BearIf I said I wasn’t expecting to see her on my drive, I’d be lying to myself. Since I ran into Kitka last night—or maybe, more accurately, since Kitka forced herself on me—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Sunday. She was with me while I slept, haunting my dreams, and she was there with me through every single hit, punch, and jab I landed on that Filth and Butcher son of a b***h.
When I had finally knocked the little motherfucker out, his body lying still and silent at my feet, Vance came bounding towards me, a look of fury in his eyes.
“You did that for the club!” he shouted over the cheers and boos from the crowd. “My man! You’re back in action!”
I knew what he meant, but he was dead f*****g wrong. After I’d talked to Kitka, after I’d heard her story about Sunday and Cobra
