Brick’s Redemption (Graven Bastards MC Las Vegas, NV #5)

Chapter 1 Brick

F ifteen years earlier—

“You think she’ll like this?” Hesh asks, holding up a silver bracelet with dangling charms. A unicorn, an open book, and a flower are all hooked on it. “I don’t know if this is enough.” He frowns. “I think I need more.”

Shrugging, I have no idea how to answer. What do I know about a thirteen-year-old girl’s preferences?

“Shit. Give me some advice.” He gestures to the different charms and ignores the saleswoman, who taps her fingers on the glass and begins to look impatient.

I point to a star and a dog. “She likes stargazing and her dog.”

He nods. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll add those. Any others?”

I’m still not sure why he brought me along on this shopping trip for his daughter’s birthday. Ginny is a kid. A sweet kid, but still. I don’t want it to be weird that I notice things about her. It’s not that I’m checking her out. We’ve just had some interesting conversations. And when Brick told me to protect and watch over Ginny, I’ve done so, no questions asked.

Can’t help it if I know she likes caramel candy, keeps a handful in her purse, loves the outdoors like her old man, or sings off-key to her favorite songs. He’s the one who ordered me to keep an eye on her.

I peruse the charms, checking if there’s anything else she might like. I spot two more. “The ice cream cone and the heart. From you,” I hastily clarify.

Hesh smirks. “Yeah.”

I gesture to the plain ones. “Maybe get her name engraved or something.”

He grins. “I got just the thing.” While he’s spelling out what he wants engraved, I move along the cases. My stare falls on the expensive watches and other jewelry.

It doesn’t take long for his purchase to be completed, paid, and gift-wrapped. We leave the store with plenty of time to spare for Ginny’s thirteenth birthday party later today.

“You’re comin’, right?”

Uh. Maybe? “Hesh,” I begin, trying to find an excuse.

“Hey, I get she’s young, but this day is important to me. I want you there to help celebrate.”

Well, when he puts it like that. “Will there be beer?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. We’re keeping it in the fridge, separate from the coolers outside. Don’t want any kids sneaking shit on my watch.”

“Smart.”

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah.”

He slaps me on the back. “Good.”

Both of our phones vibrate with an incoming text. I check mine as Hesh flips his open.

“Church.”

I nod. “Pres wants us there asap.”

“Then we ride out. Let’s move.”

By the time we return to the clubhouse, we’re the last to arrive.

Thorn gestures to the seat as we enter. “About fucking time.”

He calls the meeting to order, and I sit at the table, glancing around at the men I’ve come to know and call brothers. We’re a ragtag bunch from different walks of life, experiences, and past traumas, but we’re bonded in ways most people will never understand.

“We’ve got a message from the Crimson Skulls.”

That bit of information has us all focusing on Thorn and what he’ll say next. “Keep shit tight. No one rides alone.”

Brick frowns. “What’s the message?”

“I quote, ‘An eye for an eye.’”

Rumbles from the others at the table follow as every member states how he wants to proceed. I listen to the officers give their opinions on how to handle the CSMC and their threats. Things have come to a boiling point, and most of the club members want to take this to the streets. It’s time we shut the Crimson Skulls down for good.

They’ve pushed drugs into our territory, tried to push us out, attacked members, and stalked members’ homes. In the last six months, it’s gotten worse. We’ve nearly brought everyone inside the clubhouse to lock it down.

“Then we take it to vote.” Thorn sits back, eyeing each man in turn. “All in favor of visiting the CSMC clubhouse and ending this shit. Yes or no?”

Not a single member votes it down.

Once church ends, everyone clears. Thorn calls for Brick to stay, so I wave and head outdoors, sitting on my bike. The sun is fading, and the light remaining on the horizon reminds me of Ginny’s hair. She’s a sweet girl. Someday, she’ll grow up to be a real beauty, and Hesh will have his hands full.

I nearly chuckle.

He’ll have to beat the boys wanting to date her. I’ll help.

I light a smoke and finish it as Brick strides outdoors. “Everything good?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You need me?” I’m always ready to have his back. No questions asked. Hesh is the one who took a chance on me in the beginning, vouching for me and putting his trust in me as a young kid looking to prospect. Anything he needs help with me, count me in.

“Nah. Just gonna pick up some ice cream and head home.”

“Not ridin’ alone, right?”

He snorts. “I’m good.”

I want to argue. Hell, I nearly do.

“See you at three. Don’t forget her present,” he jokes.

Yeah, I had a nice gift for Ginny. She’d love it. At least, I hoped so. Kids her age are hard to figure out.

“Later, old man.”

He flips me off and laughs before riding out of the gate and toward home.

Intuition is a funny thing. It’s hard to describe to someone who’s never experienced its nagging, intense, persistent tug. I’ve never been a guy who’s put a lot of belief in that sort of thing, but today I feel it. It takes hold of me and won’t let go.

I can’t shake the feeling that I need to follow Hesh.

I’m riding after him in less than fifteen minutes, following the familiar roads to his residence. It’s practically a second home to me as often as I’m there. Ciara and Ginny have become my family, too.

About halfway there, I hear sirens in the distance. I don’t know why, but all I can think about is Hesh. Urgency thrums through my body.

He has to be okay.

Only he’s not. I know it. I feel it before I see his body on the ground. His crashed bike. Broken glass and metal debris. Blood. The smell of gasoline from his tank.

I don’t remember stopping my bike or jumping off. I must have had the presence of mind to shut off the engine and kick down the stand because it’s still gleaming in the sun.

I drop to my knees beside Hesh, reaching into my cut to call 9-1-1. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying to the operator. It’s a fucking blur.

Hesh grips my hand as I stare into his face, terrified as I watch him struggling to breathe. He’s barely hanging on as I shout for help.

How the fuck did this happen? Who shot him?

I’m pressing my hand on his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. There’s so much fucking blood. It’s pooling on his chest and soaking into the asphalt beneath him.

“Fuck!”

“Brick,” he gasps.

“Help is on the way,” I try to assure him, speaking through a fog and tears clogging my throat. It’s too thick. I can’t swallow.

“Keep them safe.” He coughs. “Promise me.”

I nod. “Of course.”

“Protect Ciara.” He groans, and I know he’s going to die. “Protect my daughter.”

“I will.”

“With your life,” he manages to say before his grip begins to slacken.

“I swear it, Hesh.”

I know he wants to say more but doesn’t get a chance. Whatever spirit or soul resides inside our bodies and makes them living, breathing, and beautiful leaves his shell behind.

It’s so fucking gut-wrenching that I feel tears drip from my eyes. I’m crying and fucking furious. It’s a dangerous, volatile combination. Whoever did this is dead. I will reap vengeance on their souls and families until none remain.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny,” I whisper, knowing she’s about to get the worst news of her young life. “I’ll avenge you. I won’t stop until everyone responsible is buried beneath my boots.”

And with that vow, I stand as paramedics rush to revive a man I already know is gone.

I make one final call. As I hear Thorn’s bellow, I know the entire club will ride with the fury of hell tonight, and not a motherfucker will stop the bloodshed that follows.