AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m done with the pleasantries, done with the fake fucking smile, and done with the Prez who takes no responsibility for my father’s death.
If this afternoon wasn’t in honor of my father, I wouldn’t fucking be here. But this is bigger than me, and it’s bigger than the honored death that befell him. It’s about his legacy, my legacy, and the club's legacy.
“I’m sure if you offered a wink to one of the whores, they would take you inside. It serves as a distraction as well as an excuse to get the fuck out of here,” Emmett whispers. It almost sounds tempting, but I have zero interest in any of the girls in this place, not even enough to get a semi.
There’s too much rage coursing through my veins today, outweighing every other feeling or emotion that teases my mind. Fuck, anger is all I’ve felt for the past twelve months, but nothing has been as intense as today.
It’s like I’m right back in that room again, my clothes drenched, soaking me through to the bone as my gun weighs heavy in my hand. Vivid memories assault me – the smell of cigarettes, the bullet in my father’s head. The night replays in my mind without my approval. I can hear the gun ringing out, the beating of the rain outside. All of it.
I’ve made progress since that night, each dot connecting me more and more back to Banner, and somehow the Ice Reapers. Still, something stays amiss. Without real evidence or proof of Banner’s actions in his death, I have nothing to bring to the table.
I’m close, I can feel it. I just need a little more time.
“Are we still taking Euro with us to meet with the informant?” Axel asks, the words slightly muffled around the cigarette between his teeth.
I crack my neck before nodding, but any response is interrupted as a fist knocks on the table. “Boys, Prez is going to make a speech and he wants everyone over there.”
My shoulders tense at Eric’s words, but the glaze in his eyes intrigues me, so I opt to alleviate the stress from my own body to focus on him instead. The last thing I want to listen to is this man’s bullshit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Yet.
“Everything okay, Pops?” Emmett frowns at his father as he rises from his seat, and the rest of us follow suit, falling into step with Eric.
“It’s all good, son. I’m just… all of this would piss Brian off, yet here we are, celebrating his life like this anyway.”
I grip his shoulder firmly with a tight squeeze, shaking my head in disbelief as I indicate toward where Banner stands with the rest of our men and their old ladies. There’s even a few whores mixed into the crowd too. “No truer words have ever been spoken, Eric, but we all know this isn’t really about him. It never is. It’s about the club. In the depths of the night, when we’re all alone, we’ll remember him the way he wanted.”
A small smile creeps up at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t straighten the frown lines on his face. “That’s with a glass of bourbon in one hand and a hand-rolled smoke in the other.”
My solemn smile matches his, but Gray cuts in front of the group, distracting everyone as he pouts. “But if I have a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other, where’s my cock going?”
Emmett clips him around the ear without a word of response, but my friend's words did exactly what they were intended for; breaking the moment, cooling my heated emotions, and lightening the mood.
Eric’s right hand crosses over his body to pat mine, before he steps away. “One day that boy will learn that his cock wasn’t made for his hand; it was made for a cunt or a cunt’s mouth. Either way, both hands are fine where they are.”
I smirk at the cheeky fucker as he winks, causing Emmett to groan, before he leaves to go stand with the older members of the club. His wispy gray hair still manages to get in a ponytail at the back of his head, and he wears that fucker with pride.
The image of our club's emblem stitched into the back of his cut reminds me why I’m here and what my purpose is. The skull and pistol combo, edged in lime green, mean everything to me. It represents family and home. It also forces me to turn my attention to the Prez as he moves to stand on the boulder that randomly sits in our yard.
“We’re all here today to both celebrate and mourn,” Prez starts, raising his beer to the sky in salute as everyone goes quiet, waiting for him to proceed. “We may have lost our VP on this day twelve months ago, but his legacy lives on with his son, Ryker, as our new Vice President.”
I manage to tuck my hands into my pockets before they clench with frustration. My grin widens. Pride shines in the eyes of the club members as they all turn to look at me, reminding me that there are more people I love here, more people I consider family, and more people I will forever protect.
His words ring true. A lot has changed since my father died. Everyone thinks I accepted the role offered to me from Prez to honor my legacy, but what they don’t know is I’m more set on keeping my friends close, and my enemies even closer. It may be a cliche, but it’s far too fitting for this moment. Nothing will ever be the same again. I’ll make sure of it.
Prez’s words fade into the background as I face him to show how united we are as a club, as leaders.
Am I two-faced? No, I’m just biding my time. I want the whole truth, and nothing but the truth when I bring this man to Church and watch him burn in front of my brothers. I want to serve justice in honor of my father, and my time is coming. I just have to be a little more patient before I put a bullet through his skull. A complete mirror image to my father’s.
A nudge from my right has me side-eying Axel as he nods ahead, making me pay attention to the shit tumbling from Prez’s mouth.
“As a club, we are stronger together, taking all odds on survival, while we deal with our enemies. We will bring justice to the Ruthless Brothers by bringing the Ice Reapers down in honor of our late VP, and I have devised a plan that I’m going to share in Church this evening.” He holds his arms out as excitement zips through the crowd.
That’s news to me, but as I spy the older members of the club, I notice Billy smirks knowingly.Does he know? Was he in on other things too?It could explain why he wasn’t in attendance that night.
Prez tips his beer bottle in my direction. “Ryker, we shall—”
I don’t recognize the telltale whoosh that whips through the air until I watch in slow motion as a bullet pierces Prez’s skull. Before I can even blink, the metal has penetrated his head from the left and exited to the right as the screams ring in my ears from the women and children present.
He drops, the life leaving his body too quickly for my liking, and his head smashes into the boulder, splattering his brain matter and blood even further.
