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We have a fucking mole, but we just don't know in which club, but my gut is saying it's mine, and I think I know who—someone we thought we fucking vetted.
Sighing, I climb off my bike before heading inside. Helena instantly grins at seeing me before pulling her low-cut top down even further, hoping to gain my attention when it just pisses me off because the club whores know to dress respectably during the day due to the kids. I ignore her, only giving Sniper a look, who nods knowingly; she needs a talking to again about her clothing; I won't have Noah fucking traumatized by her; it's bad enough his mother is Jingles. Helena scowls at me for the lack of attention, but I don't care. I haven't touched her since that one time two years ago—the worst mistake of my fucking life because I could have had my old lady right now.
I walk past the bar and Celine, only giving her a head nod in acknowledgment and respect because we had been fucking for a while. She furrows her brows at me as I make my way to church, lifting my finger in a circle while whistling loudly, causing several chairs to scrape across the floor. Liam, one of our prospects, stands near the church door, ready to take our phones, while Levi stays behind the bar. At this moment in time, they're the only two that I currently trust; Liam is my cousin whom I have grown up with, and Levi is best friends with Sniper; they have been friends since first grade, but the rest, after the ambush, I don't fully trust; again, though, I do have in mind who it could be.
"Snake?" Celine calls, but I just put my hand up to shush her. I need to tell her we're not going to happen anymore, and then I have a certain redhead to see, but first, I have church and a shitshow to sort out.
I pass my phone to Liam, who gives me a serious nod, already knowing about the ambush. His dad, my uncle on my Momma's side, is the local sheriff. Uncle Donald and Axel VP's uncle David were also on the call. He's the sheriff of their town in Parkerville, roughly an hour from here on the other side of Dallas.
I sit as the rest of the brothers file in, including the old-timers. Tech will be watching the old-timers faces. I hope I'm wrong and that one of my brothers, a man I see as an uncle, is not our traitor, but my gut is telling me Clipper is our mole. He used to have a crush on Hairy's mother and treat Hairy like a son despite having one of his own whom he ignored.
After the Untamed had killed Hairy for his crimes, we watched Clipper like a fucking hawk, and not once did he step out of line. He acted just as disgusted as us, finding out the shit Hairy had done and the sickening shit the bastard's mother had done, yet something inside me was telling me to watch him instead of the others as I let them know what had happened three days ago, what should have been a simple trade-off.
When I said we, as a club, have trust issues, I wasn't fucking joking.
As the last brother took a seat and the door closed, I banged the gavel before standing. I look at each of my brothers around the table, every one of them fucking pissed, already aware of the situation before I look at each old-timer. My dad and Bullet look ready to blow.
I clear my throat, trying to hide my rage, "Brothers, it would seem we have a traitor in the mix."
The brothers around the table growl, already in the know, along with my father and Bullet. All of the old-timers, except for one, stand in outrage. Clipper, a man I saw as an uncle, who used to take Hairy, and me jet skiing, freezes in fucking fear before making eye contact with me, his brown eyes showing guilt when he notices the bandage around my left arm. One by one, as the brothers start to calm down, they all look to see where I'm looking, and each one sits back in their chairs in shock.
Mother fucker was good; I'll give him that.
I keep my eyes on Clipper as I speak, "Three days ago, what should have been a simple drop, helping our allies out, Breaker, Doc, I, and two of our prospects were ambushed. Not all of us came back in one piece." Clipper flinches, thinking I mean my arm, "Not only did I get shot, but the Rebels had lost one of their prospects; three shots to their chest; the kid was only eighteen." Clipper sucks in a breath as my Sargent in arms, Breaker, and my enforcer, Tats, both stand-up, walking over to Clipper, who doesn't take his now teary eyes off me. The tears soon fell at my next words, "We had unfortunately lost Billy, who decided like a fucking idiot to shove me out of the way when I tried to shield him. I got shot in the arm for my efforts, while Billy, a nineteen-year-old boy, a club brat, got a shot to the head."
