Malice's Soul

being, enjoy the rest of the day with the only family I knew—these men and women who I grew up around.
The sun fell behind the horizon, leaving a small glow as it went. I sat on the hill off to the side of the house. My grandpa called this the Willow hill. It’s because this is where I’d come to lay to look up at the sky. I could lay anywhere to do this, but I always chose this spot. Probably because from here, if I wanted to sit up and peer down at everything else around me, I could see down the lane leading up from the road.
Tonight that’s exactly what I’m doing rather than looking up to the sky. My mind is going in a million directions, but for some reason, I can’t take my eyes from the direction of the road.
I wish I could, but I can’t. My grandpa’s words ring in my ear. “Nothing wrong with getting caught up in a crush and if the ass has any sense at all, he’ll be on his way to get you right now.”
As these words continue to circle around in my head, lights turn down the lane, and the rumbling sound of pipes can be heard from where I’m sitting.
My heart starts to pound within my chest at the thought, but there’s no way. He wouldn’t come here. Avery probably had Hammer send some of his men to check on me. That’s all this is.
Then why can’t I get rid of the smallest feeling of hope that it’s Malice in the small group of bikes heading in the direction of the house?
From where I’m sitting, I can see my grandpa and his buddies, who’d been sitting around talking at the picnic table, stand. He looks at me, nods, and starts toward the front of the house at the same time the bikes pull up and shut off right next to my car.
With me being so far from the house, I can’t hear what they’re saying. I debate on whether or not to go down there, but fear of the possibility of facing Malice wins. I lie back on the grassy hill and groan, my hands splaying out on my stomach as I stare up at the sky.
What do I do now?
If he’s one of them who came, should I be jumping with elation or running for the woods?

Wesley Swann
The bikes come to a stop and I stand off to the side somewhat with my arms crossed over my chest. Mitchell and Samuel are standing with me. We knew they’d come here. Hammer, the president of the Devil’s Riot MC charter in South Carolina, called me around noon to inform me of this. We’d spoken and he filled me in on exactly what had happened over a month ago where my granddaughter’s safety had been put in jeopardy.
I hadn’t been pleased, but for my Willow’s sake, I’m keeping the peace. They’ve been looking out for my baby girl and I couldn’t ask for more. With them, I know she’s at least safe. Even if one of them knocked her up. She’s yet to tell me about it or who the father is. I don’t need her to tell me about it because I can see it in my girl’s face.
Willow is completely her father’s daughter. Nothing about her has that cunt who birthed her. She’s pure innocence and my son would have been proud of her. Shit, I know he would be. I wish he were here now, but I stepped in a long time ago after he’d been killed overseas, and I had to lay him to rest.
Her mother and stepfather thought they could pull some shit and they’d attempted to sell my beautiful girl to a sex slave ring.
Fuckers are lucky they didn’t meet the end of my gun. After they’d tried to sell her to pay off their debts, I offered to pay them the amount they wanted. I knew this is what they really wanted. I told them to give Willow to me, sign rights over, and never come near us again. Paid them, they signed, and two weeks later, they died sadly in a car wreck. This part my granddaughter doesn’t know.
I’d asked Mitchell to find a time to make them be gone for good. He did and now I don’t have to worry about them coming after my girl. Doesn’t mean I don’t have to worry about the sick fucks that wanted Willow in the first place.
For years we’ve been tracking them all down. Their organization is wide and shows just how corrupt our country really is. They might talk about uniting the country and bringing peace to all, but those fuckers are dividing us quicker than quicksand suckin’ a man down into its depths.
Inwardly I shake my head to clear it as the three men climb off the backs of their bikes. The one that steps forward, I know right away, has to be the one who hurt my baby girl.
“Where’s Willow?” he asks in greeting.
I give him a good once over and take in the grave look on his face. Behind the fury glowering in his eyes, I can sense his need for needing to set eyes on my granddaughter to reassure himself she’s okay.
“She’s on her hill right now,” I mutter, nodding in the direction she’s in. “You wanna tell me why you’re here?”
“Not particularly. You mind if I go see Willow before you give me the fuckin’ third degree?” he demands sarcastically. Gotta give him props for having the balls to speak to me this way. I might be a farmer now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t put this asshole in the ground. Still gotta respect his mind is on setting eyes on Willow first thing.
“You hurt my granddaughter any more than you already have, it’ll be the last time,” I threaten, earning a look of confusion from him. “And before I allow you