Rolling my lighter around in between my fingers I look out over the carpark of the compound and thought about how much I fought to be here, to be the Viper. Gain my patch and the Enforcer rank.
“It’s a lot to lose, you know,” I push out taking the last few drags of my smoke and flicking my butt to the dirt below, watching as embers flick up and go out on the wind.
“What, ya dick or ya patch?” Flame slaps my chest smirking at me
“That's not even funny,” I bite out, my tone cold.
“It kinda is. The Prez will fucking cut the patch from you and your skin, then her twin will cut ya dick off if you touch her sister.”
I watch him smile into the dark, his white teeth lighting up the dark space around him. All I wanna do is smack him in his goddamn face, crunching bones will calm me down. My brother’s not really a good idea so I do the next best thing.
Pulling myself up to my feet, “Wanna blow shit up, Flame?” I question walking toward the shed.
“Fuck yes, Brother. You know it,” his voice excited. He's a goddamn fire bug that one.
It’s been a while since I’ve been on a good killing spree.” My mind runs over the last time I took a life and fucked shit up. It would have been a run eight months ago when shit went south, and we had to take out a rival chapter that thought they could roll into the motel complex we were at and kill us. Fuck, please, you forget who we are motherfuckers. We have informants everywhere. Pulling the black leather gloves over my fingers and curling them over the steering wheel of the black van, Ilook to the back at Flame, turning so I can see just what the hell this fire bug has pulled out of…
“Fuck, Brother, tonight is just a small job, aye.” Gesturing toward him and the three open duffle bags. Hell, I seen him load one into the van.
“Yeah, Bro, I know.” There’s a gleam in his eyes as a sick and twisted grin wraps over his lips.
“Then why the fuck do you have like ten pounds of explosives, wires, gadgets and god knows what else?” I ask raising my brow at him.
“I want to be prepared,” his tone light. Shaking my head pulling my gun from the seat next to me. Checking how many bullets are in the chamber.
Cracking the door and jumping out into the dark night. The cool air is welcoming to my heated skin. The prickles of hair over my body rippling to attention, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings and the task at hand. Blow up their meth lab, which is a trailer located to the left of the house behind the double shed. That will go up with the trailer as well as the back windows of the house. Shoot up the front of the house sending a message, drugs are not welcome in this town. You go through the Ace of Spades for fucking anything. We own this town.
Flame was mumbling in the back about some shit he forgot as I pulled the door open for him. His eyes burned into mine. I knew that look meant he was mad. Mad at himself, about to take it out on someone or something. Mad at the fuckers that he has come to blow up. Just plain pissed off.
“Screw it,” he said as he zipped his duffle bag jumping from the back of the truck slinging the bag that is at least twenty pounds over his shoulder.
“Let's go blow shit up and call it a day. Ok, brother?”
I lay and wait, watching as my brother does his magic. Watching him set the bomb was the easy part, keeping his cover intact was more challenging. These guys were on watch. Man, we had crawled through a back, muddy field to reach the back of the property.
Staying hidden whileFlame worked with calculated precision, the right wires to the right place in a color coding only he understood, using a trigger he had designed himself, his signature. Everyone around knew that this was a special type of assassin, passionate and fucking clever. We heard the talk on the streets surrounding the jobs and explosions Flame has done. Knowing it's him when the cops and forensics teams can't even scratch the surface of figuring out just who is behind them all.
Flame leaves his mark in the way of one less drug lab fucking our streets up with the added bonus of aYour Welcomeburned into the grass, dirt, wood, concrete, whatever, whenever, wherever. I watched him with intent as he sat back and pulled his phone out to take a picture. It was art, and as always, he wanted to remember itwhole and pretty. His words, not mine. I would have said dark and full of karma but hey, it’s Flame and I like my Harley whole. Not in a million burnt pieces all over the compound.
Then he slid the phone back into the zipper pocket on the inside of his cut and armed it to explode on his command. Then he left, using his remote to loop the camera feeds for twenty seconds each time he passed one, also his own design, he like to re-watch each blow. These guys are fucked. It's like porn to him. Army crawling our way through the side of the property to the front of the house and standing, his eyes looked at mine as he wiggled his eyebrows
“Ready, Brother?” I asked him.
“Does this boner tell you otherwise.” Grabbing his hard dick and jiggling it, I scoffed.
“Fuck me,” I bit out as I turned my eyes to the house.
“5,4,3,2 and 1 fuck yeah motherfucker,” his voice screamed out and echoed back out over the dark night as lights in dark rooms lit up and doors were flung open.
Voices called out; one minute there was a meth lab at the back of the house and the next, a rising ball of blackened orange-red flame was baking the startled air. The windows shook so violently that when we opened fire it was a welcome relief to the stained glass and it just splintered around the walls as guys flew from different directions. We just turned to them and opened fire onthe house, cars, and bikes. It pained me to shoot a good bike, flinching with each bullet. Two minutes of straight shooting; empty, reload, empty, reload. Pulling my fresh clip from the waistband of my jeans as we ran back toward the van. Jumping in and wiping sweat from our brows, smiles rolled over our blackened faces.
“Well done, brother,” patting Flame on the back as he threw his ten-pound lighter bag into the back.
Driving back to the clubhouse all I could think of was Senna. How much I wanted to fuck the pain away from doing what I do. It haunts me, you know. Killing. Flame, he gets high on this shit. I do it because I have to. It’s expected. It’s what was bred into me and it's what I have become.
Loyalty, honor and respect.
Kill, clean-up, fix.
