by J. M. Walker
“What do you mean?”
“I mean …” Greyson rubbed the back of his neck which I had come to learn over the years that he did whenever he was nervous. “I don’t think he has anything to do with this.”
“Fuck me.” I needed out. I had to find Zillah. I had to find Catch. They needed to come home. I needed them home. I couldn’t lose them. I couldn’t.
“Tray.”
“Shit. I—” Everything crashed down on me all at once. The weight of the pain we had been dealing with for the past year, crushed me.
“Hey.” Greyson moved to the spot on the bed beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “We’ll find them. I’ll do everything in my fucking power to make sure they come home. And I won’t give up until these fuckers are six feet beneath the ground we walk on.”
“I can’t lose her.” My body shook. “I only just found her, Greyson.”
“I know, brother.”
A soft knock sounded on the door before it slowly opened. “Can I come in?” Eve peeked her head into the room.
“Of course,” I told her.
She came toward us, holding Jaron in her arms with Cyrus at her side.
“Hey, little man.” I patted the spot beside me.
He sat on the edge of the bed but kept his distance.
“Your dad was a good man, Cyrus.” I sat up further, breathing through the pain, and gripped his arm in a gentle, but firm, hold. “He died with honor.”
Cyrus’ dark eyes met mine. They were red rimmed but dark. So damn dark, they promised years of therapy and pain. “I have no parents. I have no brother. I’m all alone.”
“No,” I snapped. “We will find your brother. You are not alone. You have us. We are your family.”
Cyrus looked away, folding his hands in his lap. “I’m going to kill them. Every single one of them. Maybe not now.” He met my stare. “But, eventually, I will.”
He was much too young for all the hate rolling inside of him, but I got it. We all got it.
“I know.” There was no point in arguing with him. The twins were going to follow in their father’s footsteps whether we tried to stop them or not. It was like having a cop for a father or having the men in your life come from a military background. The kids were bound to follow.
“We’ll find your brother,” Greyson said.
“And we’ll give your father a proper burial,” Eve added, her voice thick.
Cyrus nodded. “When you kill whoever shot him, I want to know.”
“We can’t do that.” I shook my head. “Your dad wouldn’t want that.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Cyrus jumped from the bed. “You owe me this much.”
“Okay.” Greyson stood and walked around the bed toward him. “We’ll avenge him, Cyrus. We’ll avenge everyone.”
Cyrus nodded, looking between all of us. “I need my brother back. I can’t do this without him.”
“We’ll find him.” Not that I could do much from my current position, but I would crawl on my fucking stomach to bring them home.
“Did you want to go grab some food with Jaron and me?” Eve asked Cyrus.
He opened his mouth to argue, no doubt, but let out a sigh instead. “Sure,” he murmured. He was just like the rest of us and could never say no to a pretty lady.
Once they left the room, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
“Where exactly do you think you’re fucking going?”
Ignoring Greyson, I stood on shaky legs. “I’m getting my girl back. I’m getting Catch and Sammy back. And I’m going to put a bullet through whichever fucker started this shit.”
“You just had surgery, Tray.”
“Do I look like I fucking care?” I yelled, ripping the IV out of the back of my hand.
“Tray. Fuck.” Greyson stood in front of me. “You think you can get out of here without anyone noticing?”
“Yes, I do, actually, because you are going to help me. And then I’m going to drive over to Shadow’s club and burn the fucking city down until I find them.” I wasn’t making any sense. I knew that. But I needed them back. I needed Zillah back in my arms. I had surgery. I was alive. That’s all that mattered. Fuck recovery. That could wait until I had her safe beside me. Until then, I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop at fucking all.
KEEPING MY EYES closed so I wouldn’t have to see the horror that laid before me, I breathed through the bile that wanted to escape my mouth. Why? Why me? What the hell did Ripper want? What could he possibly get out of this? He was my dad’s club brother. Someone who I considered family. I had known him my whole life and now he wanted me as more? This didn’t make sense. Not at all.
