The sun was just beginning to break the horizon as Liam walked out of the warehouse that Denise had been held in. In his nostrils, he could still smell the burning flesh that had been Richard Joyce. When a member decided not to get rid of his ink after leaving the club, the club did it for him. This particular time, Liam had taken great pleasure in cutting the ink up into sections and then burning it off. He would be lying if he didn't admit that it had felt good and that's what worried him.
For the first time in his life, Liam felt bad about what he had done in the name of his club. He felt as if he wasn't worthy enough to go home and sleep with the woman who warmed up the other side of his bed. He worried that she would look at him differently. Hell, he knew after this he would look at
