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He leans forwards, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t breathe without her.” He gasps for breath as if he’s drowning, and my stomach clenches. “They need to die. All of them.”
“Not her,” Blackjack says, his tone hard. I know the VP ain’t immune to what he’s seeing. He and Trick have been friends for a long time, so this has to be ripping him apart.
Trick raises his head from his hands. “Why’d he have to be with Richardson’s fucking bitch?”
Blackjack grimaces, and I can tell his resolve is wavering.
“It wasn’t planned,” he says. “It was a one-night stand in a bar. Neither of them knew who the other was.”
“Her father—”
“Ain’t her,” Howler snaps. “This fuckin’ crusade you’re on is only gonna end one way, Trick… with you dead.”
“Good.” He holds his arms out at his sides. “Bring it the fuck on.”
For some reason, that is the thing that unhinges me completely. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve watched Maisie over the past few months, loving her like she’s my own kid, or if it’s because I’m facing fatherhood again, and although I’ve yet to meet the baby Hope is carrying, I already love it with everything I have.
I cross the room, shoving around Howler. He tries to stop me, but I’m far bigger than my president, and I’m fuelled by a need to hurt Trick.
I grab his dirty shirt, tearing him out of his seat and dragging him upright. He wobbles, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. It’s so strong, it makes my head swim.
“You selfish fuckin’ cunt,” I hiss in his face. “You don’t get to check out. You have a kid. Did you forget about that? You’re lucky you have people willing to give up their time and their life to take care of that child, you arrogant dick. Fuck, you should be glad Mara’s dead.” His face contorts into a mask of rage, but I hold him in place, ignoring the way he swipes at me. “If she could see the worthless piece of shit you’ve become, she’d kill you her fuckin’ self.”
Trick’s whole face crumbles, and I know I’ve hit him where it hurts. No physical pain could be worse than the blow I’ve just delivered.
“Terror…”
Howler’s voice behind me barely penetrates as I shove Trick back, watching him fall over his own feet and collapse in a heap on the floor. He doesn’t try to get up or wipe the blood off his face from Howler’s punch earlier.
He paints a truly pathetic picture, and despite my anger, despite my disgust, I can’t help the twist of my stomach and the pity I feel for him.
He’s lost everything, but he’s also gained everything too. He could have buried them both that day, but the docs were able save his baby. He has a perfectly healthy child still breathing that he hasn’t even asked about.
“I can’t do this.” Trick brings his knees to his chest, and I watch as he falls apart even more in front of my eyes. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m fuckin’ dying without her. And Sophia… fuck, how am I meant to look her in the eye knowing her mother died because of me, because of my life?” He tears his fingers through his hair savagely. “They took her from me. I had to wash her brains off me after…” He chokes on whatever he was going to say.
Fuck, this ain’t nice. I’ve imagined many times wrapping my hands around Trick’s neck and throttling him for the danger he’s brought to the club, to all of us, but this isn’t the vengeance I envisaged. He was less shattered in those dreams.
“I’m tired of askin’ you to come in,” Howler says. “Now, I’m telling you. This ain’t a choice anymore. You either come home or you’re out, Trick. Ain’t playin’ these games anymore. Ain’t turning a blind eye to the shit you’re doing. You want to leave this clubhouse, fine. Go. But I’ll hand you over to Richardson myself.”
Blackjack’s spine steels, but he doesn’t argue with Howler. He’s a loyal right-hand man, just as I am. I’d follow Howler through the gates of hell if he asked it, and I’ll follow him wherever this road takes us.
Trick stares defiantly at him. “Then you’d better do it, because I’m not gonna stop killing Pioneers.”
“Would you listen to yourself?” Blackjack’s quiet words draw all eyes to him. “I don’t even recognise you anymore. The Trick I knew would never put hands on a woman. He would never leave his daughter in the care of someone else. And he sure as fuck wouldn’t endanger the entire club—not just our chapter, but all the Sons—for his own vendetta.”
“Lose Elyse and then see if you feel the fuckin’ same,” he snaps back.
Blackjack looks as if he’s considering hitting him. “No one is unsympathetic to what happened. We all loved Mara too, but what you’ve done… Howler’s right. I don’t know how you come back from it. I don’t know if there’s even a place for you to come back to.”
That seems to penetrate through some of the dark fog surrounding Trick. “I didn’t mean to hurt the girl.”
“You had your hand wrapped around her throat,” I counter. “You get off on that? You like hurting little girls?”
Trick flinches. “You know I don’t.”
“You still did it, though. What the fuck were you intending to do once you got her out of here? Hit her? Rape her?”
He tries to get to his feet, his intention clear. He wants to knock my teeth down my throat.
