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And so I leaned in real fucking close, so the asshole could see the calm before the storm. “This is for her mom.” I plunged the blade into his side. He grunted in pain. “This is for all the shit you put Poppy through.” I pulled the blade out and stabbed him in the other side. He started coughing up blood, splatters of the red, viscous fluid covering my neck and white T-shirt. “And this, you motherfucker… this is for the girl I love.” I stood and brought that blade right across his throat, slicing it open, watching as he struggled, trying to get away, trying to gasp for breath.
Henry widened his eyes as much as he could, given how swollen they were, and as he stared at me, pleading without being able to say anything, all I did was stand there and watch him die.
And when it was done, we all stood there in silence, no one moving or breathing. The silence that filled the room was deafening, but there was also this release that seemed to fill me, to know what I’d done was for the best. This wasn’t the first time I’d killed a man. This wouldn’t be the last time either. But this moment felt different. Taking this life meant more than just vengeance or anything like that.
I did this out of love.
“Let’s get this fucker out of here. Have the prospect come out here and clean up the blood and piss. Have them get rid of the rest of the shit too.” Although this was private property and we had the cops in our pocket, I sure as fuck didn’t want or need incriminating evidence just lying around. Weapons used, the rope and damn chair Henry was currently using. Yeah, all that shit had to be destroyed.
“You got it,” Shyne said and pulled out his phone to make the call.
I stared at Henry’s lifeless form strapped to the chair, the overhead light flickering because it was on its last leg, just like this fucker had been seconds before. I untied the ropes that bound his arms and legs, took a step back as he slumped to the blood-splattered concrete floor, and felt pride at the knowledge the prick was finally gone, that I could go back and tell Poppy she didn’t ever have to worry again.
Shyne and Boss grabbed one of Henry’s arms each and dragged him out of the warehouse, tossing the body in the back of the van. And then we all climbed in, everyone silent as Shyne drove us to a strip of property owned by the city, acreage that was a wilderness preserve.
Property that would never be touched.
And one hell of a place to hide a dead body.
Boss tried to get the fucker out of the back first, but I placed a hand on the patch’s shoulder, stopping him. “I got this, brother. Let me take his ass to the hole.”
Shyne was already digging the hole with Renner, both men working fast and quietly as they got the unmarked grave ready.
I pulled Henry’s body out from the back of the van then dragged him with one arm over the rock and debris-covered ground. The scent of his blood coating the air was still strong.
“We’ll need to have the prospects clean the fuck out of the van and get the scent of blood, piss, and shit out of there,” Shyne said as he leaned against a tree and lit up a cigarette.
I let go of Henry’s arm and leaned against a tree myself, watching the men work, their low grunts of hard work surrounding us.
And then it was done, the hole dug, and all of them standing there waiting for me to make the next move.
I turned and looked down at Henry, the grisly display of his battered and bloody face visible through the break in the tree line where the moon filtered down. “Fuck you, you motherfucker,” I said and walked around so I could use my boot to push his body into the hole. He landed face-first in the dirt, and before I had to tell the guys, they were filling up the hole.
Fifteen minutes later, we all stood around the freshly filled-in hole, the unmarked grave where this piece of shit motherfucker would rot for the rest of existence.
And as I smoked my joint, as I took a swig from the bottle of whiskey being passed around by my brothers-in-arms, all I felt was relief that I had done this for my girl, that from this point on, she’d never have to feel scared or upset or hurt.
“Come on, boys.” I took one last hit before handing the roach off to Shyne. “Let’s get back to the clubhouse and forget about the messy side of this life.” I looked at each member, knowing they’d always have my back, that we’d give our lives for each other if need be. “Let’s drink, let off steam, and relish in the fact that we survived another day.”
But all I kept thinking about was Poppy, going to her, and really feeling alive. Because without her in my life, that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter Sixteen
Poppy
It was late, so late I should’ve been blissfully passed out, but I couldn’t sleep knowing Butcher was out there, knowing what he was doing. Would he be okay? I knew he could handle himself, knew he was even more dangerous than Henry, but the truth was I didn’t know how these things would go. I didn’t know how all of this would end.
He’d seemed pretty confident that things would go exactly how he planned them, but I couldn’t help but think that something could happen to him. He could get hurt; he could… die.
And I was surprised at how powerful those emotions came rushing into me at the thought that he might get hurt, at the thought of losing him. We really didn’t know a whole lot about each other, but I knew enough about him. I knew enough about how I felt.
I knew what I wanted with him, knew I wanted him in my life. He made me feel safe and protected. He made me feel alive and wanted. He made me feel like there was actual… hope.
I lay back on his bed, smelling him, the scent surrounding me. I closed my eyes and brought the blanket to my nose, inhaling deeply. I could hear music in the main part of the clubhouse, the bass bumping through the walls, almost shaking the pictures that hung on the plaster. And then I heard the sound of vehicles approaching.
I sat up in bed, my heart racing, my palms sweating. I wanted to leave the room, but I was too afraid, too scared of what I’d see, find. So I just sat there on the edge of the mattress, my feet hanging off the edge, my toes brushing against the cold wooden floor.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, waiting for him to come in, staring at that bedroom door. But then I heard footsteps, my heart jumping into my throat, everything in me filling with this anticipation, nervousness… excitement. I swallowed as I saw the knob turn, as the door was pushed open.
