Page 100 of Consequences

Griffin’s Beach

Beckett

“How the fuck did you pull this off?” Beckett asks as Brock guides him into the backseat of Colt’s SUV waiting just outside the prison gates at ten that night.

“I owe a guy,” Brock says. “Thanks, Colt.”

“You two are fucking lucky I don’t rip your patches from you,” Colt growls and turns around, his eyes wide. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Beckett does his best to smile, but every part of his body hurts. “I made friends with a guard. Motherfucker had to tie me down to beat me, though.”

“The warden was pissed they couldn’t break you,” Brock says. “I guess this was the second-best option. I wonder if he even knows we’ve been released yet. Probably too busy pounding Bill’s ass to answer his phone.”

His eyes widen. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. That’s why Bill is just a good boy for the warden. Wait, did you say Bill tied you down and beat you?”

“Yeah, I was tossed into my second home. Solitary. Ramsey came to get information about Shannon, and then found her. Bill brought in a chair, used zip ties, and beat me with a baton. Then his boots.”

Brock bites his lower lip and nods. “Well, that’s how it’ll go then.”

“I just wish I’d known about him getting pounded by the warden. That would’ve really pissed him to know I knew.”

Colt lets out a sigh as they drive away from the place Beckett never wants to go again. “What do you owe?”

“Gotta kill the warden and Bill. One of the guards, Tony, helped us out. It’s the least I can do, especially after hearing what Billy Boy did to Beckett.”

“This is all my fault. Colt, I don’t blame you for being pissed. If you have to strip me of my patch, I understand. I’m just sorry I pulled Brock into this,” Beckett says and winces as he sighs.

The last thing he wants is to lose his patch. This is the first time he’s felt like he’s part of something again since leaving the military. He also understands he made unforgivable mistakes.

Brock shakes his head. “No, I was just as stupid as you were. More, actually.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You were driven by a need to protect your girl. Brock was driven by nothing,” Colt snaps. “Besides being a fucking moron who knows better.”

“I’m sorry, Colt,” Brock says.

Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, he growls. “You should’ve come to me! Goddammit, you two are not this stupid!”

“Brock wanted to. I talked him out of it. That’s on me,” Beckett says with a wheeze.

Maybe skipping the crabby nurse was a mistake. Another one to add to the list.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brock asks.

“I’m fine. Any word on Shannon? Have you found her? Is she okay?”

“We haven’t gotten eyes on her yet,” Colt says, his tone much softer than before.

Resting his head on the headrest, Beckett closes his eyes. “I promised Ramsey I’d be one of the last faces he ever sees. Breaking promises just isn’t in me.”

They drive in silence, and he focuses on his head throbbing. He can’t ride right now in the condition he’s in, but a few days of recuperation will have him good as new. It means the club will have to get Shannon without him, and it makes him angry.

If anything happens to Shannon, he doesn’t know how to survive that. He was supposed to protect her. Save her. Instead, he acted rash and got locked up.

“What we did learn is that she ran before they could catch her at her old house. We’re not really good at the technical shit you have, Brock, so we only got part of the phone call,” Colt says.

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