Clipper cries out in pain—his son is dead because of him.
"NO, NO, NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO." He wails as Tats and Breaker both grip an arm, and I walk over to him, getting into his face before gripping his jaw. "Who fucking else are you working with? Who else in my fucking club is trying to continue Hairy's sick fucking games for a pack of lies, huh? Who else, Clipper, succeeded in killing your fucking son?"
He sobs and tries to shake his head, "I-I'm sorry, so sorry. I-I loved Hairy like a s-son; I-I didn't know the Untamed had asked y-you to do the drop."
I squeeze his jaw, "Hairy had fucking nearly killed their club princess when she was only a child; he kidnapped and held prisoner one of their men on lies. HE FUCKING ANALLY RAPED AN INNOCENT GIRL!"
He flinches at my shout before denying it, "N-no, he wouldn't. Y-you just said that so us brothers wouldn't be-be pissed at you for-for allowing them to kill him when he was our traitor, we-we could have made him see his error."
I growl fucking, hating that I have to do this. I violently show his face back before saying, "Tech," coldly. Flame and Star gave us permission to do this a while ago. I fucking hate that I have to show the footage, but it seems some brothers need to see something fucking horrific to see what a monster Hairy truly was.
Without a word, Tech gets up and walks over to the wide screen on the side wall, placing a USB in the side before he finally speaks, "What we're about to show you does not leave this room, if it does…" He lets the sentence hang in the air before I finish his words, my eyes staying on Clippers as I rasp, "You'll no longer be a brother; you will lose your patch."
The brothers suck in a breath before Tech plays the video, and my heart fucking hurts for the pain Star was put through and how fucking brave and strong she is.
I don't turn around. I stay with my back to the TV. When I first watched it, I destroyed my office. I can't watch that shit again. The thought of something like that happening to my spitfire burns with rage. I see the moment in Clipper's eyes as everything comes to a head for him.
Hairy had just smirked at the camera as he ripped Star apart.
He shakes his head several times as I tilt mine. He had his own son killed for that piece of shit. My anger starts to heighten, and I know I won't be able to keep a lid on it. Normally, when we torture someone, we take them to our outdoor chamber. It's soundproof and has an indoor furnace to burn our prey, but I don't have any patience after the shitshow these past three days. I grip Clipper's shitty haircut that he does himself, long and short bits throughout, and sneer, "Who the fucking else is against our club?"
He shakes his head or tries to but winces at my grip, "It- it doesn't matter anymore; they won't be a problem. I-I've seen the proof; m-my son died for that monster; oh fuck, what did-did I do?" He sobs again, and I make eye contact with my dad, who shakes his head.
Clipper is too far gone with grief to tell us who's working with him, and I have to bite in a growl of frustration before I grab my knife out of my biker boot. Gripping it hard, I slice the fucker's throat from ear to ear. His eyes widen in shock, tears glistening on his cheeks, and he starts to choke on his own blood. I don't look away, keeping my eyes on him as life drains.
My dad sighs, "Great, now the chapel is going to stink of bleach for a month."
The men snort, but I don't react; my rage is boiling over, and there's only one person I want to see right now, and she better fucking be ready for me.
Taking a deep breath, I rasp out, "First things first. Find the fucking traitors. It could be one, it could be two; keep your fucking ears to the ground." The brothers all bang a fist on something hard, "Second thing," I hold my arms out after dropping my blade near Clippers feat, knowing a prospect; most likely, Liam will clean it for me and ask seriously, "Do I have any blood on me?"
Most men snort, some cough to cover a laugh, ignoring the dead body at the feet of a man we thought we could trust, "No, son, you don't." Bullet is the one who answers me. He sounds calm, but he knows I'm ready to blow and need to see Sarah. Despite what happened two years ago, I needed to convince her to give me a chance.
