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“The scum who did this to you, did they say who they were?”
She nods. “The… Three.” Her voice is raspy from the breathing tube she had in.
“That’s what they called themselves?”
She nods.
“The doctors tell you what they cut into your forehead?”
Again, she nods.
“They say anything while they were doing that to you?”
“They said they won’t stop…” She struggles to speak. “Until they’ve made an example of all the… sinners.”
Jack asks, “Can you remember anything about them that might help us identify them. Any jewelry? Distinctive marks? Tattoos?”
“One had a tattoo on the top of his hand. It looked like a clock face… but instead of numbers, there was the letter H in the center and… the number two.” Her throat works as she struggles to swallow, her breath gurgled and hoarse. “And the number eight.”
“Sounds like a symbol,” Jack says.
I open Google on my phone. “It is.”
I bring up an image and show Katey. “Is this the tattoo?”
She sobs. “Yes.”
I show Jack and Jethro. “It’s the symbol for Azrael. The angel of death.”
“How’d you know that?” Jethro asks.
“Prison. It gave me a lot of reading time.”
Katey turns to look at Jack. “They’re… fucking… evil. Someone has to… stop them.”
“Darlin’, that’s exactly what we plan to do.”
Her breathing is rough. “Why are you helping me?”
Jack crouches down. “I have a daughter your age, so when your daddy came to us and said he’s going to find who did this, I agreed to get the Kings involved. I don’t want you to worry, okay, darlin’, because the psychos who did this aren’t going to be wasting oxygen for too much longer. Now, I ain’t gonna lie to you, you’ve got some journey ahead of you, that’s for real. But you’re gonna get through it, one day at a time. You got me?” He looks at Jethro. “Anything she needs, and you can’t get it, you come see me.”
Respect passes between the two presidents.
Jack stands, but Katey reaches for his hand. “I’m the only one who has survived one of their attacks.”
“That’s right.”
“Are they going to… come after me again?”
“You’re safe. Your daddy ain’t gonna let anyone hurt you. And if you get scared, I want you to know that it’s not just your daddy’s club behind you, but you’ve got the entire Kings of Mayhem Motorcycle Club behind you too. You got that, kid?”
It’s late when we leave, but I don’t want to head back to the clubhouse. I feel restless. Worked up. Seeing that kid beat up and broken on the hospital bed makes me want to punch something. I need to hit the gym, pound the bag for an hour or two to work off some of this restless energy. But as I ride toward Oscar’s Gym, I suddenly veer off and pull up to Rory’s apartment.
I fucking need to touch her.
Taste her.
Get fucking lost in her.