My eyes slowly opened, landing on the aftermath before me. Bodies littered the floor. Blood sprayed the walls and ground beneath me. I didn’t know who they were. I couldn’t even tell if they were male or female but what I could see was that they were wearing leather cuts. Even though I recognized those cuts, I refused to believe they belonged to my dad and brother or anyone else in the crew.
Pushing to my feet, I shuffled over to two of the bodies that sparked of familiarity. I needed to be brave. I needed to know who they were. I also needed to see if they had anything on them that I could use as a weapon.
Kneeling in front of the first body, I patted it down. My stomach churned. I knew. I just knew who it was. Lifting the flap of the jacket, I reached into the inner pocket and pulled out the picture. A sob escaped me, my eyes blurring. “Daddy.”
Using the end of my shirt, I wiped the blood off of his face until his features stared up at me. My dad laid there. He didn’t move. He didn’t jump up and tell me he was only kidding and that he wasn’t actually dead.
I pushed him, slamming my fists against his chest and cried. My body wracked with sobs. The last conversation I had with him was him warning me. He knew. He had to have known. He was telling me to get out, but I didn’t listen until it was too late.
“Oh, Daddy.” I cupped his face and placed a soft peck on his forehead. Remembering the photo in my hand, my breath hitched. It was a picture of me when I was a little girl. I was on his shoulders, both of us with big smiles on our faces. But now that would never happen again.
Suddenly, the door swung open revealing Ripper. He smirked, closing it behind him and leaned against the wall opposite me. “I see you found my present.”
“What the hell do you want?” I asked, my voice coming out more like a growl.
“You, Zillah. By my side. At my feet. Tied to my fucking bed.” His eyes darkened. “I don’t give a shit how. I will have you. Whether you like it or not. Defy me and the boy and Catch die.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that they were still alive. “Why? If you’re trying to run shit, why haven’t you killed them yet?”
“Because I need them as leverage.” Ripper shrugged. “I’m also trying to think of a fancy way to take them out.”
I shivered, swallowing the bile that had risen to my throat. “Why did you have to kill him?” I didn’t know who the second body was but every sick and twisted thing inside of me said that it was Kian lying before me.
“They were getting in the way. I warned your father.” Ripper started pacing back and forth. “I told him this would happen. I wanted to partner up with him. Hell’s Harlem have been that way for years. Trying to make a better name for themselves and shit. Fucking please. Taking that kid was just an added bonus.” He laughed. “My men were smart with that shit. I never even thought of it myself.”
“You weren’t satisfied just being a member?” I screamed. “You had to kill him too. You know you were next in line to be VP. Once Kian became president. You know that. And Hell’s Harlem have nothing to do with this. Sammy has nothing to do with this.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be president now.” Ripper sneered. “Won’t I?”
I glanced at the other body.
“Take a guess who that is. I’ll give you one chance.”
My eyes burned, a
lump forming in my throat. I lost my family. I had no one. These men didn’t actually care about me. They only stayed away because of my dad and brother. And now I was fair game. A slice of fear shivered down my spine.
Tray, please come for me. God, I hoped he was okay. And Catch. He probably hated me even more now.
“Tell me who that is, Zillah.” Ripper’s deep voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I crawled over to the other body, placing a hand on the still form. It shifted beneath me, but it was so sudden, I wasn’t sure if I felt it or if I was dreaming. Either way, I wasn’t about to let Ripper know that this body could very well still be alive.
“Say it, Zillah,” Ripper demanded. “Tell me who it is.”
I wiped some of the blood off the still form’s face, my heart jumping to my throat. “Kian,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry. Who is it?”
“Kian,” I said louder that time.
“Yes, Zillah,” Ripper purred in my ear. “It’s your brother.” He opened his vest, revealing a knife sticking out of his side. “It seems this was left for you.” He grabbed my hand, placing it on the butt of the knife.
