Page 24 of Broken Skulls

Lily pauses what she’s doing to look at me.

“What?” I ask, finally meeting her gaze.

“You growled.”

“I did not.”

She laughs a little. “You absolutely did.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Do you think victims feel better after they receive justice? Real justice, not that bullshit the courts order as punishment. Which is usually nothing more than a slap on the fucking wrist.”

She goes back to work, assuming I’m just upset because of the need for this charity run. It never ends … there will always be evil men in the world.

“I don’t know. I’ve never personally experienced vigilante justice.”

I’m not only curious for Elizabeth’s behalf, but I’m also partly curious about it for myself.

“Why don’t you ask Jesse?” she says at the same time Jesse steps outside.

“Ask me what?”

Great. What shitty timing.

“When you killed those men, and Crow, did it make you feel better?”

“Fuck yeah.” She sits down, lighting up a cigarette. “Why do you ask?”

“We were just wondering if the court system brings enough peace to victims.”

“Unless the fuckers are fryin’ in the chair, the answer is no. There is no amount of time in jail that makes up for what those sick fucks steal from their victims.”

Lily cringes a little. She was raised different from most of the club, and sometimes our harsh use of the English language still bothers her.

Jesse continues her rant. “Do you think jail makes them feel sorry for what they’ve done? Fuck no. Fuckers like that don’t have the remorse gene. If they do feel regretful, it’s because they got caught. Period.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Lily agrees.

I try to change the subject because one, I can’t stand to see Lily upset by anything, and two, I’ve got my answer. I definitely need to get Mr. Baxter to the junkyard.

“So, how is Ray settling in?” I change the subject.

“Oh, I’ve got some tea,” she whispers.

Jesse and I both lean in. Don’t judge. Everyone loves a little tea.

“He’s been going to Grandma Maggie’s almost every night for dinner.”

Jesse and I both groan, falling back in our seats.

“What? Isn’t that exciting?”

“Are you sure he isn’t just enjoying her food? You know Dan’s mom was an excellent cook,” I say.

Jesse slaps me in the arm before I realize how that may have sounded.

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