32. Thirst #2
I don’t want to leave her like this — eyes wet, hands in my hair, heart cracked open. But my phone is still buzzing, the club is waiting, and war is coming.
I straighten slowly, putting space between us, trying to fucking breathe through the bad feeling in my gut.
Her kitchen light paints her in gold, and for one stupid second, I just want to throw her on my bike and run the fuck away. Lose ourselves in the world. Forget about club business and blood and a past drenched in pain.
“I’m coming back,” I say, even though the promise feels like sand in my mouth.
Gary shows up out of nowhere, meowing at her feet and grabbing her attention. I use the moment to turn away before my eyes can betray me. By the time my bike growls to life, the numbness I know all too well is settled deep in my chest.
The mask drops over my face before I even push open the front door of the clubhouse.
Brothers are sprawled all over the place, chilling. Or so it looks. I pay no attention to them, and they don’t pay me any either.
Bones is out of sight, but I know exactly where he is, so I don’t focus on that.
I make my way behind the bar, movements as casual as ever.
“Need a beer, Ghost?” Grizz smiles my way. “I’ll get you one.”
“Nah, it’s fine, Grizz,” I say, opening the fridge. “I can get it myself. You look busy as fuck.”
A chuckle shakes his shoulders. “Yeah. Runa bailed last minute.” He sighs and goes back to the papers spread across the bar. “I’ve got inventory to do. Gotta make sure we’ve got enough stock for the weekend. But now I’m stuck with cleaning and prep too.”
“That sounds rough,” I murmur, twisting the cap off my bottle and leaning against the bar.
He nods absently, eyes still scanning the list. “I keep telling you guys, I need more permanent help than Runa. She’s more club girl than bartender. She’s here to party. The bar’s just a side gig.”
“We’ll find you someone,” I say, taking a pull from my beer before setting it on the counter. “Don’t worry.”
In my peripheral, I catch Fang watching me from beside the pool table, eyes narrowed, fingers fidgeting with the cue stick.
This fucker.
Grizz taps his pencil against his chin, then scribbles a note. “Yeah, Bones has been—”
He never finishes.
In the blink of an eye, my hand clamps around the back of his neck like a vise. I slam his head into the edge of the bar with enough force that I swear I hear bone crack.
Lights out.
I release him and let his body hit the floor with a dull thump, then I signal Tank and Five-Star to haul him away.
“I don’t get why we didn’t just grab him when he walked through the front door,” Fang complains, tossing the cue stick onto the pool table. “This was way too intense for a Thursday.”
“Because he always carries at least three guns,” I growl.
“He’s trigger-happy, and he would’ve tried to shoot his way out.
” I glare. “Sometimes it helps to use your fucking head. And you—” I point straight at him “—need to work on your game face. If he’d looked at you, he would’ve known something was off immediately. ”
I glance down at Grizz’s unconscious body, nausea twisting in my gut.
He’s a rat.
A fucking rat.
Almost fifteen goddamn years, and we had no idea. We never would’ve known if it weren’t for the cartel traitor I dragged into the open.
Bones had to call emergency Church while I was on the road, breaking every speed limit from Tolden City to Silverpine. The brothers were informed. Club justice was demanded.
“He’s taking fucking forever to wake up,” Bones grumbles, leaning forward in his chair, elbows braced on his knees. “You should’ve used a softer touch. You always go over the top with these things.”
I ignore the dig.
We’re sitting face to face with a naked, bound Grizz, right in the middle of the Fun House. Just the two of us. The rest of the brothers are waiting outside.
I glance at Bones. He looks tired as shit. I would be too, after hours on the phone trying to coordinate a hit against the Verdugos with Arcangelo Romano — especially now, when he’s still butthurt that his twin chose to leave the Famiglia and join the Vultures.
“I’m still fucking pissed at you,” I grind out. “You should’ve told me the moment Santiago made contact. Do you have any idea how fucking hard it was to leave hints for him while also making sure it didn’t get too obvious?”
Bones groans and leans back. “Don’t start bitching, Dom.
