Page 16 of Suspicious

Rip flies up beside me, a bright smile on his face. “This shit is gnarly, dude. I’ve never seen anything so lit in my life,” he quips,then takes off, gun high, shooting anything that moves.

Alpha, Montana, and Wes race in, flanking me as we move through to what would have been the truck Atlas drove in. Montana glances into what would be the back of the truck. It’s a wreck, but I clearly see him smile as he pulls at what remains of a body. It falls to the ground, singed beyond recognition—what’s left of it anyway.

Montana leans down toward what’s left of the face, making absolutely sure. “It’s Atlas,” he states, lets out a small chuckle, and then stands. “You bullied me as a kid, then tried to fuck with my Old Lady… guess I get the last laugh now, huh?” Then he lays his boot into what’s left of Atlas, and parts of his body flake off into ash, floating into the air like the scene from Marvel’sEnd Game.

I grip his shoulder, simply tilting my head to the side, gesturing we still have work to do. He nods in understanding, and we take off. At the front of the wreckage, three bodies lie on the ground, nothing identifying left of them, and Alpha steps up to the one in the middle. Slight movement and groaning coming from his body as the other three of us slide in beside him.

Alpha glances down at the clearly disfigured Ricco Rojas, immobile, incapacitated, and utterly defenseless. What remains of his soldiers are being hunted and taken out by the rest of our brothers while we stand here watching the almighty Cartel King fade right in front of our very eyes.

Alpha lets out a small laugh, bending down to kneel beside his nemesis. “Ricco, you made me believe my daughter was burned alive… funny how justice comes to those who deserve it most.”

Ricco’s hand begins to move, edging up shakily and slowly toward Alpha’s face. He snorts, slapping Ricco’s singed hand away from him. “You thinkIam going to helpyou?Aftereverythingyou did to me?To my daughter?You stole her from me for years. Put her into a training facility and turned her intoa miniature assassin. She’s achild.She shouldn’t be the way she is, andthatis onyou,Ricco!”

Inhaling deeply, the anger and hurt in Alpha’s voice is clear for all to hear. The frustration he has with his little girl being incredibly grown up at such a young age and willing to fight, even kill, is not lost on me.

Poppy ismorethan capable.

But she shouldn’t be.

She’s only seven.

She should be playing with dolls and having dance lessons, not concerning herself with what the best weapon to use in certain defensive situations is. Ricco changed Poppy.

Maybe it was for the better, considering she’s a part of the club.

But he also robbed her of the chance to have a choice.

And that is what Alpha is furious over.

Plus, during all those years Ricco had her in training, Alpha believed she was dead.

Ricco gargles something unintelligible, his hand still reaching for Alpha, his fingers gripping Alpha’s shirt, the skin on his fingers instantly peeling away with the force of his intense burns. “This… isn’t… the… end,” he murmurs, his body shaking like he’s in the final stages of life.

But Alpha narrows his eyes on Ricco, rising from his position, and steps one leg over Ricco’s torso so he is standing on either side of him. Ricco’s eyes stare up at Alpha, a resignation crossing his face, like he knows death is near.

Wes steps up to Alpha’s side, placing a long military bayonet combat knife into his hand. My eyes widen—this must be another part of the plan I missed out on while daydreaming about Bea.

Alpha kneels over the top of Ricco, his eyes blinking slowly as he begins to fade in and out, but still very much conscious. Alphamoves his hand forward, gripping Ricco’s hair, and forces him to look into Alpha’s eyes as he presses the knife to Ricco’s throat. “I need you to know, Ricco, you made my life hell for years. You tore my baby girl from me. You broke my marriage apart. You came formyclub, and you thought you could keep coming for me? You might have weakened me for a moment, Ricco. But I kept my cool, bided my time, and waited for theperfectopportunity to take you out. I didn’t lose my head, but I’ve beendreamingof the day you would lose yours.This is for Poppy!”Alpha growls out the last part, and then, without giving Ricco a second to reply, he slowly begins to press the blade into Ricco’s throat.

His eyes widen, and his body begins to thrash about while blood spurts with each pulse of his heartbeat. I jump down at the same time as Montana, holding Ricco into place.

To help Alpha carry out his vengeance.

He continues to cut deeper, forcing his way through the sinew and muscle. Ricco gargles, trying to scream, but with his vocal cords clearly cut, no noise can escape him. Slowly, Ricco’s movements weaken, and his movements diminish, but Alpha’s fury doesn’t end. He continues to hack away at Ricco’s neck. I glance up at Montana, and he shrugs as we watch Alpha completely decapitate Ricco’s head from his body. The now detached body part rolls slightly away from his neck as Alpha lets out a long exhale, then slumps back on his ass on top of Ricco’s chest. He wipes the sweat away from his brow, smearing a line of blood across his cheek as he glances at me. His eyes dark, glassy, a void in his soul.

He’s clearly not here—his mind somewhere else.

His hands shake while he completely zones out.

I reach out to slowly take the blade from him. He jerks with the movement, keeping the knife tightly in his hand, but doesn’t say anything.

I exhale. “Pres… you with us?” I ask, knowing that sometimes he’s pulled back into the trauma from his Army days.

He blinks a few times, shaking his head, and then he glances at me, the shadows in his eyes seeming to lift instantly as he finally takes a deep breath. “I’m here. I’m good…Prospect!”he orders, moving to stand from Ricco’s dead body.

Wes moves in beside Alpha, instantly taking the knife from him. “Pres?”

“I want that head. Bring it back to the clubhouse. Donotlet it out of your sight.Do you understand me?”

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