Crow: Kings of Carnage MC - Prospects

Standing abruptly to help him, my stool falls back as I run around the counter and through the tables of men hollering and cheering on the chaos. The drunk man is already on his feet and about to come after North but I step in between them and block his hand, twisting it behind his back causing him to lift himself onto his tiptoes to ease the pain of his shoulder about to pop out of its socket.

“Let go! Let go! I’m done!” he slurs, trying to look over his shoulder at me.

He looks a lot like Ted Bundy if I had to describe him. Button-up shirt sticking halfway out of his dress pants, and brown shiny shoes. His hair brown and messy, matching his dipshit eyes.

North rubs at his jaw, staring the man down like a roach that needs to be taken care of immediately.

“Take him out back,” he orders me.

I have no idea how to get out back besides going out the front door, but North turns, walking toward a door and I follow, pushing the man in my hold to follow. We head down a hallway, naked girls gasping as we walk through, and Aspen, the woman I always see North with, rushing out of an office with fear on her face.

“Is the new girl okay?” she asks North.

“Yeah, she’s in the dressing room but she took a hard fall, you might to go check on her.” North runs his hand down her arm as he passes her, but she stops right in front of me, making me come to a stop.

“You asshole!” Waving her hand back, she slaps the man across the face, the noise of palm to cheek loud.

“Aspen!” North barks, but she doesn’t take her fierce eyes off the drunk man, her blonde hair framing her face as she stares at him with a rage of a scorned mother. “I’m going to take care of it,” North tells her, the promise of violence lingering on the tip of his tongue.

She huffs and forces herself to walk away, her heels clicking along the floor as she rushes to check on the new girl.

“Come on,” North says, and I continue pushing the man down the hall until we reach a door. North opens it and holds it open for me to walk through. A light attached to the building illuminates just enough for me to see gravel and some grass growing just behind the property.

North snatches the man by the back of the neck and throws him to the ground, he rushes to him and kicks him in the ribs. Drunken Ted Bundy lookalike heaves and coughs before rolling over onto his back.

North’s head slowly rises to look at me, his eyes asking me if I’m going to help or turn a blind eye and go back inside. This is it, my moment to show what I’ve got.

Closing the space between me and the man on the ground, I lean down, my knee pressing into the gravel and I grab his throat with one hand, lightly squeezing at first but with every passing second, my grip tightens, threatening his air supply. His legs kick up, and his hands frantically grab at my hand. I don’t budge.

“Are you afraid?” I calmly ask.

He doesn’t have to answer me, his round scared eyes tell me he’s terrified.

“Are you scared I might hurt you, really hurt you?” I squeeze harder, his face turning a blistering red as I take away his precious air.

North stands above us, one arm across his chest, the other bent with his hand on his chin.

“I want you to remember this moment, this feeling, and my face the next time you even think about touching a woman like that again. Do you understand me?”

His feet kick wildly, his mouth open wide enough I can see his swollen tongue.

“I can’t hear you!” I roar, my fingers ready to crack his esophagus.

He spits and gags, but ultimately nods his head in understanding, so I release him.

The sound of him sucking in as much oxygen as he can is music to my ears as I bring him to the edge of death. I fully stand, cracking my knuckles to relieve the pent-up energy.

“Get the fuck out of here.” North juts his head to the left and the man trips on his feet trying to get away, not looking back at us once.

Silence falls between North and me, he’s just looking at me holding his damn chin still.

“What’s your name again?”

“Crow.”

“Crow? Huh. Well, who taught you how to fight?”

That wasn’t really fighting, but I’m assuming not shying away from violence has him looking at me in a new light.

“Life,” I mutter.

Dropping his hand, he rubs his palms together.

“Well, Crow. Get in your grocery getter and follow me. I have someone I want you to meet.”