I took a long swig of my beer, rocking back and forth on my front porch with Red next to me. “I figured Abel would have checked in with the address by now.”

Red slapped his bag of Red Man onto his leg and put a huge plug into the back of his jawline. Right then his nickname made way more sense. “We’ll hear from him once everything is squared away. Ain’t no thang, kid.”

Lighting my fifth cigarette, I tried to not show Red how nervous I was about this job that we were about to ride off into the night to complete. I knew it needed to be done. I wholeheartedly understood why Abel had asked me to do it, but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t fucking nervous as shit. 

It wasn't the fact that I was probably going to have to kill someone. It wasn’t the fact that I could get hurt. I wasn't even worried about not coming home, because that wasn't an option. I was scared shitless of letting Abel and the rest of the club down. It was my first and only shot to prove to my brothers that I deserved to wear the cut; failure couldn't be in my vocabulary at that point.

Red’s burner finally started vibrating on the wooden arm of his chair.

“Yeah?” He spit onto the front porch.

“We got it.” He closed the phone and stood up.

Looking down at me, he put his pouch of chew back into his front pocket. “Let’s go make a Sinner wish he had never crawled out of his bitch of a mother’s cunt.”

We threw our Kevlar vests on, secured our guns and extra clips.

Deep. Slow. Breaths.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Here goes nothing.

“Ready?” Red glanced over at me before descending the porch steps.

“Fuck yeah. I’m ready to make this fucker pay.” 

It was going to be a little under an hour’s ride through the back country, almost into Tennessee, and it was just going to be Red and me, which put all of my senses on high alert. The air was crisp and it was a clear, full moon night. We curved and weaved through the mountainsides until we got to the end of a long dirt road. Red signaled and we both pulled off the road.

“We’ll leave the bikes here. Apparently, he should be alone, but if he isn’t, I’ll cover you while you tie him up and we’ll get him out here in no time.”

“When’s the van showing up?” I had just assumed that once we had the scumbag, there would be a getaway vehicle.

Red shook his head. “It’s just us, kid. Just follow my lead, I’ll walk ya through it.”

We hid our bikes in the unruly brush right off the road, then, as quietly as possible, we hoofed through the thicket. The front porch light blared bright, lighting up the front steps to a wraparound porch that graced an older-than-hell farmhouse with weeds and vines growing over most of it.

I tapped Red on the shoulder. “I’m counting at least two mulling around in there.” The shadowed figures were posted up at a table in what looked like the kitchen. They were in a fucking fishbowl; it was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel.

He pulled our target’s picture out of his pocket. “This is your guy. Leave the other one to me.”

In unison, we checked our clips, took our safeties off, and got ready for battle.

Red nodded, motioning me to get a move on. “Around back,” he ordered, and I started to head for what I was hoping was the back door. 

The back step complained under my boots as I tried to be as quiet as possible. Red pointed over to a window next to me that was slightly open. Carefully, I lifted it up enough for us to climb through. All of those nights sneaking into the Hellock house were starting to pay off.

We tiptoed through the hallway to the kitchen. I flicked the light off as I made my way into the small room after picking out which one of the two was my target.

Grey flannel shirt.

I kept repeating that in my head while his buddy in white was invisible to me.

Right as he was starting to jump out of his kitchen table seat, I grabbed a fistful of his flannel, slamming him back into his wood chair, pulling the hammer of my gun and resting it right on his buzz cut temple.

“Easy old boy. There’s a few ways we can handle this,” I whispered in his ear as Red yelled at the other guy, who he had up in the air being choked by a metal wire. Trickles of blood started to stain his white collar.

“Calm the fuck down motherfucker or I will let this wire slice you from ear to ear.”

The guy thrashed and choked until Red yanked harder, slicing the dude’s neck wide open. I kept my eyes and attention locked on my guy while his dude gurgled and squirmed next to my feet. It was the first time I had ever watched someone bleed out like that and it took everything in my power to keep it together. Yanking up the grey sleeves, Red zip tied the guy’s hands while I kept my hand on him and my gun waiting. 

Our target’s raspy voice echoed in the small space, “You fuckers just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

I quietly laughed in his ear. “Funny, you’re the one on the wrong side of this gun.”

“Or is he?” I heard a strong voice behind me and a hammer being pulled back right next to my ear.

Bang!

My ears started ringing instantly as I got sprayed with warm, sticky chunks and the Sinner fell right on top of his buddy, who was finally no longer gasping for air. His gun clinked to the floor as Red shoved his back into his waistline. It was the fastest display of drawing I had ever witnessed and I was thanking my lucky fucking stars that Red was that good with his weapon. Two seconds more and I would have been the one on the the ground with a bullet hole through the side of my skull.

“You no good, fucking bastards!” The target started to trash around in his seat, keeping his eyes trained on his fallen brothers laying at his feet.

