Page 161 of Indecent Lies

People were just not grateful at all.

Inspecting his bike for a second, he’d given it a fresh meticulous polish before he left his cabin this morning and rode down the mountain.

If he had attachments, then she would be one of them.

Chrome laced wheels with whitewall tires, pull back handlebars and the trim was midnight blue, softail frame with a retro modern style. She was a thing of beauty and Lawless’ current ride, having laid out nearly twenty big ones only four months ago for the Harley Deluxe.

She was his sixth motorcycle since joining the MC. And eight in total.

“Sweet ride, boss.” The younger guy whistled sidling up to Lawless, his hands stuffed down in the front pockets of his worn denim. Shoulders up by his ears indicating how cold it was today with mist coming out of both their mouths and frost dusting the top of the mountains to the left.

He looked like any of the prospect hopefuls.

Fresh behind the ears with a look of determination in the eyes.

Lawless knew his past and would hazard a guess at his future.

The enforcer and all around self-proclaimed know-it-all set off toward` the main entrance. He had limited time and a lot to do.

The kid trailing him, walking a little faster to catch up.

He could guess at what he was thinking as he tipped his head back to get a good look at the whole compound.

TheSoulsplace was intimidating to anyone who was permitted through the three security gates.

Overkill?

Nah. Bad fish liked to try to come in uninvited and Lawless didn’t have enough duct tape and beef hooks for them all.

“Man, this place is fucking huge. It doesn’t look that big from back on the road.”

The kid was a talker. He better listen just as good.

Lawless was not a talker unless he wanted to be and today was not that day, so he let him go on as they got closer.

His mind was elsewhere.

No detail was left out.

Lawless, not even bragging, was good at that.

His head was a constant tick, even in his downtime and he knew how to put a plan into motion like it was fire dancing over his long fingers.

The back of his skull was already making too much noise.

Adrenaline pumping too fast.

Any other time he’d chain someone to the ceiling and make all his noise go away but there was no time for fun and games.

Get on with it.

Get it done.

Feel the blood on his fingers.

“You remember my specifics?” His rusty voice inquired.

There was only one right answer.