That fucker followed me around for three days.
Then he threw it in my face that we’d been harboring a rat in our club for fifteen years and walked.
” He pauses. “I had to vet him first. Make sure he’d actually deliver.
Get the name of the rat. You already had enough shit on your plate. ”
He looks at me, brows drawn tight. “How the fuck did you even clock this Santiago guy as a weak link?”
I roll my eyes. “One of the runts I took out used to be his neighbor. Told me an interesting story about a sicario who climbed to the rank of Captain by force. Proved himself to the cartel again and again. And still, Sombra keeps him at arm’s length.
Isolated from the other high ranks. Away from any real power.
” My eyes narrow. “That would make anyone angry. Didn’t take long to figure out Santiago wants Sombra and his men gone. ”
“The enemy of my enemy,” Bones mutters.
I nod.
“I talked to David, by the way,” he continues.
“Everything’s set on his end. He wanted me to pass along his ‘deepest gratitude’.
” He air-quotes the words and chuckles. “With all the intel you’ve fed him these past few months, he’s turned into the FBI’s golden boy. He’s expecting a promotion after this.”
“Of course he is,” I scoff. “He’s bagging a whole nest of dirty cops, sheriff included. We did his job for him, and he gets paid twice for it. Once by the feds. Once by us.”
“He earned it,” Bones says flatly. “And we get to stay clear of the fallout. No heat from the cops.”
“We get Bowie,” I say, teeth grinding. “In the end, that’s all I care about.”
David, our oh-so-grateful FBI mole, can have them all.
But Bowie is mine. That asshole will be declared a fugitive from the law — a dirty cop who ran from the feds while all his little friends were being rounded up.
Except it won’t be true. Tank and Fang will snatch him before the FBI ever reaches his door.
Bones drags a hand down his face, then glances at Grizz. “Is this fucker ever going to wake up?”
Right on cue, Grizz starts to stir. Time to call the rest of the brothers in.
Minutes later, everyone’s inside, and Grizz is staring at us with wide, furious eyes.
“What the fuck is happening?”
He’s been asking that ever since he woke up, but no one answered him. This time though, Bones steps forward.
“You’re a dirty rat, that’s what’s fucking happening,” he spits. “You sold out our brother, Ghost—” he points at me without looking, “—to the Verdugos years ago. You planted their drugs on him. He did hard time because of you. Don’t even try to deny it, we’ve got solid intel. We know everything.”
Bones inhales slowly.
“You owed them money. And you paid with my brother’s freedom.” His eyes harden. “And now you made contact with the Verdugos again, didn’t you? Told them Adora was at the clubhouse.” He sneers. “Just like the filthy rat you are.”
Grizz’s eyes bulge. He jerks against the restraints, but they hold fast. There’s nowhere to go. Then his face goes hollow. Glacial. He knows he wouldn’t be here if we weren’t sure. He knows there’s no escape from this. Either he confesses, or we force it out of him.
“That little bitch should’ve never come back,” he says flatly. “I thought she was done for after what Ghost did to her. But she stuck around like a bad rash. She’s trouble and someone had to make sure she went the fuck away for good.”
I surge forward. Tank’s hand slams down on my shoulder, hard enough to bruise. Fuck. I can’t lose my shit. Not yet. I need to breathe, his time is coming.
Bones doesn’t react. Not a flicker crosses his face.
Grizz flexes uselessly against the ropes. His lip curls. “Look, I wasn’t their bitch. I’m not a fucking rat, I didn’t snitch club business. I just did what I had to do to stay alive.”
“You have to understand, Bones. There was no other way.”
His jaw tightens, his eyes burn. “And everything was fine in the end. The past was gone and buried. Then the little slut just had to come back. Started getting closer to Ghost. You all fell at her feet. All she had to do was stay the fuck away.”
“But even after you lifted the lockdown, she was still around,” he snarls. “What if she knew about me? What if she talked?”
He exhales sharply. “So I called my old cartel contact. Told him about her. I couldn’t take care of her myself. Too risky. Too many eyes.” He shrugs. “But she had to go.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw as he looks at me.
