Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4)

by Jeanne St. James

  “Load him in the van.”

  Everyone around him had stopped dead at that order, then a sudden flurry of activity whirled around him. While beating the life out of Warren had occurred in slow-motion, everything now moved at hyper-speed.

  His cousin took over, barking out commands. Deacon was relieved because he was mentally and physically spent.

  Whip and Cage were to stay at the garage and clean up the mess.

  The bat would come with Shade and Deacon to be disposed of.

  Rook dug in Warren’s blood-soaked pockets, searching for keys. He was told to find the fucker’s vehicle and do what he needed to do with it. The ex-con had experience dismantling vehicles, which was one reason he might’ve ended up in the joint a few times.

  Deacon couldn’t give a fuck about any of that. Rook was his brother who was standing by his side doing what needed to be done.

  Just like the rest of them.

  When Deacon heard the side door to the van slam shut, it snapped him out of his fog. “You cuff him again?”

  Judge grunted out a “Yeah.”

  Deacon considered the current situation and how to handle the one to come. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his truck fob. He tossed it to Whip, who still stood guard at the door. “I’m ridin’ in the van with Shade. Have the women take my truck back to the farm and tell them to wait in my apartment. I’ll have someone drop me off when we’re done.”

  When Warren was done.

  When this whole clusterfuck was over.

  “Make sure they go to the farm,” was the last thing he said as he climbed onto the passenger seat. He glanced at Judge. “You comin’?”

  “Fuck yeah,” his cousin answered. “Takin’ my sled. Let me go in first and see where Cassie is, yeah?”

  Deacon nodded. “Yeah.” Cassie shouldn’t be a witness to Deacon’s plans.

  Judge headed out the now wide-open gate and disappeared around the front of the garage. Not a minute later, Deacon could hear the rumble of his cousin’s sled, then the loud acceleration as he sped away.

  Tioga Pet Crematorium was only a couple blocks west. Judge only needed a few minutes head start.

  After those few minutes, Deacon told Shade to go. He took a last look at his loyal as fuck bothers still standing in the garage yard when Shade shifted the full-sized Chevy van into Drive and followed the same path Judge took.

  They both ignored a low groan from the back.

  Neither Shade nor Deacon spoke a word on the short trip to the club’s newest business. Shade automatically pulled around back to where customer’s pets were unloaded.

  An area hidden from the public. For good reason.

  Shade pulled the van as close as he could to the back door where Easy already waited with a large rolling cart and a folded blue tarp.

  Deacon rolled down the window for some air and sat in the passenger seat, staring sightlessly out the windshield as Judge, Easy and Shade loaded a restrained Warren onto the cart.

  He heard another low groan before the crackle of the plastic tarp as they used it to cover the man.

  Deacon still sat there, his mind blank, his body weary, as the van doors slammed and he listened to the squeak from one of the cart’s wheels as they rolled Warren inside.

  A few seconds later, his cousin stood at the van door, staring at him through the open window. “You good?”

  No, he wasn’t good. But he would be once this was over.

  “Want me to take over?”

  No, this was for him to do. To settle the score. To deliver the punishment. To protect the women’s futures.

  “First time’s the hardest,” Judge grumbled under his breath.

  Coming from his cousin, that comment caught Deacon off guard.

  Did Judge know how many times it took until it got easy?

  He’d always thought they’d been close. Like real brothers. But maybe Judge had kept secrets from him.

  Maybe there were things the man never shared.

  “Can’t wait any longer, Deke. Sent Cassie on an errand, but she was suspicious and dug in her heels. Not sure how long she’ll be gone. Don’t want her seein’ any of this shit.” His lips became a flat line. “You get why?”

  “Yeah.”

  Just like he didn’t want Reese to see it.

  To see what they were capable of when pushed.

  The women might suspect, but they’d never really know unless they saw it with their own eyes. They’d pretend they’d want to know the truth, but deep down they wouldn’t.

