Page 34 of Massacre
I took a deep breath and braced myself. I knew what Jack meant. If he’d just got back from Rapid City, things could get ugly. But I had no choice; I needed to see him. I made my way through the bar, my boots echoing on the creaking floorboards. The patrons eyed me warily, their whispers following me as I passed. The air was thick with the smell of tobacco and spilled beer. In the back room, I found him, his broad shoulders hunched over a glass of whiskey.
He didn’t look up as I entered, but I could feel his eyes boring into me.
“You got some fucking nerve showing your face here, asshole,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel. “You caused a lot of fucking trouble after you left.”
I stood my ground, despite the fear coiling in my gut.
This was one man I didn’t want to fuck with.
“I didn’t come back for trouble, brother.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. Then, he threw back the rest of his whiskey and stood, towering over me. “Ain’t no brother of mine. You got one chance to explain yourself, Massacre. And it better be fucking damnconvincing or I’ll be sending Reaper your cut soaked in your blood.”
“Yuri Nikitin.”
The big fucker smirked. A rare occurrence if I ever saw one.
Sitting back down, he poured himself another shot of whiskey. “So, go tell your Prez. Maybe he will help you.”
“He doesn’t know.”
Firestride took a long deep breath, then sighed. “Looks like you’ve got a fucking problem, then.”
“I know we’ve had our differences.” I could hear the desperation in my voice, but I didn’t care. I needed him to believe me. “You know I wouldn’t come here if I had any other choice.” I paused, waiting for any sign that my words were getting through to him.
Firestride’s eyes remained cold, but a slight shift in his posture told me he was considering my plea. “You know the rules, Massacre. You broke the code, and now you gotta face the consequences. Morpheus don’t take kindly to traitors.” He took a long pull from his whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass. “But I owe you one from back in the day. So, I’ll tell you what you’ve come for. Yuri ain’t happy you killed his brother, or helped that bitch he was fucking escape. Bitch took something that belongs to him and he wants it back. Real bad, if you catch my drift, and he’s willing to use anyone close to you to find her. And it looks like he found someone of value in Diamond Creek. Gotta say, Massacre, it was real fucking stupid on your part giving her your club patch.”
“You know why Yuri’s hangin’ with the Death Dogs?”
Firestride shrugged. “Don’t know. But Morpheus is keeping a close eye on those fuckers. Some advice. Be gone soon.”
His words hung heavy between us, weighted with old debts and the promise of violence. I tried to swallow my panic, but itclung to me, bitter and raw. Reaper wouldn’t be happy that the Brotherhood had eyes so close to Diamond Creek.
“So, that’s it?” I asked, voice low. “You give me nothing and expect me to disappear?”
Firestride leaned forward, the shadow of a grin flickering at the corner of his mouth. “I expect you to remember who your friends are—what few you’ve got left. If I were you, I’d be gone before sunrise. Morpheus won’t hold his dogs back forever, and neither will I.”
I nodded, pushing away from the table. My legs felt unsteady, the weight of the night pressing down on me. “One last thing,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “How is she?”
Firestride cut me off with a glare. “She is no longer your concern. Get the fuck out of here, Massacre. My mercy’s in short supply tonight.”
I left the bar, the chilly night air biting at my skin, every shadow a threat. There was only one person in Diamond Creek I cared about and if she was caught in Yuri’s crosshairs, I needed to get her the fuck out of there before my past came crashing down around me.
It was late when I pulled into the Silver Shadows’ compound the next evening. Sitting on my bike, I looked at the clubhouse as I tried to think of something to say to her that would make her understand none of this shit was her fault. The fact was it was all mine. Every last bit of it. She was innocent and if I hadn’t given her my patch that day, then maybe she’d still be safe. But what was done was done and there was nothing I could do about it now.
She had a life here, friends, and a club that considered her family. Her brother lived close by and as of a few days ago, her actual parents had arrived. I was the outsider. The one she really didn’t need. Yet, because of me, because of that patch, she was in danger and didn’t know it.
I never claimed to be a Boy Scout. Far from it. From the moment I could talk, I’d been told I spoke my mind and did whatever the fuck I wanted. Maybe that’s why I didn’t blend well with my Italian family, or with the Irish side, either. Hell, I barely listened to Reaper, and he was the family I chose.
The compound was quiet, the kind of silence that thickened the air and made my heartbeat louder. I hated silence. Silence meant trouble. A few bikes lined the lot, the engines still ticking from the ride home, but the windows were mostly dark. I waited, letting the tension settle inside me, and watched the glow of a cigarette flare through the shadows by the door. No one called out, not even a challenge—either they knew I was coming or they didn’t care anymore.
Inside, I could hear the familiar sounds of loud voices, music, and camaraderie as brothers enjoyed the night. I moved toward the door, nodding at the brother who stepped outside for a smoke. Each step toward the door felt heavier as memories crowded in, threatening to weigh me down.
I paused outside the door. I couldn’t walk in, not yet. Not with all the guilt twisting in my gut. All I could do was stand there, caught between the life she’d built and the ruin I’d brought to her doorstep.
I knew then I’d have to make a choice soon. Stay and drag her deeper into this mess, or walk away and hope the danger would follow me instead. But tonight, all I could do was wait in the shadows, listening to the muffled sounds of family—a family I’d never really had, and maybe never could.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” the brother standing outside smoking, cautiously advised.
