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“Not really. There was an old handbook—DeLeon’s, I presume—waiting in the hotel for me when I landed. It has similar rules to the ones we already follow, though there’s a section of business that I will take over now that DeLeon is gone. Other than that, the old fuckers have barely looked my way. They seem to think I didn’t do enough to save DeLeon.”
Despite what they think, Ididtry. Whoever sent the letter and then killed DeLeon knew what they were doing. No fingerprints left behind, even though the house was a mess. Clean shot right between DeLeon’s eyes. No witnesses since his staff had already left for the night and his dear family was out of town. It would have been easy to play the killing off as a robbery, save for one detail. DeLeon’s left ring finger was cut off… and shoved in his asshole—a message and a warning to every member of the Brotherhood.
“Did you read the autopsy report?”
“I did.” He grimaces. “Think the killer is someone in the Brotherhood?”
“The finger bit would suggest as much.”
“It would make more sense that the killer is among us. Which is why I’d like to point out that you never answered my question.”
“Let me put your mind to ease, then. No, it wasn’t fucking me.”
“Okay. So, what’s the plan now?”
“You believe me? Just like that?”
“You know I’ve got your back, Ace.”
I snort. This fucker. He’s the only man with balls big enough to call me a nickname from our college days. But I believe him when he says he has my back. Just as I have his.
I answer, “Let’s see how this induction goes.”
“Deal.”
I always knew there would be a day when it would be my turn to take a seat on the council. As a Moretti, it is my birthright. But what I said earlier is also true. I’ve seen what serving the Brotherhood as an Elite Member does to a man. Which is why I need to go into this ceremony expecting anything.
The SUV comes to a stop in front of the mansion, and my door is opened. Looking up, I notice vine has grown up the side of one of the white brick walls of the house like a cancer that is spreading. Funny. That’s how I feel about the Brotherhood at times. The flowerbeds and lawn are perfectly manicured, deceiving those who enter because this place is anything but perfect.
Unpleasant memories dance through my mind as I exit the SUV. This is where my life changed nearly twenty-five years ago when I was initiated as a member of The Defiant God Brotherhood. Back then, I thought joining the Brotherhood was the best thing to happen to me. I didn’t listen to those who warned me things weren’t always as they seemed.
And, now, look where I’m at.
“Brother Moretti, it’s a pleasure to see you, sir.”
I smile at the younger man who opened my door. “I’m sorry. Your name escapes me.”
His cheeks flush. “It’s Brother Michael. Jonathan Michael. I’m a new recruit.”
“How many were in your class?”
“Eight.”
I nod. “Excellent. Come and find me later, Brother Michael. I’d like to have a drink with you before I go.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be amazing.”
He scurries to the next SUV in line to open their door, but he wears a shit-eating grin on his face. I snort softly to myself. I’m not sure I was ever that naïve when I joined the Brotherhood. No, I knew what joining meant and was ready for everything they had to offer.
I take the steps to the house, entering through the front door. Voices carry from different rooms.
Brooks joins me and says, “I need a drink before they pass out that shit they love so much. Say, see if that’s something you can change, won’t you?”
“I’ll do my best.”
I follow him to the bar, where he orders two drinks, handing me one. We tilt our glasses toward each other before tossing back the shots. The liquid burns, but it’s not enough. Not today.
Needing to keep my mind off the inevitable, I ask, “How’s the knee holding up?”
