Chapter Thirty-Three
Banshee
“Kaylah.”
It couldn’t be. It was impossible; it had to be a coincidence. Steele knew I’d joined the club looking for my sister. He knew what she meant to me.
“My mother’s name was Kaylah Russell, and my father, your fucking president, sold my mother, my sister Kinsley and me to the Satan’s Angels. Is that what you wanted to fucking know?” Her words were spat out in hatred. A hatred I understood. A hatred I shared.
My chin dropped to my chest. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t face my sister’s child with the shame I was feeling right now. I had been so fucking close.
When Kaylah disappeared, I’d searched everywhere for her. How had she ended up with the Silver Shadows, and why did he lie to me? Why, when I came to him begging for help, did he lie to my fucking face and tell me he would do everything in his power to help me find her?
He fucking knew where she was. He sold my sister and her children like a head of fucking cattle.
“Who?” I asked.
“Who what?” Her voice sharp, dripping with anger.
“Who fucking bought her?” I lifted my head and stared into her eyes. My sister’s eyes. My mother’s eyes. “Who did Steele sell her to?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because she was my fucking sister!” I shouted. “Who fucking bought her?”
Her head snapped back as if I’d hit her, and shame washed over me again. This was my niece. My sister's daughter. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me. I didn’t want her to hate me. I hated myself enough for the both of us.
“The Satan’s Angels,” she whispered.
I took deep breaths, slowly inhaling to control the rage that was coursing through my body. I looked at her again; she read the question on my face.
“Knuckles.”
That son of a bitch was already dead. Knuckles had been VP of Satan’s Angels before he was killed by Ink, a member of the Golden Skulls, when he was a teenager and walked in on his dad being fucked by the VP.
Their president Steele was also dead. He’d been killed by Fury, back in January, after Fury’s old lady was kidnapped.
Though mine was still alive.
For now.
Steele and Stone. President and VP of the Silver Shadows’ Mother Chapter. Two dead men walking. They were responsible for the death of their parents. We knew that now thanks to Sypher. They were responsible for Chasm. They were responsible for my sister and my niece.
“What happened to you when your mother died?”
She stared back at me, her eyes wide. A hint of stubbornness peeked out from behind what looked like curiosity. She looked away; her curiosity replaced by shame. Shame she didn’t deserve. Shame she shouldn’t feel.
“Sweetheart, what happened?”
“After my mother died, I was sold to the Death Dogs.”
I inhaled deeply. Haizley’s voice ran through my head. Words she had said to Aspen when her panic started. Only, what I was feeling wasn’t panic. It was fury.
It was a tornado building inside me. Anger swirled with shame. The two emotions circled each other in different directions, building a storm that would destroy the earth. One that would destroy Steele.
When I got my hands on that cocksucker, I would make sure he felt everything my sister had. Every punch, every broken bone, every rape that he was responsible for.
I had never seen Steele mistreat a woman. In all the years I’d served under him, I’d never seen him hit a woman or take a woman against her will. But the fact that he sold my sister to the Satan’s Angels.
We all knew what they did. What they were capable of. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I would see everything my sister had endured at their hands.
“Why are you here?”
“You’re my uncle?”
“You knew you had an uncle?” I asked.
“Not until recently.” She continued to stare at me as if trying to work something out. “A man came to the clubhouse and asked if my uncle knew I was there.”
There? Not here?
“What clubhouse?”
“The Brotherhood of Bastards’.”
“Why the fuck were you at their clubhouse?” I shouted, and she flinched. “I’m sorry, Kyllian. Please tell me everything. I need a list of who I need to fucking kill.”
Her smile was small and sad. “I don’t need you to kill anyone. You don’t even know me.”
“You’re my sister’s child. My family. I failed her; I won’t fail you.”
“How did you fail her? Did you let your father sell her?”
My eyes snapped up to hers. “What?” I growled. “Kaylah ran away.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what she told us. She told us her father sold her to ours.”
My jaw clenched tightly. My hands fisted against the arm of the chair. I’d killed the bastard too quickly. I should have tortured him, made him tell me everything he did to her and maybe I would have found her sooner.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“My road name is Banshee. But my real name is Elijah.”
“Like in the Bible. He defeated Jezebel,” she said quietly.
“No. Elisha defeated Jezebel. Elijah ran like a pussy.”
It was how I was feeling now. Like a fucking pussy who couldn’t protect his family. A vision of Aspen floated before me. Another woman I couldn’t protect because I’d run like a fucking pussy.
I should have taken her when I had the chance. Knowing now what had happened to my sister, knowing what had happened to Aspen. What probably had happened to Kyllian.
“How did you end up with the Brotherhood?”
I listened as Kyllian told me about being sold to the Death Dogs after Knuckles died.
Her marriage to Pinch, and his debt to the Brotherhood.
