38. Collin
38
Collin
M y son is a brave young man. He doesn’t beg to go home. Doesn’t make empty threats. No, he stands beside Marco and eyes me curiously. Mason let his guard down when he allowed two prospects to pledge the club. He wanted to increase his numbers. Lucky me.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Should I be?”
“Smart kid.”
He smiles. “I take after my mom.”
I like this kid.
Marco approaches me and leans in, talking quietly. “Hey, dude, I’m not cool with kidnapping a fucking kid. This is fucked.”
I nod, then pull my gun from my waistband and blow his fucking brains out. Charlie screams and bolts. With a sigh, I chase after him, knowing he can’t get away.
“You don’t have to fear me, son.”
He tugs relentlessly on the door but to no avail. It won’t open without the code.
“You just killed Marco!” he yells, tears streaming down his face.
“Yes, but does that really make you sad? He kidnapped you, after all.”
He wipes his tears, thinking of what I said. “You didn’t have to kill him.”
“But I did. Now, are you going to be a man about it or keep crying like a little bitch?”
“I’m not a bitch,” he mumbles, still sniffling.
“Didn’t think so. Come here. Let’s get to know each other.”
“Mason’s going to come for me.”
“I doubt that. He doesn’t know where you are. No one does.”