KICK

It’s 10:00am when I hear the van, and the roar of bikes as Prez, and the rest of the boys pull in the drive. Indie’s sleeping soundly so I slip my arm out from beneath hers and ease off the bed, shoving my legs into my jeans and throwing on a fresh shirt. I snag yesterday’s clothes from the pile on the floor, along with Indie’s. They’ll all have to be burned. She was covered in blood and brain matter when I threw her in the shower last night. I shake my head. I really need to stop shooting fuckers at close range in front of her.

I head downstairs and meet Prez as he’s entering the kitchen. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. Indie was a little shaken up, and the old coot wouldn’t take any of the morphine last night. I haven’t seen him this morning, so he’s probably dead by now.”

“Speak for your fuckin’ self, you little fuck,” Country shouts from the hall. I turn to see him exiting the gym, arms full of loot: wallets, police baton, and One Eye’s cut.

I turn to Prez. “Jesus, the fucker doesn’t die, and he has supersonic hearing?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ Batman, kid. I’ve already been for a run, taken out a couple bad guys, and made Gotham City safe again this morning while you lazy bastards slept the day away. Though by the way you two was screaming last night, can’t say I blame ya.”

I roll my eyes. Country sets his loot down on the kitchen bench and begins emptying out the wallets. “You mind if I keep this shit, Prez?”

“Baton and gun gotta stay with the body, Country. They’re police issue; we don’t want no one asking questions about where they came from. Burn the cards, but you can have anything else.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” I ask.

“I got a chainsaw out back. We’ll chop ’em up, weight ’em, and dump them in the dam. It’s far enough away for no one to go lookin’.”

“Even One Eye?

“He’s a traitor, ain’t he?”

“And Squeals?”

“I gotta go tell the kid’s poor girl that he died protecting an innocent woman. He wasn’t patched, but he’ll have a club funeral. I’ll see to that. I already called Shady. He’ll be here later to pick up Squeals’ body.” Shady was another freelance healthcare practitioner that the club had on speed dial—if by health care you meant freak of nature who liked to play with dead things. He worked the crematory near the clubhouse, and for the right amount of money he’d happily fire up the machine after hours. We call him Shady, ’cause he’s shady as fuck. What other man do you know that sits alone in a crematorium jacking off to the scent of burning bodies?

Come to think of it, Crazy would probably go in for that shit.

As though he’s reading my mind Prez says, “I got Crazy out in the paddock setting the cop car alight. Fucker’s like a kid on Christmas morning.”

I hadn’t seen the cop car last night, which means he must have parked it at the back of the house while I was out.

“Listen, kid. We searched the Cop’s house this morning. Found a secret room hidden beneath the garage. He had a fuckin’ shrine dedicated to your old lady. Pictures, hair, teeth, video tapes stacked all neatly in a fuckin’ row. I haven’t seen anything’ like it before. And she wasn’t the only one. There’s a fuckin’ slew of bitches they been doing this stuff to. Sickest fuckin’ shit I ever saw. I removed any trace of her, got our fuckin’ tape back too.” He takes a deep breath and then says, “I found your priest. He’s yours if you want it. Otherwise, I’ll pull Tank from junkie duty and send him—”

“I want him,” I say, resolutely. The need to destroy this fucker burns through my veins like acid. I want so badly to meet him face to face and put him to ground knowing he hurt what was mine.

“You have to take me with you,” Indie says from the lounge room. I didn’t even see her come down the stairs. “You promised me, Daniel.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, shaking my head as she comes into the room wearing another of Mia’s expensive outfits, this one a silk sundress. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in a dress, and I immediately wanna take her back upstairs and remove it.

“You sure you’re ready for that, darlin’?” Prez asks.

Indie glares at him, her eyes glinting with bloodlust. It’s a good look on her, but I know better than any that that kind of hunger comes at a cost. “I’m sure.”

“Babe, you don’t need to go. I can put that fucker to ground and you never have to see him again.”

Turning to me, she frowns. “I have to do this. I thought you understood that?”

“I do,” I say, avoiding her angry gaze. “Doesn’t mean I have to fuckin’ like it.”

“I need to do this, Daniel.”

“You can’t take the bike. Too noisy; too fuckin’ showy. Cops are already watching the club for her.”