My eyes widened. “No.” I struggled against him, trying so damn hard to pull my hand away but Ripper was too strong for me.
“You see, Zillah.” Ripper squeezed my hand so hard, the bones beneath the skin rubbed together.
I whimpered.
“I happen to know your brother is still alive but how do you think he would feel if it was you who killed him?” Together, we pushed the blade deeper into Kian’s side.
He grunted, his eyes popping open.
A sob escaped me. “Please stop.”
“No.” Ripper moved behind me, holding my hand on the knife with both of his. “I want to fucking break you. I want you so mentally gone that you’re a shell. Then it’ll be my job to fill that emptiness.”
“Please stop. Let him go. I’ll go with you. I’ll do anything.” I just wanted this to end.
“Oh, you’re right. You will do anything but first we have to get rid of everyone who could possibly get in the way.” Ripper pushed my hands, forcing me to shove the knife deeper into Kian. “Together, we’ll kill your brother and then Catch. We’ll leave the boy for last. Or he’s young enough, we could train him. I could train him to be fucking lethal.” Ripper kissed the side of my head. “How does that sound?”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Please stop.”
Blood spurted from my brother’s lips, his skin becoming ashen and gray. His dark eyes met mine.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry. God, forgive me. Please forgive me.”
“Do it, Zillah,” Ripper coaxed. “Come on, baby girl. You got this. Kill him.”
Bile rose to my throat, my heart racing. “Say that again.”
“What?” Ripper’s hot breath fanned over my head.
Kian stared up at me, a knowing glance in his dark eyes.
“Say it again,” I repeated, firmer that time.
“Kill him.” Ripper circled his arm around my middle, holding me back against him.
Taking a deep breath, I forgot everything and let my rage take hold. Blood pumped through my veins. In a quick move, I slammed my head back against Ripper’s face.
He shouted.
I pulled the knife from Kian and shoved it into the side of Ripper’s neck.
“Fuck.” His eyes were wide as he fell onto his side.
I yanked the knife free and stabbed him again. Blood splattered on me, all around me but I didn’t care. The metallic liquid coated my tongue, but it only gave me the drive to keep going.
I jumped onto Ripper’s chest and shoved the knife back into his neck. Pulling it out of him, the knife slipped, cutting my palm but the slice of pain only made me go on. I slammed it back into his neck.
With him dying beneath me, I leaned down. “You forgot who raised me. Who taught me. My father. My brother. You. You’re a stupid man if you think I’m going to submit to you just because you tell me to.”
“Zillah.” He coughed, blood coating his lips. “How …”
“I was trained by the best.” I kissed his cheek. “I loved you like an uncle, Ripper.”
A large shadow loomed over us.
Ripper’s eyes widened, landing on the person now standing behind me. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“I probably should be,” my dad said, his voice rough. “Zillah?”
I waited.
“Finish him.”
WASHING MY HANDS under the warm water, I thought over what happened recently. Confessing my love for Tray, which then turned into a bloodbath. I just hoped he understood everything I had to tell him. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I understood myself.
“I need your help.”
“I’m on my way to you,” I said, jumping into the large SUV. I knew Tray would stop me if he had the strength. I wondered if he knew that I stole his keys. I had just left their clubhouse so I knew I had to make this conversation quick, in case anyone came outside.
“Zillah, it’s going to turn into a fucking war if we don’t end this now.”
I stopped suddenly, gripping the phone tight in my hand, not liking the sound of my father’s voice. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Ripper. I found out some shit and we need to stop him.”
I laughed. “You’re just being paranoid.”
“No, Zee. Not this time. This isn’t me being protective of you. This is me as your father, telling you to leave. Get out of there but don’t come here. Please don’t come here.”
But I didn’t believe him and still drove to him instead, with Catch at my side.
