Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  “That’s the past, Evie. I’ve changed and realised I want you in my life. Give me a chance, baby.”

  Everything in me screamed to say yes, but my head knew better. “No.”

  I didn’t wait for him to say anything further before getting in the car and shutting the door. I turned the key in the ignition and attempted to ignore him, but he tapped on the window until I finally put it down.

  He leant his head in the car and said, “I was wrong, Evie.”

  “When?”

  “Three years ago when I told you I didn’t want you in my world.” His eyes held the truth in his statement; I saw regret, but I couldn’t let that sway me. Just because he regretted his choice didn’t mean he’d end up making a different one this time if I let him back in.

  “Well, it’s too late now,” I dismissed him.

  He shook his head. “Life’s too short to say shit like that. And it’s too fuckin’ short not to go after what you want. And I’m telling you now, baby, I want you, and I’m gonna get what I want.” And there was Kick’s trademark stubbornness. I could tell from the way his eyes bore into mine that he was trying to force me to go along with what he wanted.

  I stared at him, unsure of what to say to that. And when he moved his hand to cradle my face and rub my lips with his thumb, I sat there and let him do it. He’d taken me completely by surprise.

  He let me go and straightened. Tapping the top of my car, he said, “I’ll see you soon.” And then I watched him walk back into my mother’s house, my eyes hardly able to shift from his ass.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Four

  Kick

  I sat at the bar of the clubhouse and stared at Nitro as he told me about the bike engine he was rebuilding. His words drifted in and out as my concentration bounced between him and thoughts of Evie. It had been a week since I’d seen her at her Mum’s. I’d purposely left her alone, because if there was one thing I knew about her, it was how much she hated being pushed into doing something. After all these years, I knew when to push and when to back off.

  “Kick, are you fucking listening to me?” Nitro broke through my thoughts.

  I took a swig of my beer before answering him. “Sorry, brother.”

  He finished his beer and motioned to Brittany to bring him another. “All good, man, I know you’ve been through some shit the last week. But you should drop by my house one day and take a look at the engine. Could do with some help, ‘cause I’ve heard you know your shit around engines.”

  Nitro and I weren’t close but I’d recently realised how much we had in common and maybe helping him with his engine would stop me fucking thinking about Jeremy and Evie so much. “Yeah, I will.”

  Brittany brought Nitro his drink and leant across the bar, flashing her huge tits at him. I didn’t have much respect for her but she was the best bar bitch we had. “You think you could convince King to let me redecorate the bar?” she asked us, eager eyes flicking between the two of us.

  Nitro grinned at her. He often used her when he wanted a quick lay and I knew they had an easy friendship. “Darlin’, I could try and convince King of anything if you let me fuck you the way I want,” he said with a wink. He reached across the bar and traced her cleavage with his finger, which caused her to close her eyes and moan.

  “Fuck, you two, get a fuckin’ room,” I snapped, and gulped the rest of my beer down.

  Nitro slipped his hand into her top. Eyeing me he said, “I would if she’d play the way I want to, but she never does.”

  She slapped his hand away. “I told you I’m not interested in that, Nitro. You’ll have to find some other slut to let you do that.”

  He shrugged. “You’ll have to find someone else to convince King then, babe, ‘cause no play means no help from me. Besides, I don’t think any of us could give a fuck about paint and furniture and shit like that.”

  Brittany cast an unconvinced gaze around the room. “So you don’t care about the ugly cream paint that is peeling in some parts, or the out-dated wood tables and chairs, or the fact the couches in here obviously have seen better days and too much cum? I hate sitting on those couches because I know that nearly all of you boys have each fucked more than a handful of bitches on them and spread your germs everywhere. And what about the plants that are dying in here because whoever picked them chose the wrong plants for inside and no one ever waters them besides me? Oh, and your Storm logo on the wall behind the bar needs to be redone because it’s all worn and shit.”

  I raised my brows at her. “I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this, but, personally, I couldn’t give a shit and I doubt King does, either.”

  “Give a shit about what?” King’s voice sounded behind me.

  I jerked my chin at Brittany. “She wants to redecorate. Says it’s old and ugly in here. And she hates the cum on the couches.”

  King laughed. “You want new couches, sweetheart? You and I could christen them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get it. You don’t care what your clubhouse looks like.”

  King stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes on her. “Tell you what. You figure out a cost for me and I’ll think about it, but I want something from you in return.”

  Fear flickered in her eyes, and she didn’t respond. No one ever wanted to owe King anything, especially not a female. I’d heard the stories about what he demanded from women and I didn’t blame her for her hesitation.

  “Well?” he barked, waiting for her answer.

  “I think it’ll cost too much,” she said, her voice holding no trace of her previous confidence.

  He gave her a long, hard look before finally nodding. “Yeah, I thought it might,” he said darkly.

  I watched her walk away from us and head towards the other end of the bar. It was fairly clear she couldn’t get there fast enough.

  Nitro stood. “Gotta hit the head. I’ll catch you later.”

  After he’d left, King asked, “You heard anything around the traps about Silver Hell?”

