Page 31 of Kings of Decay
Willow's old man came to pick her up. I hadn't heard what he said to her, but I assumed she was in a load of shit based on how mad he looked. Part of me felt pity for her, but the rest of me just wished I could have got my cock inside her before the party went to hell.
I was shaken from the memory by my father slapping me on the shoulder. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Do about what?" I asked.
"Sargent Reed," my father said. "That was the last straw. He's been sneaking around like a dog."
"Pay him off," I said.
"You know he's a man with morals," My father's lips curled with disgust. "I need you to get him off our trail. People are still suspicious about Jim Reese. You shouldn’t have wasted your time with that man. You don’t need the money. People know you killed him."
"And yet no one is going to say a damn thing," I argued, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. I killed for my father’s business most of the time. Freelance vigilantism was just for shits and giggles.
"Everyone except Reed," my father countered. "You know what to do."
I waited a moment before replying, already feeling my heartbeat quicken at the thought of another kill." I guess that'd be a fun way to spend my Wednesday night."
My father tightened his meaty fingers around my shoulder, his gold ring glinting in the light. "That's my boy."
***
We tracked down Trooper Reed in a speed trap near the highway. The same highway that would be snowed out in a matter of weeks.
Ainsley kept tabs on every law enforcement vehicle from here to Fairbanks. He'd already shut off the trooper's dashcam remotely. When they looked, there'd be nothing but dead footage. Technology was as powerful as a gun or a knife to him.
"So we're going to speed past like bats out of hell, let him pull us over, and be done with it," I said.
Ainsley's hands tightened on the steering wheel. We were driving some old beat-up red truck that we bought for cash. Something that would be hard to trace back to us. Killing troopers was always risky.
"Are you sure you don't want to try talking to him first?"
"What are you, a pussy?" I snarled.
Ainsley glared at me. "You know I'm not."
"Then get going," I said.
My brother put the gear shift into fifth and stomped on the gas.
The rickety truck blasted past the trooper's SUV with surprising speed. The little rust bucket had some power.
Ainsley gunned it, and the engine roared as the tachometer red-lined.
I smirked. "You're having fun, aren't you?" I shouted over the roar of the engine.
He glanced at me, eyes flashing with excitement.
We loved the rush, the adrenaline pumping through our veins.
It was just like hunting. The high we got from it, the power of having someone's life in your hands.
The trooper's lights flashed bright in our rearview mirror, and he quickly gained on us.
We were nearing a narrow turn on the highway, one that would make passing us a risky endeavor. I could see the determination in Ainsley's eyes as he slammed on the brakes.
"Shit!" I cursed as the truck skidded onto the gravel shoulder, the tires kicking up rocks.
The SUV followed us, but it struggled to maintain traction.
