15. Rooster #2
None of us questioned Grant’s ability to handle both Bauco and the Reapers. We’d all seen what he could do and knew he’d send a message that everyone Bruton worked with would hear loud and clear.
Wrath cleared his throat and then asked, “What do you want us to do about our friends?”
“Torch ‘em,” Cotton answered. “It’s the safest route.”
“And the goods?”
“Leave them in the trunk,” Cotton answered. “Bauco needs to know we delivered as promised.”
We each gave him an understanding nod, then got to work loading the bodies into the cars.
We siphoned some gas from their tanks, just enough to douse the interior, then set them on fire.
It didn’t take long for the flames to take hold, and within minutes, both vehicles were totally engulfed.
Fearing the smoke might draw attention, Cotton announced, “It’s time to move. ”
And just like that, we all dispersed and loaded into our separate vehicles. No one said a word as we pulled out of the parking lot and started home. We’d driven less than a mile when I glanced up at my rearview mirror and spotted the blanket that Cotton had draped over Chains.
I thought back to his last moments, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty about how things had played out.
It didn’t matter what Cotton said. I should’ve just ignored the asshole and made the exchange, but I let my anger get the best of me.
The only thing that kept me from losing it was knowing that I wasn’t alone in my torment.
Each of my brothers felt the same, and together, we would find a way to pay a proper homage to our fallen brother.
Everyone was there waiting for us when we got back to the clubhouse. Doc and Prez were standing in front with a gurney, and they all stood silent, watching as we moved Chains from the truck. Doc carried him down to the infirmary and started preparing him for his burial.
The rest of us gathered in the bar, and we spent the next hour filling in Prez and the rest of the brothers in on what had gone down. Just as I expected, Prez wanted both the Reapers and Bauco to pay and he wanted them to pay big.
There was some back and forth on how to make that happen, especially after what happened to Chains.
Even though we all had a thirst for revenge, there was no reason to put the club or the brothers at any further risk.
We all agreed that Grant would handle it, and I could tell by his expression that he had big plans for them.
The following day, we all met out back and had a small service for Chains. He didn’t have any family or connections to outsiders, so we buried him with our other fallen brothers. Prez said a few words about Chains, then read a brief scripture.
Once he was done, we all headed out to the parking lot.
It was cold, but thankfully, the roads were clear, and we were able to do our tribute run.
We all waited and watched as Prez pulled up to the gate and revved his engine.
We all followed suit--the roar of our engines echoed the unspoken pain that lingered within all of us.
With the wind whipping around us, we pulled out onto the open road, and a sense of sorrow enveloped us as we followed our leader out towards the coast. The road stretched out ahead like a winding memorial—each mile a symbolic gesture for our fallen brother.
We returned to the clubhouse and met in the bar for a couple of drinks, but none of us were in the mood for much more than that. I still needed to get the house ready for Maggie and her kids, so I tossed my empty bottle in the trash and announced, “I’m heading out.”
“Where you running off to?”
“Maggie and the kids are coming out to the house tonight, and the place is a total fucking wreck. I gotta get groceries, too.”
“You could always take a couple of the girls with ya,” Savage suggested. “They could give you a hand getting things ready.”
“Yeah, and let Maggie get all kinds of pissed at me? Hell, no. I’d rather not have my ass in a sling,”
“Can’t say I blame you there.”
“Have a good one, brother.”
Without saying anything more, I left the bar and headed out to my truck.
As I pulled out, I glanced over at the back of the lot where we buried Chains, and bile rose to my throat.
I was struggling. Hell, I was more than struggling.
I was a fucking mess, but the thought of seeing Maggie helped to ease the ache in the pit of my stomach.
I ran by the grocery store and picked up everything I thought we might need, then drove home and started cleaning up.
Thankfully, the house wasn’t as bad as I thought, and I was able to get it in order without it being a huge ordeal.
I’d just finished putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher when my phone chimed with a message.
I grabbed it out of my pocket, and my spirits lifted the second I read:
Maggie:
We’re on the way.
Me:
Great.
Maggie:
Do we need to pick up anything on the way?
Me:
Nope.
I got it covered.
Maggie:
Are you sure?
I could stop by the Dollar Store and grab some knock-off Twinkies.
Me:
Don’t you dare!
Maggie:
Okay. Okay.
We’ll be there in twenty.
Me:
Good deal.
Be careful.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and got busy getting dinner started. I decided to make them a pan of my special lasagna. It had always been a favorite with the brothers, and I hoped Maggie and the kids would feel the same.
It wasn’t long before I had the entire house smelling like fresh tomato sauce and sizzling garlic.
I placed the pan of lasagna in the oven and rushed to the bedroom to change.
As I pulled on my jeans, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was surprised to find that I was actually smiling.
It was at that moment that I realized just what an effect this woman was having on me.
I was a fucking goner, and it felt good.
Damn good.