I’m in the middle of the fucking woods, and I don’t want to be here. All I want to do is kill the piece of shit I came out here to kill and fucking leave. I’m tired. More tired than I’ve ever been, and I feel it weaving its way through my muscle and bones.

I’m standing across from Mugs, a member of the Beach Bastards MC, and I wish to fuck I wasn’t. I work alone. Always have. But there’s a reason why Mugs is there, and I aim to get the fucking job done and get the fuck out of there.

Mugs is a fucking mess. Greasy blond hair flat on his head and a crooked smile on his face as he chews on yet another fucking toothpick, which is about as thick as his twig legs. He’s holding a shovel casually across his shoulders, having just finished digging the hole I ordered him to dig.

One of the reasons why we are even in the woods to begin with is because of the other man in front of me. Jerry. The one with his mouth duct taped shut and his wrists tied behind his back. He pissed himself. I smell the urine before I see it. The motherfucker lived like a coward, and now he’s gonna die like one.

I aim my gun at his head. “You thought you could fuck with us and get away with it, Jerry?” Jerry can’t answer, but I don’t fucking care. I cock the gun. Jerry was a job assigned to me by Bear, the VP of the Beach Bastards MC, after Jerry raped and practically disfigured the daughter of one of his brothers.

“No…no, Smoke. Don’t do this. I promise, I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Jerry whines. There’s nothin’ I hate more than a fucking whiner. Especially someone who whines while begging for his life.

I chuckle. “You didn’t mean to hurt her? She was a kid, motherfucker. You raped her, sliced up her virgin cunt, and gave her a fucking concussion. So, don’t fucking tell me you didn’t mean to fucking hurt her just so you can spare your own life, you weak piece of shit! It’s too late for that now.”

Tired of Jerry’s bullshit, I raise my gun and bring it down against the side of his head. He falls sideways into the dirt. “Mugs, pick this shit-bag off the fucking floor. I want him upright when I blow his fucking brains out,” I order.

Together, we drag Jerry over to the fresh hole and kick him inside.

Jerry’s eyes are on something over my head. Mugs and I turn at the same time. Mugs drops his shovel, grabbing his gun instead. I raise mine, too, but only because I’m in shock at what’s in front of me.

A girl. And a young one at that. My guess is barely a teenager.

Blonde hair pulled in a tight ponytail. A curious look on her eyes as she looks past me and the guns being aimed at her to the hole where Jerry is about to be reunited with the dirt.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demand, closing the gap between us in two strides. She’s got big blue eyes and she’s wearing cut off shorts and a tight pink t-shirt with the words Princesses Suck scrolled across her chest. Most girls would take a step back. Most girls would shake with fear. Most grown men too.

Not this girl. Not a tremor or quivering lip to be seen. Just pupils the size of Frisbees and a look of vacant wonderment in her eyes.

Her gaze flits quickly from Jerry, to Mugs, then to the gun in my hand…which I redirect to her head in warning.

Then, she does something I can’t wrap my fucking brain around. The bitch SMILES. Not only does she smile, but she points to my gun and claps her hands together like a little kid asking to play with her parent’s keys.

She clears her throat and asks in a whisper, “Can I? Please?”

“Can you what?” I bark, still not believing what I’m seeing. “What exactly are you asking, girl?”

And that’s when I see it. The pain in her eyes. The need. I recognize it because I see it in myself, but this girl, this girl is just so much MORE of all of that than I’ve ever been. She’s a monster. A killer. I know it as well as I know the sky’s blue and the dirt’s brown.

“Why the fuck are you smiling, girl?” Mugs asks. The fucker doesn’t see what I see. He wouldn’t.

If stupidity is a terminal disease, Mugs is stage four.

She turns to me, ignoring Mugs, like she’s asking me for help. She points to Jerry and bites her bottom lip.

I look at her again and something between us just makes sense. It’s a connection. Something strong working its way between us like a maze of invisible vines tethering us together in some out of this world way.

I scratch my head with the barrel of my gun. “How old are you, girl?”

“Fifteen,” she answers eagerly. She corrects herself. “No, sixteen. Today’s my birthday.” I stare at her without speaking as the understanding continues to pass between us.

“Well happy fucking birthday, girl. Smoke, what the fuck are you doing?” Mugs whines, grating on my last fucking nerve. “Let’s take this fucker out and then take her out. She’s a witness now. We can’t let her just walk.” He walks toward us, but I hold up a hand to stop him, waving him back before he can take another step.

“Hurry the fuck up, man. And just know that you’re not getting out of helping me dig another fucking hole.”

The girl looks past me. “I won’t be a witness if…I’m the one who does it,” she offers, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“You’re not afraid are you?” I ask, just verifying that what I see in her is really there because I still can’t really believe it.

She’s little and cute and a kid, but she’s the fucking devil himself, and if I were Mugs, I’d shut the fuck up before the ground opened up and swallows him whole. I wait for hesitation on her part. Any sign that this really isn’t what she wants but I get nothing

She bites her lips again and rocks on her feet.

“You high or something?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow and ignoring another call from Mugs to hurry up and kill her. One last attempt to make sure what I’m seeing is real.

