CHAPTER FIVE
GHOST
“What the fuckdo you mean, they broke into the garage and stole everything?!” I bark at the three young prospects. One is crying, the fucking pathetic little shit.
“The girls from the toy store came and delivered the gifts. They were fucking hot and smelt so damn good. We got distracted with them, and we forgot to lock the gate back up,” the one we call Shorty explains. He’s the only one that has had the balls to look me in the eye and apologise directly. He ain’t forgiven, but I admire his backbone.
My brothers stand behind me, their arms crossed over their chests, their gazes as menacing and deadly as mine. Our tools have been stolen, our fucking bike parts, and probably worst of all, the fucking present for the kids. Our fucking kids.Myfucking kids.
Rage steps forward, with Erebus snarling next to him. I swear that fucking dog is smarter than most humans. Rage stands nose to nose with the Prospect that is crying. Normally I would have to warn him to go easy on them, but this time I’m too fucking pissed. I would slaughter them all right now. No, fuck that. I would tell Star what has happened and let her fucking deal with their pathetic asses.
“Why are you crying? Your mama die?” Rage asks him.
“N-no,” he stutters. I look at his patch, checking for his name. I don’t get to know their names until they have surpassed six months. After Bambi, I’m not ready to lose another brother. It’s just easier if I don’t get attached to them.
Erebus lets out a growl as Rage steps closer to them. “Black Hearts don’t fucking cry when they’ve been caught fucking up,” Rage seethes. “We face it.” He pauses to pull something out of his pocket. “You see this? This is the eyes of the last weasel that couldn’t stop crying and snivelling, begging for his life. All because he had been caught beating his workers.” He shoves the plastic food bag containing the two eyeballs of the last fucker we took care of. I don’t get his fucking obsession with collecting body parts.
The Prospect gags and barrels over, throwing up. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“He ain’t Black Hearts worthy,” Rage states with disgust.
I signal for them to strip him of his Cut and kick his ass out. Hawk and Scar step forward, lifting the Prospect off his knees and yanking his Cut from him.
“Time to leave. You come back, we will kill you. You talk, we will kill you. You ever speak the club’s name...” Scar pauses. “We will fucking kill you,” he threatens. The Prospect’s face turns ashen with fear before Scar slams his head down on the Prospect’s, knocking him out. Fucking pussy isn’t worthy of our patch.
They drag him out, his feet dragging behind him.
I turn my attention back to the other two. “You ever want to become a brother, the patch always comes first. The brotherhood comes fucking first. Family fucking first!” I bark, making them flinch. “Your punishment is undecided. For now, you will go and fucking hunt down who did this, and you don’tcome back until you have some information,” I order. They both nod and briskly leave.
“Can I say when I fucked up and fell asleep while being lookout for the gunrunners, I was made to stay on lookout for a week, and every time I was caught asleep, you fuckers tasered me,” Hap points out.
Hawk laughs. “Fuck yeah, that was funny. Didn’t you piss your pants?”
“Yeah, I did, after the third fucking time Acid tasered me,” Hap grumbles.
Acid chuckles and shakes his head at the memory.
“All laughter aside, we need to find our fucking stuff. I don’t give a shit about the parts. I care about the presents for the kids that have been stolen from our fucking family,” I seethe.
The brothers all grunt in agreement. “I checked the CCTV. The fuckers were masked, but I caught partial plates. Plus, one of them was wearing the most ridiculous pair of cowboy boots,” Cash states.
That has my attention. “Diamond-encrusted cowboy boots?” I ask.
Cash shrugs. “I guess. They just sparkled like they were covered in fucking glitter.”
“Fucking Baskin Brothers,” I sigh.
“For real?” Spider asks, arching his brow. “I knew those fucks were stupid, but I didn’t realise they were that fucking stupid.”
“Want me to call the Prospects?” Beast asks, pulling his cell from his pocket.
“Nah, let them stress the fuck out trying to find our shit,” I state as Scar and Hawk walk back in.
“Baskin Brothers,” I state.
“Not those hillbilly motherfuckers,” Hawk sighs. “They freak me the fuck out.” He shudders.
“Nah, they’re just dumb fucks.” Scar tuts.
