Chapter 21
Hellfire
The compound was chaotic and busy and had been since the Wyoming guys had arrived to help us out.
That was four days ago. The preparations were made.
The plan was in place, and we were going after the mafia in two days.
It didn't matter that they were holed up in Amato's fortress in the hills.
We were done fucking around. Lockout had given Amato the chance to face us like men and finish this and the coward had chosen to hide away.
We weren't idiots. They were making their own preparations. If we waited too long, Amato was going to make good on his threats to come after those we loved. We couldn’t have that.
With our thirteen Berserker’s Rage brothers here we were a little better off with numbers, though still outmatched by The Italians.
We were better trained, however. The Wyoming Chapter of Berserker’s Rage MC was former military as well.
They were damn near a perfect match with our chapter.
Former or current military, well trained, dangerous as fuck, and vigilantes in their own right.
They didn't protect a city the way we did, but they always stepped up whenever someone needed help.
Toxic had brought this club into our lives, but Lock had met with the Berserker’s Rage president, as well as a few of their other chapter presidents and he was more than happy to be allies with them.
I hadn't met too many of the men yet, but if Lock had approved, I knew we'd get along.
We had too much in common not to. And soon, we'd be going into battle together, cementing our bonds as brothers and friends.
Nothing showed you a man's character faster than fighting beside them.
I made my way through the clubhouse, looking around as I went. Lock waved me over to where my brothers were sitting, and drinking, with our Wyoming friends.
"Have you seen Butcher?" Lock asked. "I was going to send him with some of the guys to show them the area we'd be in during the fight, but I couldn't find him."
Frowning, I thought back. "I haven't seen him at all today... or yesterday."
Everyone around the table was shaking their heads, indicating they hadn’t seen him either.
Hush sighed. "I haven't seen Toxic either.
Though, I probably couldn't tell you who I have seen over the last few days.
" He had dark circles under his eyes. Taking care of a newborn and a wife in postpartum had a way of wearing a man out.
Despite that, Hush was walking around with a huge grin on his face most days.
It was so out of character for him, but fuck did it make me happy to see him get everything he deserved.
"Do you think-" Priest cut himself off and we all followed his gaze.
Toxic strolled into the clubhouse…alone.
My eyes narrowed and I exchanged a look with Smokehouse and Ricochet.
We all wore matching grim expressions. Toxic and Butcher had been in-fucking-separable for over a year now.
Where one went, the other followed. Shit, I was surprised they didn't fucking room up together, that's how close their friendship had grown.
"Where's Butcher?" Lock asked as soon as Toxic walked up. He didn't even give the man a chance to grab the beer that Karma had hurried over with before asking.
"Butcher?" Toxic took the beer and smiled at the new girl.
She blushed prettily and gave him doe eyes.
It wasn't hard to see she was infatuated with Toxic.
It didn't seem to matter to her that he was twice her age.
She was twenty and Toxic was in his forties.
It didn't matter to the sweet butt; she'd been hanging all over him from the moment she’d stepped inside the club a few weeks ago.
"Yeah, Toxic," Lockout said, "Butcher. Where the fuck is he?"
It wasn't like Lock kept close tabs on us. We were free to come and go as we pleased, but Butcher was different. He needed to be kept under control, especially in a time like this. Given Butcher's past, he was prone to take the initiative as he saw fit. Usually with disastrous results. The upside for us was it was typically more disastrous to our enemies than us. That didn’t mean we didn’t need to keep an eye on him.
"He's around...somewhere," Toxic said with a shrug. He took a long pull from the beer, avoiding Lockout's eyes.
"Somewhere?" Lockout's tone was dark. "Where, somewhere?"
While Toxic sputtered through some excuse, probably giving Butcher time to get into whatever trouble he'd come up with, I watched as Pixie did a slow scan of the room. My brother's voices faded out as I watched the prey I'd been waiting for finally make her move.
With everything going on, I knew if my cousin was going to do something sketchy, it'd be now.
Following her around for almost two weeks hadn't gained me any new insights on what she was up to, but the way she was creeping across the club compound now told me that was about to change.
The others could handle finding Butcher.
I had more important things to do, like find out if my cousin was a fucking traitor.
It wasn't hard to keep up with her piece of shit car as she made her way across the city.
