Page 65 of The Enforcer

Sighing, I kiss him again, this time on the lips and whisper, “I promise I’ll make this right. I’ll bring you his fucking head.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Zeke

For the next week, I go to the hospital every day to check on Shane. Prez has me off official duties until he’s better. It’s the first time I don’t mind the club not being number one in my life. While I love the club and my position, Shane comes first.

The first few days are hell, Shane being in constant pain and having to get those painful procedures. He tries to be brave for me, calming me down when I want to rip the heads off of anyone that hurts him. I get even more pissed—at myself most of the time—because it’s not Shane’s job to make sure I have a cool head. That’s on me. Normally, it’s not hard. I’m able to keep my anger and rage simmering just below the surface at all times, but when it comes to Shane, I can’t keep that shit under wraps.

“You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep worrying,” Shane told me after the one-week mark.

The doctors said he should be healthy enough to go home after a few days recovering from his last skin graft. Shane has third degree burns and needs intense treatment and will take a few months to heal completely. He’ll still be in pain for a while, but I’ll take care of him. I’ll make sure he wants for nothing while he’s recovering. I should have already taken care of him and I failed.

I try to give him a smile, but I can feel that it comes out shaky. “I’m good.”

Shane holds his good hand out to me and I’m powerless to ignore it. Sliding my chair closer, I grasp it, kissing the back. Shane is sitting up higher in bed now, so I look up at him curiously. “You’re not good. But I am. This,” he points to his arm, “will heal. I’ll be okay. I’ll scar, but not too bad. I’ll be as good as new.”

“I know, baby. I just … I feel helpless. I need to be out there doing something. But I need to here, with you. I can’t leave you, but I can’t allow what Kirk did to go unchecked. I’m fucking torn, baby.”

Smiling, Shane rubs my face. “We’ll figure it out. I know we will. Just … don’t stress yourself about it. I know you’ll get him. So chill and keep me company. I don’t like when you’re grumpy.”

“I’m always grumpy.”

“Are not.” Shane’s laugh is hardy, no sign of pain marring his tone. “Come on, hop up here.” He pats the bed beside him and I climb on, bringing Shane’s head to my shoulder. “You can watch TV with me until visiting hours are over.”

Shane sinks into me, only a faint hiss belying his discomfort. My jaw clenches, but I try to control my anger. His hand in mine, I rub my thumb over his tanned skin—still sun kissed from our vacation in Cuba—and listen to his deep, even breathing.

We sit for another hour before my phone rings, startling us both. I shush him—Shane had just fallen asleep—and scoop up my phone before it can startle him again. “Yeah?” I say gruffly when I answer the phone for Prez.

“Hope you’re up for a road trip. We got him.”

The words send a shock through my body and I sit up quickly, jostling Shane. He looks at me questioningly and I hold a finger up for him, asking him to wait as I get the information from Prez. “Where?”

“Currently in the back of our cargo van, unconscious. Get this. This fucker went back to the club to check out his handiwork after the fire marshal wrapped up his investigation. Reaper had been sitting on the club every day, saying he had a hunch Kirk would show up. Turns out he was right.”

Eagerness and excitement sizzles through my veins at what I’m about to do. I check my watch—half past noon. We can get there, kill Kirk and I can be back to visit Shane in the morning.

Depending on how long it takes me to make Kirk feel Shane’s pain ten times over. He will pay in blood before I’m done with him.

“I’m ready.”

“Jace is waiting downstairs for you.”

Standing, I pat my pockets, making sure my wallet and keys are there. I won’t be riding my chopper down there, so I don’t reach for my helmet. It can chill here with Shane until I get back.

Once I’m sure I have everything I need, I ask Prez, “Can you get Joker to gather a few things for me and get them ready?” I give him a list of items I want, hoping they can have them ready for when we get to Georgia.

“I’m on it,” Prez says, then hangs up.

Gripping my phone tight in my hand, I close my eyes for a moment and think about what I’m about to do. When I kill for the club, I don’t have any personal feelings about it. None of that shit bothers me. I can kill for them and not lose any sleep. I won’t lose any sleep killing Kirk either, but I crave this kill. I need it. For me to take care of Shane properly, the way he deserves, I need to make this one hurt. I need Kirk to beg for his life, just so I can take it from him. He doesn’t deserve to draw air and I will be there to watch his last breath.

“Zeke?” Shane says from behind me. “What is it?”

Expelling a long, slow breath, I turn to Shane and gather his face in my hands. “I gotta go. They found him, baby. I gotta take care of it.”

Shane takes a shuddering breath, nodding his head. “I know. Just … be careful.”

“I will.” I kiss him lightly, feeling his tremble under mine. He knows what I’m going to do and isn’t trying to stop me. I’m glad. I would hate to leave if he was pissed at me.

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