“Fuck you,” was all I managed to grunt before he kicked me again, causing me to fall over and curl up into the mud, gasping like a goldfish.
“You know, I meant what I said earlier, Hatch. It wasn’t just tough talk or me trying to get into your head.”
As Warlock spoke, I tried and failed to get up. My stomach muscles seized and spasmed from what were surely several broken ribs, and my lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. I was almost paralyzed, forced to listen to Warlock’s taunts as my body betrayed me.
“Once I kick you to death, I’m taking your wife as my victory trophy. To be honest, I’d love nothing more than to fuck her right in front of you, then kill you, but this’ll have to do.”
“You touch…her and my…club…will kill…you,” I struggled to pant out.
Warlock wagged his finger. “Tsk, tsk, ol’ boy. Your boy scout club has to honor the code.”
“They’ll never lay down to you,” I growled.
“They will, or they’ll die along with you. But not wifey. No. I’m gonna keep your precious Maisie locked up in a box for the rest of her life for my club to use and abuse whenever they want. And every time they do, she’s gonna know that it’s happening because her husband couldn’t protect her.”
Whatever rage I’d felt for Warlock in the past paled in comparison to how I felt at that moment, however it’s not what fueled me to keep fighting. My love for Maisie was. The love I felt the first time I met her that had only grown stronger every day since. Her love would save me just as it had in the past.
Her love was my road to peace and that same love would now serve as my road to war.
Hatch
WARLOCK TEED UP for another kick to my ribs, but this time I caught his foot as it slammed into me. Fighting through the pain of the blow, I managed to keep a firm grasp on his foot, twisting his ankle in a “gator roll” until he had no choice but to join me down in the mud.
I summoned every ounce of strength I had, lunging at Warlock, fighting for position until I was once again on top.
“I told you not to talk about my wife, but youdidn’t listen.”
“Fuck you and fuck her,” were the last words uttered by Warlock while all his teeth were still in his head. After that, dialogue between us was a little rocky.
I beat Warlock’s face until he was unrecognizable. When I finally stopped, he was barely conscious, but he was still breathing. I slowly made it to my feet and with my last bit of strength, rolled Warlock’s limp body over, face down in the ever, deepening mud. But, before I could continue, the sound of a gunshot stopped me dead in my tracks.
At first, I thought I’d been shot by one of the Spiders, which as it turned out, was the plan. Trunk, Warlock’s asshole VP, pulled a gun and had a bead on me, but was shot dead in the heart before he could get a round off.
Trunk’s lifeless body hit the mud with a heavy thud, and I was shocked to turn around to see a Spider named Hendo holding a smoking .38 revolver.
“He shouldn’t have pulled on you,” Hendo shouted. “The code’s the code. It is what it is,” he said, before laying his gun down in front of me.
I turned my attention to the Spiders.
“I gave Warlock every chance I could to back off, but he came after my wife,” I shouted. “Yourclubcame after my wife. My club. My family.Over and over, the Spiders have tried to take from the Dogs of Fire. Well, that ends tonight.”
I stepped on Warlock’s head, pushing what was left of his face deep into the mud. Causing his body to convulse.
“I tried to show mercy, but Warlock isn’t a man who can be reasoned with. He’s an animal. An animal who needs to be put down.”
I put the heel of my left foot on the base of Warlock’s skull, before I putting my full weight down, breaking his neck as I did.
“I promise this is what will happen to anyone that comes after my family or my club. Mark my words. Before you even think of fucking with the Dogs of Fire, you’d better have dug your own grave first. You hear me?”
Nods and mumbles rippled through the Spiders’ ranks.
I turned to Irish Frank. “Now the fuckin’ fight’s over.”
“You heard the man,” Frank said through his bullhorn. “The fight’s fuckin’ over. You know what that means,” he said, addressing the Spiders.
Mack, Razor, and Booker rushed over to keep me upright, followed by the rest of the Dogs, who were going absolutely apeshit. They formed a circle around me, celebrating and cheering and chanting my name like I’d just caught the Super Bowl winning catch after landing on the moon.
Then, one by one, the once proud Gresham Spiders Motorcycle Club members took off their cuts and placed them in a pile in front of me. Some of them did it with respect, adding a nod or even the occasional slight bow, and some spit or cursed as they did. I took note of each one of them in my mind should we ever cross paths again.
