Page 164 of Dagger

I picked up my last knife. “No, Abe, this will.” I cocked my arm back and lobbed it as hard as I could, and my heart soared as I watched it slice into Henderson’s heart.

Bullseye.

I pulled my back straight and grinned. “And that one was for me.”

His body jerked violently, and his head lolled forward one last time.

I drew a breath in through my nose, eyes glued to Henderson’s body, and something hit me hard in the chest.

It was done.

It was over.

A weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying lifted from my shoulders, and my throat heated with years of pent-up emotion. Tipping my chin up, I looked to the heavens, and for the first time since he’d died, I finally spoke to my old man.

“We did it, Pop. We’ve been avenged.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dagger

Twelve Hours Later

“I cannot fuckin’believeCash got to let off my AT4,” Atlas complained yet again. “It’s not fuckin’ fair.” He smacked the table we sat around in Church with his fist, glowering at the VP.

I rubbed at the tension headache forming in my temples. “Jesus Christ, brother. Give it a goddamned rest.”

“Well,” he continued. “Nettie was my bitch, and I only got one cartridge with her. It’ll take months to get another one brought in. Cartridges for AT4s are like fuckin’ gold dust.”

Cash leaned across the table. “Brother, I’ve already explained, they were about to flee the scene. We needed that shit wrapped up, once and for all. We couldn’t let ‘em slither away, so I had no choice but to blow up their transport.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t take the entire compound out,” Breaker interjected. “Those AT4s are destructive motherfuckers. Wield it a few inches in the wrong direction, andboom.”

“I trusted my club brother,” Cash declared. “Arrow told me he could work it, so I took that as gospel. We don’t lie to each other or blow smoke up asses. If any of ‘em tell me they can do somethin’, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s true.”

“Turned out to be a good call,” Bowie drawled, sitting to the side of his chair with his arm flung across the back of it casually. “The Sinners didn’t get away, and we won with the help of Pop’s friends in low places.”

Abe chuckled. “You’re a dark horse. I can’t believe you kept Spencer and his boys in your back pocket all this time. How the fuck didthatcome about?”

My mouth tipped up. “Colt saw the job advertised on the dark web and investigated as part of his FBI duties. When he discovered the job was for Henderson, he called me. Spence put together his private security team when we popped smoke. In fact, I’ve done small jobs for him over the years. Six months ago, he asked me to help him out, but I turned him down—at the time, the heat was on with Henderson. Called him back and told him if he scratched my back, I’d scratch his. He gathered his boys together, told ‘em the score, and they all agreed to play the game. They’re good men with morals. They jumped at the chance of helping to take down a trafficking ring.”

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?” Abe asked. “You could’ve trusted us.”

“I know, brother,” I replied quietly. “There’s nobody I trust more than the men around this table, but it was a condition of Spencer agreeing to take the job. I know you, but Spencer doesn’t. His priority is to protect his team. Plus, we agreed that your reactions toward them had to be real. They were in a dangerous spot, and if anything gave them away, they’d have been fucked. It wasn’t personal. I only told Cash at the last minute, ‘cause he needed to know not to fire on them.”

“I get it,” Atlas muttered.

I raised a hand to scratch my beard thoughtfully. “It was risky, but I made a promise to Spence. We’ve always had each other’s backs—and being POWs made our bond unbreakable. You know, if I say I’ll do somethin’, I mean it down to my bones.I’ve kept all your confidences at one time or another. A man’s got nothing if he hasn’t got his word.”

“Fair enough.” Bowie shrugged.

“Gotcha,” Breaker muttered.

My stare rested on my youngest son.

Kit had dark shadows under his eyes, and his usually olive skin held a tinge of grey.

Killing took everything out of him, and it worried me to distraction. My boy’s PTSD was under control, but I fretted that every time he took a life, he’d also take a turn for the worse in his recovery.

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