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She cries against my chest, and I watch as every member of the club around me grows angry. They grow angry for her grief. Angry at her sorrow. Vengeful for her pain.
“Santiago’s breaths are limited.”
“Damn. Where the hell is Charlie?” My dad barks out.
“He’s watching Lilah.” Violet says.
“Then who the hell is manning the gate?” Pascal yells.
“Last I saw, Sage was keepin’ watch.” West says.
I stomp over to the gate and unlatch it manually, pushing it open. “Sage! The fuck you doing out here?” I shout. “Fuckkkkkk!” I groan.
Sage sits in his chair, his head lulled back and a bullet hole struck right between his eyes.
“Oh, hell fucking no.” West says from behind me.
“Santiago.” Pascal growls.
I look behind me, seeing Violet holding onto Ivy as she cries on her shoulder. “We need to head out. Now.” I say.
“I’ll get everything together.” West says, running back through the gate and heading inside.
“Niles!” I shout. He runs through the gate and his eyes widen when he sees Sage.
“Holy shit, Z. This is fucked up. Who you think did it?”
“The Mexicans. Ivy knows who the head belongs to.”
“Fuck.” He whispers, running his hand across his jaw.
“We’re heading out. I need you to take care of the body and the head before we leave.” I say.
His eyes widen. “We’re leaving, tonight? I thought we were leaving tomorrow.”
My dad walks up beside me. “Plans changed, Niles. We need to get them undetected. They might know we’re planning something, which is why they’re getting so ballsy. We don’t have time anymore. We need to act. And fast.”
Niles nods, walking to Sage and lifting him out of the chair. I rush over to Ivy and start pulling her towards the clubhouse. The last thing she needs is to see another dead body.
She glances over my shoulder. “Is Sage okay?”
I wince.Too late.
“No, he’s not. Listen, I need you to go change. Grab a couple pairs of clothes. Comfortable, dark clothes. Nothing that will make you stand out. Wear something that doesn’t seem like you. We don’t have much time. So, grab what you need, say goodbye to Lilah, and meet me downstairs.”
Her heels dig into the dirt, halting me in my step. “Wait. Tell me, is Sage okay?”
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair and pulling at the ends. “No, Ivy. He’s dead, okay?”
Her eyes go wide, her red-rimmed eyes spilling more tears. “D-dead? Did someone kill him?”
I nod.
She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God. This is all my fault.”
I tap a cigarette out of my pack and spark it up. “No, it’s not your fault. This is our lifestyle. We all know every breath might be our last.”
When she looks up at me, her makeup has smeared. The darkness around her eyes created a road down her cheeks of inky darkness. Her dark lips have turned to a washed out gray. She looks wrecked, and horrified.
