Page 59 of Dagger

John looked to the heavens and blew out a hard breath. “What the fuck did you do?”

A dark grin spread across Breaker’s face, and his mouth twisted with evident satisfaction. “What do ya think I did? Wasn’t gonna leave the girl there, or any signs I’d been watching Henderson’s ass for days on end.”

John clenched his jaw tightly. “Jesus, Son. Please, tell me you didn’t blow the place up.”

Kit's mouth twisted into a smirk.

Cash chuckled.

Hoots of laughter began to cut through the room.

My jaw dropped.

John’s lips thinned, and he bit out, “Fuck my life.”

Chapter Eleven

Dagger

“I never thought the day would come when I said this,” Atlas declared. “But what would Bandit do?”

I shot him some side-eye.

My pop may have been dead as a goddamned dodo, but he was still in the doghouse.

Abe snorted. “That crazy fuck would load himself up with grenades and go blow ‘em all up.”

Atlas leaned forward until his elbows rested on the Speed Demons patch, which had been carved into the sturdy oak table in Church. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

I gave him a withering look. “He’d also land every brother in goddamned prison. You wanna leave our women exposed while we’re all doin’ a twenty stretch?”

Atlas sat back and folded his arms across his chest.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I said pointedly.

“Can’t we send Breaker in to at least blow the Sinners’ compound sky high?” Cash asked.

“We could if we knew where the fuck it was,” I replied. “We already blew up their old clubhouse, and they scattered. Any of those fuckers who drift into town get intercepted by us, and they either exit quick, or we take ‘em out permanently. Bear’sgone underground, and Breaker already took out his number two when the fucker snatched little Kady girl. Now he’s blown up Henderson’s house of horrors, and I’m waiting for the pigs to turn up and question us, seeing as the sheriff knows we’ve got beef with the motherfucker. Hello, rock, meet goddamned hard place.”

“There’s gotta be a way to infiltrate,” Cash insisted. “We’ve got some of the military’s best tactical minds among our brothers, plus FBI resources. The Sinners are ragtag at best, so why the fuck can’t we pinpoint their damned clubhouse?”

My pinkie touched the smooth carved gavel next to my hand. “We’ve only had the Feds in our corner for a few weeks. Colt used to track them down, but he’s not a Demon anymore.”

“Can’t Arrow do it?” Bowie demanded.

I shook my head. “Arrow’s good, but he’s not Colt.”

Every eye slid toward me as unspoken accusations hung in the silence of the room.

You forced him out.

We lost a good man.

You did this.

You fucked up.

Nobody said the words, but I could still hear them clear as day. Or maybe it was just my own guilty conscience talking.

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