Page 36 of Taming the Demon

“Darrow, I’m sorry,” Bram said. “Whatever I did, I’m so sorry, man.”

Darrow pulled Bram away from the gate again.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Darrow asked.

“I meant to saysir,” Bram said. “Oh, fuck, please. All I did was open the gate. I pulled it open. I’m sorry for not being better at it. Listen, I have—”

Darrow finally punched Bram in the face.

Bram stumbled back, grabbing for his face, and Darrow reached down and unzipped his jeans. He pulled out just enough of his cock so he could take a piss. Making a large wet spot on the ground, letting it pool in some places, letting it run at the natural slope of the ground in others.

Once done, Darrow shook his cock a few times and tucked himself away. He pointed at Bram. He pointed at the piss on the ground.

“Drink up, prospect,” Darrow said.

Bram looked ready to cry.

“Did I speak another language to you?” Darrow growled. “I said to drink up. Hands and knees and start licking the ground. Or else I’m going to cut your tongue out and make you eat it.”

With blood running down the right side of his face, Bram lowered himself to the ground. He then crawled on his hands and knees toward the wet area on the ground. Darrow watched long enough to see Bram hovering over the piss on the ground and then Bram bending his elbows, leaning down, actually about to lick the ground.

He then focused his attention on Drix.

“You make sure every last drop is licked up,” Darrow said to Drix. “If he fucking stops or quits, you cut his tongue out and bring it to me. Got that, prospect?”

“Yes, sir,” Drix said.

Without hesitation, Drix produced a knife. That’s the kind of attitude that would get Drix his leather cut. You either fucked or got fucked in the outlaw world, there was simply no in between.

Darrow walked across the lot toward the clubhouse. Linc and Slade stood just outside the doors, talking.

“Feel good about yourself now?” Linc asked Darrow.

“Go fuck yourself, Linc,” Darrow said without looking at him.

Linc jumped toward Darrow. Slade got in the middle.

“Let him go,” Darrow said. “You want to do this, Linc? Right now?”

“Yeah, I do,” Linc said with an evil smirk. “Right now, Darrow.”

“Jesus Christ,” Slade said. “Fine. Pick a garage and wait for me and Cyrus to show up.”

Linc stepped back. Darrow gave a nod. This was not what the club needed right now…

… but maybe it was what was wanted.

Cyrus, Slade, and Custer all stood near the door together, arms folded, each with a bottle of beer in hand. Monte and Deed were closer to the upcoming fight, both in charge of making sure this thing didn’t end up with one of the guys dead. Virus, Amos, and Dolph were on the far side of the garage.

Out of the prospects—Drix, Stu, and Bram—Drix was the only prospect invited to watch the fight. He took that as a great honor. Cyrus pulled him aside to ask about the Bram situation at which point Drix simply shook his head and boldly told the President ofSOFRAWnot to worry about it. Which was the right thing to do and say, no matter how risky.

Even Muffin made an appearance, trading his apron for his leather cut. Standing there with his eight-hundred-foot-tall stature, completely unsure of what was becoming of this club. He had a pot of extra hot chili sitting on the stove. The longer is sat there, the hotter it would get. He felt bad for the prospects come tomorrow when these outlaws had to use the toilets.

Maggie took charge of the bar, making sure Skylar and Bee hustled their asses back and forth to keep the outlaws hydrated with all the necessary alcohol their bloodstream and livers required to function.

Linc tossed his leather cut to Virus. Darrow placed his on an old workbench. The two stripped themselves of any rings on their fingers, along with any chains on their jeans, wallets and whatnot. It was then two men wearing dirty jeans and T-shirts. Linc in a black T-shirt. Darrow in a white one.

Now why exactly were these two outlaws ready to knock each other to pieces?

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