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“She fucking what?” Slasher barks. His outburst causes Alana to pinch her brows together.
“You’re disturbing the cloud,” she says, pointing above her head.
Slasher shakes his head. “Never mind. Carry on.”
Nodding, Cain continues. “She told me about the plan and asked if I’d help. Being an equal opportunist, I of course said I’d obey by our Princess’ ruling.”
“My princess. Mine. Not fucking yours,” Gray growls like that’s what matters. “Continue.”
If I leave the story up to Cain, we’ll never get any-fucking-where. He’s easily distracted and has a penchant for hiding the story between details that don’t matter. So I clear my throat.
“Since Cain was already meant to pick up the Cunts, he agreed to drop them off at the clearing, before hitting the Reapers’ safehouses with the rest of his… crew.”
Even though no one has asked, there’s so much tension in the air I have to clarify something else. Coming clean might not mean a thing to anyone else, but it does to me.
“They wanted to be there and to do their part,” I say, gesturing toward the Cunts. “Every single one of them volunteered. There was no vote or demands.”
The last part is mostly disclosed for my benefit, because even if they asked for it, I still feel guilty for letting them.
Gray nods slowly. “And you didn’t tell usbecause—”
“Because we knew you’d stop us,” Rose says, interrupting him. “We wanted it. Even if Zoe had said no, we would have found a way. This is our war as much as it’s yours. And it’s our Mama that was threatened.”
“Just for the record,” Tio says from somewhere in the back, “I think their plan was brilliant.”
“You can’t be serious,” Doug interjects. “They could have blown the entire thing.”
“They fucking distracted us,” Sully adds.
Slasher stands abruptly. “It was fucking reckless. But it was a great plan. And they’re right, we wouldn’t have allowed it if we’d known. That’s our mistake to fucking own.”
I’m surprised he’s the one who’s defending the plan since Alana got hurt the worst. Well… of the survivors.
“What’s done is done,” Gray says, sounding exhausted. “So I’ll make a fucking promise as your Prez. From here on out, if the Cunts want to be included, we won’t discard that decision. But in return, I want you to fucking swear that you won’t pull a stunt like this again.”
Even though no one looks at me, I take a step forward. “I promise we won’t go behind your backs again. And I’m sorry.”
The Kings all nod and grunt like that’s good enough for them. I know Gray’s still pissed, and he has every right to be. But that’s between me and him, not the club. And even if I apologize, which I can’t bring myself to do, I still abused his trust. Something like that needs actions and not placating words to mend.
“If we’re done with pointing fingers, can we please talk about the prisoners?” Cain asks, smacking his lips together.
“Are they kept separate?” Gray asks, and Cain nods.
“Oh, yes. I’ve personally made sure that they’re… actually, why don’t you just follow me?”
Since everyone is exhausted and in desperate need of sleep—hell, getting laid and maybe drinking and snorting shit to unwind—it’s quickly decided that the rest will stay while Gray and I follow Cain.
The crazy fucker takes us down to the basement, but it’s nothing like what I saw the last time I was here when Gray tortured the Reaper.
“Did you redecorate again?” Gray asks, dryly.
Cain’s head bobs eagerly. “On Wednesdays we don’t crucify people,” he says, like that’s an explanation.
“What the hell?” I gasp as he turns the lights on, revealing more of the basement than I saw the last time.
The huge concrete room is cleverly divided into sections. Yes, one is what I’ve already seen, but there’s also a part completely covered in mirrors, and one that’s…
“Why are the makeshift walls painted pink?” I ask in disbelief.
