Free Purge (Death Crusaders Motorcycle Club) by Sandy Kline

a
hardened killer like you. How many people have you killed anyway?”
    At first I think he’s not
going to answer, and then he rolls up his sleeve. I’ve seen the tattoo before.
There are several rows of black hearts across his left bicep. It should have
registered before but I was far too naïve to register what this could mean.
    “How many?” I ask him.
    “Twenty-three.” He replies.
His voice and expression is void of emotion. I would have thought there’d be
pride or sorrow or some kind of feelings behind the tattoos.
    “You killed that many
people?” I’m flabbergasted! I would have expected maybe ten at most, but almost
two dozen? You gotta be kidding me.”
    “I take no pride in it.” He
replies.
    “Small comfort for your
victims.”
    “Believe me they weren’t
victims. They deserved what they got with the exception of the man I beat in
that MMA fight. I meant to destroy him not kill him.”
    “And the other 22
non-victims? How did they become so deserving of death by your hands?” I ask
him, expecting a long line of bullshit.
    “Some were purely
self-defense while others were strategic moves to keep my club at the top of
the food chain.”
    “Top of the food chain,
really? You just kill people willy nilly so you can be the alpha male or alpha
motorcycle group? Life is cheap for you Sean Martin.”
    “Assassinations are strategic
moves taken to save lives of my brothers down the road. If a club shows
weakness you become a target and if you’re a target everyone moves in on you
and brothers start falling. I don’t take it lightly when I take another man’s
life Jen.”
    “Well…I guess that’s a good
thing then, but how come you guys can’t get through life without killing when
everyone else seems to be able to function without carrying out assassinations?
    “What?” He asks. “Didn’t I
just explain that? Hell the towns own police force does just about the same
thing. If they don’t remain strong and undivided they’ll get picked off by
gangs. They may not kill as much as a gang does or a MC does, but they do just
about everything else to remain the alpha gang in the city.”
    “You have a very twisted take
on life.”
    “I’m not going to apologize
for who I am Jen. Most of us are shaped by our past; specifically our
childhood. As much as shrinks love to pin childhood traumas on present day
acts, it really is true I think.”
    “I had a pretty messed up…no
fucked up childhood but you don’t see me out there killing people.”
    “Maybe not, but maybe it’s
just luck that’s kept you from being in a position where you would take a life.
You certainly adapt readily to firearms. All I had to do was just stick a gun
in your hands and you were blazing away.”
    “No shit, Sherlock, I had
too. It was self-defense.”
    “I’ve seen a lot of old ladies
or even a few prospects who weren’t able to pull the trigger when the time
came. Either they couldn’t or wouldn’t. You needed no convincing. You even
carry Piper’s gun in your purse. Or did you dump it?”
    I grab my purse off the
counter and pull out Piper’s gun. On impulse I draw my hand back to chuck it at
him but change my mind and just slide it across the counter where it crashes
into his coffee cup. Blade gets showered with hot coffee and ceramic shards
from what used to be a nice mug. His eyes flash with anger and his fists
clench. Perhaps that wasn’t the best move on my part. He has changed since I
was here last. He’s grimmer than he used to be. He’s quicker to anger.
    “Don’t take my being nice to
you for weakness woman!” His shoot daggers into my chest and I can almost feel
the barbs sink in.
    “Sorry about that Blade.
Sometimes when you’re right it just infuriates me.”
    “See, you’re no angel
either.”
    “I blame that on my
childhood.”
    “In your case I actually
think that applies.”
    “I certainly have the scars
to prove it.”
    “Yes you do and it’s part of
what makes you