“You’ll be grabbed. But I need you to act. Act like your life depends on it because, Zillah, it does. Fuck me it does.”
I didn’t understand what he had meant by that until Catch and I showed up at the clubhouse. Although, most of it wasn’t acting.
“Whatever you see, I need you to be strong.”
And I saw. I saw a fucking lot.
A hard knock on the door made me jump.
Shutting off the water, I dried my hands and opened the door.
Greyson stared down at me. The rest of his crew looked my way. The strip club had been closed to the public. But now I wished I could leave just the same.
“Tell me one thing,” Greyson demanded, his stance stiff. “Did you know? Did you know about any of this shit?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t at all.”
“She didn’t.”
Both of us turned to my father who sat in a booth, looking like the king of the motherfucking world. A fresh bandage was on his cheek. Kian sat beside him. He had been operated on. Much to my surprise, my dad had a whole system set up in this place. A room that was stocked full of hospital equipment for times like these. They could do surgeries there and everything. It saved them from having to go to the hospital itself, and it also stopped the police from getting involved. There were so many things I didn’t know and probably never would. And I was fine with that.
“Ripper had been acting off for the past several months,” my dad explained. “I didn’t know what was going on, so I had my mole check him out.”
River shifted in his seat beside my dad.
My eyes widened. “You?”
He shrugged, giving me wink, but he never answered my question.
“There are some things you don’t know, Zillah. That none of you do or will. I needed to keep my guys safe, just like you do, Greyson.” My dad crossed his arms under his chest.
“You called me. I’m here. But now I need answers. How did you find out this shit was going to happen?” Greyson asked, pulling up a chair, spun it around, and sat on it backwards. “I lost men because of this. Men who have been at my side since I became president. I have another one in the hospital.” He met my gaze that time. “He’s fine.”
I blew out a slow breath, my knees knocking.
Catch grabbed my arm, holding me steady.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I know.” He cupped my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
He was fine. Sammy was fine. I had found out that they weren’t thrown into a cooler, but a room used for storage. Ripper called it a cooler because they kept the room at a lower temperature to drown out the smell of decaying bodies.
“I followed him.” River shrugged like it was no big deal. “He wasn’t worried about me finding out shit. What could I do? I’m only a prospect. I’m new. Blah blah fucking blah. But what he didn’t know was that I was trained by the best. You know Demitry Bloom, right?”
Greyson sat up straighter. “How do you know him?”
River smirked. “He’s my uncle.”
“No fucking way.” Greyson looked our way. “Did you know?” he asked Catch.
“No.” Catch grunted, rubbing his jaw. He had a nice shiner just below his left eye and was nursing his right leg, but he was alive. Sammy was untouched. Thank God.
“Sneaky fucker.”
“It makes sense now.”
“He kind of looks like him.”
“Anyway.” River sat forward, ignoring the comments coming from the guys. “He always taught me to follow my gut. When Ripper insisted that Zillah work out in the shop, it didn’t seem right. Why did he want her so close by?” He glanced my way. “And when you approached me, it was hard as fuck not to tell you to be careful.”
“So, you knew?” I asked him. “You knew what Ripper wanted?”
“Not completely.” River shook his head.
“He wanted my help,” I said, speaking up. All eyes were suddenly on me and I realized then how dumb I sounded. I looked down at my feet.
“Zillah,” my dad barked. “Come here.”
I did as I was told and headed to the table my dad sat at.
“You did nothing wrong. Hell.” He chuckled. “You did more than most of us ever could.”
I wrung my hands together, pulling at my blood-splattered shirt. “I need a shower,” I said more to myself than to anyone. “I …” I met my dad’s gaze, glancing between him and my brother, who were both alive. “I knew going in not to expect what I saw to be real, but it didn’t hurt any less. Almost losing you. Thinking I’d lost you, even though you told me over and over what was before me, might not be what I thought.” I wasn’t making sense. I took a breath and then another. “I … I can’t do this anymore.”