“Why the hell are you doing King’s dirty work?” Dickhead Number One piped up.
I wondered at the intelligence of the human race sometimes. Were we really as stupid as we sometimes appeared? And then as I thought back on my life, I was reminded that, yes, sometimes we were. Sometimes we were blind to what was right in front of us. I met his gaze and replied, “You’d be surprised at the dirty work I do for King. But this time, I’m doing it for my president, Marcus. And he’s told me to do whatever it takes to get that twenty grand out of you.”
He opened his mouth and uttered another string of stupidity, “I’ll pay you off to let me go. How much do you want?”
I cracked my knuckles and then shrugged. “I’d rather take my frustrations out on your face, asshole. In fact, I kinda hope you don’t come up with the money today. That way I can do what I do best.”
Dickhead Number Two’s eyes widened a touch. He had more brains than I gave him credit for. “What the fuck?”
I stepped closer to them, and said, “Yeah, that’s what I was gonna ask you. What the actual fuck were you thinking ripping a club president off?”
“We were going to pay him back.” Number One was almost pleading; well, his eyes were and I knew from experience his mouth would be soon, too.
I was just about to reply when Griff entered the alley. We were behind the bar where I’d found these two, and I was keen to get this over with because it fucking stunk from all the rubbish littering it.
Griff jerked his chin at me. “Which one owes the most?” he asked, his voice clear that he intended to carry out King’s wishes. Griff was the Vice President of the Brisbane Storm chapter and not a man to ever fuck with. In fact, he’d only just assumed this role after pushing out the prior VP. And that VP was the son of the president and I thought, a friend of Griff’s, so the ruthlessness of Griff’s actions was pretty fucking evident. Personally, I didn’t bother with friends and allies anymore, so it didn’t concern me either way. I simply trusted no-one. It seemed to be the best way to live.
I pointed at Dickhead Number One, and Griff moved towards him. Speaking in a low, menacing tone, he asked, “How’s this gonna play out, motherfucker?”
“I ain’t got the money if that’s what you’re asking.”
Griff didn’t waste time; his knuckles collided with the guy’s cheek a moment later. “Shall we begin again?”
Number One glared at Griff, and spat at his feet before saying, “You can’t get fucking blood out of a stone, asshole. Tell King he’ll get his money when I have it.”
My fist itched to be used but I waited for Griff’s signal. He’d been clear in his directions for this job; he wanted to have first go at these idiots before letting me loose. So I watched him, and I waited, because sure as fuck, these dickheads would need me to encourage them to pay up.
Griff’s hands latched onto Number One’s shirt, and he pulled the idiot towards him before spinning him around, letting him go, and punching him so hard in the face that the guy fell to the ground. Standing over him, Griff bent at the waist and bellowed in his face, “You ever fucking spit on me again, and you might not have a mouth left to fucking produce spit.” He straightened, and indicated for the guy to get up before turning to Dickhead Number Two. Pointing at him, he ordered, “You start thinking seriously about your next move. King wants the money you owe him too.” Turning back to Number One, he was pissed to find the guy still trying to get up. He shook his head and raised his fist, but I was surprised to see him lower it almost straight away, and turn to walk my way.
I gave him a questioning look but didn’t say anything; Griff wasn’t a big talker so I usually tried to keep communication with him to a minimum.
He shook his head in annoyance. Jerking his thumb in the guys’ direction, he muttered, “Fucked if I could be bothered. They’re all yours. I don’t have the fucking inclination to deal with this shit today.”
I nodded, thankful that Griff passed the job to me. It had been a shit week so far and I needed to get rid of my pent-up anger and frustration; these motherfuckers would help me with that. Griff pulled out his phone and made a call, leaving me to it.
Adrenaline coursed through me. This was the best part of my job, and I was fucking good at it. The results spoke for themselves and the club often called me in to take care of their shit around the country. I took a step towards Dickhead Number One, my gaze glued to his. Fear lurked in the depths of his eyes, and rightly so. I lifted my chin at him, and asked, “You got the money or do we have to find another way to settle this?”