“What do you mean they’re watching the club?”

“They’re watching every fuckin’ club. That’s why I wanted her arse inside and away from the fuckin’ windows.”

“I don’t get it,” I say. “If he knew where she was why didn’t he just bring the whole motherfuckin’ squadron in here and snatch her up?”

“Because then I’d be in the system, and he couldn’t have me for himself,” Indie whispers. “I could have spoken up and pinned my disappearance on him. If was safer to wait me out.

“Makes sense,” I agree, because what else is there to fuckin’ say?

“There’s a Dodge Charger in the garage,” Prez says. He walks around the centre island to the pantry and opens the door. Near the light switch sits a key holder with about ten different coloured keys on it. He lifts a black fob from the hook and hands it to me, reluctantly. “If you destroy my favourite car, I’ll put you to ground, Newbie.”

“I’ll treat her like she’s my own,” I say, smiling at him.

“Yeah, I seen that piece-of-shit bike you drive, you little fuck.”

“A Night Rod Special is not a piece of shit, Prez.”

“No, a Night Rod Special isn’t, but yours sure fuckin’ is.” Prez shakes his head and turns to Indie. “Make sure he doesn’t drive like a maniac.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Got you here in one piece, didn’t I? Come on. You need a jacket, and then we’ll head out.”

“We’re gonna do it in broad daylight?”

“No, we’re gonna do it tonight. But we can’t just walk in there and start shooting the motherfucker. We have to watch, make sure no one is around to witness it. We have to do this shit right, or I’m gonna wind up in jail, and you’re gonna be sent home, right where he can find you again.”

She lets out a deep, shuddering breath.

“Little faith, spitfire. He’ll be dead by the end of the day, and then you’ll be free to live the rest of your life. Move to another city, or another fuckin’ country. You’ll be free.”

Tears well up in her eyes and she nods. “Yeah, why don’t I just move to fucking Ibiza and forget any of this ever happened.” She storms up the stairs, and I’m left wondering what the fuck I said to make her so fucking antsy. I’m not expecting her to forget what they did to her. She could live a lifetime and never forget that, but Jesus Fucking H Christ, if it were me, I wouldn’t ever wanna set foot in that city again.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re an idiot,” Prez says with a laugh.

“What?”

“What?” he says. “Are you fuckin’ missing a couple brain cells there, Kid?”

“Fuck you.”

“The bitch is probably feelin’ a little bit fuckin’ vulnerable. She’s been abducted, tortured, raped, mutilated, she’s lost teeth and fucking years off of her life in a few short weeks, and you fuck her, you make her feel as if she finally has somethin’ good and stable to fuckin’ hang on to, and then you go and tell her to move to another country?”

Country comes back from the gym, hauling another load of shit that belongs to the two dead guys. “Didn’t your dad teach you nothin’ bout women, boy? They’re strong as a brick shithouse and fragile as a flower, all the same time.”

“What Country’s trying to say is that the girl needs someone to be strong for her. She’s done a bang-up job on her own, but sometimes you gotta be able to fall apart and know someone is there to pick up the fucking pieces. Don’t be a dick.”

“Is that what Raine does for you, Prez? Picks up the pieces when you fall apart?”

“Get outta here, fucker.” He shoves me, and it’s not so playful. Think I hit a nerve.

I don’t bother getting my shit from upstairs; I don’t know where we’ll end up tonight. I guess that depends on whether we put the Priest to ground or not. I have some ideas about what I’d like to do to him, but ultimately, that decision is up to her. I meet Indie at the door. Her face is red, as if she’s been crying, and she’s hiding it behind her hair.

“You nervous?”

“No, just impatient.”

I lift her chin until her eyes meet mine. “You don’t have to do this. I can do this for you. I don’t know what you want me to be, but whatever that is I’ll try. It might not work, but I can promise you right now I can take care of this for you.”

“I have to do it myself. I have to see the fear in his eyes that he put in mine. I wanna watch him burn, and then I’m going to dance in the ashes.”

“Whatever you need, baby.”

She smiles up at me, but it’s hardened and doesn’t touch her eyes. She’s not the girl I joked with on the couch yesterday, she’s not the broken woman I held in the shower, and she’s not even the sweet satiated woman I lay in bed with this morning because revenge is sweet. Until it isn’t.