Page 112 of Traitor

He whistled and the men began gathering.

Not the man responsible though. He’d already left.

That would’ve been too fucking simple for me to be able to put him down right in the middle of a goddamn graveyard.

He’d rolled over on his own club. I never thought I’d live to see the day that someone defied Grey. Lauren fell against my side and I snapped out of it, holding her upright. “Do you know what it is?”

Her chin quivered as she nodded. “It was in my mother’s purse, but it wasn’t hidden in the pocket with the other stuff. I thought it meant nothing!”

Kate and Dakota came over and pulled her into a hug as Zane met my eyes over the tops of their heads. “You know who it is.”

It was a statement.

I’d seen that goddamned image my entire life—it had practically been burned into my brain. The motherfucker thought he needed a calling card; a way to let the world know that he was responsible for the destruction. I never thought the world was under any illusion that he wasn’t. It made all the sense in the world. The Sons had been targeting who they considered weak—prospects and women. They’d even attempted to take out Carnage while he was riding, with no way to defend himself.

It was his M.O.

Comedian.

The man that I’d called father had just claimed responsibility for killing my actual one. The Sons had been one step ahead of us the entire time because the fucking VP was giving up intel.

It all clicked. Monica claimed that she’d overheard something she shouldn’t have—she’d known that he’d betrayed the club. Torch had just put it together too, judging by the clenched fists at his sides.

“Just make it look like a suicide.”

Fucking hell—he’d even used the same advice when trying to convince me to kill Katya. Monica dying of an overdose was never supposed to arouse suspicion. Comedian never imagined that Lauren would look into it. He’d probably been the biker in the parking lot, watching her, seeing if she was going to give up his secrets.

“Where’s Celia?” I demanded, searching the cemetery.

Zane answered. “Your mother took her home—is she in danger?”

I didn’t know.

That had always been the problem. I’d never known how deep the corruption ran.

I let go of Lauren and sank down onto my knees. I’d told him her plans—when she was going to go down to the station to reopen her mother’s case. I’d given him everything he needed. Carnage was fighting for his life in the hospital because of him. Men he’d known for decades and he’d easily handed them over to our rivals.

“Comedian rolled over on the club,” I began, forcing myself back up. I had to be strong. For them. “He betrayed his Pres and his brothers. The Sons of Death knew our every fucking move—lives were lost because of his actions.”

Sun Tzu had been right. “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained, you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

Grey had managed to keep the club running without knowing his enemy, but it came with a steep cost. I’d studied the Comedian my entire life; learning his every move to avoid facing his wrath. If the club was going to take him on, they’d need my help. Without Grey to lead, it fell to me. I knew not only him, but his every weakness.

I took a deep breath and walked back up to the casket. It was time to say goodbye and vow to put Comedian down. I owed that much to Grey.

I lifted the lid and paused in confusion. Where I’d expected to see my father, there were sandbags instead.

“Mike? Where’s Grey?” Zane asked, peering down into it alongside me.

“Not fucking here,” I growled.Had that been part of Comedian’s plan too? Stealing his body?

Lauren reached down into the casket and pulled out a single flower, turning it over in her hands. “A daisy,” she marveled. “He did it.”

Everyone turned to her as she began laughing wildly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Red? You gonna be alright over there?”

She nodded and then shook her head, before falling apart again with sobs. “Gerbera daisy. I told him they were my favorite flower…”

“If shit goes south again, I won’t hesitate to remove myself from the equation to keep the club intact.”

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