Page 127 of Dagger

It wasn’t about the past or even the future. It wasn’t about John and me, our relationship. It was about the here and now and doing the right thing for my friends in the club.

Ashley and Maze’s deaths were going to impact everybody, and it was my turn to give them back the same thing they’d given me since I’d been here.

All the love and support I could muster.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dagger

The lights inside the Cell were dimmed. The only beam of brightness in the cavernous room came from the spotlight blinding Shotgun as he hung naked from the meat hook over the thick tarp we’d covered the concrete floor with.

Me, Hendrix, Cash, and Atlas sat staring at our brother, or rather ex-brother, seeing as he’d committed the worst crime imaginable and ratted out his club. Bowie and Breaker had first go at Shotgun; they’d beaten him black and blue, getting out all their pent-up anger before going to shower the traitor’s blood off and return to their families.

We’d been playing while we waited for Fender to come and finish the job.

I thought back to earlier that day and the havoc the bastard in front of me had caused.

By the time we got to the women, Hendrix and his men already had everything under control. The Sinners’ SAA, Howler—the asshole Shotgun had colluded with alongside Bear Rawlins—already caught a bullet between his eyes, but there were still four others we got to execute.

Shot had been recruited by Bear about a month before.

My brother had admitted that he held resentment toward me after the fight with Colt. After he had my back, he’d built an expectation of being asked into the inner circle, even thought I’d invite him to become an officer somewhere down the line, but of course, it didn’t happen.

The final straw was when Colt came back to the club. Shotgun decided he didn’t want to be a part of a club that worked with the Feds—doing so went against everything he believed in, especially after his dad was shot dead by a Fed twenty-five years ago when he was carrying out a bank robbery in Denver.

Instead of coming to me, Shot went to Bear, who promised him a seat at the Sinners’ big table as long as he helped take us down. They decided the best way to bring us to our knees was to take our women and kids, and they were right, except they didn’t know we were watching them.

The emotions coursing through me weren’t positive ones.

I felt sick to my stomach, and my deep-rooted guilt felt like a noose tight around my throat, squeezing so hard that it hurt to breathe.

I’d sent our women and kids into an ambush that had killed Ashley and Maze. Iris was traumatized, and so were the kids. Abe couldn’t look at me, and Fender couldn’t look at anybody because he was so lost inside his grief. His two eldest kids were at summer camp, and Fender was going to pick them up and then take them to his folk’s place in Iowa the next day.

He needed time to pull his family together and be there for his kids, and I’d make sure my generous, sensitive brother and his children would get everything they needed, including time and peace.

The women were mostly okay, though I was positive sleep wouldn’t come easy for a few nights. As usual, Kennedy and Cara bitched about the Sinners and what they’d done. Layla stood proud because the club regarded her with newfound respect.Sophie went about her business the same way she always did, by looking after everybody.

The biggest surprise was Elise.

More SUVs turned up to get the women and she took charge immediately. She ushered the most frightened ol’ ladies and their kids into the first SUV and ordered Iris into it, telling her to look after everybody. It was the best thing she could’ve done, because Iris dried her eyes and went straight into momma bear mode.

An hour later, Leesy walked into the clubhouse and took charge again.

In no time, the men were fed, and the women and kids were settled. She told me to go deal with club business and leave everything else to her. In the moment, she reminded me of my mom—cool, calm, and together.

My chest swelled with pride because she was everything nobody thought she ever would be, except me. I knew thirty years ago she’d find her strength one day. What I didn’t know was the shit she’d have to endure in order to do it.

But then maybe what she went through gave her the strength to become this incredible woman who took charge when the people she loved needed guidance. I hated the thought of what she’d endured, but I appreciated how she used it to draw on the inner strength she displayed.

Elise had proven she was a survivor, and now she was proving she was also an ol’ lady—and a good one at that, seeing as she understood exactly what we were doing down here and encouraged it.

My eyes fell on the set of knives I’d pulled from my room.

I’d not used them since the day Iris was taken. I still threw knives and axes with Kai and Mason, though my treasured set hadn’t made an appearance. This was a special occasion, though, and just like that awful day thirty years ago—when I found Irisstrapped naked to a table, bruised and bloody—a statement had to be made.

Thethwackof fists hitting flesh filtered through the room.

I looked up to see Atlas naked from the waist up, punching Shotgun’s torso. The angle the traitor’s body hung from the meat hook and the concave of his torso indicated his ribs were busted up. He was pale, too pale, because he’d lost so much blood. The bullet holes had stopped bleeding briefly, but every time we began to beat him, they reopened, and blood dripped down his body onto the tarp-covered floor of the Cell.

---