I stood beside Toad’s bike and gazed blankly at him. “Alright, when we get there, I’ll get him in the garage. Just stand by my side. Then, when he gives you an opening, but only after he opens the safe, pull some fucking Marine shit and get him in a choke hold so I can question him.”

“I’m on it, Slice,” he said.

I gazed down at the ground and shook my head thinking about what we were about to do. As I shifted my eyes to Toad, I crossed my arms and sighed. “I’ll run into his house and get the pillow, just make sure you keep your fucking head out of the way. I guess it’s a good thing this fucker lives out in the country away from a bunch of people.”

“Let’s roll,” Toad responded.

Toad had proven himself over and over with the club. His ability to keep his mouth shut, willingness to participate in the more intricate club business, and for lack of a better term - downright toughness, made him a shoe-in for a seat on the board. I was proud to call him a brother. I hopped on my bike, flipped the on switch and hit the start button. As the motor began to rumble, I tossed my head forward motioning for Toad to lead.

As we pulled up to Hollywood’s house, he did as I expected. He walked out into the garage by the gun safe. Having his pistol, which was registered to him, should allow me to shoot him with it and make it look like a suicide. Technically, he’d need blood splatter on his hands for it to pass a good investigation, but shielding his face with the pillow should assist with not needing to meet that necessity. The pillow would also, if checked, meet DNA requirements and sampling for being his. Whatever financial problems he was having should pass for motive.

As soon as we shut off the bikes, Toad made his way into the garage.

I followed close behind holding the carrying case for the pistol. When I was a matter of a few feet from the garage, Hollywood opened the safe and began small talk with Toad. I slowed my stride and waited for Toad to make his move. Two more steps, and Toad had him in a choke hold. Now standing behind Hollywood, Toad had one arm around his neck, and another pressing the back of his head forward.

“Jesus Toad,” I said as I placed the pistol on the garage floor.

I hustled through the garage and into the house. After grabbing a pillow from Hollywood’s bed, I hurried back out into the garage. I tossed the pillow beside the pistol case and stood in front of Toad.

“Don’t kill his ass, I want to talk to him Toad, Jesus.”

Toad relaxed his hold on Hollywood’s neck. As he gasped for breath, I began to speak.

“I need to ask you a few things, ‘Wood. Now don’t disrespect me again by trying to bullshit me and act like I’m some dumb fuck that doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Why’d you set up the robbery with the Mexicans?”

Immediately shock washed over his face, followed by worry. After completely catching his breath and taking a short pause, he began to cry and attempt to explain.

“Slice, it got out of hand. I’m seventeen grand upside down on this place. You know it’s been tough since the divorce.” He coughed and started to blubber.

Right now, I don’t have a compassionate bone in my body. Crying like a pussy won’t change a thing. 

“They’re gonna foreclose on this fucker. I needed the money,” he blubbered.

Hell, I never thought it would be this easy to get you to admit it. Fuck. I still hoped it was all a lie, ‘Wood.

Still disappointed beyond comprehension, I stood in front of him with my arms crossed. Having him admit his participation allowed me to feel better about my own administration of justice. Not having him confess would never allow me any closure. As I stood and stared, still not quite believing he would betray the club, I started speaking my mind. “You know what? That Mexican motherfucker damn near killed Otis and I. I never said anything because I thought it originated in the club, and I wanted to find out for sure before I let the cat out of the fucking bag. And guess fucking what, motherfucker? That fucking girl that’s been a fender ornament for the last month is the one who saved us. Not a brother, not even a man, but a fucking college girl. She shot both those fucking beaners and saved our asses.”

“If you’d have asked, ‘Wood, we’d have had a fundraiser. That’s the sickening part. A poker run would have raised fifty grand. Hell, if you’d have asked me personally, I’d have flipped you twenty grand. Fuck this shit, you make me fucking sick, I’m done. Hold him, Toad,” I growled.

As Hollywood tried to explain, Toad cinched his grip tighter on his neck. Hollywood relaxed and went limp.

“You know I ain’t really a God fearing man, but on this earth, we got good and evil. Right and wrong. You know I read a lot to make me stronger in living life. Numbers 30:2 says.” I paused, bent over and picked up the pillow and pistol. “If a man vow a vow to the LORD, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond; he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth. To me, that applies to us. So, if you’re not a man who believes in the bible, you still took an oath to the club, and if you do believe in the bible, you took an oath with the club; but you’re bound by the belief of God and the bible. However you want to look at it, but you’re supposed to keep your fucking word. Either way, you fucked us. And you broke your word.”

I lifted the pillow in front of his face. “Move your head to the side, Toad, I don’t need both of your asses dead.”

I held the pillow up to his face, and pressed the pistol into the pillow and against his forehead. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Instantly, he fell limp into Toad’s arms.

“Toss his ass beside the safe,” I grunted.

I removed a round from the box of ammunition and bent down to where Hollywood lay on the floor. After pressing the bullet against his fingertips, I used his finger to push the round into the magazine.

I tilted my head toward the driveway. “Run and get those three phone books.”

Toad quickly returned with the three phone books. After wiping the pistol free of my fingerprints and placing the pistol in Hollywood’s hand, I cupped my hand around his and fired a round into the phonebooks. The brass casing fell to the garage floor.

I stood up and gazed down at a man I once admired and considered a brother. “Now his prints will be on the pistol, the brass, and he’s got cordite on his hand from firing the gun. Safe’s open, and it looks like he came out here, opened it, and shot his stupid self, using the pillow to muffle the sound. Hell, the fact they’re foreclosing gives him all the motive in the world. Alright. Take the phonebooks and the other brass from when I shot him and load that shit up. And grab his cut off the bars of his bike.”

As I wiped the fingerprints from the box of ammo and pistol case, Toad collected the phonebooks and the brass casing. Using my tee shirt, I opened the ammo box and placed it beside the safe. After doing the same with the pistol case, I turned toward the driveway. Toad sat quietly on his bike waiting.

In somewhat of a daze, I walked down the driveway to the bikes.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Toad said flatly as he started his bike.

Over the sound of his exhaust, I took exception to his comment. “What the fuck would you have done?”

He shook his head, then tilted it toward the garage. “I’d have just walked up and shot him. I was meaning all of the planting evidence. Shit, they’ll rule this deal a suicide and close the book.”

“Well, if there are any questions, I know the local cop, so it’s all good. Fucking piece of shit, I’m glad it’s over,” I hissed.

“Let’s roll,” Toad said as he popped his neck.

I stepped over the seat and looked up the driveway at Hollywood’s body. As I reached for the controls, I looked at my watch. It wasn’t even noon yet, and I was exhausted mentally and physically. I needed something to calm my nerves and put my head in a peaceful place. There was only one thing I could think of that I knew would provide me with such pleasure.

And she was waiting for me at home.