Page 4 of Vengeance

Kimberly shakes her head. “No, the other part.”

“I take full responsibility. Everything that went wrong was my fault. You tried, and I refused to listen.” Turning towards the door, he walks to the doorway and stops. “I’ll give you some space to pack a bag, and I’ll be in the kitchen. We’ll go to Griffin’s Beach, and I’ll get you checked into the hotel.”

Her mouth opens to speak, but he hurries into the kitchen he used to love watching her make breakfast in. Once the kids were older, anytime they were gone for the weekend, they had a ritual. Saturdays were spent in bed with very little sleep occurring, and Sunday mornings were spent making breakfast. Naked. He smiles as he remembers how many cold dishes they ate because they forgot their hunger for food and devoured each other instead.

Kimberly loved him. She gave him all of herself, and he pulled away. He could have given himself right back to her, and he had at one point, but the club got in the way. He started putting all of himself into the club, trying to save it. The club that no longer belongs to him, and when he did that, he had little left to give to his wife. Who also doesn’t belong to him anymore. When he thinks about it, losing her hurts ten times more than losing that President patch ever did, and he can’t figure out why he fought harder for the club than he did for Kimberly.

“I’m ready,” Kimberly says from the doorway, now dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her hair rests on top of her head, but she still looks good enough to eat.

“Do you need anything from in here?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m good.”

“I’ll make sure we fix the door tomorrow, or at least board it up until we can get it fixed. Let’s get you to Griffin’s Beach.”

“You don’t have to follow me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Kimmy, I’m not taking any chances with you. And I’m paying for the hotel, so don’t even bother arguing with me. This whole shitstorm belongs to the club, and I’m sorry it fell at your feet. It’s not fair, and I wish I could change it. But I hope you believe me when I tell you we’re working on a plan to end it all. It will stop. One way or another.”

Kimberly nods. “I believe you.”

It’s not the response Chicago expects, but he doesn’t argue. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Two

Black Valley

Psycho

Psycho pulls into the parking lot of the clubhouse after making sure the Slasher who broke into Kimberly’s home was dead and dismembered. After the Savage Slasher’s leader, O’Malley, lived after Psycho shot him in the fucking face, he’s made it his mission to ensure every man they kill is in fact dead. He’s got a nice collection of eyeballs when it comes to making sure the men are dead. He just hopes he gets the chance to live out the plan he’s come up with. He’s even topped himself on the grotesque scale with this one.

Ian Adams, the former VP and current Secretary, comes outside to meet him, and Psycho knows something has happened. It’s always something, and as much as he feels honored to be in his position, he hadn’t expected so many crises this early on. He’s not dumb or blind; he knew he was walking into a shit show, but damn if it wasn’t shit show on top of shit show on top of shit show. Plus another shit show just for extra seasoning.

“What happened?” Psycho asks and sighs. All he wants to do is curl up in bed with his wife and forget the day.

“Slashers attacked your house.”

He narrows his eyes. “I know, I was here when-”

“Again,” Ian says.

Lacey pops into his mind, and he starts to panic. “Is she-”

“She’s fine. She’s inside, and she’s waiting for you,” Ian says.

He pushes past the man and into the clubhouse, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“Because I told them not to,” Lacey Todd says, a red mark on her pale skin right above her left eye. “You were already dealing with something, and York and West had it covered.”

West Cross and Dalton “York” Bates stand, both scraped up and dirty, but neither looks too injured otherwise. The two men came from Griffin’s Beach as part of the Army Five the club patched in when it looked like many of them were looking at hard time. They’ve proven pivotal, and he just nods, not sure how to thank them for saving the one person he’d die without.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’ve been hit worse. You’ve seen it,” she says with a smile. “I’m okay, Carson.”

Cupping her face, he stares at the mark. “What happened?”

“They broke into the house through the back door,” West says. “We’d just gotten her settled, so we were inside. There were three of them, and one got away. They only got the one hit because we were outnumbered, but we made sure it was the only one they got.”

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