Diablo pulled the man’s head back by his hair. “What do you want to come out first, your top or bottom teeth?” The man didn’t answer. “Let’s start with the bottom.”
The man’s screams filled the small room as his bloody tooth clinked against the glass Diablo put it in. “That one’s for Maria, you sonofabitch.”
By the time he’d pulled out four teeth, the man told them everything they already suspected: Satan’s Pistons were behind the hit. The sobbing jerk opened fire in a crowded bar and killed Maria for a new Harley and a thousand bucks. When Diablo pulled the trigger that took the man out of his misery, he didn’t feel any satisfaction. They’d lost one of their club girls. The women wore the “Property of Night Rebels” proudly, and the brothers were supposed to protect them.
By the time all the evidence was destroyed and the bodies scattered, it was three in the morning. He slipped into Fallon’s bed and pulled her close to him.
“Goldie must have a really cool bike,” she teased. He just held her tighter. “Did you have a good time?”
“Nah.” He kissed her head and squeezed her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”I shoulda taken care of the guys when they first came in. My gut fuckin’ told me something was up. Maria would still be here. Fuck.
She grasped his hand and tucked it under her chin, and he smiled. For a long time, he lay looking at the curtain as it billowed in the wind.
Sleep would elude him.
And Maria would haunt him.
