Page 23 of The Grief We Hold

“We’ve been trying to gather intelligence on them,” I reply. “Where they organize, property they have in the city, that kind ofthing. We don’t know enough about them or how their network functions to know where to start looking for our shit. We left well enough alone before they started encroaching.”

Halo looks to me. “Need to start looking at who’s around your club.”

It’s my job to know. But the last two years, I’ve only been focused on one thing: the men who killed my wife and daughter.

I’m about to speak when Butcher begins. “At my instruction, Wraith has been focused on ridding us of a rival club. But it’s time to look farther afield.”

I appreciate him taking the fall for me, even as guilt eats at me.

“You know, things have been a little tame in Jersey,” Halo says.

Niro runs his hand over his chin. “I like the way you think.”

King looks to Butcher. “With a few extra men, you fancy going looking for some recompense for that shipment?”

“You guys just rode here,” Smoke says.

Spark shrugs. “Meh. We wanted a long ride.”

“It’s only an hour’s ride into Denver.” Grudge looks to Butcher. “We could do it.”

Butcher is more cautious. “Feels like we’re stirring shit with them because we can, not because we have a plan.” He looks down at his watch. “That said, we have five hours before it gets dark.”

“Plenty of time to plan,” Atom says, slapping Halo’s shoulder.

I look to Spark. “I can bring you up to speed on what we know about their setup.”

Niro winces. “Whatever happens, we can’t tell Cat we did this. I promised her there’d be no excitement without her.”

Saint groans. “For fuck’s sake. Do we need a ‘what happens on tour, stays on tour,’ pledge?”

Niro stands. “Yeah. We fucking do.”

“Okay,” Butcher says. “Let’s plan it up. I like the idea of causing a little mayhem.”

“I’ll work with Wraith,” Spark says.

With the meeting dismissed, Spark and I remain in church. “You got a good reason for taking your eye off the ball?” he asks when we’re alone.

I eye him carefully. “Your president might be the national president, but that doesn’t make you the national sergeant at arms.”

Spark folds his arms across his chest. “Don’t know why my question made you think I’m trying to be. Just thought you might want to talk it through.”

I scoff at that. “Talk what through?”

“I know a thing or two about PTSD. And I know how it feels to hold the dead bodies of people you care about.”

I look over at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“People talk, Wraith. You’ve called in a bunch of favors from clubs across the country to hunt down those Midtown Rebels you’re chasing. Butcher told King what happened to your family. Can’t imagine how painful it must be to lose your wife and kid. I’d fucking die inside if anything happened to Iris and Archer. I even talk to a therapist to deal with the intrusive thoughts that they might die.”

I don’t want to dismiss the veteran’s experience, but…

“Not talking about it.”

Spark leans back in his chair. “Maybe you don’t need to talk yet. Maybe you just listen. First, protecting the living is more important than avenging the dead. Your president obviously doesn’t want to say that to you because he’s your friend. But it’s your job to know the groups that surround you, who they are, where they are, what their business is. Second, you won’t heal if you don’t talk about?—”

“Don’t need to fucking talk about it. You know shit about me and my life.”

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