The Psycho (The Soldiers of Anarchy 1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Adam

Inever thought I’d be jealous of two little boys, but here I was, staring at her closed door, wondering why the fuck I wasn’t breaking it down after a kiss like that?

That fucking kiss.

I felt like it was the kiss I’d been waiting to experience my whole life.

Being with her soothed my soul. Sleeping in her presence was the best and deepest sleep I’d had since I was a kid. But kissing her? Having her in my arms? There were no fucking words. It was everything.

And she kissed me back.

She put her arms around me, pulled me to her, and kissed me back like she wanted it as much as I did. She might’ve shut the door in my face and told me to leave, but there was no way I could ever walk away from her. Not now. Not after that. She was ingrained in my soul, etched into my whole being. Cut me open and you’d find her name tattooed over my heart. She fucking owned me, and I couldn’t wait to own her too. Make her mine in every way possible.

I stayed outside her back door, hearing her laughing with her brothers. But when my phone vibrated and I pulled it out to see a stream of missed calls and messages from the soldiers, I knew I had to go back to reality. My Olivia would keep. I had eyes on her all the time, anyway. We’d made headway last night and this morning, and I was all for building on that, pulling her further in to my world. But I also had responsibilities that I couldn’t ignore. I had to get back to the asylum.

* * *

“Well, it’s all right for some, out all night, sowing their wild oats while the rest of us wade through the shit that gets thrown our way,” Colton announced with a sly grin on his face as I walked through the door of the games room.

“If you need me, you know where to find me,” I snapped back, not in the mood to deal with his shit today.

“We do. But it helps if you actually answer when we call. Your phone isn’t just for sending love messages to Olivia, you know? Shit, that thing is your bat signal,” Colton added dramatically, throwing his arms out and then sighing when I didn’t react.

“What shit are you talking about?” I asked, sitting on the sofa and scanning the room to gage the atmosphere. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just a text from that Cheslin fucker to let us know he got the shit kicked out of him in prison last night and he’s currently on the medical wing,” Devon informed me.

“Sounds like he’s on easy street,” I added, wondering why this was so important they’d bombarded my phone with messages and calls.

“Exactly! We need to hit him now, while he’s weak. We haven’t got long before he gets out and we need to keep the game going for a little longer,” Colton whined. “I’ve missed this shit. It’s fun.”

“What do you plan to do next?” Will asked, propping his feet up on the table in front of where he sat and lazing back, like he was waiting for someone else to do all the work.

“I say we challenge him to drop the soap in the showers. Go old school.” Colton’s eyes lit up at the thought. “Or better yet, he becomes someone’s bitch.”

The others laughed, but it wasn’t a joke to me. This guy had hurt a little girl. Destroyed a family. He needed to pay for what he’d done and then some. She was fourteen fucking years old. If anyone was going to inflict mind numbing pain on this fucker, it was going to be me.

“No showers, no fucking about. This is serious,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “We’ve scarred him, put a target on his back, and now he needs to do something for the poor sods who’re stuck in there with him, having to breathe the same putrid air as him.”

“Which is?” Will widened his eyes waiting for a response.

“He needs to smuggle in shit. Cigarettes, food, whatever the fuck Jake and Charlie say the inmates want. He’s gonna get it for them,” I stated.

“But he hasn’t had a visitor in years. How the fuck is he gonna manage that?” Will replied.

“That’s not my problem.” And I meant it. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if he failed. Whatever happened, he was still going to get ripped apart by the soldiers. His challenges changed nothing.

I started to tap out the next message, detailing the rules for his third task in his game of consequences. In my opinion, it was a pretty easy task. Okay, so he had no friends to help him, and getting anything past the guards would be impossible, but like I’d said to the others, that wasn’t my problem.

I hear condolences are in order. R.I.P to your safety on the main wing, Mr Cheslin. I bet you’ll do anything to be kept on that medical block, won’t you? But your game isn’t over. You passed your second task, but number three now awaits your attention.

In twenty-four hours, you will report to Jake Colt, who has a very specific list for you. That list contains every item that you will arrange to have brought into the prison and onto the wing. It’s a list of luxury items that every prisoner wants. Call it pay back for them having to endure all those months and years breathing the same air as you. Having to share a prison with a nonce like yourself.

If you get caught smuggling these items in, or if any other prisoner gets reprimanded as a result of your actions, you will fail the task. If you don’t get the items onto the wing by six p.m. on Friday, you will fail the task. Fail, and you’ll be begging to go up against Charlie Dunn and his men again, instead of facing us.

We will be in touch.

The Soldiers.

“I love the club, but sometimes, I miss the streets,” Colton said, and we all turned to look at him as if he’d gone mad. “What I meant was, I can’t wait to get back to that warehouse and kick the ever-loving shit out of this guy and then laugh as he goes straight to hell. Was I not making myself clear?”

I huffed out a laugh. He wasn’t wrong. Soldiers were who we were. This was what we knew. All the other shit was just decoration to the lives we’d fought for. Fancy trimmings that we really didn’t need. We stood up for those who couldn’t, and when this fucker got released, he’d be praying he’d never heard of the soldiers of anarchy.