Page 67 of The Enforcer

He shrugs, pulling his sunglasses out of his shirt and putting them back on. “Not now we don’t. Maybe next year when shit dies down a little.”

Joker comes over, not grinning like he usually is. “He touched your guy, right?”

“Almost killed him by setting fire to the club he signed over to us in place of the kilos of coke he owed us.”

Jaw clenched, Joker nods and tells his prospect, “You know where to take him. There’s plenty of space out there for everyone.”

The prospect pushes Kirk towards the door of the warehouse, forcing him to walk ahead of him. Kirk tries to fight against him, but it’s no use. With as many of us as there are, there’s no way he can get away. Besides, Joker said there’s one way in for visitors and only the members of his club know the other way out.

We follow a trail just behind the warehouse. It winds and curves deep into the woods and I’d fear getting lost if Joker and his crew weren’t with us. It really is the perfect spot to drop a body. The trees almost obstruct everything, branches tearing at our clothes as we wind our way back to wherever the prospect is taking us.

Kirk keeps tripping and falling over his feet, making the prospect leading him stop and snatch him off the ground, being none too gentle as he jerks him up and pushes him ahead of us. Kirk keeps babbling behind the tape across his mouth, turning to me and Prez, begging us with his eyes. We both just look at him evenly, not wanting to hear any of his bullshit. The time for him to beg is long gone.

Stepping into a clearing, I peer around, glad Joker got what I asked for—a fire already built, a length of rope, a gallon of gasoline and a hole already dug for me. Perfect. The few bikers from Joker’s crew that were standing around and tending to the fire greet us, but don’t move from their positions.

Once we’re all in the clearing and the prospect pushes Kirk down to his knees, I step forward, snatching the tape from Kirk’s mouth. He shouts, tears leaking down his face as he brings his hand to his mouth and gingerly touches his nose. He sobs softly, trembling uncontrollably, beseeching words leaving his swollen mouth. I don’t give a fuck and it’s honestly getting on my fucking nerves.

“Shut up,” I say in a voice far calmer than my heart rate belays.

Kirk either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care to hear me. He just keeps begging, trying to staunch the blood flowing from nose.

Irritated, I connect my booted foot with his face. Kirk cries out, falling to the side, crying harder. “I said shut up.”

He finally listens to what I said, only his soft cries heard over the sounds of nature. Kneeling beside him, I grab a handful of his greasy hair so he’s looking at me. His eyes are already bruising from my headbutt and foot. “You know why you’re here, Kirk?”

“No, no! I didn’t, please. I gave you what you wanted. You have my club! I gave it up!”

“You did,” I mutter, pulling him up until he’s on his feet. Kirk cries out, taped hands moving from his mouth to try to loosen my grip on his hair. “Then you called the cops and left an anonymous tip.” His eyes grow wide, mouth moving like he wants to say something. “Then told the feds we were moving weight from Tennessee to Georgia during our charity ride.” Kirk shakes his head, trying to deny what we already know. “Then you set my fucking club on fire, with my boyfriend inside!” The last part comes out as a bellow and I jab him in the face three times in quick succession.

I let him go and Kirk drops heavily to the ground, crying loudly. “I didn’t mean it. I just wanted my club back.”

Scoffing, I grab Kirk by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him to a large tree that’s just on the edge of the clearing. Taking out my knife once more, I cut the shirt off him, not being careful not to slice him. Kirk shouts in pain, trying to wrench his body away from the sting of my blade. I hold him steady and finish removing his shirt like he weighs less than nothing.

Once he’s back on his feet bare chested, the length of rope is passed to me and I tie Kirk to the tree, ensuring he’s laced up tight.

Stepping back, I admire my handiwork. Kirk looks defeated, head down and his shoulders shaking with his sobs.

Joker steps beside me and laughs, pointing a finger at Kirk. “Why cry now? Didn’t Raf tell you to leave town? Should have taken that out, bitch. Now you’re going to die and no one will miss you.” He calls Prez by his first name, confusing Kirk for a moment before his face crumples as he processes the rest of the sentence Joker said.

“Please, don’t! Don’t kill me! I’ll leave. I’ll-I’ll-I’ll-I’ll tell them I lied. I’ll?—”

Prez stands beside me, hands in his pockets. “How did you know about the run to Georgia? No one but members of the club know about those.”

He probably only answers because he realizes that keeping the secret is pointless or to prolong his death. Not sure which. “Sam was talking about it last year before he disappeared. He said you always send your drugs that way. He was going to set you up to be robbed but then he never got back to me about the guys he needed.”

Prez and I exchange a look. Sam was the prospect that snitched on Rax after Rax killed his best friend, Telly, another prospect. He didn’t disappear at all. He’s somewhere, feeding the fishes after running the gauntlet and being shot in the chest by Finn.

Fuck, now we’ll never get new prospects.

“What did you hope to accomplish by snitching on us, Kirk?” Prez asks. Nothing he says will change his fate, but we might learn something new. “You may as well be honest. You don’t want to go to hell with a lie on your tongue.”

Lip trembling, Kirk says, “I wanted my club back. If you were sent to prison, I would have gotten it back. That’s what Captain Matthews said when he tracked me down after my anonymous tip.” I nod, filing that bit of information away for later. Prez and I will come up with a plan to dispose of that fucker too.

Shaking my head in mock sympathy, I tell him, “You’re a fucking idiot, Kirk. You were running your business into the ground. Had we not taken it, the government would have. And you owed us for doing business with you. You fucked us over repeatedly. Now you’re going to die for it. No more chances.” He lowers his head and sobs, but it has no effect on me.

The heat of the fire sizzles across my face, the flames climbing higher but not near enough to catch any of the trees in this clearing ablaze. The heat makes me flashback to dragging Shane out of the burning building, to my man having burns all on his back and arm, to Shane not being able to fucking breath without being hooked up to a ventilator.

Walking over to the fire, I grab one of the long branches that are poking just out of the flames. I pull it free, making sure the flame remains without it being nestled between other branches. It does.

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