Page 26 of Stag

“Okay, so we’re done?”

The Bennetts grinned widely. “Once you’ve helped with the dismembering and disposal, bruv.”

Ugh, so why the fuck was I wiping myself down if I’d get bloodier first.

“Look, I’ve gotta ask, bruv. Is the makeup thing like a statement, or is it you desperately trying to get your hands on some goth titties?”

Makeup. Makeup? OH FUCK.

Chapter Eleven

Never again. Never ever again. I got back to the clubhouse compound that afternoon, and went straight to Micro’s office, throwing the door open, and scaring the crap out of him and Harley.

“The fuck!?”

I kicked the door closed and kicked it again for good measure.

“Stag, you wanna ease up on my fucking door? You’re lucky you didn’t crash in on me and Soph and wake the baby!”

“You have any idea what I’ve been doing all fucking day? DO YOU?”

Their eyes darted toward each other, and Micro pointed at the coffee pot.

“Of course I want a fucking coffee. I’m never sleeping again, no fucking way.”

I dropped heavily onto the chair and groaned. I ached all over, because that’s what happens when you’ve had to beat a guy to death, carve up his body, and then bury it in a fucking pit that gets covered with that shit that melts the parts. Ugh. I could still fucking smell it.

I gagged at the images that filled my mind, coupled with that smell, and not for the first time, I knew I was gonna chuck. My stomach roiled angrily, and I just made it to the small bin in the corner, expelling nothing but coffee and bile, because no way I was ever eating again either.

“Jesus, Stag.”

I opened the door and threw the bin outside. Fuck the mess. I’m not a prospect. I slammed it again and sagged against the cool surface.

“Sit.”

I did, because my legs were done holding me up. Micro pressed a coffee into my hand, and Harley rested a hand on my shoulder.

“Talk to us, brother. You look like you’ve been through hell. Or seen a ghost, I dunno.”

I sighed, staring at the murky liquid in the paper cup.

“I mean, technically I created a ghost.”

Micro crouched in front of me.

“Brother, look at me. They made you kill for them?”

I nodded, and watched the outrage on his face, mirrored I’m sure on Harley’s too. What did they expect though? The guys were mobsters, right?

“Tell me, brother. I’m so sorry that happened, but that’s it. Done. You’re not going back there.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Talk.”

I did. I explained it all, every fucking detail, and watched as Micro paled in front of me.

“They made you do what?! The sick fuckers.”