Page 98 of The Devil's Scars

His throat tight with tears and oddly touched despite himself, knowing that these hard men had just given him the gift of generosity and compassion in the only way that they knew how, Sam nodded, then left. He had to go see his big brother.

Maybe for the last time.

Is it that bad? It looked bad… but all burns are bad, right?

God, he wished that he was home with Annie and Cindy. Just curled up in front of the TV watching a movie, a huge bowl of extra-buttery popcorn between them. No worries, no cares, no life-and-death scenarios. Pure bliss in normality, in the simple touch of a warm body next to his.

Just then his work cell rang. With a sigh of annoyance, he fished it out of his pocket, glared at the number. It was the main nurse’s station, and he supposed they were calling to tell him about Vic being admitted… maybe they didn’t know that Marcy had already talked to him.

Sam swiped ‘accept’. “Doctor Innis here, and I know about my brother, but thank you. I appreciate the call.”

There was a pause at the other end. Then, an unfamiliar voice:

“Doctor Innis… I’m really sorry to hear about your brother, we all are. But that’s not who I’m calling about.”

“It’s not?”

“No, doctor. Could you please come down to the E.R.?”

“Now?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry to ask, I know you want to be close to your brother. But – but there’s a woman here and she’s… well. She’s saying things that I think you need to hear.”

“Look.” Sam took a deep breath, sped up his pace as the exam room came into sight. “This isn’t the best time –”

“She’s talking about Zoe Parish,” the nurse said in a rush. “And Zoe’s baby girl, Keira, and The Road Devils. She’s mentioned everyone by name, including your brother. She said everyone is in danger, and she’s screaming that you need to believe her and call the police before it’s too late.”

Sam slowed. “She said Vic’s name?”

“Not exactly. She said Scars. And Doctor Innis? She’s been in and out of consciousness and she hasn’t always lucid… but she’s okay right now. I think the sedatives have taken effect, and it’s a rare moment to get some genuine and calm information from her, but she might pass out soon…”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. “Three minutes.”

“Yes, doctor. I’ll talk to her, keep her alert as best I can.”

Sam thanked her and disconnected the call, then spun on his heels and rushed down the stairs to the ground floor level. If this woman knew something – anything! – he wanted to hear it, and the sooner the better.

Anything that helped figure out who did this to Vic, and that sweet innocent baby.

**

In the lounge, Wolf watched Sam go, feeling very calm after that surprisingly warm and heartfelt moment with his brothers, and Scars’ kid brother. He enjoyed an almost fanciful musing about how ‘family’ had about a hundred different meanings to him, knowing full well that in a few seconds, his family was going to look at him, look to him. And they’d be waiting for their instructions, because hell was going to be paid that night. In pain, in blood, in souls.

Fuckin’ Dawson. This was you, and I know it. I’m comin’ for you, and you’re gonna die so, so slow. You’re gonna beg for it to end. It’s not gonna end, though. Not until I’m good and ready.

And just as he finished having the thought, every man in the room turned and stared at him. Wolf knew those looks – the fact that he hadn’t seen them for almost a year hadn’t dulled his memory of them – and God knows, he knew what they meant.

The boys were ready for vengeance. They’d do anything to get it. They’d die if they had to.

That was when Wolf understood – really, really understood – that all of them had been wearing flimsy paper masks ever since he’d taken The Road Devils legit. Oh, sure, they’d all played by the rules, they’d colored inside the lines, they’d led beige and vanilla lives. Maybe, like him, they’d even believed that they were different men, a different club.

But as they stood there in front of him, unmasked and honest, Wolf saw his brothers. And in their faces, he saw himself reflected back.

Thisis who they were, in their cores. They were men who operated outside the law of the civilian world, but that’s not to say that they were lawless. No, they just lived by their own laws and rules and honor systems. They meted out justice as and when they saw fit… and at its heart, that justice system’s credo was ‘You fuck with my family, you die, asshole.’

“You all know what we’re goin’ to do,” Wolf said now, and though his voice was low, it carried. “Whatever truce or understandin’ we had with Dawson and his boys is over. Law-abidin’ is fuckin’ over. Tonight we go lookin’ for blood. I’m gonna rip that asshole’s head off his goddamn shoulders with my bare hands, and if any of you has a problem with that, or are thinkin’ about talkin’ me out of it, you can go now. I release you from the club, no conditions or hard feelings. Just leave your cut at the door as you go.”

Nobody moved.

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