Chapter 3 #2
We’ve been through shit and back since I became a Heathen. I’ve seen my patch brothers hold their murdered siblings, I’ve seen them get stabbed, shot, beaten, and bruised. I have more blood on my hands than most of the men here. But I’ve never been scared. I’ve never felt fear.
Not until now.
We come to a fast stop outside Hell’s Asylum, and we all make the same movements, pulling our guns free and holding them in front of us.
Sin and I flank Chaos, looking around the construction site.
There are no bikes here besides ours, no people milling about.
It’s a fucking dead zone, and confusion swirls in my head. But I’m on edge.
Something’s not right.
I’m a split second from thinking the entire area is going to blow until I hear a moan followed by a cough. We jog over to find Luca leaning against the back of a dumpster, his shirt soaked in blood, his hands clutching his middle. Blood oozes from his side, the ground below him a wet mess.
Chaos crouches down just as Stitch drops to his knees, ripping Luca’s shirt down the center. Sin and I stand guard, our guns ready, looking around us for any danger. Where the fuck is Rolo?
Sin gives me a look, raising his eyebrows. He’s just as nervous as I am.
“Talk!” Chaos demands. Fucking finally. Before he bleeds out all over the ground, and we don’t get the info we need.
“He-he shot at us. I got in front of him, but I went down, and he kept shooting,” Luca says between wheezing coughs. Stitch starts to work on him, and I look down to find two bullet holes on the side of his stomach. Luca groans, and I roll my eyes. What a baby. I’ve had worse.
“Who shot at you?”
“Garrett.”
“Fuck,” Sin hisses. I should have fucking known. Goddamnit!
“Where the fuck is Rolo? You said he was shot. Where?” I spit, looking all around. Luca lifts a weak arm, pointing at the construction site. I don’t waste any more time, running into the framework of the new building, my eyes scanning the area.
Then I see him. Limp and lifeless. Lying in a pool of his own blood, the crimson color darkened against the freshly laid concrete. The world gets hazy around me, the edge of my vision darkening. Blood rushes between my ears as I stare down at the man who saved my life.
I drop to my knees at his side, checking his pulse, even though his eyes are open and the light is gone. This can’t be fucking happening. There’s no fucking way I’m looking at Rolo’s dead body.
I slap my hand against my head repeatedly. “Fuck!” I scream. Pain laces through my chest, my shoulders curving forward, my stomach contracting as it cramps, the bile churning. I hear men behind me, footsteps, voices, breathing. But this time, I don’t register who they are. I don’t care.
“Fuck, man.”
“Goddamn it, not fucking Rolo.”
“Mal?”
I don’t look away from his body, the leather vest. I count out the patches, tapping my middle finger against the top of my thigh, trying to breathe.
Rolo. One.
Washington. Two.
Original. Three.
Treasurer. Four.
My voice is eerily calm when I speak. “He knew something was coming, he fucking felt it, and I didn’t listen.”
“What do you mean, he knew?”
“That night at the bar when I texted. He was drinking alone and felt like something big was on the horizon. He fucking felt his death coming. He knew.”
“Malice, even if that’s so, there’s nothing we could have done. We’re going to find that sonofabitch who took him from us. We will get our revenge.”
“Fuck that. Why the fuck was he allowed to come here alone? I should have gone with him! Fuck you, Chaos, for letting him go! Fuck you!”
“Mal, there’s nothing any of us could have done!” Sin says, trying to de-escalate the situation.
“There is! I could have gone with him! I could have tracked him! No one misses fucking church except Rogue! No one! Why the fuck was he out with only two prospects? After everything we’ve been through! I know better. I do!”
“Buddy, we do it all the time, even when there was the constant threat of danger, I was leaving, you know I was,” Sin replies. “We’re all hurting. We’re all going to get through this together, and we’re going to find Garrett. Make him pay.”
“Fuck you! Jesse didn’t deserve this! He saved ME! Me! When I had no one, when I had never known an ounce of kindness, Jesse fuckin’ gave it to me! And look at him!” I spin on Chaos, needing a place to unload my feelings. “He was the fucking best of us. And he’s fucking dead!”
Chaos meets my anger, rising to the challenge like I knew he would.
“You think I don’t know that, Mal? You think I don’t see it?
You think I don’t carry that fucking guilt with me every single goddamn day?
It’s like a fucking shadow, hovering over me every goddamn minute.
The devil himself walks with me, and I never know when he’s going to claim one of my brothers.
He already took Ace from me.” Chaos pounds on his chest with his fist as he enunciates each word. “I! Fucking! Know!”
“This shouldn’t have happened. I won’t sleep until we find this motherfucker. No one had better touch him but me.”
“Get him out of here,” Chaos says, looking at Sin, then turns to face Wrath to bark out more orders. “This is too public, and we have Morgan to think about. We can’t handle this one on our own. Call Deputy Evans, explain the situation, and let’s get this cleaned up.”
Everyone moves as I fall back down at Jesse’s side.
I move his body, working hard to get his cut removed before someone takes it as evidence or it ends up lost. Sin squats down on the other side of him, working to help me in my task.
Neither of us speaks. We don’t need to. I catch the shake of his hands in his movements, the way he grinds his molars together.
Someone from inside our home turned on us, took one of our club officers, took one of our brothers. That won’t stand.
Anger floods me fast and violent, licking up my spine and setting my nerves aflame.
I try to breathe in, to stay rooted to the present, to stay in control, but there’s no containing it.
It builds and builds. Heat blooms behind my ribs, a steady thrum under my skin, coursing through my veins.
I can feel my pulse everywhere—between my ears, my throat, my fingertips, a roaring thunder drowning out all else.
My muscles coil tightly on their own, my jaw locked so tight my teeth grind against each other.
The world around me starts to narrow, the edges blurring, the only color the blood red covering my palms, the floor, the man in front of me.
My blood boils within my veins, pain replaced with pure malice.
I’ve never wanted vengeance more. I crack my neck side to side, my mind taking me to a place that isn’t here.
A place that’s just as dark. A place that haunts me.
A place where I first felt the sweet cosmic relief and freedom that came with taking vengeance. The first time I got blood on my hands.