  Had I heard whether they knew it was Storm who’d killed two of their guys?

  “Haven’t heard a thing.”

  “Yeah, me either. We need to try and find out more. You able to do that?”

  I nodded. “I’ve got some contacts. I’ll follow it up for you.”

  He slapped me on the back. “Good.” His gaze shifted from me to track Brittany’s moves and he leant on the bar in what seemed like an effort to get a better view. Once he’d had his fill, he looked back at me. “I’ve got a job for you today. Need you to collect some of our hard-earned cash.”

  “Who from?”

  His gaze had shifted back to Brittany for a moment, but his eyes came straight back to me. “Our coke-loving friend who never fucking wants to pay up. Sort him the fuck out, Kick, ‘cause I’m sick of his fucking shit. In fact, if I never have to deal with him again, I would be a very happy man.”

  King speak –Take him out or ensure he never comes knocking on our door again.

  I stood and watched as he continued to track Brittany’s moves. That bitch had zero chance of avoiding him now. She’d well and truly caught his attention today. “Consider it done,” I said.

  He glanced at me. “Good.” That was King’s signature word to convey his pleasure at his directions being carried out. You never got much more than that from him.

  I left him to it, figuring Brittany now had less than fifteen minutes before her shift at the bar ended.

  I also figured we’d be getting new paint in here soon.

  *****

  I cut the engine of my bike and assessed the street. I’d never come to Bruno’s house to collect before. Usually, I visited the bar he frequented, but I’d gone there earlier and hadn’t found him so figured I’d give his home a shot. Bruno lived on a quiet street which was a good thing for me, and even more so today because there was no one around. Not that I really gave a fuck but it did make things easier when there were less witnesses to take care of.

&nb
sp; I left my bike and headed to the back door. I’d almost expected him to have a dog to harass me but he didn’t. His yard was a fucking mess of overgrown grass and rubbish that had just been dumped out the back. Filthy, junkie pig.

  The back door was unlocked which I’d been counting on. The number of idiots who left their back doors unlocked never failed to amaze me. I entered and the smell of pot hit me instantly. I fucking hoped he wasn’t entertaining; I really didn’t want to have to deal with more than him today.

  I’d entered through the laundry room, which then took me to a hallway and I followed that along until I came to the living room. Bruno sat on the couch staring at the television, sucking hard on his joint like he couldn’t get what he needed from it. He was so engrossed in the joint and the television he didn’t hear me approach.

  I walked behind the couch and smacked him on the back of his head. He jumped a fucking mile and almost propelled himself into the television before turning around to glare at me.

  “What the fuck, Kick?” he demanded, still clinging to that fucking joint as if it were worth a lot to him. I guessed it probably was. This dickhead had nothing in his life but drugs, debt and a whole lot of regret.

  I advanced on him and he must have read the look on my face clearly because worry crossed his and he began backing up to get away from me. “You think you can escape this?” I asked as I kept walking towards him.

  “Escape what?” he said on a beg. If there was one thing Bruno was good at, it was convincing himself his problems weren’t as bad as they were.

  I moved into his personal space, glaring down at him. “Escape the world of hurt you’re about to be in.”

  Terror filled his eyes. “No! I’ve got the money!”

  “Really? You expect me to believe that, Bruno? You never have the fuckin’ money.”

  His head bobbed up and down rapidly as he nodded at me. “I have it! It’s in my house…I’ll go and get it for you.”

  He attempted to move, and I raised my hand to grip his shoulder and halt him. “Not so fast, motherfucker. You don’t move unless I say you can move. We got that?”

  He gulped and sweat beaded on his forehead. As he moved his arm to wipe the sweat away, he agreed, “Yes.”

  I let go of his shoulder and asked, “Where is this money? What room?”

  “My bedroom.”

  I pulled my gun out and aimed it at his forehead. His eyes widened and I took in the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. “You lead the way, but the minute you don’t do as I say, I’ll shoot. And it won’t be to kill to start with. We clear?”

  He tripped over his words to get them out fast. “Yes, I get it, Kick, but there’s no need to - ”

  I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “There’s always a need, Bruno. With dickheads like you, anyway. Now shut the fuck up and start fuckin’ walking.”

  He did as I said, and I followed closely behind as he led me to his bedroom. The house was a fucking mess with crap strewn all over the floors. His bedroom was no different. As he began rummaging through his drawers, the only sounds that could be heard in the house were the ticking of his bedside clock and his breaths that were coming hard and fast now.

  I moved to stand behind him and pressed the gun into his back. “I hope to fuck you’re not looking for a gun,” I said, not really expecting him to be that smart, but you just never fucking knew.

  He shook his head. “No, the money is in here somewhere. I’ve just got to find which socks I hid it in.”

  “You hid your money in your fuckin’ socks?”

  He turned his head to glare at me. “Well, where the hell else would I hide it, smartass?”

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” I bellowed. Assholes like him annoyed the absolute fuck out of me. First, he was too stupid to keep his shit straight, then he had the balls to think he could get out of dealing with the consequences, and to top it off, he wanted to call me fucking names? Fuck that shit.

