Page 67 of Bozo

I grin as I step out of the clubhouse, my brothers at my back. Tonight, we’re going to get answers. No more fucking around. Those motherfuckers went after the wrong woman. They’ll die for what they’ve done to her.

TWENTY-ONE

BOZO

The ride to Leopardstown is tense, the roar of our bikes doing little to drown out the thoughts racing through my head. Images of Gráinne's bruised face, the bandage covering her stab wound, flash before my eyes. Each one fuels the rage burning inside me.

We pull up a block away from the bar, killing our engines. Pyro turns to face us, his expression grim.

"Alright, listen up," he says, his voice low. "We go in quiet. We're not here to start a war. We find this fucker, we get him out, and we make him talk. Understood?"

We all nod, the seriousness of the situation not lost on any of us. This isn't just about revenge. It's about protecting Gráinne and potentially uncovering a threat that could affect all of us.

"Bozo," Pyro continues, fixing me with a hard stare. "I know you're angry. We all are. But we need him alive and talking. Control yourself."

I clench my jaw but nod. As much as I want to tear this bastard apart with my bare hands, I know Pyro's right. We need information more than we need vengeance. At least for now.

We make our way to the bar, trying to look as inconspicuous as a group of bikers can. As we enter, the noise of the crowdedpub hits us. It's a typical Friday night, the place packed with people unwinding after a long week.

My eyes scan the room, searching for the face I've committed to memory. The face of one of the men who were at the card game. It doesn't take long to spot him. He's sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, seemingly without a care in the world. Unfortunately, it’s not the asshole who hurt Grá.

As we get closer, the man seems to sense something's off. He looks up from his drink, his eyes widening as he spots us. For a moment, he looks like he's considering making a run for it. But then his eyes land on me, and I see recognition flash across his face.

"Remember me, asshole?" I growl as I reach him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

He tries to pull away, but I've got him in an iron grip. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stammers, his eyes darting around frantically.

"Wrong answer," I snarl, pulling him closer. "Your brother hurt someone I care about. And now you're going to tell me everything you know."

The man's eyes widen in fear as he realizes the gravity of his situation. "Please," he whimpers. "We’re just following orders. He didn’t know that she was yours."

His pathetic plea only fuels my rage. I tighten my grip on his shirt, my knuckles turning white. "Orders from who?" I demand, my voice low and dangerous. "Who's Dragomir?"

At the mention of Dragomir's name, the man's face pales even further. "How do you know about Dragomir?" he whispers, his voice trembling.

Before I can respond, Pyro steps in. "Let's take this somewhere more private," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nod, roughly pulling the man off his barstool. We make our way toward the back exit, my brothers forming a tight circle around us to prevent any escape attempts. We push through the door into the alley behind the bar.

"Talk," I growl, slamming the man against the brick wall. "Who's Dragomir and what does he want with Gráinne?"

The man's eyes dart between us, clearly weighing his options. After a moment, he seems to deflate, realizing he has no way out. "Dragomir Popescu," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's the head of The Revenant. We were just supposed to tie up loose ends. The girl... she wasn't supposed to be there. She heard things she shouldn't have."

"And that gives your brother the right to beat her? To stab her?" I snarl, my fist connecting with his jaw before I can stop myself.

Pyro puts a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back slightly. "Easy, Bozo," he warns. "We need him talking."

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "What's The Revenant planning?" I ask, my voice cold and hard.

The man swallows hard, his eyes darting around nervously. "They're expanding," he says finally. "Moving into new territories. Dublin is just the beginning. Dragomir has big plans."

"What kind of plans?" Wrath asks, stepping forward.

The man shakes his head. "I don't know the details. I'm not in the know. I’m not one of the leaders. But I know it's big. Bigger than anything we've done before."

I exchange a glance with Pyro. This is worse than we thought. If The Revenant is planning a major expansion, it could mean war. And Gráinne is caught right in the middle of it.

"Where can we find Dragomir?" I demand, turning back to the man.

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