Page 63 of Massacre
I stood there, staring at him as he slowly dismounted his bike.
I’d know him anywhere.
His eyes locked on mine.
When I shook my head, his shoulders dropped, and he slowly nodded as he got back on his bike. With that, he and the others backed away and rode off, leaving a lone rider on the hill.
As I sped away, the lone rider sped toward the warehouse, but there was nothing they could do.
My brother was dead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Valhalla
“Where the fuck are you going?” I shouted at Morpheus as he got back on his bike and backed up.
“The debt is paid.”
“Debt? What fucking debt are you talking about?”
“Tell August a life for a life. He will understand.”
With that, Morpheus and the others rode off, leaving me there on the hill, wondering what the fuck was going on. Hearing the motorcycle roar to life in the distance, I turned around to see it speed off, away from the warehouse. Not thinking, I gunned my bike and raced toward the abandoned building.
Skidding to a stop, I dropped my bike and ran into the warehouse. The second I saw him hanging there, I screamed, “Massacre!”
Running over to him, I reached up, grabbing his boots, only for my hands to slip away, covered in blood.
“Hang on,” I gasped, looking around the barren warehouse for a way to get him down, when my eyes found the rope on the far side of the place. Rushing over to it, I quickly untied the knot, but I wasn’t strong enough to stop him from falling to the floor. Running back over to him, I tried to ignore the way his body was contorted, lifeless, on the concrete. Dropping to my knees, I rolled him onto his back and placed my index and middle fingers on his neck, feeling for his jugular. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my own racing heart and closed my eyes as I felt for his pulse.
Counting to ten, I cursed when I felt nothing.
“Come on, you crazy son of a bitch.” I snapped my eyes open, grabbed his torn shirt, and ripped it open. Placing my hands on his chest, I started pumping. “You are not dying. Not today. Not on my watch. You hear me, Massacre? Forget about it. I am not telling my daughter you are dead.”
With a bloody hand, I tilted his head back, then pinched his nose as I breathed life into his body. Returning to my compressions, I looked around the abandoned warehouse for anything I could use to help me. Seeing nothing, I concentrated on pumping his chest, only stopping momentarily to check his pulse.
Nothing.
Grabbing his face, I screamed, “Don’t fucking do this, you bastard! You hear me! FIGHT!”
Reaching for my phone, I called Arsyn, knowing she was the closest. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, Val. What’s up?”
“Arsyn, are you still in Lusk?”
“Why?”
“ANSWER ME!” I screamed, pumping his chest.
“Uh yeah, I am. I was getting ready to fly home later today. Why?”
“Is the helicopter ready for flight?”
“Yes.”
“I need you in Crawford, now. How soon can you leave?”
“I can leave now. The client is safe. Val, what’s going on?”
