Page 15 of Risk
I’m fuckinglivid as I march back to my bike, my feet pounding the dirt as the debris jumps in the air with each stomp of my boots. Three pussies were surrounding the exits of her building, guarding it, and preventing her escape if she were to need it. Who are these fuckers and why do I get the feeling they were there for her? That’s what’s eating at me the most. Who the hell wants to keep her trapped? The guys, none too easily, dump the men on the ground, relieving themselves of the burden of their additional weight, and since they were knocked the hell out after getting mouthy with us, they don’t move a muscle other than flopping to their sides.
“Take a snap of their faces and send it to Auto so he can do that facial recognition thing he does,” Conan orders. Reg, Rev, and Midas pull their phones from their cuts and begin snapping pictures. Conan sidles up next to me and asks, “You doing alright?”
“I don’t know how to answer that, VP,” I admit. “Until we know who these assholes are and what they were doing there, I won’t be able to.”
“We’ll get you some answers, brother. I need to make a call and get a van here to escort our guests to the clubhouse. If they start to wake up, put them back under.” He steps a few feet away from me as he presses a button on his phone and lifts it to his ear. He stays within my line of sight but turns his back. I don’t tune into his conversation—I know what he’s doing. Right now, my attention is solely focused on the three lumps sprawled out on the asphalt.
I grit my teeth when the temptation to drop kick them swarms me. I don’t give that first fuck that they’re defenseless, that’s their problem, not mine. My fists are clenched at my sides and my knuckles pop each time I ball them tighter. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve released my anger, and these guys will be the perfect outlet for all of that built up rage inside of me.
“Stixx and Roscoe will be here in five with the van and ties so we can bind their ankles and wrists. Got anything on your bike that’ll work in the meantime?” Conan asks.
“You know I do just like I know you do,” I say, calling him out.
“I may but that doesn’t mean I want to use up my stock,” Conan lies. The fucker. “Anyway, you need something to do before you flip out on us.”
“I’ve got this,” I grind out. “I’m in complete control.”
“I call bullshit,” Conan snorts. “Do you want to tie them up or not? I’ll do it if you don’t want to but I thought it’d be a great way to drain some of that anger.”
“How so?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Because they don’t need their circulation and you could make the knots as tight as you’d like,” he states, mimicking my dominant pose.
“That’d only be a temporary band-aid,” I retort. “And it may snap them out of their comatose state.”
He chuckles, his upper body shaking as he says, “That sounds like fun. They’ll be flopping around like a fish out of water.”
“You always did like catching the big ones,” I grunt. “You know once one starts floundering around they’re all gonna hear that and react.”
“That’s alright. If they aren’t good boys I may have to filet them right here on the streets,” Conan comments, a note of excitement in his voice.
As I go to say a smartass remark, the van pulls up and I glare at my brother. “You were distracting me, weren’t you?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation,” he laughs, smacking me on the shoulder. “Let’s get our catch back home so we can play.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, as Stixx hops out of the passenger seat with zip ties in his hands.
“See you boys have a special delivery for me,” Stixx says, his eyes maniacally dancing.
“The only thing we didn’t do was gift wrap it for you,” Conan snickers.
“That’s okay, I’ve got my special ribbon with me,” Stixx cackles, holding up the plastic ties. “You know this is my favorite season of the year.”
I roll my eyes at their antics. “What season is that, Stixx?”
“Anytime I receive a gift is a holiday for me, Risk,” he informs me, never losing that fanatical look.
“We aim to please,” Conan jokes, bending at the waist and bowing. “Let’s get these fuckers bound and in the van. We need to have church before we question these motherfuckers.”
The three stowaways were K the fuck O’ed. They never blinked while being trussed up and tossed unceremoniously into the back of the club van. Roscoe hit every bump on the way back, and when asked, he reported they never even moaned.
That was very anticlimactic in my opinion. I wanted them to feel every jerk of the wheel and pothole that was run through. If I were in a better mood, there would’ve been a pout on my face when that was disclosed.
Now, I’m sitting across the table from my brothers, waiting for Conan to catch Kodiak up so we can move forward and I can get my pound of flesh. I may not know the reasons for them lurking around McKenna’s building, but the fact that they were there at all is reason enough for me to make them swallow their teeth.
“Other than them staking out McKenna’s apartment, we know nothing else?” Kodiak asks.
“No. They got lippy so we Mike Tyson’d them,” Conan answers.
