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He heard another low groan before the crackle of the plastic tarp as they used it to cover the man.
Deacon still sat there, his mind blank, his body weary, as the van doors slammed and he listened to the squeak from one of the cart’s wheels as they rolled Warren inside.
A few seconds later, his cousin stood at the van door, staring at him through the open window. “You good?”
No, he wasn’t good. But he would be once this was over.
“Want me to take over?”
No, this was for him to do. To settle the score. To deliver the punishment. To protect the women’s futures.
“First time’s the hardest,” Judge grumbled under his breath.
Coming from his cousin, that comment caught Deacon off guard.
Did Judge know how many times it took until it got easy?
He’d always thought they’d been close. Like real brothers. But maybe Judge had kept secrets from him.
Maybe there were things the man never shared.
“Can’t wait any longer, Deke. Sent Cassie on an errand, but she was suspicious and dug in her heels. Not sure how long she’ll be gone. Don’t want her seein’ any of this shit.” His lips became a flat line. “You get why?”
“Yeah.”
Just like he didn’t want Reese to see it.
To see what they were capable of when pushed.
The women might suspect, but they’d never really know unless they saw it with their own eyes. They’d pretend they’d want to know the truth, but deep down they wouldn’t.
Deacon didn’t want Reese looking at him any different, wondering what else he was capable of.
No, it was better they not know the truth.
Deacon got out of the van and followed Judge through the back door, making sure it was secured and locked.
Thank fuck he, as club treasurer, had the foresight to bring the purchase of this business to the table months ago. Deacon figured the crematorium was a good buy for two solid reasons. The first, the business finances were in the black, making it not only a good investment but a steady stream of scratch into the club account. And the second?
For the reason they would use it today.
He never expected to be the first one to use it for that purpose.
Maybe it was fate.
Whatever it was, this would be the spot where Warren took his last breath.
Easy and Shade stood near the incinerator big enough to cremate large animals. Hogs, cows and even small horses.
They hadn’t used it once since taking over operations from the local vet. Their normal clientele were small animals like dogs and cats. They had three smaller furnaces for those.
But this one... This furnace was the one that had caught his attention when he did a walk-through with the vet. Deacon had seen its potential.
Just like he saw it now.
To obliterate garbage like Warren. A fucking menace to women. Hell, to society in general.
Shade moved to the electronic control panel, which beeped as he pushed a few buttons. Both he and Easy had been trained by the vet himself on the daily operations and use of equipment.
“Open it.”
Shade unlatched the incinerator door and opened it wide, then pulled on a heavy-duty tray that was more of a metal grate set on rollers. A grate ashes would fall through and funnel into a smaller tray below.
The metallic sound of the large tray rolling out made his blood go cold.
He could still deliver Warren to Bianchi. It wasn’t too late.
The interior of the furnace faded away and his vision became clouded by Reilly and Reese’s injuries. The way their faces were battered and bruised.
A strong woman like Reese crying in his arms.
Warren’s threat to find Reilly once he was released from prison.
Deacon’s heart thumped heavily.
He ripped the blue tarp off Warren and said to no one in particular, “Help me load up this piece of shit.”
“Deke, he’s still breathin’,” Judge warned quietly.
“Not for long.”
“Want me to slice his fuckin’ throat first?” Shade asked softly.
Deacon lifted his gaze from Warren, who was barely conscious, to Shade. “You askin’ me or our Sergeant at Arms?” Because, in truth, it would be Judge’s decision.
“You,” Shade answered without even a hesitation.
“Respect, brother, but fuck no. I hope he’s conscious enough to feel the fiery depths of hell.”
Shade’s expression didn’t change. It remained unreadable, which should scare the fuck out of them all.
Thank fuck the man was on their side. No one knew what he was capable of.
No one wanted to find out, either.
Easy and Shade took Warren’s ankles. Judge and Deacon grabbed his shoulders and they lifted the dead weight onto the tray. His cousin tossed the bat next to Warren.
With a strange sense of peace, Deacon watched Shade slide the steel tray back into place inside the incinerator, close the door and latch it tight.
Shade pushed another button and they heard the door lock.
This was it.
The furnace was locked and loaded.