  Deacon didn’t want Reese looking at him any different, wondering what else he was capable of.

  No, it was better they not know the truth.

  Deacon got out of the van and followed Judge through the back door, making sure it was secured and locked.

  Thank fuck he, as club treasurer, had the foresight to bring the purchase of this business to the table months ago. Deacon figured the crematorium was a good buy for two solid reasons. The first, the business finances were in the black, making it not only a good investment but a steady stream of scratch into the club account. And the second?

  For the reason they would use it today.

  He never expected to be the first one to use it for that purpose.

  Maybe it was fate.

  Whatever it was, this would be the spot where Warren took his last breath.

  Easy and Shade stood near the incinerator big enough to cremate large animals. Hogs, cows and even small horses.

  They hadn’t used it once since taking over operations from the local vet. Their normal clientele were small animals like dogs and cats. They had three smaller furnaces for those.

  But this one... This furnace was the one that had caught his attention when he did a walk-through with the vet. Deacon had seen its potential.

  Just like he saw it now.

  To obliterate garbage like Warren. A fucking menace to women. Hell, to society in general.

  Shade moved to the electronic control panel, which beeped as he pushed a few buttons. Both he and Easy had been trained by the vet himself on the daily operations and use of equipment.

  “Open it.”

  Shade unlatched the incinerator door and opened it wide, then pulled on a heavy-duty tray that was more of a metal grate set on rollers. A grate ashes would fall through and funnel into a smaller tray below.

  The metallic sound of the large tray rolling out made his blood go cold.

  He could still deliver Warren to Bianchi. It wasn’t too late.

  The interior of the furnace faded away and his vision became clouded by Reilly and Reese’s injuries. The way their faces were battered and bruised.

  A strong woman like Reese crying in his arms.

  Warren’s threat to find Reilly once he was released from prison.

  Deacon’s heart thumped heavily.

  He ripped the blue tarp off Warren and said to no one in particular, “Help me load up this piece of shit.”

  “Deke, he’s still breathin’,” Judge warned quietly.

  “Not for long.”

  “Want me to slice his fuckin’ throat first?” Shade asked softly.

  Deacon lifted his gaze from Warren, who was barely conscious, to Shade. “You askin’ me or our Sergeant at Arms?” Because, in truth, it would be Judge’s decision.

  “You,” Shade answered without even a hesitation.

  “Respect, brother, but fuck no. I hope he’s conscious enough to feel the fiery depths of hell.”

  Shade’s expression didn’t change. It remained unreadable, which should scare the fuck out of them all.

  Thank fuck the man was on their side. No one knew what he was capable of.

  No one wanted to find out, either.

  Easy and Shade took Warren’s ankles. Judge and Deacon grabbed his shoulders and they lifted the dead weight onto the tray. His cousin tossed the bat next to Warren.

  With a strange sense of peace, Deacon watched Shade slide the steel tray back into place inside the inci
nerator, close the door and latch it tight.

  Shade pushed another button and they heard the door lock.

  This was it.

  The furnace was locked and loaded.

  “You hear somethin’?” Easy whispered.

  Deacon swore everyone held their breath to listen.

  “What is this?” came the muffled shout from inside. “Let me out!”

  “Wanna push the button?” Shade asked, not a bit concerned that Warren was now conscious.

  “Deke,” Judge murmured, concern etched in his face. It wasn’t concern for Warren, but for Deacon.

  Deacon unstuck himself and began to move forward, but the sound of running feet coming from behind them made him hesitate.

  “Fuck that motherfucker!” Reilly yelled as she barreled her way past Deacon, knocking him to the side. She ran up to the control panel and slammed her palm on the big red start button.

  The loud whoosh of the gas burners firing froze everyone in place. Including Reese, who had followed Reilly into the furnace room.

  She stood as still as a statue with a hand covering her mouth and her eyes squeezed shut.

  They faintly heard a single scream and then nothing.

