Page 6 of Fury

I follow Chevy back upstairs, watching as he grabs a set of car keys. “We have a job at the fight club,” he tells me.

“I can follow on my bike,” I say as we head out to a sleek black SUV.

He shakes his head. “Not an option. Whilst you’re here, you’ll drive one of these cars out front.” He gets into the driver’s side, and I climb into the passenger side. “If I were you, I’d keep my head down and do as I’m told. The more you protest, the longer he’ll have you cleaning up shit.”

We arrive at the club and go through the back doors. The place is empty, and the smell of stale sweat is heavy. He unlocks a door at the back of the room, and we head down a set of stone steps. He turns on a light, and I wince at the sight of a bloodied male lying on a plastic sheet on the floor.

“The tools you need are there,” says Chevy, pointing to a table of various saws and knives.

I frown. “What am I meant to do with that lot?”

He grins. “Cut him up,” he says simply.

My eyes widen as I stare at the lifeless body. “Are you shitting me?”

He shakes his head and points to a barrel. “Put him in the acid. Gloves for that are on the table too.” And then he turns around and goes back up the stairs. “I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

I stare down at the body in disbelief. It’s not like I’ve not done my fair share of disposals, but we have a clean-up team in the MC, so it’s been a while since I had to get my hands dirty. I groan, grabbing a saw from the table and dropping to my knees.

Each slice pissesme off further. I drop each body part into the drum of acid, one by one until there’s nothing left but the bloodied sheet. I add that into the drum and pull off my gloves, wiping my sweaty brow on the back of my hand. My mobile rings, and I see Axel’s name. I accept and hold it to my ear.

“Pres,” I greet.

“Just checking in.”

“You wouldn’t believe what I’m fucking doing,” I spit, staring at the bloodied saw on the table. “Clean-up.”

“Shit, he’s really gonna make you pay. Who’s he getting rid of?”

“Looks like it was a fight to the death,” I mutter. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare these days.

“Yeah, I heard rumours that he runs that kind of shit. He’s a sick fucker, which is why I told you to avoid fighting in his club. Come and see me when you get back.”

“Sure,” I say on a sigh, disconnecting.

Xanthe

Jorja tucks into her salad,waiting for me to fill her in. It’s been over a week since we last met up, which is a long time for us, but I’ve been working extra shifts all week.

“He was sweet,” I tell her.

She arches a brow. “The guy was loaded. He was in the VIP area. Did he at least kiss you?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Ugh,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t want him to kiss me,” I say, shrugging. “I mean, not because I didn’t fancy him, because I really did.” We both laugh. “But I want him to be different, yah know?”

“A gentleman?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, relieved she gets me. “I’m so tired of men just after one thing. I’m ready now. I want the happily ever after.”

“And you think rich guy could be it?”

I shrug, smiling when I think of the guy we met last week on a night out. He was smooth yet sweet. “He’s been texting me all week, and even made sure he got me a lift home on my late shift.”

“Got you a lift?” she questions.

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