Page 89 of Ink

Prez’s gaze turns curious. “I think I have a box or two. Why?”

The corner of my mouth tips up in a sly smirk.

Perfect.

“No reason.”

“There a reason we’re back at this shit hole?” Hash asks as soon as we cut our engines in the motel parking lot.

“I just have a little pit stop to make,” I tell him.

“You forget something?” Hash asks, looking back at Cyrus to see if he knows anything.

“Don’t look at me. I’m just along for the ride.” Cyrus shrugs.

“Forgot to do something. You guys can wait here. I’ll only be a minute,” I call over my shoulder as I saunter up to the motel.

As I walk through the front entrance, I reach into my pocket and pull out my knife and flip it open, heading straight for the front desk.

“She ain’t here, man.” The piece of shit who gave Sutton’s room to Zach rushes out, looking at me with wide eyes.

A slow smirk takes over my face as I approach the desk, my boots echoing throughout the lobby with each step. As soon as I’m close enough, my hand with the knife darts out in a flash, stabbing him in the same bandaged hand Adduci did.

Once I feel the tip of the blade hit the wood desk, I rip it back out. His screams sound like music to my ears and he clutches his hand to his chest. Blood is pouring out of his hand, dripping down his arm and onto the desk and floor.

“I know she’s not. She’s in my fuckin’ bed. Look at me,” I demand over his screams, my tone sinister.

He looks up from his hand, meeting my hard gaze. His eyes are bloodshot and frantic, his face getting more pale with each breath he takes.

“That girl is mine. Consider this your warning for fuckin’ with the Dirty Devils. Next time I won’t be so nice.”

Reaching across the desk, I grab him by his shirt, using the fabric to clean his blood off my knife. Once all traces of blood are gone, I flip it closed and saunter back out to Hash and Cyrus without another word.

They both greet me with knowing smiles.

“We could hear him squealing like a pig from here. Is there anything left of him?” Hash laughs.

“‘Course there is.” I smirk as I fire up my bike.

On to the next piece of shit.

“For him being a suit in a small-town law firm, this pad looks pretty cushy,” Hash observes as he walks up to the house.

I was thinking the same thing. This place has to be at least 4,000sqft and there’s a brand new Jaquar sitting in the drive. Suits make decent money, but he seems to be rolling it in for this area.

We found a small secluded pull-off where we hid the bikes. I figured he’d flee as soon as he heard the pipes outside his house. I want him scared, but I’m not chasing him down. That’s more Cyrus’ style.

“Looks like he’s home,” Cyrus says excitedly as we round the front of the house and slide around to the back.

We move along the house, hiding in the shadows to keep from being spotted with light illuminated from the windows.

“Does he need to have every single light on? Jesus fucking Christ,” Hash rumbles, following behind me.

God damn, he’s being a fucking dick tonight.

Cyrus side eyes me, letting me know he’s thinking the same thing.

Hash showed up pissed off with the fucking world and late, which isn’t like him. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming that he had shit to do beforehand, and wouldn’t tell us what it was either, which is weird as fuck in itself.