  Strangely, that was the moment he noticed Reese’s feet were bare and filthy. Her hair now a loose mess around her shoulders, like she’d been tearing her fingers through it. Her mascara smeared. Her lipstick chewed off her bottom lip.

  The woman who held tightly onto control had unraveled.

  Her green eyes opened slowly and met his. He was afraid to read what was in them. He preferred not to know.

  “Deke,” her strangled whisper sounded deafening to his ears, “he was still alive.”

  He said the only thought that came to his mind. “You wanted him dead.”

  “I—” Her face turned green and she rushed to the nearest garbage can and spilled the contents of her stomach.

  He closed his eyes and listened to her retch, his fingers curling tightly against his thighs.

  Fuck. He didn’t mean to put that on her. This had been his decision. No one else’s.

  Once she was done, he opened them and turned back to stare at the furnace, his nostrils flaring. “Get them out of here.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Judge jerk up his chin at someone Deacon couldn’t see. Not while his gaze was locked on the furnace.

  “They got away from me.” Whip sounded worried. “Gonna get them back to your place and make sure they stay there.”

  Deacon nodded without looking at him. Unfortunately, Whip learned how strong-willed those two women were. Even so, that was no excuse for failing to do what he’d been told.

  Several sets of footsteps receded behind him.

  Once gone, only the eerie sound of the gas burners surrounded who remained.

  Reese had simply left without an argument.

  That could mean a few things. None of them good for Deacon.

  “How long does it take?” he asked, his voice flat.

  “Programmed it for a two-hundred-pound animal, so a few hours. It’ll shut off on its own.”

  “You know what to do with the ashes,” Judge said to Shade.

  “Yeah, brother, I’ll handle it.”

  Judge stepped in front of Deacon, blocking his locked view on the furnace. “Let’s go. I need a fuckin’ drink and you need about fifty, brother.”

  Brother.

  That was what they were. Cousins by blood, brothers by choice.

  “Also need a new set of cuffs.”

  “What just went down cost you more than a set of cuffs.”

  Deacon was afraid of that.

  Reese studied her sister calmly sipping on a beer she’d pulled from Deacon’s fridge.

  As if what just happened hadn’t.

  As if Reilly hadn’t just killed a man. Burned him alive.

  Billy deserved to suffer, but even so...

  It could have been Reese who killed him instead of her sister, if Deacon had handed over his gun when she’d demanded it. But then if he had, Billy wouldn’t have suffered. His death would’ve been quick and easy.

  Easy for Billy.

  Not so easy for Reese.

  It shouldn’t be so easy for Reilly.

  If it bothered her sister, Reese couldn’t tell. Maybe the reality hadn’t hit her yet. It could come later.

  “We need to pack our stuff and go.”

  Reilly was safe now. They could leave and head back to Mansfield without worry. Put the whole situation with Billy behind them.

  They could borrow Deacon’s truck. Someone could come fetch it later.

  Her sister took another sip of beer, then placed the bottle on the counter. She lifted her green eyes—without one tear in them—to Reese.

  What Reilly had done hadn’t upset her sister. Surprisingly, it had strengthened her. Made her seem more mature. That couldn’t be right.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “What?” Reese must have misheard.

  “I like it here.”

  No.

  No, no, no. “You can’t stay here.”

  “Why not?”

  “This isn’t your home.”

  “And where is my home, Reese? With you? Back in Philly?”

  Yes! Any place but here. She tried another tactic. “You can’t stay in Deacon’s apartment.” She’d be homeless in Manning Grove.

  “Then I’ll find my own place. I have a job. Dutch is willing to keep me on for now since he said I’m doing a fucktastic job.”

  A burn started deep in Reese’s gut and began to rise. She couldn’t just watch her sister throw away her future. “You want to work in an auto repair shop? You have a damn college degree, Reilly. One I paid for. Not so you can be a fucking secretary.”

  While there was nothing wrong with being a secretary, she wanted more for her sister. So much more. She didn’t need a bachelor’s degree to answer phones, schedule appointments and shuffle papers.

