Page 155 of Rest In Pieces

“Maybe he was drunk.”

“I haven’t seen either of them since I was sent to prison. I’m a hell of a lot bigger than the man they remember. I used to be around your size.”

“The tattoos,” Knuckles murmurs. “We heard he had tattoos.”

I shake my head. Sure, Havoc has some ink now that he didn’t have before, but it’s like comparing Travis Barker with Selena Gomez.

“So they heard through the grapevine I’d gotten some new ink. And they put two and two together and got forty-six.”

“That’s flimsy as fuck. You’re not buying this, right?”

“He always was as dumb as a rock so I won’t rule it out. It’s more likely though that they spotted you and Amity riding past and couldn’t miss out on an opportunity to fuck shit up. I don’t think they cared who they hit. Maybe they thought you’d kick me to the curb if I brought nothing but trouble. Either way, Acid admitted that they were sent here to take me out. I’ll be damned if I know why, though. I’m the one who was fucked over, not the other way around.”

“I doubt we’ll get the answers we need from these two. They’re too far down the food chain to know anything.”

“Agreed. So, on that note, there really isn’t much need to keep them around. Which one do you want?”

I look between them before I walk over to Knuckles. “He shot Amity. I want him.”

“He’s all yours. Might want to take your cut off for this. I have a feeling it’s going to get messy.”

I take his advice and hang my cut on one of the hooks near the door before slipping on my brass knuckles.

Acid starts whimpering. I don’t know what Havoc’s doing to him, and I don’t care. My focus is all on Knuckles.

“You almost killed the woman I love.” I slam my fist into his face, feeling his cheekbone shatter under the force. “That act alone bought you a one-way ticket to hell.”

I punch him again, this time in the mouth. His teeth scrape against my skin, but I relish it, especially when he cries out in pain and I hear the unmistakable sound of teeth hitting the ground. I work him over until I’m dripping with sweat and covered in blood. And still, it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

I walk over to the trunk in the corner of the room and pull out a machete. I take in the sharpened blade and walk back over to him, taking in the sight.

“Please,” he begs through split lips.

I flash a grin and swing, the blade hitting his arm, severing it, and sending a spray of blood across the floor. Something dark and primal takes over. I keep swinging, hacking, and cutting my way through Knuckles’ body like it was nothing more than a block of cheese.

By the time I’m done, the shack resembles a slaughterhouse, and Knuckles is in bite-sized pieces. I step back and admire my handiwork, feeling a certain amount of pride and a whole lot of detachment as Havoc walks over to me.

“Remind me not to piss you off.”

I look over at Acid and find holes in his face where his eyes used to be and bulging cheeks where I suspect they are now.

“He’s dead.”

“Fucker’s heart gave out. Pussy. I think it’s safe to say Knuckles is gone too.”

“Not sure I could find his pulse to check it now if I wanted to,” I joke as we both look down at the man who resembles a twisted hundred-piece puzzle.

“I’ve heard ofrest in peace, but neverrest in pieces,” he says.

“I don’t envy the prospects cleaning this up.”

“If this doesn’t break them, they’ll stand a good chance of getting patched in.”

“Agreed. But I might just sweep up what’s left of Knuckles and put him in a sandwich bag or something. Because I’m nice like that.”

He laughs, shoving me toward the back of the room, where the hose is. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll sweep him up and get the prospects on the rest of the mess, and you head back to Amity. It’s been a long fucking day, and she might wake up needing you.”

I strip out of my clothes, leaving on my boxers, and grit my teeth as he hoses me down with the freezing fucking water.

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