Page 88 of Truths

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dax asks. “He was going to strap her down and-”

“Yeah, I heard. That pisses me the fuck off, and I wish I would have tortured him more for it. But he would have killed anyone who went after her, even with this grand plan. I mean, what the fuck?”

Laughing, Brock shakes his head. “I guess only truly crazy can see through all the other crazy. But I agree. No one else was going to hurt her. I don't know thathewasn't going to hurt her, but he would have hurt others who tried. I think that's what the kids these days call toxic.”

“Everything about these motherfuckers is toxic,” Dax growls.

“I'll leave you to talk. I thought you'd want to know that this doesn't feel fully planned out. Not with the Kingsmen, anyway. They likely used him for manpower and a fall guy,” Brock says and stands.

The door shuts, and Dax whips around to face the other two Presidents. “I need revenge.”

“We need to make sure it's planned out this time,” Psycho says. “We got the wrong man killed when we played this game before. I don't want that on my head again.”

Jennings nods. “I agree. We know the Kingsmen are at fault for Dani. There's no doubt about that, and Ryan was released a couple of weeks ago.”

“I want him,” Dax says. “He's fucking mine. I want to end his fucking life.”

“I'd like to be there. I watched every other member of my club die.”

“Works for me.”

Smiling, Jennings says, “I might have an idea. But we'll need Mickey and Diego.”

“The friend of his from south of the border?”

“Yeah. What are we going to do about Ivan?” Psycho asks. “And the RIO?”

“Ivan dies. And I think we need to give Colt the opportunity to be one of them who has a hand in it. As much as I hate to say it, though, we're going to need to make nice with an enemy to pull it off.”

“Fucking Irish,” he growls. “I'm sending his fucking head somewhere, though. It's fucking happening.”

Dax narrows his eyes. “You want to cut off his head and send it to someone?”

“It's kind of my new thing. Don't make it weird.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Griffin's Beach

Colt

Colt left the Chapel to leave the Presidents to talk, and he passed Brock as he walked by with a laptop under his arm. Looking around, he couldn’t find Lex anywhere. Or Dani. He walked back to his old apartment to find it sitting empty. Almost as if it's waiting for him to return. Sometimes, he misses Griffin's Beach, but he knows how terrible this place was for Lex. He'll take a healthy wife over his hometown.

His hand slides over the frame, taking note that it's been fixed.

“Why the fuck would I think they would've just let it stay broken?” he mutters to himself.

Flashes of having to kick in his own apartment door to get to Lex almost take his breath away. The way O'Malley not only gotinto their clubhouse but was able to chain his wife to his own fucking bed still wakes Colt in the middle of the night. She was vulnerable in the one place women should always be safe. Their own goddamn clubhouse. But what keeps him awake is the fact he could have lost her. O'Malley had the perfect opportunity to take her rather than just taunt them. Even though the bastard's dead, it doesn't take away the horror of everything he did to them.

Colt steps outside, expecting to see his curly blonde wife sitting on the swings. For some reason, swings always seem to be her safe space. The one childhood memory not tarnished by her asshole brother. Whenever she needs to think or get away, he's usually guaranteed to find her on the nearest swing set.

Instead, the swings sit empty. The only other place Lex would be is on the bench on the top of the building. Colt’s never known why a bench was put on the roof, but it’s a guarantee to find his wife sitting up there in the dark if she’s not on the swings. It’s a perfect hideaway spot.

The moment his eyes catch sight of her on the bench when his head comes above the building has him sighing in relief.

“There you are.”

“I got Dani set up in a room for the time being, and I just need some air,” Lex says.

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