Page 14 of Frenemies

I tilted my head and rolled my eyes over the mangled body fighting for breath.

These two would be my loudest statement yet.

This time when I swung the chain, I aimed a little higher, too high.

The metal links dug into the asshole’s neck, severing his head from his body. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed as I watched his lifeless eyes roll around the pool table. In the movies, gallons of blood sprayed from the stump, soaking everyone around them. Reality was a lot duller. It was more of an ooze than a spray. Fuck sakes, the only drops of blood on the wall were from the chain.

Ah, well.

I spun around and smiled at the barbed wire boy.

“Your turn.”

* * *

“Fuck,”I grunted and pushed down on the head of pool table nimrod.

Driving a fence pole into someone’s skull was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I’d had to use a hammer for the other four, but I’d thought that this one would be easier since this pole had a spiked point. His fucking jawbone kept getting in the way. Every time I got it positioned, his mouth would drop open. Shouldn’t rigor mortis have set in by now?

Guess he got the hammer too.

It took me about six minutes to get it positioned. After which, I took a step back and admired my handiwork.

There was something oddly poetic about the five sets of dead eyes staring at me from a white picket fence. Well, except for the last one. I think I hit it too hard with the hammer. One of his eyes was bulging out. Then again, I suppose it could’ve been from the violent decapitation.

Whatever, it worked for what I had planned.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text.

Me: It’s Mathers. I need some chickens deep-fried.

While I waited for a response, I decided to video call a number I hadn’t dialed in years. There was a chance that it wouldn’t be in service anymore, but I highly doubted it. The ringing coming across the screen confirmed my suspicions. Jax was many things. Stupid wasn’t one of them. He’d have hung onto this phone on the off chance someone might call it. Like, say, his baby brother.

The call was answered by a voice talking from a black screen, like I said, Jax wasn’t stupid.

“Who the fuck…?” There was a brief pause before the camera clicked on, and my brother’s smug mug appeared. “Chase? I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Life is full of surprises.” The corner of my mouth lifted. “Like the one I just gave your boys.”

I leaned back against the fence and flung my arm over one of the poles decorated with a head.

Jax clenched his jaw and muttered out, “Motherfucker. He’s in West Brook.”

“That’s right, Asshole. I’m in West Brook.”

Jax leaned back, causing his chair to creak. Like me, my brother was a big boy.

“What we have here is our very own Cain and Abel situation. You don’t want things to get messy like last time, do you?”

That was his subtle way of threatening Riley and Naomi. I wasn’t worried about them. The Order would protect Riley, and he’d be too busy cleaning up after me to bother with Naomi.

“You’re forgetting something. This time the devil didn’t speak to Cain.” I took one last drag of my cigarette and flicked it into the pool of gasoline behind the fence. Flames licked up the sides of the house as I smirked back at the scowl on my brother’s face. “He helped Abel burn down Cain’s world.”

Jax’s dark, almost black eyes narrowed. “Even you aren’t that desperate.”

He knew exactly who I was talking about, and it sure as hell wasn’t the devil. I’m pretty sure the king of hell would drop kick this sick fuck out of hell. After I ran into the asshole a few weeks back, I told Jax about him. Not sure why I called my brother, then again I don’t remember much from those couple of days, other than the smell of burning flesh and a killer hangover.

D.W: How well done do you want them?

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