Prologue
463 Words
Prologue
I squeezed the clutch, rolled the throttle toward me, and switched into fifth gear. The wheels screamed as they tore at the pavement, blurring the colors around me.
I was pissed. They knew better than to pull this s**t on my territory.
Traffic was heavy for midnight, but I managed to take the back roads and alleys most of the way.
The fire was high, which meant the match would soon be over, and my blood burned through my ears when I came up over the dusty hill. I’d been more than fair with these guys, but since they disobeyed a direct order, blood would be shed.
As soon as my engine was heard over the screams, the massive crowd jumped out of the way and let me swing my bike into the center of the commotion.
Both men pulled the savage dogs apart and dropped them at their feet.
I rested my bike on the kickstand and removed my helmet. A few people ran away, and others tried to see who I was.
I pointed right at the local drug runner, who mostly sold shitty weed, and waited for him to sweat it out.
“Trigger, man, I know what you said, but…”
I tuned him out and looked down at the pit bull. His throat was mangled, and he struggled to breathe and let out the tiniest whimper. A plea to end this s**t.
He never asked for this life, never asked to fight to his death for a few hundred bucks.
I couldn’t help but see my own reflection in his eyes. See the hate rooted deep, entangled to his core. No peace, only darkness.
“I needed the cash, man. My sister is in trouble, and my ma is strung out.” The drug dealer tried a different angle.
I raised my gun and pointed it at the junkie while I whistled for Brick and Rail to remove the dog to a safer place. At least he could die somewhere peaceful, if only for a moment.
“What the f**k, man? He had another fight left in him.”
I swung around and punched him so hard he blew back off his feet and landed next to the winning dog, who was foaming at the mouth.
The owner looked around while he fought to hold back the hungry dog.
“I said no dog fights.” My voice boomed over the crowd. “Not on my territory.”
No one said a word as I took the rope and pushed the owner next to the drug dealer. I leaned down and stroked the dog’s back. He started to bark and whip around at my touch. Something I understood all too well.
“Go,” I said simply and let the rope race through my fingers.
The crowd went still as the dog ripped apart the two men limb by limb. Blood covered his head, and screams flooded into the night.
- Writer
