Page 102 of Tempting Fate

“Your son also suffered various burns over his torso and back—some from cigarettes, others from what we believe is a blowtorch or welding rod.”

Finally, my president’s eyes turn black, and he reacts to the doctor’s description of the torture Fret endured. Charlie calls quits on their cold war to rush over to him. She tries to comfort him by cupping his face in her hands, but he shakes her off, and she silently retreats back to her original position next to Crystal. With a face like thunder, Slash abandons whatever game he was playing with the doctor and comes to stand next to me.

“They’re gonna pay for this,” he snarls. “With blood. Flesh. Bone. Fucking sinew. I’m gonna carve ’em up, same as they hurt our boy, then I’m gonna make ’em hurt a thousand times worse… and once they can’t take no more pain, I’m gonna leave their breathin’ but broken bodies at the farm so the critters can eat them alive.”

“Fuckin’ oath.”

“Count me in,” Toker adds.

With a sob, Sander slumps against the wall, then he slides down it until his backside reaches the floor. The two youngest Mayberry boys crouch on either side of him, their heads together. In hushed tones, they speak to each other, pulling together, doing whatever it takes to get through this as a family. Against my neck, Lily’s lips move. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I know she’s praying. Once she’s done, her spine stiffens, and she moves away from me. Her tear-stained face makes my heart lurch. The pain in her eyes turns my gut to stone.

“I’m sorry, metukà shelì. The club, I, we?—”

“It’s not your fault or the Shamrocks.” Lily presses her lips to mine, then joins her brothers.

Her best friend follows her.

After a small hesitation, Nadia drops to her knees next to Sander and pulls his head to her chest. My woman hugs her youngest brother, while Wyatt just stares at his father with malice. I step close enough to grasp his shoulder and squeeze.

“Not the place for finger pointin’ or fireworks right now,” I murmur. He nods, standing in a rush to tuck himself under my arm. I yank him closer, squeeze the teenager tight, trying to offer him the comfort his father isn’t. Mouth in line with his ear, I mutter, “You got somethin’ to tell me?”

Wyatt whispers, “Yeah… too much.”

“Come find me at the compound.”

“When Dad’s not around, I will.”

Curiosity piqued, I hold Wyatt out from me and hit him with a searching look. He gives me nothing in return except a slight head shake. After letting him go, I regroup with Slash and Toker, then Hunter after he comes to stand with us. We’re sentries. Blocking the family from view. Allowing the Mayberry kids the chance to let down their guard in relative privacy once the doctor delivers the knockout blow that we can all tell is coming.

“I hate to be the bearer of more bad news,” Bebe ventures gently. She stands as tall as she can, staring down Brutus as she continues. “However, there’s a long road ahead, as your son will need to learn to walk again. His spine is unaffected, which is good. It’s just the type of extensive tendon and nerve damage he’s sustained will limit his mobility for months… maybe permanently.”

None of us have time to react to her pronouncement because the doors to the corridor are opened, and the second last person any of us want to see strides inside.

Joseph Kingsley doesn’t seem to care, but he’s just entered a powder keg.

Couldn’t have happened to a bigger fool.

Brutus isn’t reacting the way any of us would expect. The Mayberry siblings are liable to explode with outrage over his cool acceptance of their brother’s injuries at any minute. Charlie is one piece of bad news away from collapsing. I’m vibrating with rage while grappling with the uselessness that’s riding me hard. Slash and Toker aren’t far behind me.

All this angst needs an outlet.

We can’t touch the Bishops of Bloodshed until the chapters I called in while we bided our time in the chapel arrive. But we can teach Alex’s father a quick, painful lesson if he steps out of line.

As I’m searching the waiting room for ways to block the exits, Brutus turns on Joseph. “What the fuck are you doin’ here? This has nothin’ to do with you.”

“Your son was tortured, Mr Mayberry,” Bebe tells him. “It was my duty to notify the police so they could speak to you, and then Everett when he’s brought out of sedation.”

The moment Joseph grins at Brutus, I know shit’s about to kick off.

I fully expect my president to leave in handcuffs.

Potentially followed by Slash and me.

Possibly Toker.

What I’m not expecting is for Hunter to retrieve his pistol from his shoulder holster, then press the muzzle to the back of Joseph’s head.

“Hunt,” Slash cautions. He flicks a look of pure anxiety between his younger brother and the good doctor who has just found herself caught in an armed standoff. “Put it away.”

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