The tension was winding up inside of me, gathering speed with every death. I tried to train it out of me by hitting the gym every day, punishing my body until it was spent and fatigued. And when that didn’t work, I threw myself into my work, mistakenly thinking that if I had control of everything else around me, then I would have control of my rising anger. My days were long. Demanding. And I would look forward to the end of the day when I could pull my queen into my arms and worship her body with every inch of mine.
But even the comfort of Indy’s sweet kisses and sexy body couldn’t keep the tension at bay forever. It kept building and building, winding up like a tightly coiled spring deep inside of me.
When Irish’s funeral came along, I was so numb by all the death and loss, I was dangerous and I knew it. The funeral was another gathering of chapters. Another MC funeral where a cut was lowered into the ground, and another brother was honored with a celebration back at the clubhouse in true Kings of Mayhem style. But there was an undercurrent of distrust. A sinister entity simmering just beneath the surface. Some believed Tex’s death was an accident, and that Irish had committed suicide. But they were the minority. Distrust hung like a thick layer of smoke over our club. I drank my whiskey, but not enough of it to numb me. After the fourth or fifth shot, I was done. I needed peace. I needed to be in the arms of my woman.
Indy drove us toward our home. And in my black mood, I just wanted to shut out the world and hold Indy close to me, and drink in the scent of her to calm my mind. There was no peace outside of her embrace and I was so damn tired.
It was late afternoon. Only a few other cars were on the road. My head was pounding. I needed sleep. Weeks of torment had caught up to me and my mind was dark.
My first realization of the beat-up truck was when it roared past us. I watched absentmindedly as it closed the space between it and the car in front, the pickup driver tailgating like a madman. He had my attention when he started to nudge at the bumper. He had my full attention when he rammed it and almost sent the car flying off the road.
I sat up straight.
“What the hell!” Indy said, watching the incident unfold in front of us.
“Slow down,” I said.
“He’s going to run that car off the road,” Indy gasped.
I put my arm out. “Hang back, baby.”
She slowed down to put space between us and the two cars in front.
With a third ram into the bumper, the car lost control and spun off the road. Instead of taking off, the truck came to a skidding halt next to it and a redneck with an axe climbed out. I heard the driver of the car screaming as the crazy redneck swung his axe down on her windshield.
“Pull over,” I said to Indy.
She didn’t argue and pulled over.
“Lock the doors and call an ambulance,” I said. Because when I’m finished with him, he’s going to need it. I felt the tension in me snap. I knew the bomb in me was about to detonate and I felt powerless to stop it.
The lady driver of the car was screaming for help as the wildman with the axe continued to smash her windows and her car, hollering at her about cutting him off in traffic. He was going to kill her, he said. He was going to fuck her up, he yelled, as he rained his axe down on her car, over and over again. She was terrified and crying, begging him to stop, holding her hands up in front of her face as glass floated around her like confetti.
I stormed toward them, and when the crazy redneck saw me coming, he casually turned his back and began to walk away. I continued after him. When he threw the axe in the back of his truck and opened the driver’s door to climb in, I hauled him backwards, sending him to the ground. He got to his feet swinging, but I smashed my fist into his face and immediately rendered him useless. The second blow opened up his nose. The third broke it. Then I couldn’t stop. The tightly coiled tension snapped inside of me and I continued to pound into him with my fist, my rage roaring out of me with all of my fear and frustration. With all of my hate and my pain. All of my agony. It boomed out of me like a missile. And I drove it into his face over and over again.