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“Back off, Pops. He’s hurt. He did his best.”
“No, the fuck he did not,” Enforcer said, glaring at us.
I groaned. “Yes, I did. Maybe next time match us up equally. That fucker had at least fifty pounds and three inches on me. Take a play out of the humans’ MMA handbook. You have to match us equally for it to be an equal fight.” I glared at my uncle.
He scoffed. “Vamp versus wolf. It’s that simple and you lost and fucking humiliated me. We don’t need human rules to fight each other.”
“We don’t need to be fighting each other at all!” I screamed, lunging toward my uncle.
He side-stepped and Enforcer stepped in front, and caught the brunt of my wrath. My ribs and head ached but it was nothing debilitating.
Enforcer yelled when I tackled him to the ground. I sat on his chest and pummeled his face into a bloody pulp.
Every hit was a blow of anger toward my uncle.
Making me fight when I didn’t want to. Punch.
Beating my ass with a belt saying I needed it since I didn’t have a father around. Punch.
Making me watch him beat Jake’s ass and leave his whole face purple after we shoplifted candy bars from the local convenience store when we were eight. Punch.
Enforcer and Uncle Jimmy discussing going into the skin trade to make some money. Exploiting young women to make a quick buck, Enforcer nudging my uncle to consider it. Telling him he had connections. Punch.
“Stop it! Stop it!”
I didn’t know whose voice that was, and I didn’t care. I just kept pummeling Enforcer until he lay still underneath me.
Someone picked me up under my arms and threw me into the van. I stared blankly at Enforcer’s unmoving body lying next to me, my knuckles dripping blood onto the van floor as my cuts healed.
But my soul never would. That day had left a black stain on it.
Once we got back to the clubhouse, I didn’t fight when Uncle Jimmy dragged me into the middle of the warehouse and yelled at me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you! You’re a little psychopath!”
“I’m not little—”
“Shut the fuck up!” he screamed, the scars on his face distorting. “Look what you did to Alan. Look!” He pointed at Enforcer’s unmoving body. “You fucking killed him, you psycho! That’s all you are! A little psycho. A sociopath. This is what happens when boys don’t have a father. Your whore mother should have aborted you! I told her to after she mated with that no-good useless human! Your mother’s a no-good slut!”
I reared my arm back and punched him in the mouth.
His third tooth on the right side was still missing to this day.
Enforcer didn’t survive. I’d killed him. And it was Scar’s fault.
Enforcer didn’t deserve the wrath of my personal demons, but he deserved what I’d rained down on him. He wasn’t a good guy, and I’d justify until the day I die that I saved lives by ending him.
Not that I’d meant to, but it was what it was.
But… I gained a little more respect that day. And a new nickname.
“Hey, this one’s got the lights on.”
I slunk out of my memory and looked at Trigger, who pointed at a warehouse with lights burning inside.
And a black van parked outside.
“Bingo,” I whispered.
