Page 66 of The Enforcer

“One more thing,” he mutters against my mouth.

“Anything.”

“Don’t bring me his head. That would be unhygienic.”

A laugh rumbles up my chest, spilling across his lips. “Okay, no head. A finger?”

Shane giggles in exasperation. “Go away, you Neanderthal. Bring me you back in one piece.”

“Anything you want, baby. I love you.”

“Love you more.”

After one more lingering kiss, I grab my jacket, trotting to the elevator to get downstairs.

The day is cool and crisp and I inhale deeply before I jog over to Jace’s mom van. I slide in the passenger seat and me and Jace knock fists as he pulls out. “How is he?” Jace asks.

“Good. Better. His fucking arm is red and looks painful as fuck, but he tells me he’s okay.”

Jace grunts approvingly. “Shane’s tough. He has to be to deal with you.” He glances over at me with a smile and winks. Then he sobers. “You’ll get Kirk today.”

Rubbing my hand down my face, I nod, leaning back against the head rest. “Joker says it’s cool, right?”

Jace nods, putting on his blinker and turning right to get onto the highway. “Yep. He said he wants to come and watch, but he’s a weird guy who likes that shit. Hope you don’t mind an audience.”

I shrug. Joker might not be in Devil’s Mayhem, but he’s my brother. We’ve all had great working relationships over the years and that’s not going to stop any time soon. “All witnesses are welcome so they can confirm that I got rid of that bitch for what he did to Shane.”

Jace nods. “We’ll all stay out of your way.”

“Did they already leave to take Kirk to Georgia?”

“Yep. Reaper and Pete are driving him and Prez and the rest of the guys are riding down there. There’s a skeleton crew left at the clubhouse, but the main players will be there to support you. Do you want him to run the gauntlet?”

Running the gauntlet is where the ranking members in the club all stand in a line with nonlethal weapons. The person that offended a member in the club—which usually offends the entire club—has to make their way down the line until they get to the person at the end that was on the receiving end of the offense. Most times, the person running the gauntlet just has the shit beat out of them and we call it a night. But since Kirk almost killed Shane, he will fucking die. His offense on top of snitching on the club already guaranteed he’d die, but it would have been quick. Now it won’t be.

Shaking my head, I say, “Nah. I want him all to myself. All you all have to do is bear witness.”

“Too easy.”

For the entire drive, even though I’m lying back with my head on the headrest, I’m thinking of all the ways I want to hurt Kirk. I know Prez will want to question him, especially about the tips and shit he told the police, but after that, I can do with him what I want. I’m thinking an eye for an eye is the best route here.

It takes a little longer to get to the warehouse than I would have liked, mainly because of Jace’s minivan not being able to go faster than sixty-five miles per hour. No matter, we get there in one piece a few hours later. The telltale signs of bike tire tracks on the bumpy road are everywhere and I chuckle under my breath, knowing some of the guys wouldn’t have liked the shocks on their bikes being put to the test.

A few minutes later, the warehouse comes into view and we pull up in front of it, honking the horn. Two prospects pull open the doors and we’re greeted by the sight of almost everyone in Devil’s Mayhem waiting by their choppers.

Prez pushes off his chopper and approaches the van when I step out. He removes his sunglasses and tucks them in his shirt. “He’s in there.” He points to the cargo van we use for drug transport. “You actually have damn near perfect timing. He just woke up, screaming and shit.”

Reaper opens the door to the van, showing me Kirk, kicking and screaming behind the tape over his mouth. When he sees me, his eyes go wide. He shimmies towards the front of the van, trying to get away from me.

I give him an easy smile, pulling him towards the bottom of the van by the tape around his ankles. “Fuck you think you’re going, bitch?”

He screams behind the tape, eyes bugging out and sweat dripping down his face.

“What’s that?” I ask, head butting him hard enough for his nose to explode. Kirk looks as if he’s going to pass out, eyes rolling back and head lolling. “I didn’t get that.” His knees buckle, so I drop him at my feet.

Pulling my knife from the holster on my hip, I cut the tape from around his ankles. “Stand the fuck up. We’re taking a trip.”

Kirk doesn’t move, so one of the prospects from Joker’s crew grabs him under the arm, hauling him up. Glancing at Prez, I say, “We need prospects.”

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