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Shane was staring at Smith, the haunted look still in his eyes. I asked him if he was okay. He exhaled and looked at me.
“No. But I’m gonna be. I need to be. For her.”
I nodded, my respect for him solidified.
“You’re always welcome to join us. The Untouchables could use a guy like you.”
He smiled a little at that.
“Thanks, man. I need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do next.” He looked at Smith again while he wept and sniveled. He was a lot less threatening now. He’d had a hell of a time hurting a fly, let alone a human being. “I’m going to start with taking care of my woman.”
“That’s a good plan,” I said, slapping his back.
“Guys, I need to call him an ambulance. Unless we want him to bleed out,” Connor said as he scratched his chin. “I guess that could take days. After a manhunt.”
“Unless the rats come out and start chewing on him,” Mason offered helpfully. Smith started crying a little harder. “Should I do the other leg?”
It was Shane who said no.
“It’s enough. We can never pay him back for what he did, but the rest of his life is going to be miserable. He won’t be able to hurt anyone. He’s done.”
I nodded.
“It’s enough.”
Connor nodded in agreement.
“It’s enough.”
Mason stepped forward. So did Preacher, still holding the bar.
“It’s enough,” they echoed, one by one.
“Give me that,” I said. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“Wipe it off first.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
“You guys take off. I’ve got it from here. I heard him confess to at least one murder. That and any evidence at his house will be enough to put him away for life.”
We all knew what Connor was talking about. He’d said he kept Shane’s little brother’s eyes. I was extremely fucking creeped out by that.
“Everybody, go home,” he added. “You go to the hospital, Shane.”
Shane nodded.
“Yeah. I’ll see you guys around.” He stared at each of us, one by one. “Thank you.”
“You’re one of us now, Shane,” Mason said. “You’ll see us real fucking soon.”
“Yeah, our women are all friends now. Get used to us,” Conn added.
I slapped his back as we walked out together.
“Hope you like Sunday barbecues.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Shane
The wind stung my eyes as I rode hell for leather toward the hospital. Toward her. My home. My salvation. My Parker.
She is mine, dammit. No one will ever touch her again. Hurt her. Hell, I don’t want anyone to even look at her.
She had done the impossible. She’d changed me. And I thanked my lucky stars for it.
I’d been an angry, bitter, lonely man who nearly destroyed himself trying to protect something he couldn’t. It was too late to save my brother. I couldn’t bring him back. I could just take care of the living.
I hadn’t gotten my vengeance. Not the way I’d imagined it all those sleepless nights. I’d had years of them to plot and plan. I had recreated the gory mess he’d made of so many bodies in my mind so many times. It would have been justified. But it would have destroyed what was left of my soul.
It turned out I needed that soul after all. I wanted to be a husband. A daddy. A good man who still didn’t stand a chance of actually deserving her.
So I’d given it all up in an instant. For her.
And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Smith would suffer enough. We had club guys aplenty all over the state pen system. He wouldn’t have an easy day. Not one. And thanks to a little well-deserved brutality, he wouldn’t be able run away when trouble came looking. Hell, it would be a long while before he could hobble away, or even crawl.
Yeah, we’d doled our own form of justice. It was enough, like we all said. It had to be.
Connor had promised that he would get Billy’s remains for me. It sickened me that Smith had kept a part of him. I knew it would take a long time, but I would get his eyes back so I could bury them. I tried to remember that. I was getting him back. I was finally getting the last piece of my brother back.
It was Dante who had killed my brother. I’d known it in my gut all along. Smith had confirmed it with his sick taunting. Smith had cheered him on with Billy and others, then taken over after I took Dante out. I had saved people by killing Dante, I reminded myself. It wasn’t just revenge. And I’d helped to stop Smith along with Cain, Mason, and Connor.
I’d find out later that he’d given Connor the names of other guys who had not participated but looked the other way for numerous murders. My club was about to get taken down in a very public way. This would make the news for sure. The national news.
