Page 84 of Severed Heart
“The fuck,” Sean rasps out, his eyes frantically scanning my face for any sign of a bluff as I make sure he finds none. “Get the fucking gun out of my face.”
“Make me,” I taunt.
“You’ve made your fucking point,” Sean hisses in a tone I’ve never heard. One that reeks of calm before the storm. I can hear the intrigue in Dom’s voice as he recognizes it and speaks up, his comment for me.
“Goddamn, brother. I think you better sleep with one eye open tonight.”
“Nah,” I counter, “this clown poses no threat to anyone, and it’s getting fucking embarrassing. Tell me,clown, what kind of gun is this?”
“It’s a Glock,” Sean spits, face reddening with fury.
“No points for the obvious, Roberts. What caliber?” I grit out, letting my own anger through. “How many rounds fit in the clip? Is the safety on? Is there one in the chamber? Where should I position my finger when I’m not using it?”
I take another menacing step toward him, knowing my expression reflects my wrath.
“The answer is you don’t know and have done fuck all to remedy that. See, Dom’s been spending endless nights researching how to invest the fruits of our upcoming labor, compiling a list of possible hits to add to our net value while earning us some side cash. A cash pool that you’ve drawn upon but don’t often fucking contribute to. Andme.” I stretch the gun further in his direction, palming my chest with my free hand. “I’ve spent most nights learning tactics, others mastering weaponry, practicing hand-to-hand, and have gained ten pounds of muscle all the while working my King’s shifts,you?”
Sensing his snap a nanosecond before it happens, Sean tackles me to the ground. I allow him to land his predictable but punishing right before easily tossing him off me. In an instant, we’re both back on our feet, squaring off before I again lift my Glock.
“Uh-oh, dead again,” I taunt. “What’s your part in the club, Sean?”
His death glare lingers before it drops to the bag full of guns at our feet.
“Those, my friend, are loaded, as is this one.” I offer him the handle of the Glock in my hand. “But the safety is on.”
He eyes the offered gun but doesn’t take it, a new grudge stinging in his eyes as he swallows the heavy blow I just dealt to his pride. But it’s my fear for him that has me silencing any apology on my tongue and delivering the brutal truth instead. “Playtime is over, Sean, you need to wake the fuck up, or rathergrow up.”
“Fuck you,” Sean rattles low, his tone lethal.
“No, fuck you,” I counter. “We don’t want to do this without you, man. You’re the beating heart between us, but you’re pissing your position away.”
“I know what’s at stake,” he defends weakly.
“Then act like it!” I shout. “But our question for you is, do you even want to be in this? Because we haven’t been inked yet, but it’s coming. We haven’t had guns pointed at us, but it’s coming. Gunpowder coating your hands with a body on the other side is fucking coming, Sean. One day, it won’t be talk, and you have to want this. You have to do the work and put the time in to be ready. Either you don’t want this, or you aren’t sure what you want from this yet. Dom can answer the question in a heartbeat, and so can I. I have major skin in this game. So, I’m going to ask you again, what’s your part and stake in this?”
His chest heaves as he finally starts to scatter his stare between Dom and me. “What is this? Some fucking intervention?”
“No, this is our way of begging you to stop sabotaging your place in our club and to actually fucking figure out what you want from it before wetakeboth your place and choice away. If you haven’t already lost it, and Sean, there is avery goodfucking chance you have.”
“When the fuck have I not shown up?” Sean spits, his posture drawn tight, still ready to brawl.
“That’s not enough anymore. Loving your brothers enough to go to war—to become a fucking outlaw—is not enough. There’s got to be something in it for you. And make no fucking mistake, you will be the most instrumental in knowing everything about this. As you’re well fucking aware, Dom and I are leaving to do our parts, which means it’ll be on you to bring them here. To teach them hand-to-hand and how to carry discreetly while making sure they don’t shoot their dicks off. Their fucking lives will rest on your shoulders. Which includes leading byexampleas well as enforcing how to keep a goddamn secret. Your capabilities are nowhere close to being able to carry out that task. Last chance, Sean,” I warn, “or I’m not going to bat for you with T.”
“Me neither,” Dom adds, “I’ve lost faith.”
Sean’s eyes sting with fresh betrayal as his mouth parts.
“This isn’t a fucking bluff or some lame attempt at tough love,” Dom relays gravely. “You might already be out, and you know you would fucking deserve it.”
“Jesus.” Sean cups his mouth, sliding his hand down his throat as he looks between us. A few tense beats pass before he finally speaks. “I want my parents’ restaurant to survive.” He shakes his head. “Fuck that, I want them tothrive. Matter of fact, I don’t want a single door from a struggling business owner in this town to close due to the corrupt and greedy fucks demanding so much of what they break their backs for.”
“Modern-day John Dillinger?” Dom nods approvingly, speaking of one of his heroes. “I can get behind that.”
Sean nods, his eyes watering as his anger dissipates and his fear thickens the air between the three of us.
“I heard my mom crying last night. They’re terrified. They don’t know how long they’ll be able to keep Pitt’s doors open. I don’t want to live in that fear, and I don’t want my children to feel it. I’ve seen what it can do.” He eyes Dom, his voice cracking with his admission. Dom stiffens but allows it, his fear for Sean’s place in our club overriding his pride.
“That’s all part of it,” Dom assures. “That’s really all you want?”