“No,” she whispers, and for some reason I believe her.

I raise my gun, again aiming it at her head. I take another step toward her, closing the gap between us and roughly pressing the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

She doesn’t move. She also doesn’t stop smiling.

I holster my gun and begin to laugh. I look her in the eyes. “I recognize that look,” I say, scratching at my forearm. “Never seen it in a chick before, though. Especially not one so fucking young. Only ever seen it in guys. Guys like me.”

“Guys like you?” she asks, scrunching her forehead.

“Yeah, guys like me. The bad guys.” I crack my knuckles.

“Please,” she begs, “Bad, good…” She shakes her head. “I just have to.”

I keep my eyes on her and call back to Mugs, “The girl’s right. She ain’t a witness if she does it herself.” I say, moving around to her side.

We both look to Mugs who rolls his eyes and lights a smoke.

“Wow, I knew you liked some fucked up shit, Smoke, but a sixteen-year-old who begs strangers to let her kill motherfuckers?” He scoffs. “I hope you two deviants will be really fucking happy together.”

“No, that’s not what…” the girl starts to argue.

“You don’t gotta explain shit to him,” I tell her. I lower my voice to a whisper and my head to her ear. “Mugs is a fucking moron. He doesn’t get it.”

He doesn’t see what I see.

“I heard that,” Mugs says. “And what I get is that the longer we’re out here, the higher the chances are of getting caught. I mean, I hate to kill and run, but we gotta fucking go.” Mugs turns his gun on Jerry. Without warning he pulls the trigger, sending a spray of dirt raining down into the hole.

“What the fuck?” I roar.

The girl falls to the ground and wraps her arms around her knees, not out of fear, but disappointment, as if she’s devastated and can’t even stay upright.

I kneel beside her. “You okay, kid?” I tip her chin up to meet mine. She gazes up at me with a wild look before the tears began to spill.

I pull her against my chest. “I’ll take care of you,” I whisper into her hair. I feel possessive over her. Like she was always meant to find me. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes her feel like instant family. She’s blood to me, now. There’s no turning back.

I want to show her that she isn’t alone. That she isn’t the only one who feels or doesn’t feel the way others do. There wasn’t anyone like that around for me growing up and I’m determined to be that person for her.

“I’ll help you. Would you like that?” I ask.

Through her tears she nods, accepting my offer although not completely understanding what it was she was agreeing to.

“Just kidding,” Mugs says suddenly. He stabs his shovel down. He walks over to where we’re crouched on the ground. “Look for yourself. He’s still alive. Just had to know you were serious.”

“You’re a fucking prick, Mugs,” I spit.

“Yeah, I know. Now let’s hurry the fuck up and get out of here. I got shit to do.”

“What’s your name, kid?” I ask, keeping her against me.

She doesn’t answer right away. “Rage.” She finally says with an audible swallow. “My name is Rage.”

“Rage. I like it.” I say, offering her my gun. “Ever shoot one of these before?” I pull her off the ground.

“No,” she admits.

“Stand here,” I direct her in front of me. I place the gun in her hand. “Take this, hold it just how I’m holding it now.”

She does what I say and her hand drops like the gun is a lot heavier than she expected it to be.

I push her forward, walking her toward where Jerry’s crouched figure is huddled in the hole. “Aim like this, and then squeeze the trigger,” I say softly. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” she answers. No hesitation.

I have no doubt she’s telling the truth, but I feel like I gotta warn her once last time. “’Cause this is life-changing shit right here. You do this and things won’t be the same ever again. This is the kind of shit that haunts grown men at night.” I pause. “The kind of shit that has them begging Jesus for forgiveness.”

“I don’t need forgiveness,” she whispers, squeezing the trigger.

Jerry’s one eye stays open. The life that had been there seconds before, now gone. His stare completely blank. The dirt underneath him darkens as his blood seeps out from the fresh wound on the side of his head.

She stays stone still, breathing hard, staring at what’s left of Jerry’s head with wild excitement.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Everyone seeks forgiveness sooner or later, Princess. Why not you?” I hold out my hand for my gun, she hands it over. It’s still warm.

She turns to face me and shrugs. “Because, I’m not sorry.”

“Good, that’s the first lesson,” I say, suddenly turning my gun on Mugs and pulling the trigger in quick succession. Three bullets explode into his chest, sending him teetering back over the hole’s edge until he falls backward into it, his body joining Jerry’s.

What I forgot to tell the now very dead Mugs was that Bear knew he’d raped the girl first before Jerry had taken his turn. My job wasn’t to return one body to the dirt tonight, but two.

“What’s the second lesson?” Rage asks, staring at the gun as I change the clip.

“The second lesson, is that in order to survive you are loyal to no one. You are on nobody’s side except your own.” I holster the gun and look her in the eye to make sure she understands exactly what I’m getting at. “You got that?”

Rage nods. “Yes, loyal to no one,” she says, adding, “What about you?”

I laugh. This fucking kid.

“No one, kid." I look over to the bodies in the dirt then back to her. "Especially not me.”