And she told me about Firestride coming to collect that debt and taking her as collateral.
How he’d made her his old lady. The first old lady the Brotherhood ever had.
I knew there were things she was leaving out. I could see it in her eyes. She didn’t trust me. I understood that. I couldn’t expect her to trust me simply because I was her uncle. The uncle who had allowed her mother to be sold—twice.
I had to earn her trust, and I would. If it was the last fucking thing I did.
Kyllian and I talked about nothing. Mostly superficial stories from our pasts. I told her about Aspen. How I planned to make her my old lady. I left out her connection to the Death Dogs and Pepper, wondering if Kyllian had known Irene.
The doors opened, and Breaker returned. He’d been with Pepper when they found me on the side of the highway.
“Time for a field trip, kids.”
“Where?” Kyllian asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Breaker whispered loudly.
“Touch her, and I will fucking kill you,” I snarled as Breaker reached for Kyllian. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me.
“Big words for a man who’s bound and bleeding to death.”
“Fucking try me.”
Breaker looked behind me and nodded. “Untie the fucker and let’s see what he’s got.” He leaned in. “You may have gotten a shot off at Pepper, but you don’t have a fucking gun now, old man.”
I narrowed my eyes as I waited for someone to untie my hands. As soon as one was free, I grabbed Breaker’s cut and pulled him forward, smashing my forehead into his nose.
Stupid fucker didn’t know enough to step back. The crunch of bone echoed around the room, followed by Breaker’s scream. A fist flew at my face, jerking my head to the side. I grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it, hearing his wrist break and shoving him back.
Someone came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my neck, as another man stood in front of me, his fists hitting me in the stomach over and over. Black clouds swirled the edges of my vision, when the man behind me suddenly let go.
I was disoriented enough that the man in front of me was able to get multiple shots in. I could hear Kyllian screaming and swearing at the men who were taking great pleasure in beating the fuck out of me.
As the world went black, my only thoughts were that once again, I had failed a woman in my life I was meant to protect.
I came to, still tied to a chair, though the place was different. Instead of the dirty basement of the Death Dogs’ clubhouse, I was in a bar. One eye swollen shut, the other opening only part way, made it difficult to see where exactly we were.
Though the stools were undeniable, as was the man behind the bar who kept throwing glances my way.
Cecil.
We were at the Tumbleweed, in Burns. The bar I had stopped at when I came to check out the Death Dogs’ clubhouse. The day I’d found a note on my bike.
I wondered if Jude had left that note. Had he been following me, or watching the Death Dogs? Was he here now? Was he helping them? Had he betrayed his brothers?
So many questions that didn’t have answers. My head pounded in rhythm with the beat of the music. Normally I would enjoy the classic rock that blasted through the stereo system. But today it had the power to force me back into the darkness.
Turning my head, I saw Kyllian at my side, also tied to a chair. What did they hope to gain here? What was Skinner’s plan in bringing us here?
I was glad to see that other than a few bruises on her face, she was in better shape than I was. She turned to look at me and shook her head, silently telling me not to talk.
I wondered what she might have heard. Did she know why we were here? There were only a few patched members guarding us among the patrons of the bar.
Did the customers not think it was odd to have a man beaten to shit tied to a chair in front of them? Or was this the type of place that just never asked questions?
The type of place that didn’t care what went on as long as it didn’t involve them.
I didn’t know how long we had been there.
Or how long I had been knocked out. I knew I had a concussion.
The rags they used to doctor my wounds enough to keep me from dying were dirty, ensuring infection would set in if I didn’t get antibiotics soon.
Maybe that was their plan. To leave me to rot in the corner of the bar. My brothers having no idea where I was. I looked down, seeing my cut was still on me. Surely Cecil would call King; I had to believe he was a good guy caught in the middle of a war that had nothing to do with him.
To be honest, we had no idea what the war was for. We still didn’t know what Skinner’s game was. What he wanted. What he hoped to accomplish.
There was no way to know how long we sat there when the doors to the bar suddenly slammed open. Four men I recognized stormed in. None of them were my brothers, but seeing Eros, I knew King knew where I was.
I watched silently as Eros walked over to Cecil and slammed a fistful of money down on the bar. “Clear the place now,” he snarled, his eyes on the men in the room.
Cecil, being the wise man I knew he was, grabbed the cash and shouted, “Bar’s closed! Everyone out!” Then he followed the patrons through the door.
Everything moved quickly after that. The four men moved about the room, their voices deadly as they spoke to their prey.
“Finish it, Firestride,” Eros shouted. “They’re coming in!”
Firestride raised his gun, pointed it at the dead fucker behind us, and fired. Pain radiated through my head at the sound. The blackness began to take over again just as the doors to the Tumbleweed kicked open, and Morpheus, King, and Zeus walked in with several others.