Page 154 of Making Choices

“Your support is immeasurable,” I drawl.

“Yeah, it is. That woman is one of the brightest lights in my life… I won’t let you dim her shine any more than I’ll allow Venom to do it.”

“Speakin’ of Venom.” I deftly change the subject when I notice that Toker’s dormant volcano of a temper is beginning to bubble. “I figure he’s the reason you’re creepin’ around my house in the dark… what’s up?”

Toker’s usually laid back. Placid even. Although he doesn’t mind a fist fight, it’s approached with an edge of humour. So, the sight of Toker actually giving into his rage is awe-inspiring. He makes Venom look like a teddy bear when he finally erupts.

Thankfully, the last time he kicked off was the day Brutus dragged his kids out of the compound and moved them to Inadale more than ten years ago.

It took weeks to calm him down.

I don’t have the bandwidth to clean up a mess like that again.

“Yeah.” The harshness in his eyes increases. “He’s got Bear hangin’ in the bunker at Hades’ farm.”

At the mention of the prick who helped set all of this in motion, my mood perks up. I sweep my arm toward the internal garage door. “Lead the way, brother. I’ve got a blade or two with that cunt’s name written on it.”

After nodding to Wyatt, who’s taken up guard duty overnight, I follow Toker on my bike.

The morning air is crisp as we turn onto the freeway that leads up into the hills. It hits me in the face, wipes away some of the exhaustion that’s dogging me. As we ride through Mundaring on the way to the small hobby farm where Venom grew up, Toker pulls level with me. He revs his engine, the devious glint in his eyes apparent in the sunrise peaking over the rolling hills seconds before he takes off ahead of me.

I chuckle to myself. “So, it’s like that, is it?”

We take the swooping bends as fast as we can as I chase him down.

Soon enough, I overtake Toker.

He catches back up, then speeds past me.

Cutting him off as we reach the farm, my back wheel tries to skid out from underneath me when I brake hard to make the turn into Hades’ long driveway. The gravel that coats the narrow, windy road spits out behind me. I grin wide, backing off the throttle so I can hear Toker’s shouted complaints about me chipping his custom paintwork.

For the first time in weeks, I find myself laughing. I pull up next to Venom’s bike, kick down my stand and dismount, but I haven’t managed to take my helmet all the way off when Toker comes to a skidding stop, and it becomes clear that he’s pushed too hard. Running forward, I steady him when his leg gives out.

“Fuck’s sakes, Toker.”

The damage to his hip is barely healed—which I’d honestly forgotten all about since he rarely complains—and his arm isn’t in much better shape. Avoiding the hot, pinging pipes, I hold him upright as he grits his teeth and allows me to assist him to climb off his Harley. When he tries to walk, he makes a low whining sound and his leg gives out completely, so I make him curl his good arm around my shoulders and I all but carry him into the barn.

“What’s he done to himself,” Venom asks as he emerges from the bunker hidden beneath us.

“Forgot that he’s still healin’… rode too hard on the way out here.”

“Told ya to take it easy,” he says to the grunting man I’m holding upright.

“And I told ya where to shove ya concern,” Toker snaps back at our childhood friend. I bite back a grin when Venom wipes off his bloody hands with a damp rag and strides forward. He makes quick work of unclasping Toker’s helmet, then he manhandles the pale man away from me. “I’m capable of walkin’, you pair of naggin’ fucks.”

The amused look that Venom and I exchange at Toker’s whining makes this feel like old times.

After forcing the visibly shaking man to sit on an upturned feed bucket, Venom grins at me. “You’re gonna have fun with this fucker. He’s got the pain tolerance of a toddler with his first knee scrape. I’m pretty sure I’ve got everythin’ important outta him, but you should take a turn with him before we finish ’im off.”

“He’s mine,” Toker interjects. “I owe that motherfucker, big time.”

“Sure,” I agree easily since he’s right. “As soon as I’ve finished double checkin’ his information, we’ll work out how to get you down there, and you can complete the job.”

The size of the hobbled man and the narrowness of the ladder that acts as the sole access to the underground bunker is going to make this a tight squeeze, but I’m willing to give it a shot. Toker isn’t usually involved in the close-up work since he’s our sniper, but if anyone deserves to send Bear to the reaper, it’s him. Of course, it could also be argued that Nadia and Cherub have a claim on being the ones to end him. We already know Cherub has what it takes to take a life. And, after seeing Nadia rain down fiery scorn on Venom’s head for his treatment of her best friend, I reckon she’d be bloodthirsty enough to kill the man who used her for boxing practice—something we only recently learnt, otherwise he’d already be long dead.

“I’m fine by myself,” I tell Venom when he follows me to the ladder.

“You don’t want me down there?” The bewilderment in his eyes spikes my guilt. I’m on the cusp of backtracking when he capitulates with a half-shrug. “Fine. I could do with a smoke break—” He pats the front pockets of his jeans, retrieves a battered pack of smokes, then jams a cigarette between his lips. “—’spose someone should keep an eye on Toker anyhow.”

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