Page 52 of Vendetta
When the single gunshot ripped through the room, Vendetta turned.
Shade lowered his rifle, calm and unflinching, his eyes fixed on Eli’s now dead body.
“I respect your choice, brother,” Shade said.“But that was for the Cottonmouths.He betrayed this club.He left you hanging in the woods like garbage and told us you ran.”Shade’s tone never rose, but it was heavy with judgment.“And there’s only one punishment for a brother who breaks that deep.That’s our law.He made his choice the second he tried to bury you and burn everything we stood for.”
Vendetta didn’t move and couldn’t speak for a second.What Shade said was right, and he nodded his understanding while he tried to ignore the part of himself that was glad the fucker was dead.
“Let’s wrap this up,” Vendetta said finally.
* * *
Vendetta
The compound’s main room still smelled like gunpowder and sweat.Blood stained the concrete in two places.Eli lay under a tarp in the corner, along with Trucker, Nate, and one other of the Cottonmouth loyalists.Their deaths had shaken the foundation of an MC already in turmoil.But the club wasn’t broken.
The remaining Cottonmouths stood silent, clustered around the space like men waking from a long, hard nightmare.Some had blood on their knuckles.Some had tears in their eyes.All of them stared at the man standing before them with a scar around his neck that permanently marked the damage Eli Crizer had done.
Vendetta stood tall in the center of that gathering, Razor, Shade, and Ripper flanking him.The Hounds loomed at the edge, all quiet but watching.He saw respect in their eyes, loyalty earned.
“You see the scar,” Vendetta said, pulling down the collar of his shirt slightly.“So now you know the story’s real.Eli and those loyal to him hung me for disagreeing with him.For saying we were better than what he’d turned this club into.”He looked around the room, locking gaze for a long moment with each man.“Four of your brothers are dead, maybe more, because they backed a snake who sold women and kids.If any of you are still loyal to Sinister Skin or think selling girls is a justifiable hustle, I want you gone.Now.Don’t fucking wait for another war.”
Silence.A few of the Cottonmouths exchanged heavy glances, but no one left.
Vendetta gave a small nod.“Then let’s be clear.The Oak Grove chapter of the Cottonmouth MC is done with trafficking.We’re shutting that shit down, starting here.Starting now.”
Razor stepped forward, arms folded.“If that’s your mission, then the Hounds in Mercy have your backs.”
Vendetta nodded.“We wouldn’t have made it through that gate without you,” he said, meeting Razor’s gaze.“You didn’t owe me a damn thing, but you showed up anyway -- and not just for me.For something bigger.Something you kept out of your town.”He looked around at the Hounds gathered there.Men he’d bled beside and who hadn’t run when things got ugly.
“Mercy’s got some of the toughest bastards I’ve ever known,” Vendetta continued.“And I’ll tell you this right now, we’re not looking to build empires here.But we are looking to burn down the ones built on blood and fear.If that’s the kind of war you’re willing to fight…” He paused, then offered Razor his hand.“… then we’re brothers now too.”
Razor stepped forward without hesitation and gripped his hand hard.“Welcome to the war.”
Ripper exhaled and stepped up beside Vendetta, glancing toward Eli’s covered body.“He had it coming.We all knew it.We just didn’t want to be the ones to say it.”
Shade stepped into the center, scanning the remaining Cottonmouths with his usual quiet dominance.“Our club needs new leadership,” he said.“And not just a patch and a name.We need someone who already bled for it.Someone who alreadydiedfor it.”
He looked at Vendetta.“Tank’s dead.But you, Vendetta, you came back to finish the fight.I nominate you to be our new president.If anyone’s got a problem with that, speak now.”
Nobody did.Not one man stepped forward.Not one voice rose in protest.The silence rang louder than a gunshot.
Shade took a slow breath, then turned toward the group like a judge passing sentence.“Vote.Vendetta for president.Show of hands.”
The response came without hesitation, raw and unanimous.Every Cottonmouth hand went up with yells of “Vendetta for president!”and a couple of “Hell yeahs.”One man thumped his chest.Another tilted his chin in a silent nod, eyes locked on the scar around Vendetta’s throat like it was a badge of honor.
It was done, the shift rolling through the room.A corrupt legacy had been buried under gunfire and truth.What remained was rough-edged hope, but it was enough for a new start.
Vendetta looked around the room, at the faces of men who’d been twisted by Eli’s lies and finally pulled back from the edge.They were tired and bloodied, but still dangerous men who stayed for the right reasons.And they had chosen him.
Giving a slow nod, Vendetta let the weight settle on his shoulders like the cut on his back.It felt heavier than it used to… but it still fit.
“Tank died out in those woods,” he said.“Alone.Betrayed.Strung up for speaking out against what this club was becoming.”His gaze swept across them.“But I didn’t stay dead.I crawled out of that hole with a promise to myself.If I made it back, I wouldn’t let that shit stand.Not in my name.Not in yours.”
He paused, carefully considering his words.
“I’m Vendetta now.And this club?This patch?It’s getting a second chance in Oak Grove.If you stay, you’re going to bleed for it.There are some dark days coming, brothers, while we get this shit out of our town.It’s going to be a fight every day.No more selling people.No more letting predators call the shots.This is your last fucking chance.If I catch any of you still doing that shit from this moment on, you’ll end up like Eli.”
Still, no one moved.