  The look of recognition that crossed his face was priceless. That moment when your target realises just how much shit they’re actually in never failed to pump excitement through my veins. “Shit, sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it.”

  I raised my gun and shot at the roof. What I really wanted to do was shoot him, but I needed to get that money first so the roof was the next best thing to hurry him along. Pointing the gun back at him, I roared, “Hurry the fuck up. I don’t have all day.”

  Sweat had started to take over his face and his shirt stuck to the sweat on his body. He began rummaging faster until, eventually, he located the cash. Dragging it out of his sock faster than a virgin ejaculated, he shoved it at me. “Take it!”

  “Calm the fuck down,” I suggested as I took the wads of twenties and tens from him. “And let’s move this to your kitchen table so I can count it.” He owed us six grand and I wanted to make sure it was all here before I took care of him.

  Once he’d given it all to me, he began walking to the kitchen. I indicated for him to sit at the table and then I sat opposite him and started counting. He surprised the hell out of me by managing to keep his mouth shut while I did this. Bruno usually babbled shit the whole time when I came to collect cash.

  I counted slowly. The bastard had come out in me today and I enjoyed feeling his fear while he waited for me to finish.

  He was fifty bucks short.

  I glared at him before pointing my gun at his foot and shooting.

  He screamed out in pain as blood started going everywhere. Wild eyes landed on mine and he yelled out, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

  “You’re short,” I said calmly, leaning back into my chair and extending my leg out to stretch it.

  “Well, you should have just said so. I’ve got more!” His face had contorted in pain and he gripped his leg tightly. Sweat now poured down his face and his clothes were a wet, sweaty mess.

  “I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ say so, Bruno. You should know by now that when I come to collect my money I want all of it. What I don’t want is to be fucked around.”

  “It’s hardly fucking you around, asshole,” he muttered. “How was I to know that sock was fifty bucks short?”

  I shot his other foot and watched him writhe in pain. “Where the fuck is the rest of your money stashed? And don’t screw me around anymore,” I demanded.

  He struggled to get the words out. Jerking his chin at the kitchen pantry, he stuttered, “In there, top shelf in the brown container at the back.”

  Pushing my chair back, I raised my brows and said, “Funny how bullets encourage honesty, isn’t it?”

  “Fuck you,” he spat out, clearly not giving a shit if he pissed me off anymore.

  I ignored him and reached up into the cupboard in search of the brown container. My eyes widened in surprise when I opened it. I whistled and murmured, “Fuck me, Bruno. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  There had to be twenty grand in here.

  “Just take fifty and leave me the fuck alone.”

  My gaze flicked to him. Was he deluded? “You really think I’m gonna walk out of here today without this cash?”

  His fight wasn’t gone. “I swear to fucking God, Kick, if you take my money I will hunt you down for it.”

  I chuckled and cocked my head to the side, giving him a questioning look. “You really think you’ll be alive to hunt me down?”

  Finally, he realised the depth of shit he was in today. He pushed his chair back and attempted to stand. I watched as he collapsed onto the floor, his body twisting in pain as he did so.

  I walked to him and looked down over him. “You’ve been screwing our club around for years now, motherfucker, and my president is finally done with you. And besides, you’re a junkie criminal who preys on the fuckin’ elderly and disabled so I’d be ridding the world of a scumbag we can do without.”

  Hi voice pleaded with me. “Take the money, Kick. You’ll never hear from me again. And I promise not to rob or hurt those people anymore.” Hi
s meaningless words fell out of his mouth. I knew they meant nothing, because Bruno was a creature of habit and he’d never made good on any of his promises before.

  “It’s too late for more shitty promises.” I looked around his kitchen. “I won’t miss chasing you for cash. Between the dive of a bar you drink your life away in and this dump, you’ve really outdone yourself in life.”

  He spat at my feet before giving me a filthy look. “Fuck you!”

  I pointed my gun at his forehead and pulled the trigger.

  He fell backwards as blood went everywhere.

  I pointed the gun at his chest and fired three more bullets into him. Just to be certain King got his wish to never have to deal with him again.

  Then I grabbed the money from the brown container, and the money off the table, stashed it in my jacket and left the way I’d come in.

  Bruno’s body may not be discovered for days, weeks even, depending on the stench it caused. He had no family or real friends I was aware of, and in the world we lived in, no one gave much of a shit about anyone unless you were part of a club or gang. Bruno belonged to no one and so no one would care.

  That was the cold hard truth of our world.

  *****

  Two hours later, after I’d been home and sorted Bruno’s cash out and then delivered King’s amount to him, I pulled up at the cemetery. I had no idea why, but I’d felt the pull there. It wasn’t where Jeremy was, his family had organised for him to be cremated. As I left my bike and began walking across the grass, it hit me.

  Shelly’s here.

  I’d almost made it to her grave when a little old lady stumbled and fell on the path in front of me. She landed on her knees and struggled to get back up again. I quickly walked to her so I could kneel down and help her up.