Grit: A short story

Another three word prompt, the three words being:
1. throat
2. road
3. Attack
**As a side note, I’ve completed my word count goal on Camp NaNoWriMo! YAYS! However, I will continue to write daily and post at least two short stories a night. I also have dug through some of my old Role Play and will post some of them up for you all in story format. Coolness?
On with the story…

Sand. Sand everywhere. It was up his nose, in his throat, scratching at his eyes. He looked out at the road before him. Such a desolate wasteland, or so it would seem. He had to be sure there were no prying eyes and no possible way these bodies would be found, even if on accident.
The desert seemed the perfect place.
It’s not like he ever intended this to happen. It wasn’t his fault in the least. He was the victim here. The attack against him left him with no choice but to defend himself and what was rightfully his.
However, the attack, and the timing of it, sent him into a blind rage. He really had no intent of killing the three men. He only wanted to send them back to their boss with a clear understanding that such annoyances wouldn’t be tolerated.
He was so coked out of his mind though. He lost control. He put his badge away and let the monster out. He beat the men mercilessly, and it would really look bad to have these sorts of men turning up dead in a police officer’s home.
No one on the force knew what he was doing, and he had to ensure it stayed that way. He had been preparing for retirement. He turned a blind eye to things and he got kickbacks. His retirement from the force was nothing compared to what he had already saved.
Yeah, so it was wrong.
No one was perfect.
He surveyed the area one last time before moving around to the back of his car, popping the trunk.
Yeah, no one would find the bodies way out here.
Desert lands and dirty cops.

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