PUSHING MY BLACK HOOD BACK, I run a hand through my sweaty hair and pull my last cigarette out of the pack, before tossing the empty package in the backseat.
With tired eyes, I scope out the dump in front of me, while bringing the cigarette to my lips and lighting it, in hopes of calming my nerves a bit. I’m getting anxious, really fucking anxious, and my patience is running low.
I’ve been sitting across the street from Pete’s house, chilling in my truck for the last thirty minutes, and counting down the minutes until he arrives. I know that stupid fuck will be here soon, and I plan on surprising him with a little visit before he can disappear and hide out.
He gets off work at seven o’clock on the dot and arrives home a quarter after. I’ve done my research. His club might protect him when they’re in his presence, because they have no other choice, but that doesn’t do shit for him when he’s alone and in my hands.
Taking another long drag, I watch as Pete’s broken down Dodge Neon pulls into the driveway.
My heart instantly comes alive with adrenaline and my blood starts pumping as I watch him jump out of the brown shitbox and slam the rusty door shut. For being a mechanic he sure as shit doesn’t put any of his skills into fixing his own car . . .
I wait until he’s pulling out his keys to unlock the house door before I step out of my truck and crack my neck, tossing my cigarette across the yard.
Walking fast, I rush up the steps in three long strides and place my foot in the door, right as he’s attempting to close it.
“Ah fuck!” Pete pushes against the door to close it when he notices it’s me, but quickly realizes that he’s fucked and I’m not going anywhere. “Crazy, dark motherfucker.”
Lifting a brow, I stand up straight and kick his door open, sending him flying back to land on the floor. “I’m crazy as hell.” I cock a brow as I look down at him. “The devil is in my veins and he’s about to come out and play.”
Slamming the door shut, I lock it behind me and grab his neck, pulling him up to his feet. I swing out my fist, connecting it to his mouth, then swing again before he can even recover.
Cussing, he grabs his jaw and stumbles back, attempting to back away from me. “Are you fucking serious? In my own damn house.”
“Dead fucking serious,” I say tightly. “I suggest you tell me what the fuck I need to know.” I pull out my knife and rub my thumb across the blade. “Or you’ll be riding that piece of shit bike one handed for a while.”
He picks up an empty beer bottle and tosses it at my head, missing. “Shit!” He jumps over his couch and quickly falls to the floor to reach underneath it.
I wasn’t born yesterday. I know he’s packing and most likely keeps an extra there for quick access.
I spin my knife around and kneel down, stabbing it through his hand before he can pull his gun out.
He screams out in pain and grabs at the knife with his good hand. “Fuck me! Shit! Shit! Take it out!”
Pinning his free hand under my boot, I grab the knife handle and slightly twist it, leaning close to his greasy face. “Tell me when the fuck Brian is coming, you stupid piece of shit!”
He doesn’t say anything, so I push down on the knife, making him scream out again as blood gushes from his shaking hand. “Okay!” He screams. “Okay. Okay.” He closes his eyes and takes a few small breaths. “All I know is that he’s coming to town either next week or the week after. He’ll be around for a few days visiting some old friends.”
I suck in a deep breath and slowly release it. My whole body is screaming to cut his fucking heart out. “That’s all you know, Petey?” I grab the handle tighter and pretend to twist it again.
He instantly cries out and starts squirming below me. “Yes! I swear. That’s all he said.”
Leaning my head back, I growl out, before ripping the knife out of his hand and standing up.
Pete rolls over and cradles his fucked up hand in his slightly less fucked up hand. “He’ll be contacting me once he gets to town. I know he’ll stop by at some point to visit. Fuck this shit. Brian can fuck off now.” He grabs his hand tighter and crawls to his knees in pain. “Fuck!”
“I’ll be watching. Thanks for the info, Asshole.” I wipe my blade off on his dirty brown couch, before letting myself out and shutting the door behind me.
I jump back inside my truck and look around for a cigarette, punching the steering wheel when I remember that I’m out.
“Shit!”
I run both of my hands through my hair and look over toward the passenger seat when I notice the light on my phone blinking.
I’m surprised as shit to see who the message is from. I almost don’t open it, but realize that I can’t stop my fingers from moving.
Avalon: I need to see you. I’m on my way to your house.
I read her message a few times, taking in her use of words. She needs to see me . . . I get a small ache in my chest at the thought of her needing me.
My heart sinks when I look at the time, noticing that it’s been almost an hour since she sent the message.
Without taking the time to reply, I drop my phone into my lap and grip the steering wheel to get my thoughts in check.
My plan was to stay far away from her so there’s no chance of pulling her into my hell, but the thought of her waiting for me has me pulling off and heading toward my house like an idiot, hoping that she’s still there.
Fuck. If you’re smart . . . you’ll be gone.