Trench
“Have you come to play nice, Trench?” Preacher straightened behind his desk and watched me with the beady, yellowed-out eyes of a man with no soul.
“I don’t play and I’ve never been nice, Preacher.” I scoffed, keeping the barrel of my gun trained towards the center of his forehead. My finger itched with the need to pull back on the trigger and end the sorry motherfucker who not only put out the hit on my father, but was the catalyst for Tori’s suffering.
“Too bad,” he said, placing the filtered end of a cigarette between his crusty lips and lighting the tip. He blew out a cloud of smoke and leaned back in his chair, giving little attention to the weapon pointed at him. Even the old seat moaned its protest of Preacher’s existence, straining underneath his portly size. “I have someone you want and if you kill me, you’ll never get her,” his raspy chuckle had my fingers gripping the butt of my gun so hard my knuckles were turning white with the effort.
“You really are a sick bastard.”
Preacher took another long drag from his cigarette and watched me carefully as the smoke drifted out with his laughter.
“We’re not so different, you and I?” He leaned forward in his seat.
I glared back. I might have been the degenerate son of a one percenter and I’d chosen to keep the MC in my family, but I was nothing like the sick piece of shit sitting in front of me. Never would be. I didn’t my rocks off by abusing innocent women, my own flesh and blood. I never sacrificed my brothers to death sentences just to save my own ass, and I was honest even when it wasn’t the favored opinion.
“You and I are about as much alike as shit and sunshine.”
The old bastard laughed again, this time coughing on his own phlegm, probably caused by years of chain-smoking.
“Your daddy was smart like you once. Knew what the hell we were into and owned that shit like nobody else. I envied him. Smoke had a fine piece of ass at home, a son to carry on his legacy, and a club of brothers that were loyal as fuck.” The sound of my father’s road name on his tongue made me rage. “But, the one thing Smoke couldn’t do was corral the big runs. His loyalty to the fucking Russians over the years has cost Pandemonium a lot of stack. He should have branched out, started a few more chapters, but your Pops didn’t have the connections to foster the larger game. I tried to tell him. Tried to get him business.”
“The Cartel?” I asked, a little taken aback by the turn in conversation. I came here expecting Preacher to put up a fight, but instead he wanted to discuss my father and old business propositions with Mexican drug lords.
I eased my grip on the gun and chuckled at Preacher’s ignorance. The asshole was clueless, had been for years apparently. His face remained stoic, but the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly told me I had hit a nerve. Preacher fed off other people’s need for him and then waved that shit around to see who would bite, sate his own appetite for control while putting a new sorry fucker in his back pocket. Accepting help, of any kind, from Preacher was as damning as a blood oath with the Devil himself. You didn’t owe him once. Hell, no. You owed him and the Disciples for life, for as many times as they could rob you of your dignity, your money, or your flesh. In for a penny, in for a fucking pound.
I knew he was cooking with the Cartel for years. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge. It was only fitting that a low-life like Preacher would be tangled in the sheets with a gang of motherfuckers that could care less if you lived or died on their watch. Nothing meant more than money and power to the Cartel, and anyone crazy enough to stand in the way of either of those things already owned a shallow grave in the desert beside the last fuck-up that crossed them.
“You don’t know, do you?” I chuffed and watched as his spine straightened in the old seat. I had his attention.
“I know plenty, boy, like how Smoke helped my old lady escape town, how he was responsible for Tori growing up without a father because he helped that bitch leave. And how you’re basically doing the same thing with my daughter that he did with my wife.”
“Seems to me we only improved their lives. Apparently, your wife had standards even when you never did, and your daughter, well, she’s mine to take care of now. Your loss is my gain so if you’re looking for sympathy, you won’t find any here. Can’t say I’ll feel guilty for ridding the world of their least likely candidate for Father-of-the-Year.”
“She can blame me for her sorry life because she doesn’t know the entire story. Her mother and your father made damn sure of that.” Preach stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on the corner of his desk.
“Is Tori wrong to blame you for her fucked-up life so far? Was she wrong about you murdering her mother? Was she wrong that you let one of your own club members abuse her? Were you ever trying to be her father, Preacher, or did you want her to suffer the way you couldn’t make Carmen suffer?” I asked, listening to the shuffle of feet outside the doorway. Clutch poked his head inside, his brows falling low as he assessed the laid-back standoff between Preacher and myself.
Preacher toyed with the unkempt beard on his chin, rubbing his fingers back and forth through the coarse hair as he contemplated his response. To speed up his answer, I walked to his desk and pressed the muzzle of my gun between his eyes. He sneered up at me and had I not been looking I would have missed as he swallowed hard. The one indication he was human, that he feared for his life.
“Maybe you missed the question. Is. Tori. Wrong?” I ground out the last few syllables.
“I gave Carmen options. How about that? That good enough for you?”
“No. You didn’t give your daughter any options.” I replied as I pistol whipped Preacher with the butt of my gun. He didn’t lose consciousness, but he was knocked from his chair from the force. The loud thud as he hit the hard wood floor garnered attention outside the room.
“You all right, Pres?” Lo asked, slowly moving into the room with Clutch, looking from me to the bleeding Disciple President at my feet.
“I’m good. Just heard enough of the old bastard. Load him up in the truck before I change my mind and finish this myself.”
Lo’s sadistic, satisfied grin reminded me of days gone by when we would take care of business for Pops. It wasn’t always pretty, but at one time or another every member of the club had gotten his hands dirty. It was the reason so many remained loyal. We all had dirt that needed safekeeping. If you sold us down the river, your ass would be sure to drown in the same muck.
***
Preacher moaned from inside the hole in the ground as his consciousness slowly returned. His confusion was short-lived as he stared up at us from his position.
“I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance,” Preacher growled and let loose a string of expletives when he finally realized the seriousness of his situation. He was going to die tonight and no one gave a damn.
“But, you didn’t. Good thing I’m not as careless as you.” I called down to him.
“Fuck you, boy. You think you have the balls to kill me?”
“Says the man standing in his grave.” I grinned looking down at my watch. “I have a date with your daughter and you have a date with destiny.”
“Coward. Why don’t you just pull the trigger and be done with it?”
“Because that pleasure belongs to me,” Alexei stepped forward with a deadly glint in his eyes and Preacher became silent. Clearly, this wasn’t the ending he expected, and it still wouldn’t be the one he deserved. The suffering he would endure at Alexei’s hands would be too short for the years of pain Preacher had caused Tori.
I stepped aside as the truck backed up closer. Reaper and Clutch hauled Aaron’s body over, rolling his dead body into the hole with Preacher. The old man fell to his knees in defeat and I knew I would carry that image with me forever, knowing I’d protected her. The Devil was due to pay his sins and I’d just served the summons. Alexei would collect final payment. Pandemonium’s debt, my father’s promise to Carmen, had been fulfilled.
Flex hadn’t worn out his welcome…yet. Reaper had plans for him and I’d agreed to see them through. Today was about ending Preacher’s rule of terror and making the world safer for Tori again. My future old lady wouldn’t spend another day feeling afraid and alone. She had me and a lifetime of good Pandemonium.