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Exhaling smoke that isn’t there, I open my eyes to Kyla dabbing at her tears.
“Do you even know where his body is?”
I have zero answers, and again, I shake my head.
I can make her promise after promise to find him and the men responsible, but it’s not what she wants to hear right now. And besides, she knows me. She knows I won’t stop until I have the answers she needs.
“I can’t believe this. None of it makes sense. He’s a bloody old man, for God’s sake.”
She’s making out like she doesn’t know what her father is capable of, and has been capable of all these years. He hasn’t always been an old man. If we can find out who Mr. Rathbone is, I can more than likely figure this out and tell her exactly why this happened.
“Cas, someone’s at the gate for you.”
Over my shoulder, Zach fills the doorway and I tip my chin. “Who is it?”
“Delivery guy. He’ll only speak to you.”
For fuck’s sake. Heaving myself up, I leave the old ladies to console each other and catch Luca on the couch with a sobbing Victoria lying on his lap, stroking her hair. He doesn’t take notice of me as I pass through and step outside.
For a moment, I hope to see the Kings delivery guy from the other day, but it’s no one I’ve seen before, holding a box in his hands.
“Cas Jackson?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I have no idea. My instructions are to deliver this to you, and you alone.”
Shoving the box toward me, a shiver runs down my spine. It weighs nothing, and the boy is gone before I can open it and see what it is inside.
Tearing at the tape, I open the top and my mouth goes dry. The beating of my heart pounding in my ears drowns out my brothers behind me.
It’s an urn.
Taped to it is a card with four letters scrolled across it: POPE.
These can’t be his ashes, they just can’t be. There’s no time to digest that I’m holding my brother in my hands as the sheriff drives through the gates before the prospect can close them.
“The FBI is pissed they lost their murderer. I’d offer my condolences, but one less of your lot off the streets is a good thing in my book.”
Motherfucker.
“It’s a long drive out here to offer your heartfelt condolences. What the fuck do you want?”
“I can’t work out how your club got mixed up with Richard Rathbone, but with yourbrothertaking him out and having paid the price, I’m expecting trouble to hit our town like never before. I’m letting you know that I’m watching you. If I haven’t got eyes on you, my men will. It’s my mission to rid this town of your club, once and for all.”
He pulls away, and I go to throw the box at him when I remember what’s inside.
What the fuck is going on?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cas
Death is a certainty, no matter what path you walk in life. But riding through the cemetery gates with the club in formation behind me, and Pope’s hearse in front of me, I can’t help but wonder once again what I could have done differently.
As with everyone we’ve buried here before, Pope’s ashes are in a coffin Alannah helped Kyla pick out.
The last three days have been a reminder of what we went through with Oak. No one speaking much, too much drink being consumed, and Pope’s absence leaving a gaping hole in the club. He was the last one who wore the patch from the very beginning, and he never once swayed away from club duty or second-guessed his place with us. If the definition of the Lost Souls could be answered in one word, it would bePope.
