Page 126 of Dagger

Butterflies appeared in my stomach at the sight of his beautiful grin. Hendrix sauntered toward us, holding his hand out toward Layla. “We need to get rid of the gun.”

The guy from the field approached and called out in his British accent, “How did I do?”

“Right between the eyes,” Hendrix confirmed taking the gun from Layla’s grip and sliding his arm across her shoulders for a hug.

I heard movement and voices behind me. I craned my neck to see the other ol’ ladies and kids had come out of hiding. Sophie and Iris were heading over to Maze’s car. My girl checked the driver’s seat before turning to Iris and shaking her head. Then, they both headed toward Ashley.

Sophie got down on her haunches and checked Ash’s wrist for a pulse.

I knew she wouldn’t find it.

Sophie stroked her fingers down Ashley’s cheek, then she closed the dead woman’s eyes at the same time as Iris looked to the ground, shaking her head.

My throat thickened.

Losing Maze was bad enough. I didn’t know him well, but he was a quiet man who came from the Vet Center in Grand Junction to work for the club's building company. His loss would be a huge blow to John, but losing Ashley would destroy him purely because she was an ol’ lady, a wife, and a mother, who never asked to be involved in the war.

“Sophie,” Hendrix called out.

My daughter stood and began to walk toward us.

“Can you keep Shotgun alive?” he inquired.

Her eyes slashed toward the traitor, still lying on the floor but now awake and moaning in pain. “Why?” she asked on her approach.

“Prez will want to question him,” he muttered, his lip curling as he looked down at Shot. “There’s retribution to be sought, too. Traitors don’t get quick, painless deaths in our world.” He walked over to Shotgun, crouched down, and grabbed his hair, smashing the back of his skull on the asphalt.

Shotgun’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Men who kill defenseless women and sell kids to traffickers don’t get a quick death either. In fact, they die writhing in pain.” Hendrix stood, pulled his boot back, and kicked Shotgun hard in the side of the head.

Shot yelled out a curse.

Iris walked over with Kennedy and Cara, dragging a large blanket with her. “Can your boys cover Ash up?” she asked, her tone filled with sadness. “Her youngest is here, and I don’t want her to see her mom like that, even if she is only three. Put Maze next to Ash; he’ll look after her.” A lone tear tracked down her cheek.

Hendrix gave Iris a sad smile and moved to her. “We’ll take care of it, Rissy.” He used his forefinger to tip her chin up. “We’ll give ‘em both the respect they deserve.” He stuck his thumb and forefinger in his mouth, and a loud whistle pierced the air.

His men looked around at him expectantly.

“Lay those two poor souls together. Cover ‘em up and give ‘em their dignity.” He laid a gentle kiss on the top of Iris’s head, took the blanket, and walked toward his men, barking orders as he went.

“Poor Ashley,” Iris murmured. “Fender’s going to be devastated.”

“So’s Billy,” Ned added. “She was his sister-in-law. He loved her for his brother.”

We all watched in silence as Hendrix and his men gently pulled Maze from the car and laid him beside Ash. They took a corner of the blanket each and laid it over the bodies.

“John’s going to blame himself,” I told the girls.

“All the men will,” Cara replied. “But the only person to blame is Shotgun. He’s been sleeping with the enemy.”

“We need to be there for them,” Layla declared. “Their minds need to stay on the job at hand. Today was only the beginning of this damned war. If our men’s heads aren’t in the game, they’ll put themselves in danger. Tonight, we spend time with them, we show them what’s important, and above all else, we’ve all got to be there for Fender and the kids.”

Layla’s words swirled through my brain, and I swallowed down the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

Layla was right. John would need me more than ever now.

It was time to show him how much I’d changed. Thirty years ago, I wouldn’t have had the first clue about how to support the club after such a tragedy. I’d been cocooned and wrapped in cotton wool by everybody around me, even John.

---