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nothing's better than revenge
*Reply to /1336652
Rage ran through his veins, revenge seeped out his pores.
Stone Walsh was a man of few words, but many emotions. At his core, he was evil; it ran through his bloodline - father spent thirty years behind bars for murdering his best friend, sat in a jail cell until the reaper crept in and took his breath away. His mother a junkie, no maternal instinct to love or protect her kids, instead selling them to men and women around the block for a quick f***. He put a bullet in her head when he was twenty-two. For the most part, it was just him and Kirby - two peas of the same f***ed up pod. His little sister was the only real definition of love he had known.
Until Lennon.
Stone never believed in love. Had a rotation of women in and out of his life, only caring enough to get his d*ck sucked in the back lounge of the DRMC clubhouse. Thought Lennon would’ve been one of them too, but her blue eyes pierced a hole through his dead heart and breathed life into his soul, and suddenly, everything was about her.
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Panic ensues as her screams echo through the speaker of the phone, a muffled voice on the other end. Male - that much he’s sure of. Mexican, maybe. The accent is hard to make out - the sound of his own heart racing drowning out the words of the male. He can hear her screams fade as a door slams and a car drives off.
A simple trip to the grocery store turned into the worst day of his life. Of their life.
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He’s not one to ask for help, not one to rely on others to solve his problems. But Stone knew without help of the club, Lennon would be gone forever. He needed to find her - needed to know she’d be safe. He almost crashes his bike on the way back to the clubhouse, but doesn’t care enough to stop, only one destination in mind. He finds Declan in the back room, and suddenly he’s spewing word vomit, barely allowing the elder a word in. “They took her. They took Lennon,” was all he managed to say coherently. Desperation covered his features.
They decide to cover their bases, figure out who could’ve taken her and what their motive would be.
Drugs. It had to be drugs.
Stone handled the clubs deals, escorting the finely milled powder across town lines - he met with dozens of people day in and day out, passing dime bags and money between fingertips like he’d done it his entire life. It had to be drugs.
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He notices the carnage before he notices Declan, a sick twinge of satisfaction coursing through his veins. Though it was a death undeserved, it served a message. Served a purpose.
“Didn’t want ta waste the bullets, no big deal.*”
The statement causes Stone to laugh, smirk pulling at his lips as he stares at the lifeless body before him, eyes shifting to the male still tied up in the chair. “I wish you would’ve told me you were gonna rip the fingernails off, you know that’s my favorite part.”
In his own way, Stone was just as sadistic as DC. Enjoyed making people hurt. Maybe it was his deep rooted mommy issues, or maybe it was the inner psycho living in his head, he always loved watching people squirm. Loved hearing them beg for their life.
“Ya ever try acting?” He asks DC. “I hear Hollywood’s hiring.”
Green hues shift to the bodies again, hand running up to his hair. “We got a lead. Someone in Rapacity saw Lennon four hours ago at a gas station. She was thrown back in a black van. License plate starts with MV56.” He takes one last look around the room, before pulling out his phone. “I’ll tell the prospects to come clean this up. Maybe dump the body in Bingecove.”
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