I gave him a questioning look but didn’t say anything; Griff wasn’t a big talker so I usually tried to keep communication with him to a minimum.

He shook his head, clearly annoyed.  Jerking his thumb in the guy’s direction, he muttered, “Fucked if I could be bothered; they’re all yours.  I don’t have the fucking inclination to deal with this shit today.”

I nodded, thankful that Griff had passed the job to me.  It had been a shit week so far and I felt the need to get rid of my pent up anger and frustration; these motherfuckers would help me with that.  Griff pulled out his phone and made a call, leaving me to it.

Adrenaline coursed through me at the thought of what was about to happen.  This was the best part of my job, and I was fucking good at it.  The results spoke for themselves and the club often called me in to take care of their shit around the country.  I took a step towards dickhead number one, my gaze glued to his.  Fear lurked in the depths of his eyes and rightly so.  I lifted my chin at him, and asked, “You got the money or do we have to find another way to settle this?”

He laid on the bullshit and I dug deep for the patience needed to deal with him.  “I can probably come up with half of it by tomorrow,” he said.

Failing to find any patience, I took one last stride in his direction, pulled my arm back, and smashed my fist into his face.  I welcomed the blood that flew at me; I fucking lived for that blood.  Not giving him time to catch a breath, I backed the first punch up with another one to his gut.  He doubled over in pain, swear words streaming from his mouth like a waterfall.  My mind wasn’t even processing his words, it was intently focused on drawing more blood and pain from him.  I continued to land punches on his face and body, until he collapsed onto the ground and curled himself up into a ball trying desperately to shelter himself from me. 

“Stop!” he screamed, drawing me from my violent haze.

I pulled back, caught my breath and demanded, “You got the money now, motherfucker?”

“Not all of it, but - ”

I didn’t give him time to finish that sentence.  Bending down, I reefed him up, and slammed him backwards against the wall.  I snarled in his face, “There will be no negotiations.  Either you’ve got the fucking money or you don’t.”

“And if I don’t?  What happens then?”

I took a moment, moving a step backwards.  Narrowing my eyes on him, I asked, “This the first time you’ve ever owed King money?”

“Yeah, why?”  He was doing a damn good job at appearing unaffected, but his tells were there and I could read all of them.

“I just thought I’d educate you a little, because it seemed to me like you were under the impression that there are options here.  When you owe King that kind of money, you pay.”  I paused for a moment to let that sink in.  When he showed no signs of understanding, I elaborated.  “You either pay up or King finds another way to encourage payment.”

His brow furrowed.  “Not sure I’m following,” he said.

Fuck me.  “Jesus fucking Christ, you are a dumb cunt, aren’t you?” I muttered.  Seriously, how this fucker managed to get through life astounded me.  I reached for the back of his head, grabbed a handful of his hair, and pulled his head back.  Leaning close to his face, I asked, “You like breathing, motherfucker?  You like your family members breathing?  Cause if you fuckin’ do, I’d be paying King his fuckin’ money.”  I let his hair go and pushed his head forward before adding, “You following now?”

Before he could reply, his friend cut in.  “Whatever he’s short, I can put in.”

I turned to face him.  “Someone with some fuckin’ brains.  And what about the money you owe?”

Nodding furiously, he agreed to pay up.  “I can cover it all.  Just leave our families out of this.”

I could smell his fear.  That got my blood pumping almost as much as taking to them with my fists.  “Your friend can’t come up with his money till tomorrow but I’m not waiting till then.  You good to cover him in the meantime?”

“Yes,” he said, “No problem.  I’ll go now and get it.  Should I meet you back here?”

I chuckled.  “Not fuckin’ likely, dickhead.  We’ll all go to get the money.”

Resignation crossed his face, and he nodded.

Griff ended his phone call, and joined back in on the conversation.  “We good to go, brother?” he asked me.

“We are,” I told him.

“Thank fuck, because we have more shit that’s just come up and you’re needed on that.”

My happy levels spiked at the thought.  Looked like my week was taking a turn for the better.  If I had to be in Brisbane, at least I would be having some fun while I was here.

*****

As I entered the bar of the clubhouse, I took in the familiar surroundings.  Furniture, paint, people; it was still the same as it had been the last time I’d been here about six months ago, and that wasn’t much different to two years ago when I walked away from it all for the peacefulness of the nomad life.  It was a Wednesday afternoon, and most of the boys were at work, so the bar was fairly empty.  Even the pool table in the back corner was empty.  I liked the quiet and the lack of people.