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Finally, Dealer came out of the building, tech bag in hand, and climbed in the back of the SUV. “We’re good. It’s all been wiped clean.”
“You can do that? Just make it so we weren’t even there?” Nate asked.
“We can do whatever the fuck I want,” Mayhem answered, looking over at Nate.
“Let’s roll,” Dealer said, and Mayhem cranked the engine and left Monstello’s behind. He didn’t know what in the fuck would happen as a result from this, and in fact, nothing might happen.
Sal could be dead in some alley, and they’d killed any witnesses. They would be clean on this. But of course, that’s not how their lives worked. Shit always seemed to happen at the worst fucking times.
But the club would get through this. They had each other’s backs, would kill and die for one another, and that’s what mattered.
What consumed him now was the fact he wanted to get to Butters and tell her how much she meant to him.
He hoped he wouldn’t be left looking like an asshole with his dick in his hand after it was said and done.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Butters had bitten her thumbnail almost all the way down, feeling anxious as news came through that things had gone very badly with the drop. She hadn’t been able to get a hold of Nate either, and that had her nerves strained even more.
She didn’t know what was going on, and aside from a clipped phone call from Mayhem to Claire telling her they were on their way back and bad shit had gone down, no one knew anything.
She tried calling Nate again, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
“Any luck, hun?” Claire asked, walking up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Butters hadn’t known any of these people but for a few days, but she felt close to Claire. The other woman was soft and sweet and cared about others. Her boyfriend, or old man, or whatever in the hell they labeled each other, was over by the bar.
He’d stayed behind, apparently, to make sure everyone was okay at the club.
Big was his name, and he fit that title perfectly due to the height and muscle mass he sported.
“Not really.” Butters didn’t try to lie.
Claire looked to the window Butters had just been staring out of and breathed out roughly. “Yeah, me neither.”
There was more silence, more tension, and her worry escalated even more.
“You think someone got seriously hurt?” When Claire didn’t answer, she looked over at her. There was strain on the woman’s face.
“I’m sure someone did, but we won’t know anything until they come back.”
As soon as she’d been dropped off at the club by Mayhem, the gossip had started. Well, not really gossip as everyone pretty much just came up and asked her about what was going on.
Apparently, one of the club whores had overheard the patches speaking about what was going down tonight, or part of it, and that had the rumors starting.
Then, the sound of squealing tires pierced her thoughts, and she looked out the window again, seeing Mayhem’s SUV pulling to a stop. Dealer and Mayhem got out of the vehicle, but when a really beaten-up Nate crawled out of the back of the SUV, Butters felt her heart drop to her stomach.
“Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her mouth with her hand. She rushed out the front door, met Nate halfway, searching his body for the injuries, and felt her throat tighten at all of the wounds he had.
“I’m fine, Renee.”
“You’re not.” She was trying to stay strong in the eye of all the chaos, but she couldn’t even breathe right now. But her fear and worry was slowly starting to get masked by her anger.
Her brother had put everyone in danger.
“This is your fault, Nate. You could have gotten everyone killed, including yourself.” She felt her face heat from her anger and saw her brother’s eyes widen. She’d never really yelled at him and hadn’t blamed him outright when he’d been so selfish. But that’s exactly what he’d been.
“I’m sorry, Renee. I was trying to make things right.”
She shook her head, not even wanting to hear it. “Stop with the excuses. You’re selfish and have put yourself, me, and now this club in danger because you can’t fucking control yourself.” She was raising her voice, unable to stop herself. She was aware people were watching, but she didn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Renee,” he said again but in a smaller voice.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again, Nate was already walking inside, and the rest of the crew who had come outside were walking past her, their faces downcast.
She looked over at Mayhem, saw he was unharmed, and felt relief fill her. She moved over to him, not knowing what to say, how to respond. “You’re okay.” Butters looked all over his body but didn’t see any wounds.
