Page 1 of Malice

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Maliceshovedonehandthrough his hair and wished, not for the first time in recent days, that it was long enough to tangle in his fingers and pull. His teeth ached with the need for that sting to help distract himself.

He wondered again why he’d agreed to join this group of men. He’d sworn years ago he’d never go back to ranch work, yet here he was on the back of a fucking horse headed out to check a fucking fence.

Most of what the club stood for, of why he’d decided to join up with the Demented Souls, was worth it. Hell, if he cared to dissect it that far, he would admit, if only to himself, that he’d been a loner for too long. It was good to have brothers again, even if he was temporarily the low man on the totem pole. At least in terms of patched brothers. That wouldn’t last. He’d recently been patched in and was now a full brother just like the others, or most of them. They’d also recently approved a couple more prospects. And these weren’t like he’d been. An old buddy, an already patched member had reached out to and recommended him. That, along with the recent formation of this chapter, meant he’d gotten an abbreviated prospect period. These new guys wouldn’t get that.

Malice just wished getting back in with Ghost and the men he now considered his brothers didn’t mean ranch work. In the nearly fifteen years since he’d graduated high school and joined the army, he hadn’t missed it.

Okay, so he might have missed the horses, at least once in a while, but he hadn’t missed the cold days and colder nights working cattle, mending fences and more. And now he found himself right back here doing the exact same things he thought he’d gotten away from forever.

Just goes to show how little you really know about life when you think you’re an adult and think you have your life planned out.

He reached the hole in the fence and swung off the back of his horse to get busy, his mind still somewhere else. Anywhere but standing in this damned cold, fixing what felt like the millionth fence in his life.

Afewhourslater,Malice sat in a diner across the street from the local feed store the ranch used. When Lurch had mentioned someone needed to go into town to pick up the feed order, Malice had jumped at the opportunity to get off the ranch for an hour or two. He was extending the trip a bit by having dinner while he waited for the feed to be loaded.

They’d have it done long before he was, but it was a local business that the ranch owner and the club trusted so they’d move the truck out of the way when they were done, then he’d just have to go pick it up. In the meantime, he was going to spend a little while with people. Well, around people and not the men he sometimes felt were living in his ass pocket.

Fuck. They needed to do something about the living quarters at the ranch. A bunk house might be efficient, and functional for the last couple hundred years, but it reminded him way too much of barracks. He thought he’d been shut of that shit when he’d left the army.

No, at a couple years past thirty he wanted more than a bed and three meals a day. Not that the ranch work didn’t pay decent, but it went farther when you didn’t have to pay rent or gas back and forth to work. He understood the draw, but the older he got, the less willing he was to put up with someone else’s shit. And after the last few months stuck in the bunk house with men who were mostly strangers? He needed some space of his own. He was almost ready to go toss his bedroll in the back of a pickup just to not have to listen to a half dozen men snoring and farting all night.

“What can I get for you tonight, sweetheart?”

Malice blinked and shook his head, pulling himself back to the moment. There was an older woman in a bubble gum pink waitress uniform standing beside his table, looking at him expectantly.

“Um…” he mumbled as he glanced at the menu, trying to remember if he’d even looked at it before letting his mind drift. “Can I get a burger?”

“Of course, what do ya want on it?”

He let his eyes scan the laminated sheet until something caught his eye.

“How about the mushroom Swiss burger? And can I get bacon added to that?”

“No problem. Anything but the coffee to drink?” she nodded to the cup that she’d filled when she’d given him the menu several minutes before.

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll get this in, and it will be out before you know it.” She gave him a friendly smile then turned to hurry away. He wondered how she could be so cheerful and happy this close to the end of what had to be a long day on her feet.

“Thanks,” he said to her retreating back.

Determined not to let himself sink back into his grouchy funk, Malice looked around, noticing for the first time several of the other diners were alone, like he was. While dining alone wasn’t uncommon, at least for him, he’d noticed that he didn’t commonly see women doing the same. He’d wondered why but never asked anyone. Never thought to ask when he’d had someone around. Now though, there were at least three women seated around the place, seemingly on their own.

He wondered if the reason for the unusual numbers was the diner, the town, or something else entirely. Not that it mattered, but it gave him something to think about than things he couldn’t change, at least not right now.

“I told you we had plans. What the hell are you doing here after I told you where we needed to be tonight?” A man’s voice caught Malice’s attention.

It only took him a moment to spot the two a few tables away. A man stood beside a table, glowering down at the woman sitting there, calmly. Malice didn’t stare, but watched them out of the corner of his eye, wondering if maybe he should step in.

“And I told you that you no longer have any say over me, Phillip. I broke up with you. Last week. You are no longer part of my life. I’m an adult and I will decide what I do and when.” The woman kept her voice calm but firm. “So please see yourself out. Don’t worry about returning the hoodie I left the other day. I’ll replace it.”

“We’ll see about that.” The man reached to grab the woman’s arm, but she dodged him. “You need to come home with me now.”

“It’s your home, Phillip, not mine. It was never my home, I just stayed there sometimes. I told you that already. I suggest you leave before you make a scene, and someone calls the police. That wouldn’t look good on your record.”

Malice watched as the man’s face turned purple. His jaw bulged and Malice could tell he was fighting the urge to do or say something more. An itch at the back of his neck told him that something wasn’t good.

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