Smiling cockily, I flicked the lighter on as the strong smell of gasoline wafted up my nose. Tonight was just going to be the start of my plans. I was going to get back what was rightfully mine. And I was going to let him know it.
This was war. This was just the start.
I dropped the black encased lighter and hopped onto my motorcycle and let the pueblo go up in soon to be ashes.
Next stop Bolivia.
YOU ARE READING
Lobo
Teen FictionFeared by enemies. Respected and feared by the people. Loved, respected and feared by family. Decisions are seen in black and white, either you regret your choice or you don't. You hardly ever see that blurred line separating the good and the bad. B...
