait, knowing Malice will get us there.
He flicks the tattoo at the side of his head hard. “What’s the snake tat, Jason?”
“It’s a random tattoo, man. What’s the big deal?” Idiot. Wrong answer. That’s when it hits me. Fuck, it’s a club emblem. We have another mole. I look around the room, looking for Chaos and Sin, to make sure they put it together too. This is about as bad as it gets.
Malice jerks his head to the other guy, and I quickly grab his arms before he can try to make a run for it.
Not that he’d get far, but I’d like to make shit as easy as possible.
He throws his head back toward my face to headbutt me, and I barely dodge it, kicking the back of his knees to force him down next to Jason.
He fights us the entire way as Sin and I hold him while Malice shaves his head down to the skin.
And sure as shit, there’s another fucking tattoo, same thing.
Coiled snake in a striking position. Fucking shit.
This isn’t just a one-off rogue rat who shot Rolo, we’ve been fucking embedded with snakes.
Malice returns to Jason in the chair, gripping his cheeks and forcing his mouth to hollow out as he squeezes them together.
“What’s the big deal? The big fucking deal, Jason, is that you two assholes wear the same tattoo I saw on Garrett.
I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s a big fucking deal.
Pretty sure the men standing behind me think it’s a big fucking deal, too.
” Malice shoves his head backward with force before standing up taller.
Sin, Chaos, and I flank his sides. “What’s the tattoo mean, boys? ”
The two men in front of us look at each other, Jason subtly shaking his head. These motherfuckers. Do they think we’re playing? That the Hell’s Heathens will just let this slide?
“Well, if it doesn’t mean anything to you lads, then I’ll just remove it, yeah?” Malice laughs maniacally at their reactions. Not so tough for infiltrating our clubhouse as prospects. “Does that scare you? This will be nothing compared to what I’ll do if you don’t start talking.”