Chapter Twenty-Five
Digger
Riding into the Diamondback compound, I pulled up close to the clubhouse just as two Diamondback brothers hauled Shadow out of the building. My former brother was ranting and raving as he punched the side of the clubhouse before storming off toward the far end of the lot.
Cutting my engine, I slowly got off my bike, stretching my arms over my head as my wife, Stella, remarked while removing her helmet, “It’s hotter than Hell here. This dry air ain’t good for my hair.”
“You look beautiful, baby. Pretty as a fiddle.”
Stella narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s fit as a fiddle, you idiot.”
I grinned at her, knowing damn well what I’d said. Looking around the place, I grimaced. “This place is borin’. No trees. No grass. No mountains. How the fuck do they live here?”
“Who the fuck cares?” Stella snapped, swinging her leg off the bike and planting her boots on the dusty ground.
“Let’s just go inside and get Slaughter before Reaper shows up.
It’s a good thing Ari called me and told me what the hell your brother was up to.
Got love for Chapman, but the man is in deep shit if Reaper gets his hands on him first.”
Just then an old Chevy pickup truck pulled into the compound, stirring up dust and dirt before it slammed on the brakes, coming to a stop mere inches before it crashed into the clubhouse. I watched with wide eyes as two women jumped out of the truck.
“He won’t listen to me, Faith,” a cute brunette woman clearly said, slamming the truck door.
“He will listen to me,” the other woman snapped as she marched toward the entrance of the clubhouse.
“Faith!” the other woman shouted, rushing after her. “You can’t just walk in there!”
“Watch me!”
“Wonder what that’s all about?” Stella mused, standing next to me.
Shrugging, I simply said, “Don’t know.”
Heading for the entrance, I had barely stepped inside when I found total pandemonium.
Reaper and Montana were talking with Kansas and some suit near the club’s bar.
Diamondback brothers milled around, some watching TV, while others huddled near the back as someone was pounding on a man on the floor, and Sandman was sitting at the bar with his pink sparkly headphones on, drinking a glass of milk.
Smiling, I puffed up my chest and said, “I’ve found my people.”
“You’re gonna find my boot up your ass if you don’t go help,” my woman snapped.
“Help with what?”
My lovely wife pointed her recently manicured claws toward the far corner of the room where someone was getting a beat-down. “You seriously just gonna stand here with your thumb up your butt while Ghost beats the hell out of your brother?”
“Huh?”
Narrowing my eyes, I focused on the beat-down, then roared as I charged into the fray. “MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Oh shit,” I vaguely heard Reaper shout as I charged through the crowd before grabbing Ghost by the back of his cut, ripping him off my brother. “Sandman, get off your ass and do your fucking job!”
Upon seeing me, Ghost’s eyes widened, right before I threw back my fist and hit the fucker square in his face.
“Kick his ass, DIG!” Stella shouted as I beat the crap out of Ghost.
“Digger!” Ghost yelled, trying to duck my punches. “We’re family!”
“Ain’t no blood of mine!” I growled, tackling the soon-to-be dead fucker to the ground.
Ghost twisted beneath me, trying to throw me off, but I had momentum and rage on my side. My fist connected with his jaw again, snapping his head to the side. Blood sprayed from his split lip, and I felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage under my knuckles.
“You don’t get to touch my brother!” I snarled, grabbing Ghost by his cut and slamming him back against the floor. “You don’t get to lay a fuckin’ hand on him!”
“He didn’t ask for permission!” Ghost roared back, finally getting his hands up to block my next punch.
“I don’t give a shit about your Golden Rule!” I threw another punch, catching him in the ribs. “That’s my brother! My blood! You think I’m gonna stand here and watch you beat him to death?”
Ghost bucked hard, throwing me off balance, and we rolled across the floor in a tangle of limbs and fury. Brothers scattered out of our way as we crashed into a table, sending beer bottles flying. I heard Stella’s voice above the chaos, still cheering me on like we were at a damn football game.
“Get him, baby! Right hook! RIGHT HOOK!”
Ghost managed to get on top of me, his fist connecting with my cheekbone hard enough to make stars explode across my vision. But I’d been in enough fights to know how to take a hit. I grabbed his cut again and head-butted him, feeling his nose crunch against my forehead.
“ENOUGH!”
The roar came from Reaper, but neither Ghost nor I stopped.
We were too far gone, too deep in the violence to hear reason.
I felt hands grabbing at me. Multiple sets of hands trying to pull us apart.
Sandman had finally gotten off his ass and was hauling Ghost backward while Reaper and Kansas grabbed me.
“Let me go!” I snarled, still trying to get at Ghost. “Let me fuckin’ go!”
“Stand down, Digger!” Reaper commanded, his voice like thunder. “That’s an order!”
I stopped struggling, but my chest was heaving, and my fists were still clenched. Ghost was being held back by Sandman and Montana, blood streaming from his nose, his eye already swelling shut.
“You done?” Reaper asked, his grip still tight on my shoulders.
“Depends,” I said, spitting blood onto the floor. “Is he done beatin’ on my brother?”
Reaper’s eyes narrowed. “Your brother broke the rules. He fucked Ghost’s sister. Shadow’s sister. He knew the consequences.”
“Yeah, well, I never said he was smart!” I shot back. “But it’s Slaughter, Reaper. You know my brother just doesn’t do shit willy-nilly. He plays by the rules. Always. That’s gotta count for somethin’, Reaper.”
“And you thought starting a fight with Ghost was the best way to sway my mind?”
I shrugged, wiping blood from my split lip. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kansas muttered, running a hand over his face. “This is a fucking circus.”
“Where’s Chapman?” I asked, finally looking around the room.
I spotted him on the floor near the wall, curled up and barely moving.
