I pulled my gun out and aimed it at his forehead. His eyes widened and I took in the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. “You lead the way, but the minute you don’t do as I say, I’ll shoot. And it won’t be to kill to start with. We clear?”

He tripped over his words to get them out fast. “Yes, I get it, Kick, but there’s no need to - ”

I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “There’s always a need, Bruno. With dickheads like you, anyway. Now shut the fuck up and start fuckin’ walking.”

He did as I said, and I followed closely behind as he led me to his bedroom. The house was a fucking mess with crap strewn all over the floors. His bedroom was no different. As he began rummaging through his drawers, the only sounds that could be heard in the house were the ticking of his bedside clock and his breaths that were coming hard and fast now.

I moved to stand behind him and pressed the gun into his back. “I hope to fuck you’re not looking for a gun,” I said, not really expecting him to be that smart, but you just never fucking knew.

He shook his head. “No, the money is in here somewhere. I’ve just got to find which socks I hid it in.”

“You hid your money in your fuckin’ socks?”

He turned his head to glare at me. “Well, where the hell else would I hide it, smartass?”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I bellowed. Assholes like him annoyed the absolute fuck out of me. First, he was too stupid to keep his shit straight, then he had the balls to think he could get out of dealing with the consequences, and to top it off, he wanted to call me fucking names? Fuck that shit.

The look of recognition that crossed his face was priceless. That moment when your target realises just how much shit they’re actually in never failed to pump excitement through my veins. “Shit, sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it.”

I raised my gun and shot at the roof. What I really wanted to do was shoot him, but I needed to get that money first so the roof was the next best thing to hurry him along. Pointing the gun back at him, I roared, “Hurry the fuck up. I don’t have all day.”

Sweat had started to take over his face and his shirt stuck to the sweat on his body. He began rummaging faster until, eventually, he located the cash. Dragging it out of his sock faster than a virgin ejaculated, he shoved it at me. “Take it!”

“Calm the fuck down,” I suggested as I took the wads of twenties and tens from him. “And let’s move this to your kitchen table so I can count it.” He owed us six grand and I wanted to make sure it was all here before I took care of him.

Once he’d given it all to me, he began walking to the kitchen. I indicated for him to sit at the table and then I sat opposite him and started counting. He surprised the hell out of me by managing to keep his mouth shut while I did this. Bruno usually babbled shit the whole time when I came to collect cash.

I counted slowly. The bastard had come out in me today and I enjoyed feeling his fear while he waited for me to finish.

He was fifty bucks short.

I glared at him before pointing my gun at his foot and shooting.

He screamed out in pain as blood started going everywhere. Wild eyes landed on mine and he yelled out, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“You’re short,” I said calmly, leaning back into my chair and extending my leg out to stretch it.

“Well, you should have just said so. I’ve got more!” His face had contorted in pain and he gripped his leg tightly. Sweat now poured down his face and his clothes were a wet, sweaty mess.

“I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ say so, Bruno. You should know by now that when I come to collect my money I want all of it. What I don’t want is to be fucked around.”

“It’s hardly fucking you around, asshole,” he muttered. “How was I to know that sock was fifty bucks short?”

I shot his other foot and watched him writhe in pain. “Where the fuck is the rest of your money stashed? And don’t screw me around anymore,” I demanded.

He struggled to get the words out. Jerking his chin at the kitchen pantry, he stuttered, “In there, top shelf in the brown container at the back.”

Pushing my chair back, I raised my brows and said, “Funny how bullets encourage honesty, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you,” he spat out, clearly not giving a shit if he pissed me off anymore.

I ignored him and reached up into the cupboard in search of the brown container. My eyes widened in surprise when I opened it. I whistled and murmured, “Fuck me, Bruno. You’ve been holding out on me.”

There had to be twenty grand in here.

“Just take fifty and leave me the fuck alone.”

My gaze flicked to him. Was he deluded? “You really think I’m gonna walk out of here today without this cash?”

His fight wasn’t gone. “I swear to fucking God, Kick, if you take my money I will hunt you down for it.”

I chuckled and cocked my head to the side, giving him a questioning look. “You really think you’ll be alive to hunt me down?”

Finally, he realised the depth of shit he was in today. He pushed his chair back and attempted to stand. I watched as he collapsed onto the floor, his body twisting in pain as he did so.

I walked to him and looked down over him. “You’ve been screwing our club around for years now, motherfucker, and my president is finally done with you. And besides, you’re a junkie criminal who preys on the fuckin’ elderly and disabled so I’d be ridding the world of a scumbag we can do without.”