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“Maybe we should send them out first?” Pope suggests.
“No, we’re not going to give them a chance to double cross us. Pope, I want you to keep your eye on them while we deal with this. Anything concerns you, let me know.”
Outside, the sky is darkening with the impending storm we’re due, which matches my mood. My club is under the strain of not having to bury another brother, and I feel the weight of it on my shoulders.
Straddling my bike, I’m just about to switch on the engine when the gates open, with Mitch yelling my name. Climbing off, I head for the black Toyota driving in.
I don’t recognise it until it comes to a stop and Libby jumps out, running around to the passenger side.
“Can I get some help?” she yells, and I’m moving before she can ask twice.
Dex groans as she tries to help him out, but I swiftly move her out of the way and help him myself. Ricky comes over as well, flanking Dex’s other side.
Helping him into the bar, we sit him on the couch, the smell of his blood filling my nose.
He’s alive, and that’s what counts. Libby shoves me out the way, not caring who I am, and drags the small table closer so she can sit before him.
“I need towels, warm water, and a bottle of tequila.”
I jerk my chin for Sparky to get on it and ask, “You wanna tell me how you’re here, brother?”
“Ask my old lady,” he says, wincing from the pain.
Focusing on Libby, I raise my brows, letting her know I’m not so patiently waiting for an explanation.
“I was in town, picking up supplies, when I saw through an open door my husband, tied to a chair. It was only a glance, but I’d know him anywhere. I went to call you, but I left my phone at home, being as I was pissed with him for not making dinner last night. I waited for you and the club, but you didn’t come. Something got their attention and they left, so I paid for a room and set fire to it, knowing the manager would check them all while waiting for the fire trucks. He found Dex, and then I drove him here.”
My brother heaves himself forward, even though it causes him pain, and kisses his old lady. Even through the blood and bruises, cuts and welts, his adoration for his wife is still as clear as day.
“I told him it was you who killed Danny.”
I close my eyes to the small gasp, and turn to face Grace.
“You killed Danny?”
I just stare at her. Does she honestly think I’d admit out loud to her about who I’ve killed and who I haven’t?
“I just want to know he suffered.”
“Now that, I can tell you. He suffered for days before he took his last breath.”
A frosty smile spreads across her face, so menacing, it has me stepping away from her. The darkness that has surrounded her since she showed up lightens, and I wonder if we’re so different after all.
She walks into Aaron’s arms, who nods once at me before kissing the top of her head. Her back shudders as she starts to laugh hysterically.
“She killed her own father, spent ten years in prison, took down a club with her fed lover, and it’s the death of Danny that has her laughing like a maniac?” Sparky whispers after handing Libby everything she needs.
I don’t care for her life’s story. I prefer the here and now, and what I can see in front of me. I don’t underestimate anyone anymore, and these two are no different.
For all her crimes, the fed, as clean as he should be, probably isn’t, and the fact he didn’t arrive with a shitload of agents to back him tells me he’s prepared to get his hands dirty by any means necessary to save his son. It’s a shame that they’re all going to die in order for me to keep my club safe.
“Cas,” Dex chokes out as Libby sponges down his cheek. Dropping down on the end of the couch, I wait for him to speak, but his eyes drift closed as the fucker passes out.
“What now?” Grace asks, her manic episode over.
“Now it’s time to deal with Bert without anyone in our way. We don’t have to watch our step.”
Turning to Slade, I say, “Find out where he is now. With the motel crawling with officers, he won’t go back there.”
