Page 2 of Butcher

Snorting in derision, I grabbed the file folder and stood. “Nobody rushes me. I require half the deposit up front. You’ll owe the second half upon his death.”

He reached over, never breaking my stare, and tapped a button on his computer. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Lovely doing business with you, Rand.”

“It’s Randal,” he said from between clenched teeth, but I was already walking out of his office.

It was important to keep men like that on their toes. My fingers itched to open the file I was holding and delve into the man who’d managed to kill no less than seven of the world’s assassins. I couldn’t say the best, because at least half were second-rate, but the other half… They werealsogood at their jobs. I was going to need to tread carefully or I’d end up in the morgue next to them.

I wasn’t sure what kind of man had the ability to take out so many professional killers, but I was about to find out.

CHAPTER 1

Butcher

Two Weeks Later

“He needs to know,” Hush said, shoving both Toxic and I into Lockout’s office and shutting the door before we could walk back out.

I was still prepared to try, but Lock cleared his throat and motioned to the chairs on the other side of his desk. Toxic and I exchanged a glance as we sat.

Lock waited for a few seconds before sighing. “I need to know what?”

“Oh,” Toxic said, “nothing big. Just about some guy who almost killed us.”

“Triedto kill us. Nobody who ever tries to kill me gets a second chance,” I said with a grin.

Lock stilled and glanced back and forth between us. He reachedup and rubbed at his forehead.

I shot Toxic a look and found him already staring at me with a grim expression on his face. I didn’t need him to voice his concerns aloud because I knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. Lock needed something to take the stress out on before he blew up and went full lockout on everything around him.

The man was wound so fucking tight, I wasn’t sure that this wouldn’t push him over the edge. Now, here was where Toxic and I differed. Toxic would say that Lock needed to get himself some pussy. And while I could agree that coming in a hot cunt could take the pressure off,Iwould argue that Lock needed to kill someone.

There was nothing quite like snuffing out someone’s lifeforce. It eased all the raging demons inside of me anyway. Violence always had a way of calming me. Since I was very well aware that my methods couldn’t be understood by the normies—why else would my mother have me tested so much as a child—I usually defaulted to Toxic’s ideas.

His were less likely to get us both deemed psychopaths, even though that was technically what I was. It was better if people didn’t realize it. My brothers knew, of course. There wasn’t anything I could really keep from my club. And I was pretty sure their women realized as well. The kids around here would one day, when they didn’t see everything with childlike wonder.

One other thing I knew, Iwasn’ta sociopath. If there was any question, the hope gnawing at my chest that those kids wouldn’t turn away from me, when they figured out what I was, would have left no room for doubt.

Another heavy sigh pulled my attention back to my president. This man had saved my life. He’d found me a few years after my CIA team had been disbanded, and they’d unleashed me back on an unsuspecting world with nothing left to focus my rage on, and brought me into the club.

I’d chucked my cell phone when I was released, and went no contact with everyone, so I was surprised to find out later that Toxic was in the MC as well. Turned out he was the one who let Lock knowabout me. Lock had found me before I’d managed to do anythingtoostupid.

Or glorious. It’s all a matter of perspective.

Well, my handler—the person they assigned to watch over me after I’d been turned loose—wouldn’t agree that I hadn’t done anything stupid. But shehadhelped me clean up some messes. I think she was ecstatic when Lock took me in and promised to keep an eye on me. I couldn’t exactly take offense. Not when the urge to maim and kill grew within me so often.

“You’re telling me that another person has tried to kill you?” he asked, still rubbing his forehead.

My reflexes kicked in and I took solace with absolute truth. “Noone personhas tried to kill me.”Severalpeople had tried to kill me. Toxic kicked my shin. “Ow. Fucker…” I caught Lock’s scowl and cleaned my throat, “I mean, today, yes, one guy tried.”

The first incident was three months ago, when we’d been on our way to the hospital to meet Dani and Smokehouse’s new baby. I wasn’t sure why I needed to meet a new baby, but Toxic had told me it was expected of me so I went.

We hadn’t gone together, but the fucker who failed to hit me with his car and had run when I’d confronted him—and beat his ass—had then gone after Toxic. My fault. His attempt was so sloppy and amateurish compared to professional hits that it didn’t occur to me that itwasan actual hit. It wasn’t until he tried the same rookie stunt on Toxic that I suspected that he’d been going after both of us. Which meant itwasn’trandom.

The next two months especially confirmed my suspicions when more men had come after us. We’d killed them all and disposed of the bodies. Not wanting to add to Lock’s stress we’d decided to keep quiet about it. We couldn’t this last time because Hush had been on a ride with us.

“Today?” Lock asked. “How many in total since that first time?”

I shot Toxic a questioning look and he shrugged. I took that as confirmation to finally admit to our president what had been going on. “Well,” Ihesitated as Lock dropped his hand and that intense gaze zeroed in on me. I swore he could read my mind at times. Not sure if that was more worrisome for me or him. Me, because my mind was a fucked up place. And him, well, because my mind was areallyfucked up place. “Eight.”

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