“I’m sorry, Ghost. You’re a good guy. A good brother. You always were.” His voice cracks through the middle. “I just had to save myself.”
Silence crashes down around us, heavy with the weight of his words. We’ve dealt with traitors before, but one of the brothers? Someone so deep in the club? Never.
And Grizz… he was a permanent fixture. The man who always knew your order at the bar and got it to you before you even sat your ass down. He’s had almost thirty years in this club.
Fuck, we haven’t even told Pops yet. He’s going to be devastated.
“Blood in, blood out,” Bones says quietly, moments later.
Grizz’s head snaps up.
“You betrayed your brother. Which means you betrayed the club.” Bones’ gaze sweeps the room. “We are here to witness your confession, your judgment, and your sentence.”
His eyes lock back on Grizz.
“You’ve confessed. Now comes judgment.”
He turns to me, face carved from stone. “This right was earned in blood. What is your judgment, Ghost?”
I step forward, and look Grizz dead in the eyes. Let my monster rise to the surface and bare its teeth.
“My judgment is guilty,” I say coldly, then turn to the brothers. “The sentence is death.”
I face Grizz again. “And I’ll be the one to deliver it.”
For the first time tonight, fear breaks through. His mask shatters. He twists his head toward Bones.
“I failed the club,” he rushes out. “I accept my sentence. But please, Bones. Anyone but him. Please.” His voice trembles. “Just put a bullet in my head. Take it as my dying wish.”
“You don’t get fucking wishes,” I mutter, and slide my boot knife free.
His fear is understandable. I rarely participate in these things. Usually, I just witness whatever is going on. But the times I did participate… let’s just say word spread fast through the club, and even with the life we’re living, some stomachs turned.
He keeps pleading with Bones, with the rest of the brothers, but I tune him out.
He doesn’t belong to us anymore, so I get to work cutting the club tattoo from his shoulder.
He writhes under my touch, under the cut of my knife. He’s only making it worse for himself. Only making my rage scream higher. It may not show on my face, but my blood is fucking boiling inside my veins. Burning my insides to a crisp.
Minutes later, I drop the patch of bloody skin onto the floor and turn toward the tool table. My eyes narrow. So many fucking possibilities — but only one calls to me.
The whine of the angle grinder fills the room, high-pitched and electric. A sound that cuts straight into the spine.
Grizz barely has time to register it before I shove it against his cheek.
This isn’t like a knife. There’s no clean cut. No cold shock. Just heat and vibration tearing through flesh, shredding it beneath the sanding disk. Skin blistering and blackening as it vanishes into a fine mist of blood and tissue.
His screams are swallowed by the whirring as I push the grinder up his cheekbone, grit chewing into the soft muscle beneath his eye.
Adora’s face flashes before my eyes, smiling softly and bright as always. It only serves to make my thirst for this fucker’s blood roar louder.
He thrashes, nails clawing uselessly at the wood of the chair. The grinding howl deepens as bone resists, then splinters into chalky dust mixed with blood.
The vibrations rattle through me, turning my thoughts to static. Anchoring my mind to the work.
By the time I tear the grinder away, there’s nothing left but a gouged, smoking ruin of meat and exposed bone.
Grizz’s last breath wheezed out long ago.
“Fuck,” someone mutters softly. I don’t recognize the voice. The whine of the grinder is still echoing through my skull.
I look down at my hands. They’re drenched in red. My face probably is too. And still, the thirst inside me roars.
Grizz’s biggest mistake wasn’t setting me up. Because of his years with the club, he would’ve earned a bullet for that. Nothing more. But he went after Adora. Put a target on her back. He shouldn’t have fucking done that.
“I got too close,” Joker murmurs. “My shirt is ruined.”
“It’s done,” Bones says, stepping forward, a hand landing on my shoulder. “Domino. Fang. Take the body to the oven. Turn it to ash.”
He inhales deeply, fingers tightening.
“Then all of you get ready. We leave in two hours.”