Page 18 of Venom's Sting
“What kind of man beats on a woman? These guys are absolute garbage,” he responds hotly.
My best friend is not wrong about that. We jump on our bikes and head for the southern part of Las Salinas. It’s after work hours, so I suspect they will be at one of the local bars or eateries.Even if we find all four of them together, I have no worries about our ability to kick their asses.
It takes a good two hours to track them down. After walking in and out of every restaurant, bar, and strip club in Las Salinas, we find them hanging out at a burger joint with a play park. They had huge piles of fucking tiny sliders on their trays like they were five or something. They had at least twenty each and were laughing it up like fucking kids.
I start walking towards their table, but Rage’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Not here, brother. There are kids near.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” Reluctantly I back off and we head outside to see if we can figure out which vehicle looks like it belongs to these assholes. It’s an easy pick really, because there’s only one pick-up truck that looks like it belongs on a farm. It has hay in the back and a hand-written license plate in the window with their number and the words, ‘missing tag’ written across the top.
Rage pulls open his pocketknife and drives it into the back tires. So much for their getaway vehicle. The last fucking thing we needed was them running us down on our motorcycles with their trashed out pick-up truck. Fifty of their trucks wouldn’t equal the value of my Harley, so we were taking no chances today.
We wait around for them to come out. Half an hour later, they come out with gigantic milkshakes in their hands, just chatting away like they don’t have a care in the fucking world.
We wait until they’re right beside their vehicle and then I pounce on the larger one, Big Joe. Rage jumps on Hal, the next biggest. These two were the fuckers I’d seen at the coffee shopthat first time. I gotta say these men are not fat, they are thick-necked, robust, and stout as bulls. The third one just stands around, looking agitated and keeps telling us to cut it out before someone calls the cops. Amy had said there was a fourth, but I’m guessing he doesn’t get out much.
I’m having way too much fun beating the everlovin’ shit out of Big Joe. After giving his face a knuckle makeover, I begin punching him full force in the ribs. I can hear some crunching going on, maybe he didn’t break Amy’s ribs, but this fucker’s gonna regret beating on a woman.
That’s when Rage’s voice drifts from the side, and he sounds pissed, “Aren’t you finished with your guy yet? Stop fucking dancing with him and cold-cock the fucker.”
I glance over and see that Hal is lying on the ground, a crumpled, bloody mess. The other man has backed off and is just watching. Big Joe is not looking so good. In fact, he glares at me as he spits blood out onto the ground.
“This is about fucking Amy, isn’t it?” As if the ignorant fool had to ask.
“You know that it is. I told you she was mine and warned you not to mess with her again. I remember you saying you didn’t want any trouble with the Savage Legion and now, here we are.”
“Fuck, I didn’t hurt her. I just gave her a slap.”
The third man calls from the sidelines, “Big Joe doesn’t know his own strength. It’s not his fault.”
I glance at Rage. “Can you shut that fucker up.”
He turns to jog over to the timid, mouthy one, but Big Joe stops us. “Leave Dan alone and tag team me. I’m all warmed up. I can take you both now.”
“What’s that, Joe? You in the mood to be a hero tonight?” I sneer at him.
He cracks his knuckles. “Nope, just dying for a good work out.”
Rage is on him inside of three seconds and we take turns whaling on him until he’s on the ground and not moving, then we turn to Dan. He’s not exactly trembling but he’s certainly anxiety ridden.
I point a finger right at him and articulate my words clearly. “I want you and your stupid ass friends to stay away from my old lady.”
“What? Are you married or something?” Dan stammers.
I can’t figure out if this one is dumb, or just plain innocent. I spell it out for him, “It means, married or not, she’s my woman. What’s the deal with these assholes?” I say gesturing to the two on the ground.
He glances at Big Joe and Hal, “My brothers aren’t as bad as they seem.”
“What do you mean, brothers? Are the three of you blood brothers? You look like a fucking variety pack.”
He nods. “We’re half-brothers, same father, but different mothers. We don’t have the Grayson name, but Rufus is our father.”
“Fuck me! You mean to tell me that you’re beating up on your fucking niece?” I exclaim. Amy said nothing about that, I wonder if she actually knows they’re her relatives.
“It’s not like that,” Dan tries to explain.
“What is it like then? Because to me I just see a bunch of fucking degenerates terrorizing a poor woman.”
He lets out a sigh, “You don’t understand, we gotta keep on the old bastard’s good side.”