“Shut up.” I kicked his shin.

“Fuck.” He spit onto my boot. “I will have you both fucking tortured and strung up by your empty ball sacks for this.”

“You can try.” Red pulled his chew out form his pocket, beefing up his lip. “You good, son?” After tying a bandana as a gag around our hostage’s mouth to finally shut up his yelling, Red patted me on the back while wrestling our target to his feet.

I gave Red the thumbs up then followed him out the front door and down the gravel driveway as we dragged the reluctant Sinner behind him.

Red fumbled through his saddlebag, tossing a long rope to me. “Tie that around this fucker’s ankles and then to your bike.”

I did as I was told. The dude kept thrashing and wailing pleas for help in muffled tones. 

Red tied up his arms all the way to his shoulders, connecting the other end of his rope to the back of his bike. My blood ran cold. I finally figured out what Red and Abel’s plan for this guy was, and it was going to be a gruesome sight. 

Kicking him in the stomach a few times, Red yelled and spit on the Sinner. “We’re going to teach you fuckers once and for all to never mess with the Unacceptables ever again.”

I made sure all my knots were perfectly secured.

“You ready to play a little tug of war in the gravel?”

“Ready when you are.”

The Sinner started screaming even louder. It was ear piercing listening to a gagged person pleading for their life, but there was no turning back. This was happening and I was going to have to suck up how physically ill the thought of literally tearing someone in half was making me.

My gut clenched as I turned the key and felt my Harley rumble between my legs. I gunned it, my bike lurching forward and then spinning the tires trying to fly down the road toward the house we’d just dragged the son of a bitch out of. Gravel peppered the dude and flew out from behind my back tire as his yelling pierced into the calm night air. Then all of a sudden his body gave way and his upper half trailed down the road behind my bike for a few seconds.

I threw out my kickstand, hopping off my bike before I hurled all over it. I yacked in the bushes as Red trotted down the road to me.

“Nice work, kid.”

I coughed a few times before standing upright again. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Most fuckers wouldn't have gone through with it.” 

I wiped off my mouth with my cool leather sleeve. “I ain’t one to back down from anything.”

Red snorted. “Good to know. Now let’s get this SOB back home.”

We put gloves on and used big black trash bags to get what we could of the dead Sinner off the road.

Red pulled out his burner to call Abel. “It’s done” was all he said before tying up his bag and securing it to his bitch seat. He motioned over to me. “Let’s ride out. They’re waiting for us.”

“What about all this shit?” I pointed to the blood and puke that was scattered around this grisly scene.

Red spit onto the gravel road. “That ain’t something to concern you, son. It will be handled. Don’t you fucking worry about minor shit like that.”

* * *

It was nearly three in the morning by the time we pulled up to the shop where Abel and the rest of the guys were waiting.

My dad rolled the garage door behind Red and me as we rode into the darkened shop where I spent most of my days. Abel strode over to me while I killed the rumbling engine, grabbing the trash bag from the back of my bike with gloved hands. “I’m proud of you, son.”

I tried to hide how shaky my knees were. “Thanks.”

Holt walked up to me with a change of clothes and a bar of soap. “Go scrub down in the back. We’re going to clean up your bike. Other than your cut and Kevlar, burn everything you're wearing in the fire Jesse has going out back. I think he’s making s’mores if you’re hungry.”

I grabbed the shit out of my old man’s hands. “I could use a fucking beer.”

Holt opened a Rolling Rock and handed the green bottle over to me. “You earned it for sure tonight.”

“What are you going to do with him?” I looked over at Abel, who was wrapping the trash bags in more plastic and shoveling them into a black chest.

He grinned over at me. “It’s going to be a special delivery for our friends over in the east.”

I went out back and stripped down to my boxers. Walking over to Jesse, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing went he smiled, chocolate smeared all over his face and his eyes bloodshot. 

“Hey, Ryder. Your dad got some killer smoker today. You need to fucking hit this.” He tried to pass me his joint.

“Naw, thanks though, man. I need to get cleaned up. Burn this shit for me?”

He took my jeans, shirt, boots, and leather jacket from me and my heart hurt a little; I was going to miss that jacket.

“Yeah, sure thing.” He tossed everything onto the open flames while gritting the rolling paper in his teeth.

I had never been more relieved to wash a day off of myself in my entire life. Even though I hadn’t gotten any of that dude’s blood on my skin, I felt fucking covered in it. I scrubbed and scrubbed at my skin, rinsing off with the hose only to do it again at least ten times.

After toweling off and putting on fresh clothes, I felt only a touch better. I knew that your first murder stayed with you for life. I had been warned, had heard the stories, but nothing had prepared me for the sound of a man’s last breaths while his blood gurgled from his slit throat or the horrifying screams of a man pleading for his life knowing he was about to be torn limb from limb. That shit was going to fucking haunt me.