Page 43 of Gunner
Quickly leafing through it, a piece of paper fell from inside and he crouched down to retrieve it. His eyes grew wide and his face turned murderous as he read the note, and when he yelled into the room, I knew it was bad.
“Lying motherfuckers.”
“What is it?” I asked, and he handed me the note.
Dalton,
I’m sorry I have to leave this last task up to you. Please find him and do what you need to do. I’m sorry.
Uncle Mick
Quizzically, I looked at him, and he opened the notebook to show the year.
1999
We sat and briefly looked through the book, our collective anger growing with each page. When we got to August, I couldn’t read any more and I stood, raking my hands through my hair, fighting the urge to kill every one of the bastards.
Skid slapped the red beacon of lies down on the coffee table and stood from the couch before he began pacing.
“What do we do with this information?” he asked, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked back and forth across the living room.
“We don’t confront them until we have more information. Do you still have access to all the records with Callahan?” He nodded, so I continued, “Then we verify what Mick wrote was true before we go making accusations that could get us both killed. Then there wouldn’t be anyone to protect Sadie and Jacob.”
With those words, I could see him calm down and begin to think rationally. I knew he wanted to confront Smokey and Bullet for their lies to the club, but without concrete proof, we would be signing our death warrants.
We collected all the notebooks and put them into a box before locking the house up and climbing back into the truck. As we sat in the driveway of Scribe’s cabin, a box of black notebooks on the back seat and one single red one resting between us, we made a silent vow.
No matter what, we would right that wrong.
Chapter 18
Sadie
Iwish I could saythe pain of losing Uncle Mick wasn’t suffocating me, but standing in front of his motorcycle tank filled with his ashes, I fought to catch my breath. Kade stood to my right, his strong hand firmly holding mine as Jacob stood to my left, his small hand engulfed in my hold. Dalton was on the other side of Jacob with his hand resting on his shoulder, showing him support as tears streamed down his face.
Since the moment he came home from the trip, Jacob had been very clingy with all of us, and the old ladies of the club have been amazing with taking him and showering him with attention while we made arrangements for Uncle Mick and worked on cleaning his house. Dalton had disappeared from the clubhouse shortly after returning from Mick’s house the day he died, and this morning was the first time I’d seen him in five days.