My stomach dropped. “Chap!” I shoved past Reaper and dropped to my knees beside my brother.
His face was a mess. Swollen, bloody, barely recognizable.
His breathing was shallow and ragged, and when I touched his shoulder, he flinched.
“Hey, brother,” I said quietly, my voice rough. “It’s me. It’s Dig.”
Chapman’s good eye cracked open, focusing on me with difficulty. “Dig?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Stella’s here too. We came to rescue you.”
“No...” he rasped, spitting blood on the floor, “blowing shit up.”
“Don’t worry, bro. Left all my good toys at home,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re my brother. You think I’m gonna let them kill you over some bullshit rule?”
“This isn’t bullshit,” Ghost snarled from across the room, still being held back by Sandman. “He touched my sister! He should have—”
“He should have what?” I interrupted. “Come to you and Shadow and asked if he could court your sister like this is the fuckin’ 1800s?
Get real, man. Chapman’s been through hell.
He lost Julie. Took off ’cause he couldn’t look at Aurora without the pain consumin’ him.
And somehow, your sister made him feel alive again. You really gonna punish him for that?”
Ghost’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.
I turned to Reaper. “Look, I know the rules. I know what the Golden Rule says. But Chapman didn’t just fuck Hope and walk away. I know my brother. He doesn’t just fuck anyone, Reaper. If he’s chosen Hope, he’s made a commitment. That’s gotta count for somethin’.”
Reaper studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he looked at Chapman, still crumpled on the floor, and finally at Ghost, who was breathing hard and bleeding from multiple places.
“This is a mess,” Reaper said finally.
“Yeah, well, welcome to the Moore family,” I said with a bitter laugh. “We specialize in messes.”
The brunette I remembered from outside walked closer. Hope, I realized, stopped dead when she saw Chapman on the floor, her face going white. “Chapman!” she cried, rushing toward him.
“Hope, no!” Ghost started, but she ignored him completely as she dropped to her knees beside Chapman, her hands hovering over his battered face like she was afraid to touch him.
“Oh God. Oh God, what did you do to him?”
“What he deserved,” Ghost said coldly.
Hope’s head whipped around, and the look she gave her brother could have melted steel. “How dare you?”
“Hope—”
“No!” She stood up, putting herself between Chapman and Ghost. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to beat him half to death and then act like you’re in the right.”
“He broke the rules!”
“I love him!” Hope shouted, and the room went silent again. “I love him, Balthazar. Do you understand what I’m saying, or are you going to call me a whore too?”
Ghost’s face went slack with shock. “Who the fuck called you a whore?”
Hope’s voice was steady now, despite the tears streaming down her face.
“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is Chapman.
I love him, Balthazar. I love him so much that my heart hurts.
I have never asked for anything from you or the Golden Skulls.
But I’m asking for him. He’s mine. You men claim women and expect us to fall in line.
Well, I’m claiming Slaughter. All of him. He’s mine.”
I watched as the information sank in around the room. Reaper’s expression shifted from anger to calculation. Kansas looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Montana was grinning like this was the best entertainment he’d had in years. And Ghost... Ghost looked like he had been punched in the gut.
“Who was it?” he asked slowly. “Who the fuck called you a whore?”
“That’s all you heard?” Hope snapped as the other woman, Faith, stepped forward and put a hand on Hope’s shoulder.
“It was Zeke. They had words, and it got out of hand. He apologized and feels awful about it. But this shit,” Faith said, looking around the room as a Diamondback brother walked over, standing behind her, giving her support as she continued.
“Hope’s not going to walk away from him, Balthazar.
She truly loves him. And my gut is telling me Chapman loves her too. ”
Ghost looked at Faith, then at Hope, then at Chapman still lying on the floor. Something in his expression crumbled. “Fuck,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Fuck is right.”
Reaper stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. “Alright. Everyone, shut up and listen. This situation is fucked six ways from Sunday, but we’re gonna handle it like men, not animals.”
He pointed at Ghost. “You. Sit down and get your face cleaned up.”
Then at me. “You. Stop starting fights.”
Then at Chapman. “And you. Get your ass off the floor.”
I moved to help Chapman up, but Hope was already there, sliding her arm under his shoulders and helping him sit. He leaned heavily against her, his breathing labored.
“Chapman Moore,” Reaper said, his voice formal now. “You stand accused of violating...”
“He has my permission.”
All heads turned to the door where Shadow stood, with Monk and Angel behind him. “I give my blessing.”
“Thank fuck,” Reaper sighed, dropping his head to his chest before he took a deep breath and looked around the room. “Anybody got a fucking problem, speak now.”
Silence.
“Alright then.” Reaper turned and walked toward the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “Somebody get these idiots cleaned up. And somebody call a damn doctor. Chapman looks like he got hit by a truck.”
As the tension in the room finally started to ease, I kneeled beside my brother again. “You good?”
Chapman looked at me, then at Hope, then back at me. Despite the blood and the bruises and the pain, he smiled.
“Yeah, Dig,” he said quietly. “I’m good.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, careful not to jar his ribs. “Good. Because Stella’s gonna want to meet your girl. And trust me, you do not want to keep that woman waitin’.”
Chapman laughed, then winced. “Noted.”
I stood up and walked over to where Stella was standing near the door, watching everything with her arms crossed.
“You done playing hero?” she asked.
“For now,” I said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “Glad you suggested we come.”
“Somebody had to save your dumbass brother,” she said, but her voice was soft. “Besides, I like Hope. She’s got spine.”
I looked back at Chapman and Hope, sitting together on the floor, her hand still holding his. Despite the blood, the violence, and the broken rules, they looked right together.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “She does.”
And as I watched my brother lean his head against Hope’s shoulder, I knew that whatever came next, he would be okay, because he had Hope.