Where was she going? Tonight was her night to man the club's bar.
With The Bunker shut down, the sweet butts weren't as busy, but they were still working at our bar inside the clubhouse.
Scarlett, Pixie, and Karma were thrilled to have the Wyoming guys in town, and Sylvia had been taking over more than a few late night shifts as the women kept our allies busy.
Pixie was pissed because none of the men would give her any attention since she was my cousin.
She was left helping Sylvia man the bar most nights while the other girls got their pick of single bikers.
Lockout had done his due diligence before allowing Karma to hang around our club.
She was a little blonde who was quiet and soft spoken and thanks to Rip looking into her background we knew she had no connections with either The Italians or Fremont.
The same couldn't be said about my cousin.
My worst fears were coming true as I hung back and watched her pull into an empty parking lot in Oro Valley.
It was late, dark, and suspicious enough to have me looking around for whoever she was meeting.
The fact that I'd picked up on her behavior meant it didn't shock me when Fremont stepped into the halo of light one of the streetlights was casting over the lot.
I watched them speak while gritting my teeth.
I had strict instructions from Lockout. If I was alone, I wasn't to confront Fremont or any mafia she met with.
It was only Fremont here, and though I was fucking raging inside to rip her to shreds, I waited patiently for them to finish before I did anything.
I watched as Fremont left, then followed Pixie home to the little house she rented in Marana.
As soon as she shut the door, I was there, knocking on it. Confronting her in the parking lot was stupid and I wasn’t an idiot. Fremont might have had his stooges there to arrest me. But she didn't know I was coming here. Didn't know she'd fucked up and alerted me of what she was up to.
"Bennett," she said, looking surprised as she opened the door.
I shoved my way into her house, glaring down at her.
"What the fuck have you done, Pixie?" I asked.
She didn't deserve the respect of using the name my uncle had given her.
She wasn't family anymore. Not after seeing her speaking with our enemy.
She was just a fucking whore who hung around our club.
Though, she wouldn't be that for much longer either.
She shut the door behind me, her brows pulling together as she frowned at me. "What do you mean?"
"I saw you," I growled. "I saw you meet with Fremont." I took a step toward her and she flinched back, fear flashing over her face. "You're going to tell me everything you know about him. Everything he's doing. Everything you told him about us."
She shook her head and backed away from me. I followed her until she was pressed against the wall. "I don't know anything," she insisted, her eyes wide. "He just wanted to ask questions about the club."
"Bullshit," I hissed. "You're a fucking rat." I used one hand to pin her collarbone to the wall. It pained me to even fucking touch her, but I didn't want her to slip away before she heard what I had to say.
"No!" she cried out, shaking her head again, tears filling her eyes. She was a good actress. I'd give her that.
"You're done hanging around our club," I told her, my voice hard. "You're done fucking my brothers and causing problems for them. You're finished making trouble for my family.”
Her face screwed up in anger and she shoved at me, but it was like a kitten trying to move a mountain. "You can't do that!" she shrieked.
"I can." Lockout had already given me the authority to deal with her in any way I chose. "You should just be grateful all I’m doing is kicking you out." We’d work on getting whatever information from her that we could, but she wasn’t stepping foot inside our clubhouse again.
Her mouth gaped open like a fish. "You wouldn't do that. I'm your cousin."
"You're nothing to me anymore. The only reason I put up with you for so long was because of Uncle Hal. I’m done, Pixie. You’re not family anymore." I released her and stepped back.
She stared at me, tears streaming down her face, but there was a calculating look in her eyes.
One that shouldn't be there. Her expression turned smug, alerting me a split second before the creaking floorboards did.
It was too late. Spinning around, I raised my hand, but the gun hit me in the temple before I could deflect it.
The man didn't stop with one hit, he kept going until I was on the ground, vision swimming as I fought to hold onto consciousness.
Pixie squatted down beside me. "You don't have a fucking say in my life, Bennett. You never have. I'll help your enemies tear your club apart by the fucking seams for the way you've all treated me."
"Fucking bitch," I muttered, trying to shove my way to my feet.
"Enough of this bullshit," someone said from behind her. "We don't have time for this. His fucking crew could be right behind him."
Something hit my head again and this time I couldn't keep the blackness from overpowering me.