Page 12 of Madame Mayhem

“Did you kill him, Bull?” I’m surprised at how even my voice comes out. I cross my arms one over the other, staring him in the eye.

Tumbleweeds dance in front of the bike, the wind picking up and I assess which way the fire’s gonna turn when this man burns amongst them.

Bull’s booming laughter cuts through the air and he’s almost crying. Searing rage and pain engulfs me, but Slash is holding me in place with a quick glance to wait. I know to wait, but a volcano of pain wants to erupt. It’s too close. Sweat is slick on my forehead already plastering loose threads of my hair to my face.

“Nix? Yeah, that sucker caught a bullet right between the eyes. Could you blame me? I did what I had to do.” Bull’s expression is cocky, and his defenses are down. He’s not going for his gun. Stupid. Stupido. He doesn’t know I’m fire. Bull’s underestimating me on every possible level.

“You son of a bitch!”I scream, hoping the coyotes eat his burnt remains when I’m done with his sorry ass.

“Snatch told me the cops said the same gun that killed Nix was the one used to kill my father. Tell me you didn’t off Axe Bull… My father was supposed to be your main man. You did that shit?” Slash steps in, sizing Bull up. He retreats one step, but we keep walking forward, backing him into the yard of the derelict house.

“Get the fuck outta here. I didn’t kill Axe. That’s a reach. I’m a fucking Vet, shooting a man is all in a day’s work for me. You gotta suck it up buttercup. Your father’s dead. Wah wah wah.”

Bull balls up his fists, pretending to cry. He’s mocking my father’s death. The only man I’ve ever truly loved. A double dose of fury fills my eyes and I cry out loud.

“You bastard!” I scream, letting my lungs expand with everything I got. Bull’s eyes are full of shock.

Slash shakes his head. “Should’na done that, Bull. You don’t know my old lady,” he grins.

I fly kick Bull in the face, throwing him off guard, feeling his nose snap. He’s confused, touching his nose as I open him up. Blood is trickling down to his lip. He licks it off, still in a daze. Big dummy. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you’re a whore! Why-”

I fly kick him again before he keeps talking shit and then I pull my gun, shooting his left foot.

“You think I’m fucking playing you old cunt!” Bull yelps with the excruciation of pain. It’s hard to see in the night, but I can see the darkness of blood running from his shoe and his nose.

“You fucking shot me!” he screams. “What-what, Slash, why are you letting her do this. I’m the fucking club president. Axe… he wouldn’t…” Bull stumbles, reaching for his gun, but Slash kicks out his leg from under him.

“You should have thought about that before you murdered our fathers. It was a bad move.” Slash’s smooth voice rings through, no remorse included.

“Now you got a little taste of the pain to come. It’s not over, we’re gonna spoil you with abuse. We’re gonna rock your motherfucking world. You ready big boy?” I’m in my element, and all the days of having to stare into the eyes of a killer are behind me. Redemption is ours.

“Please. Come on. Slash, come on. It’s not that bad.” He’s struggling to breathe, putting his hands on the ground trying to stay upright, but he can’t. He keeps dipping to the ground.

“You murdered two men and it’s time for you to meet your maker.”

“Fiona, what about Lily. Come on. You shot me in the foot, you can turn this around now.”

“Turn this around?” I approach Bull yanking his silver-white old man hair back so I can witness the terror in his eyes. Slash jogs back from the bike with the can of kerosene pouring it in Bull’s eyes as he gurgles.

“Arghhhh! Slash!” he splutters spitting it out. I jump around spitting on his head.

“Burn bitch, burn! Haha!”

Chapter Six: Madame

Fiona

Deeds been done and it’s a secret taken to the dungeon between me and my man. Redemption in the highest order for the Dark Angels and my baby’s gonna rule the throne. That’s just what he’s gonna do.

A salty chortle graces my lips as I think back to the ass kicking we gave that man, then we put right where he belonged, in the heart of the rat infested traphouse. His face hopefully is getting gnawed at as we speak. Am I a savage? Yes, I fucking am.

I’m kicking back in the booth sipping on Jack and coke listening to guitar ringing out through the airwaves. The clubhouse is quiet. More so than normal, but I know things will get back to a new normal now, minus the bullshit.

I look around admiring the clubhouse, who knew this would be the place I would call home. I tap my fingers on the table a small sliver of happiness returning.

“Love you Dad. That one was for you and me both. Hope you’re proud of your baby.”

I close my eyes letting myself sway to the meaty strum of the guitar. I feel a layer of myself shed after last night and I took another bastard from the world.

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