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Property of Short

How did I get my name? Nah, let’s leave that story for another day. Fact is, at six foot seven, I’m the tallest member of the King’s of Anarchy Arizona chapter, with a physique to match my height. Men fear me just for my size alone.

But my bulk only meant I went down more heavily, when I came off my bike due to an ambush. Knocked out, crushed under my bike, left for dead, the brothers with me had to battle it out on their own. When I eventually came back to life, it was to find, as expected, the Kings had vanquished the enemy in that they’d soon turned their backs and fled. For now.

Me though? Well, I was beaten up quite badly, taken back to the club, and subjected to the mercies of our on-call medic, who I hate with every bone in my body.

It was no secret that though his medical proficiency wasn’t in doubt, he’d been struck off the practitioners’ register due to his more dubious activities with patients. With the Kings being his best customer now, we knew he’d treat us and keep his mouth shut.

Turns out we didn’t know the depths of the depravity in Doc’s past. Can we turn a blind eye? He’s an important asset to us, one we couldn’t replace easily. One especially necessary now we’re being targeted by another club.

Are there limits to what even the Kings of Anarchy can stomach?

I have a personal reason for wanting to prove where that line lies.