a MC, right? As I get older though I find myself wanting to have kids and hopefully a family. Someone to take on my legacy when I’m gone. The more I dream of it the more I realize that isn’t going to happen for me. I could lie and say this lifestyle doesn’t allow it, but like I said that would be a lie. Family is the most important thing to us. We are family. Growing that family would be ideal, but at the same time very dangerous. I look at my brothers on a daily basis. Some with kids and a wife, and some without. Who’s to say which is happier?
I pull up to the docks and take a deep breath. This is something I live to do. What kind person are you to bring children into this world and then turn them into killers? At the end of each day when I lay my head down I like to think that if I had kids they wouldn’t end up just like me, but reality seems to have a way of fucking you. Any kids I would have had would have ended up just like me. I know that. I can’t raise something to be any better than what I am.
“You ready?” Grindle asks.
He’s one of our newest patched members. He’s hell bent on getting blood. I grin over at him and nod. I like this sick son of a bitch. Grindle jogs ahead of us and holds the door to the small building open. We all file in and that’s when I see the fucks tied up to the chairs in front of us. It’s a sight to behold for sure. I like it when I don’t have to work for the kill; the kill just comes to you. I look up at Fin and see a grin on his face.
“Damn proud of yourself, yeah?” I ask him in a playful tone.
“Hell yeah. Look at these fucks. They could have been shot and dumped in the ocean, but here they are free for you to play with. You can’t turn down a free plaything Viking.”
The lightness in his voice makes me chuckle. Fin is one hell of a soldier.
“Suppose not. Untie that one,” I say pointing to the biggest of the three.
Fin stalks toward him, cuts the rope from his arms, and frees him. The man stands. He’s about as tall as I am. If he wins, I leave here in a body bag. If I win, he’s shark food. Easy enough. “What the fuck Viking?” Mason snaps behind me.
I turn to look at him over my shoulder, but all I can do is shrug. If it’s my time, it’s my time. Hell, there is nothing I can do to stop that. I turn toward the fucker and I can see it in his eyes. He’s ready for this. Well, bring it on fucker. Carnie has me so fucking wound up in knots that I can almost taste his blood on the tip of my tongue.
“Bring it motherfucker,” I tell the prick.
His hands ball into fists as he comes at me. I dodge the first strike, but the second one lands. The fucker is faster than I thought he would be. I stumble back and ready myself. When I look at the bastard all I can see is rage. I like it. I get pissed and throw something better than the asshole just did. He comes at me again. This time I dodge him and slam my fist into his ribs. The air hisses from his lungs, but he recovers quickly. He rolls his shoulders and readies to strike again. This time I’m way ahead of him. My fist collides with his nose and blood splatters over my hand. I chuckle as he reaches up to wipe the blood away. The other guys are still sitting tied to their chairs watching with wide eyes. They think they’re going to be next.
Mason and Ink roar behind me as the others stand by watching with amused looks on their faces. The fight goes on for a little bit longer. We both take hits that stun us, but in the end I knock him flat on his ass. If those images of Carnie hadn’t floated through my mind I would have crushed this guy, but all I could see was her with that asshole Eric. It was more than enough to piss me off. I destroyed that asshole on the ground.