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much more gruesome. Fuck, the disposal had been more gruesome. Something about digging the man up instead of letting him stay there.
    They’d had orders, though, and they’d had to follow them.
    “I ain’t in here to discuss what went down with Boss, brother,” he said as nice as he could, when he wanted to rip Rack’s throat out.
    “Nothing new there, brother .”
    “Yo’, Rack, if you have a p roblem, you need to get gone,” Val advised, chewing on the straw he’d just used to slurp up beer and thrusting his chin toward the door.
    “We aren’t here to dig up old shit,” Digger advised, then laughed, although Outlaw didn’t find what he said funny. “Get it? Dig ?”
    “Shut your dumb ass up, pardner,” Mortician growled. “With your Winnie-the-Pooh ass.”
    “That was Trigger,” the man amended.
    “You mean Tigger , dumb ass,” Mortician corrected his brother. He rolled his eyes, reached over and slapped Digger’s arm. The two men shared a strong family resemblance but Digger was slightly taller than his older brother.
    “Can it. All of you,” Outlaw said. He focused on his vice president again. “Heed my fuckin’ words. You want somebody to pick on, go find somebody your own fuckin’ size. She was hungry. You shoulda fed her.”
    “She’s also homeless,” Rack said with a smirk. “I didn’t hear you inviting her to stay here. And you lucky I decided to bring her here and not take my money out of her ass.”
    Bitches came and went. Every man in the club had his favorite piece of ass and many of them had their old ladies. But the thought of Rack putting his big paws on that gorgeous little piece infuriated Outlaw. He shot from his seat, knocking it over, and grabbed Rack by the throat.
    “You fuckin’ touch her, I’m gonna let Digger shovel out your grave and give Mortician a shot at you with all his s pecial little tools. We clear?” He pressed his fingers into the man’s neck until his eyes started bugging out, then he abruptly released him.
    Rack slumped into the chair, holding his throat and gasping for breath.
    “Who the fuck else was with you?”
    Rack threw him a dirty look and tightened his lips.
    “That’s the way it is, huh, Rack?” Outlaw didn’t have time to deal with a young bitch who had more spunk than sense. However, he intended to impress upon Rack what a wise decision it would be not to harm her if he ever ran into her again. “I’ll deal with you after this fuckin’ meetin’ ends. Right now, we gotta get ready for distribution and collection.”

    O utlaw braked his bike before killing the engine and toeing the kickstand down. The creek languished beneath the sun, the glare bouncing off the placid gray water. He stared at nothing in particular, enjoying the warmth on his face, though it was as cold as a motherfucker. Lighting up a smoke, he walked to the edge of the water. He needed the peace and quiet, the beauty of nature. He had some hard shit facing him and if he didn’t survive, he hoped his last thought would be of this place. The serenity to be found here.
    God knows, he’d had little enough of peace, quiet, or serenity. Not in the last fourteen or fifteen years. Since the age of twenty, he’d killed God knew how many dumb fucks. He’d stolen shit from rival clubs. He’d run guns. He’d moved drugs. He’d gotten himself and his brothers out of some pretty fucking tough spots. Outlaw knew his time was coming to a close. Motherfuckers just couldn’t keep fucking with dangerous shit and continue to live. Sooner or later, luck walked the fuck away, leaving a poor bastard with a knifed or bullet-ridden body, then small parts of you buried deep in forests and shit.
    Or buried the fuck alive.
    His cigarette was almost burned out, but he took a drag anyway. He gazed to his left where lush vegetation mingled with tall trees before sloping to a flat carpet of grass and the creek. He stilled. For the first time, he noticed a bundle curled up beneath a