  Reilly moved around the counter to where Reese stood in the center of the apartment’s living area. “My degree is in business management, if you’ve forgotten. I’ll be helping out his business. And maybe even with some of the other club businesses, if they’ll let me.”

  A business that had done fine for decades without her. But Reese kept that to herself.

  That burn now seared her throat. She wouldn’t throw up. She couldn’t. Nothing remained in her stomach.

  She was completely empty.

  Reese wanted to argue with her, force Reilly to see reality. But she knew her sister. She had raised her. Helped make her who she was. She knew if she tried to convince Reilly to leave, her sister would dig in her heels.

  The same as Reese would do when pushed.

  “Not everyone wants to be you, Reese. Not everyone wants to be married to their job. And only live for success. News flash: money isn’t everything.”

  Where was that coming from? Had Reilly forgotten the struggles they had lived? How hard Reese worked to make sure they ate, had clothes, got an education? “Without it, you have nothing.”

  Sadness colored Reilly’s face. “Sister, you are so damn smart but right now, you are very wrong. You can have a lot of things and not have money.” She shrugged. “Family.”

  “I’m your family,” Reese whispered. Not this club. Desperation clawed up her throat.

  “You’ve been taking care of me my whole life, sis. Since I was born. Your whole life. That was unfair to you and I’m sorry you were forced to do that. I’m sorry our father decided a drunk wife and two daughters was an unwanted burden. I’m sorry our mother gave up on life and left it to you to take care of me. But Reese...” She inhaled loudly. “Let me go. Let me do this. Let me find my own path like you did. Of course I’ll make mistakes. Hopefully, not one as bad as Billy. But I need to make them. That bubble you want me to live in? I’m bursting it.”

  “Reilly, just come back with me and we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  Reilly shook her head
. “I’m staying and I’ll figure it out. Being in Manning Grove, I’ll be closer to you than when I was living outside of Philly. I know you love me and want what’s best for me. I also want what’s best for you, too. Working yourself into an early grave and coming home to an empty house night after night? That’s not what’s best for you.”

  “I work hard to—”

  Reilly cut her off. “Did you tell him about Minnie?”

  Reese’s heart skipped a beat.

  Minnie.

  Reilly’s unexpected question deflated her drive to argue. To get her sister to realize staying here, with this club, in Manning Grove, wasn’t what was best for her.

  Her sister had always called their mother Minnie—never Mom—because it was a shortened version of the title Reese gave her: Minimum Mom. The woman had done the very minimum to keep her daughters alive. And when they were older, not even that.

  “I told him some, but not all of it. And I kept my name for her to myself, as you should.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s no one’s business.” No one needed to know where they came from and how they got to where they were. No one needed to judge them for something out of their control.

  “Anyone hearing it would simply think Minnie was her first name. Nothing more.”

  “Maybe. But that time in our life is over. No point revisiting or reliving it.”

  “You’re right,” Reilly agreed. “We both have a future to think about.”

  There it was. Bringing up their mother wasn’t off topic. Reilly was trying to make a point. “You have a future to think about. Mine is already in motion, Reilly. I worked hard to get where I am and I’m not giving it up.”

  “No one said you had to give up anything, sis. But your future isn’t set in stone. You’re allowed to let it be fluid, flexible. Let people in. Grow your tribe. Not every man is like Billy or Allen. Or even our father.” She sighed and grabbed both of Reese’s hands, clasping them tightly to her chest. “Stop denying yourself. That detour Deacon took you on during the club run? You can also do that in life, you know. I know you have a set path but sometimes a detour is necessary.”

  Reese pulled her sister into a tight hug and murmured, “When did you get to be so wise?”

  “I learned from my very wise, but stubborn, sister,” Reilly whispered. “The one I’ve looked up to my whole life. She’s shown me what to strive for. But she’s also shown me what I don’t want. I don’t want to be so caught up in my own success I can’t see anything beyond it.”