Page 6 of All's Fair in Love & Wrath

“Yeah, you did. That night you and Rogue took care of those few Widowmakers at the drug den.”

Malice scrunches up his face, his eyes looking up and over to the side like he’s trying really hard to think. Then, like a light bulb went off, he sparks to life, holding up his pointer finger. “I remember. And I thought about it, but I’ve neverskinned someone, and I couldn’t do it. Not worth my time. I want to shave his head.”

“You want to shave his head?” I repeat, confused as all hell.

“I. Want. To. Shave. His. Head.” He nods, slowly enunciating each word. I punch him hard in the arm, garnering some looks our way.

“For fuck’s sake. Why?”

“Just a hunch.” He shrugs. I roll my eyes, but concede, morbidly curious what the hell he’s going to do about his “hunch” that involves a goddamn razor. But at least he isn’t planning on torturing anyone here in the common room. Sin and Chaos continue to interrogate the prospect while I head toward the back of the house to the bathroom to find a razor. Coming up short on the razor, which is probably a good thing, I instead find a pair of old clippers under the sink. That’ll work, and it’ll limit the mess he could potentially make. The last thing any of us want to deal with right now is cleaning up our living space from one of Malice’s bloodbaths.

Things are getting heated as I reenter the common room, coming shoulder to shoulder with Malice and handing him the clippers.

“What’d I miss?”

“Sin just knocked his tooth out,” he replies without looking at me. I wince. Sin is a big motherfucker, and I haven’t been unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of one of his haymakers, but I know one punch can rattle a skull. I’ve seen him kill a man with just his fists, and it only took a few hits. Prospect is gonna have one helluva headache after this.

“Damn. That didn’t take long.”

“Nope, but this is already taking too long for me,” Malice says, annoyance dripping into his tone. He cracks his neck side to side, and I brace myself for the whirlwind. Sin’s deep voiceechoes through the room, and I don’t know how this dude isn’t pissing himself yet.

“I got my road name because there is no law, divine or otherwise, that I won’t break to get what I need, to protect what I love. I will do anything, but it’s not me you should be afraid of today.” Sin looks over at Malice and nods. Mal steps forward, a slow grin spreading across his face. He excels here, and while it’s wildly sadistic, he’s like an artist. There’s a whimsy and flourish to his methods that demands attention. Even if it’s gory and brutal, you don’t want to look away.

“Do you know why we call him Malice, Jason? Because hewantsto inflict pain,wantsto induce suffering. He doesn’t just do it because he has to, like me; hecravesit.” Yep. That about covers Mal. Malice bristles and I have to hide my smile behind my hand.

Mal leans in to the guy’s face. “Jason, is it? That’s a stupid fucking name, Jason.” My eyes pinch as I rest my chin in my hand, my other arm crossed at my chest, holding up my elbow. Is it a stupid name? Thought Jason was pretty fuckin’ average if you ask me. Malice turns on the clippers and jerks Jason’s head to the side, shaving him right down to the skin. I step closer as Malice takes a step back to admire his work. Right on the side of his scalp is a coiled snake, poised to strike. I’m still not putting it together, but I wait, knowing Malice will get us there.

He flicks the tattoo at the side of his head hard. “What’s the snake tat, Jason?”

“It’s a random tattoo, man. What’s the big deal?”Idiot. Wrong answer. That’s when it hits me. Fuck, it’s a club emblem. We have another mole. I look around the room, looking for Chaos and Sin, to make sure they put it together too. This is about as bad as it gets.

Malice jerks his head to the other guy, and I quickly grabhis arms before he can try to make a run for it. Not that he’d get far, but I’d like to make shit as easy as possible. He throws his head back toward my face to headbutt me, and I barely dodge it, kicking the back of his knees to force him down next to Jason. He fights us the entire way as Sin and I hold him while Malice shaves his head down to the skin. And sure as shit, there’s another fucking tattoo, same thing. Coiled snake in a striking position. Fucking shit. This isn’t just a one-off rogue rat who shot Rolo, we’ve been fucking embedded withsnakes.

Malice returns to Jason in the chair, gripping his cheeks and forcing his mouth to hollow out as he squeezes them together. “What’s the big deal? The big fucking deal, Jason, is that you two assholes wear the same tattoo I saw on Garrett. I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s a big fucking deal. Pretty sure the men standing behind me think it’s a big fucking deal, too.” Malice shoves his head backward with force before standing up taller. Sin, Chaos, and I flank his sides. “What’s the tattoo mean, boys?”

The two men in front of us look at each other, Jason subtly shaking his head. These motherfuckers. Do they think we’re playing? That the Hell’s Heathens will just let this slide?

“Well, if it doesn’t mean anything to you lads, then I’ll just remove it, yeah?” Malice laughs maniacally at their reactions. Not so tough for infiltrating our clubhouse as prospects. “Does that scare you? This will be nothing compared to what I’ll do if you don’t start talking.”

Malice pulls out his knife, flicking it out. There goes the clean common room. Jason actually surprises me by standing up and throwing a punch toward Malice. I know he’s got it, especially with a clubhouse full of members here. But my eyes are on the other asshole who takes that as his cue to run. Chaos and I are on him before he can go too far. I drop my elbow intohis nose, a loud crunch of shattering bone and cartilage piercing my ears. Blood pours from his nose and mouth as Chaos and I drag him back into the center of the room. We zip-tie both of them to chairs this time, and then step back, letting Malice get to work. He slices a clean cut into Jason’s head over the tattoo, removing it quickly. Blood gushes instantly, and Malice jumps back in surprise, tossing the piece of flesh at my boots with a wet slap against the floor, blood splattering against the leather. Because of course. Like I said, he tortures with flourish.

“Damn!” Malice yells, looking back at Saige with excitement dancing in his eyes. “Did you know head wounds bleed that much? Like a river!” For fuck’s sake, he’s unhinged. Chaos doesn’t look impressed, his arms crossed over his chest, a subtle shake to his head. I’m sure he’s processing how the fuck this happened, just like I am. We do a deep dive on every man who wants in, but there’s not always a line to chase, like in Malice’s case.

The screams are loud enough to shake the windows. It looks like it hurts like a bitch. Malice moves to the other traitor, and instead of slicing it right off like he did with Jason, he takes his time, clearly trying out a new technique. While he saws at the guy’s scalp, I watch every single one of the other prospects’ reactions. Some look squeamish, others look scared shitless, but most of them look comfortable, just like the patched men behind me.

A second wet slap of bloody scalp meeting the hard floor is my only sign that he’s finished. Malice’s hand and arm are dripping with blood, and I take a large step away from him as he retreats back next to me.

Chaos steps forward, ready to interrogate some more. Maybe now they’ll talk. It always takes some—sometimes messy—persuasion.

“You ready to tell us what the fuck those tats mean and who the fuck you all are?”

“Kingsnakes MC,” the second ugly fucker mutters as blood trickles down his face and into his eyes.

“And what the fuck are you doing in my club?”

“Orders.”

“To infiltrate the Hell’s Heathens? Why was one of our men targeted?”