Page 9 of Malice and Surrender
I did look over at Kai then. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or what his tone meant. His face held no emotion and gave none of his thoughts away.
Unsure what to say about the murderous announcement. I decided he was simply joking and asked the next best question. “You ever wonder if people who don’t celebrate Halloween come here and wonder what the fuck is wrong with everyone? I mean, can you picture getting off a plane and everyone outside the airport is dressed up like this?” I pointed to my Cat Woman outfit and smiled.
It took a second, but the impish grin returned to his features, and the hard stare from a moment ago disappeared. “Can you imagine if they saw the pair of guys dressed up like a toaster and a condom back there?”
We both laughed, and just like that, the awkward tension burst, and once more, we were simply two best friends hanging out.
I finished the last of my disgusting healthy drink just as I reached my front door. A honk from the road made me jump and turn. My heart rate tripled for a second until my eyes found Avro, who’d pulled up in his car.
“Fuck girl, you’re running late. Hurry up, and I’ll give you a ride to work.”
“Okay,” I called out and pushed open the door. Nervous energy made me shiver, but it was time that I put Kai and all the shit he put me through in the past. I was done letting the memory of him control me any longer. Taking a deep breath, I turned around again.
“Did you want to wait in here?”
“That’s okay. I know you won’t be long, and I have a couple of calls I need to make,” Avro yelled back and picked up his phone.
The lone butterfly that always flitted around when Avro was near floated to the pit of my stomach. Now that I wanted him to come in, I was hurt by his refusal. Was I ever going to stop being a confused mess?
I’d officially banished Kai McMillan from my life and my mind, and yet the lasting effects continued to touch all corners of my life.
Kaivan
It was times like this that made me wonder if the universe decided on the day I was born that no matter what I chose to do with my life, this was what I would end up doing.
Enforcer in a motorcycle club wasn’t a bad gig. I got paid well for my duties and didn’t need much. It all got put away for…I had no idea what for, but that didn’t matter. I got to hang out with Roach and Mannix, and in another six months, Hollywood would be free. I slept when I wanted, ate what I liked, and fucked at least once a day. Really, what more did a guy need?
Had I always had what it took to watch the blood drain from a body and the life dim in their eyes? Had I always been able to feel nothing as they begged to live or screamed in pain as I did unspeakable things to them? No, of course not. I wasn’t a psychopath. But I could clearly remember a handful of times growing up when murdering someone had piqued my interest. Usually, that was because some dick was staring at Raine.
Now, finding Raine, wrapping my hands around her throat, and slowly squeezing the life out of her body had been an ongoing fantasy throughout my time in prison. I’d lain in bed many a night and dreamed of that moment over and over. How times had changed.
I’d created a calendar that counted down the days until I was free. This was nothing unusual, but what was unusual was that at the very end, all I put was RE. When the guards asked what it stood for, I said, ‘rest and evaluate what to do with my life now I am free.’ The parole board had been very impressed with that answer. Bunch of idiots.
It stood for Raine Eastman, the girl who ruined my life. Finding her and making her pay had been my singular goal for so long, but once I was free, I’d been too busy. I joined the Lost Souls officially, and only a few short months after my release, Mathers left a path of murder and destruction in his wake as he got high on the shit we were supposed to sell.
I’d spent almost every waking hour since that moment cleaning up one disaster after another for fucking Chase. This included killing innocent people who’d seen him do it because his sloppy ass made them a liability. I didn’t mind killing. In fact, I enjoyed it most of the time now, but to have to shoot a grandmother of three because Mathers couldn’t keep his head screwed on straight was not my idea of a good time. I mourned for her. I didn’t want to fucking mourn anyone. I hated him all the more for turning me into a full-fledged monster. For turning me into my father.
I missed a lot while I was locked up but spending the little bit of time I had in a day to hunt down Raine and make her pay was not as enticing as it once was. Secretly, a part of me worried that I would have nothing left to keep me going once she was six feet under. Roach would’ve laughed his ass off at me if I had told him that.
I made the mistake of mentioning Raine to Chase one day, and he offered to take care of the bitch for me. I almost punched him out. I didn’t know what to make of the strange emotions, but for now, I didn’t want that chapter of my life to end. She changed me, made me into the man who could rip another’s heart out without blinking. I hadn’t even decided if what happened had been the best story ever written or the worst that could’ve happened. That was what Raine was to me, a story waiting to be finished, and I needed to decide how I wanted it to end.
I took a moment to look around at my work and smiled. Blood coated the floor and decorated the walls like I’d tried my hand at abstract art and just happened to be using red paint. It was truly amazing how much blood was in the human body. It was equally impressive how it flew when you were cutting someone up.
The Weasel Legionnaires used this warehouse to store their overflow. It was a fair distance outside of the city and not manned unless they needed to get something. These two asswipes were supposed to be on guard duty for Halloween while the rest of the club was out partying. I still couldn’t get over the fucking name. Who the fuck wanted to be part of a motorcycle group with that rat shit name? Weasel Legionnaires? What idiot came up with that?
I glanced over at the man screaming like a little pansy in the corner. His eyes were filled with terror as he stared at the severed head in my hands. Surprisingly, his screams could barely be heard over the movie Saw, which played in the background. It was a little dramatic, even for me, but it seemed fitting. Besides, I liked it, and having it playing was sick, psychological warfare. I wished with all my heart that I could be a fly on the wall when this club of assholes found their two members and cleaned up this mess.
A really sick part of me hoped they didn’t show up for a couple of days, so it would give the flesh time to rot in the heat.
I’m a sick fuck, but I loved it.
The first guy was already dead. Cutting him up had taken some work, even using the table saw in the corner. It would’ve helped if he hadn’t been alive and trying to escape, but the living gave me much better screams.
Now those parts decorated the empty warehouse and hung from the rafters with rope, like bloody, crimson snowflake decorations. I was surprised that the guy had as much fight in him as he had, considering the massive quantities of alcohol I’d watched him consume. He’d done more little white lines off the bar than I could count, which made it impressive that he could stand, let alone scream and fight while I slowly chopped him up.
The second man—Mutt, was his name—screams reached all new levels as I ripped the two eyes out from the severed head and threaded the rope between the sockets like I was making a cranberry string.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Mutt said, then leaned over to heave for the eighth time.
