Chapter Two
Havoc
Two Weeks Later
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“Get the fuck up, motherfucker,” I demanded, keeping my eyes trained on the asshole on the floor in front of me, but also maintaining my awareness of his sidekick who was standing to my right. Any lapse in concentration on my behalf, and his sidekick would take me down and fuck my agenda to buggery.
The guy on the floor slowly began to move. He clutched his ribs where he’d taken a good beating from me. But he was taking his sweet ass time; time I didn’t have to waste.
Reaching down, I yanked him up hard by the collar of his shirt and yelled at him, “For fuck’s sake, what are you? A fuckin’ pussy who can’t cop a punch?” Once he was standing, I shoved him back against the brick wall, and pulled my phone out. Looking at the guy to my right, I said, “Move the fuck next to your friend while I make a call.”
He scowled at me but did what I said, and I put my phone to my ear while it rang.
“You got them?” Griff snapped into the phone.
“Yeah,” I answered him.
“Be there in a minute,” Griff said before hanging up on me.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and eyed the two idiots in front of me. Dickhead number one had ripped King, the President of the Sydney Storm charter off for more than twenty thousand dollars. A clear example of a man without a brain. Dickhead number two was in for a lot less, but had pledged allegiance to dickhead number one which made him just as much of a fuckwit.
“Why the hell are you doing King’s dirty work?” Dickhead number one piped up.
I wondered at the intelligence of the human race sometimes. Were we really as stupid as we sometimes appeared? And then my life flashed before my eyes and I was reminded that yes, sometimes we were. Sometimes we were blind to what was right in front of us. I met his gaze and replied, “You’d be surprised at the dirty work I do for King. But this time, I’m doing it for my President, Marcus. And he’s told me to do whatever it takes to get that twenty grand out of you.”
He opened his mouth and uttered another string of stupidity. “I’ll pay you off to let me go. How much do you want?”
I cracked my knuckles and then shrugged. “I’d rather take my frustrations out on your face, asshole. In fact, I kinda hope you don’t come up with the money today; that way I can do what I do best.”
Dickhead number two’s eyes widened a touch. He had more brains than I gave him credit for. “What the fuck?”
I stepped closer to them, and said, “Yeah, that’s what I was gonna ask you. What the actual fuck were you thinking ripping a club president off?”
“We were going to pay him back.” Number one was almost pleading now; well, his eyes were and I knew from experience his mouth would be soon too.
I was just about to reply when Griff entered the alley. We were in the alley behind the bar where I’d found these two, and I was keen to get this over with because it fucking stunk out here from all the rubbish littering it.
Griff jerked his chin at me. “Which one does King want us to deal with?” he asked, his voice clear that he intended to carry out King’s wishes. Griff was the Vice President of the Brisbane Storm charter and not a man to ever fuck with. In fact, he’d only just assumed this role after pushing out the prior VP. And that VP was the son of the President and I thought, a friend of Griff’s, so the ruthlessness of Griff’s actions was pretty fucking evident. Personally, I didn’t bother with friends and allies anymore so it didn’t concern me either way; I simply trusted no-one and it seemed to be the best way to live.
I pointed at dickhead number one, and Griff moved towards him. Speaking in a low, menacing tone, he asked, “How’s this gonna play out, motherfucker?”
“I ain’t got the money if that’s what you’re asking.”
Griff didn’t waste time; his knuckles collided with the guy’s cheek a moment later, and then he spoke again. “Shall we begin again?”
Number one glared at Griff, and spat at his feet before saying, “You can’t get fucking blood out of a stone, asshole. Tell King that he’ll get his money when I have it.”
My fist itched to be used but I waited for Griff’s signal. He’d been clear in his directions for this job; he wanted to have first go at these idiots before letting me loose. So I watched him, and I waited, because sure as fuck, these dickheads would need me to encourage them to pay up.
Griff’s hands latched onto number one’s shirt, and he pulled the idiot towards him before spinning him around, letting him go, and punching him so hard in the face that the guy fell to the ground. Standing over him, Griff bent at the waist and bellowed in his face, “You ever fucking spit on me again, and you might not have a mouth left to fucking produce spit.” He straightened, and indicated for the guy to get up before turning to dickhead number two. Pointing at him, he ordered, “You start thinking seriously about your next move. King wants the money you owe him too.” Turning back to number one, he was pissed to find the guy still trying to get up. He shook his head, and raised his fist but I was surprised to see him lower it almost straight away, and turn to walk my way.