Page 106 of Three to Fall

I shook my head. “Nah. It falls on me. I’m supposed to take your spot when you aren’t around. But I’ve had my head in the fucking clouds, dreaming about doing anything but Slayers’ shit.”

War glanced at me. “The paramedic shit, you mean? That’s what you’ve been thinking about?”

I shrugged. “It’s all I’ve really wanted to do for years. My heart ain’t in this life. I love this club. And I love my brothers. I don’t want to leave. But I want more.”

War gave a little laugh. “All I’ve been doing for years is raising babies. And it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

I choked on a laugh. “Our old men are rolling over in their graves right now, aren’t they?”

He shrugged. “Probably. But fuck them. They were assholes anyway. There’s nothing to say we can’t run this club the way we want to. We don’t have to run it the same way they did.”

I breathed out slowly. “So what are we saying here? Are we out? Are we shutting down the club?”

War recoiled like I’d slapped him. “Fuck no. That club is family for the people who live there. Queenie and Aloha. Ice. The girls. There’ll always be the Saint View Slayers. But maybe we’re just different now. Maybe we’re more of a…”

I widened my eyes at him. “If you say we’re a Sunday social club, who just ride out to pretty places to look at the scenery, I’m going to have to kick you in the balls.”

He sniggered. “We’ll work it out. But I think the first thing we need to do, despite the fuckups he’s made lately, is patch Ice in.”

I rolled my eyes, but I knew he was right. “Fine. We can announce it at the wake tonight once everyone gets there. But not Colon.”

“Who?”

“The other prospect. I still need at least one of them to torture.”

“I don’t think that’s his name.”

I shrugged. “Close enough.”

27

ICE

Icouldn’t fucking breathe. My leather jacket that normally fit like a glove was suddenly too tight, and I ripped it off, balling it up in my hands, only to have the Slayers’ demon staring up at me.

My eyes watered at the sight of it. It was so familiar now, after wearing it almost every day for the past six years. I’d longed to wear it for years before that as I’d watched the club roll through town with War’s dad in the lead position.

I’d wanted to be a part of it so badly. Thought all my dreams had come true the day Army had said they’d take me on as a prospect.

But that prospect patch had sat beneath the demon for years and years, and I’d had to watch Riot patch in new members, who’d only done a quarter of the time I had.

While War just kept saying my time would come, and Hawk gave me shit every time I fucked up.

I wiped angrily at my eyes, hating I was as weak as they thought I was.

I shoved the jacket in the trash at the entrance to Saint View Prison. I’d never wear it again. I’d been stupid enough to wasteyears waiting for them to accept me, when they’d clearly never had any intention of doing so.

I went to the reception, gave my name, and asked to see a prisoner.

The guard in uniform tapped her nails across the keyboard and studied the screen, confusion creasing her brow.

I cleared my throat. “He’s only been transferred here in the last day or two, I think. Might even be in the infirmary? He was brought here straight from the hospital.”

“How do you spell the last name again?”

“Gooseman. G-o-o-s-e-m-a-n. John.”

The wrinkles on her forehead smoothed out. “Oh, of course. I had it as M-E-N. It looks like he’s in a regular cell, so he is entitled to visitors. He needs to agree to see you though. I need your full legal name, please.”

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