Page 105 of Banshee
Someone came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my neck, as another man stood in front of me, his fists hitting me in the stomach over and over. Black clouds swirled the edges of my vision, when the man behind me suddenly let go.
I was disoriented enough that the man in front of me was able to get multiple shots in. I could hear Kyllian screaming and swearing at the men who were taking great pleasure in beating the fuck out of me.
As the world went black, my only thoughts were that once again, I had failed a woman in my life I was meant to protect.
I came to, still tied to a chair, though the place was different. Instead of the dirty basement of the Death Dogs’ clubhouse, I was in a bar. One eye swollen shut, the other opening only part way, made it difficult to see where exactly we were.
Though the stools were undeniable, as was the man behind the bar who kept throwing glances my way.
Cecil.
We were at the Tumbleweed, in Burns. The bar I had stopped at when I came to check out the Death Dogs’ clubhouse. The day I’d found a note on my bike.
I wondered if Jude had left that note. Had he been following me, or watching the Death Dogs? Was he here now? Was he helping them? Had he betrayed his brothers?
So many questions that didn’t have answers. My head pounded in rhythm with the beat of the music. Normally I would enjoy the classic rock that blasted through the stereo system. But today it had the power to force me back into the darkness.
Turning my head, I saw Kyllian at my side, also tied to a chair. What did they hope to gain here? What was Skinner’s plan in bringing us here?
I was glad to see that other than a few bruises on her face, she was in better shape than I was. She turned to look at me and shook her head, silently telling me not to talk.
I wondered what she might have heard. Did she know why we were here? There were only a few patched members guarding us among the patrons of the bar.
Did the customers not think it was odd to have a man beaten to shit tied to a chair in front of them? Or was this the type of place that just never asked questions?
The type of place that didn’t care what went on as long as it didn’t involve them. I didn’t know how long we had been there. Or how long I had been knocked out. I knew I had a concussion. The rags they used to doctor my wounds enough to keep me from dying were dirty, ensuring infection would set in if I didn’t get antibiotics soon.
Maybe that was their plan. To leave me to rot in the corner of the bar. My brothers having no idea where I was. I looked down, seeing my cut was still on me. Surely Cecil would call King; I had to believe he was a good guy caught in the middle of a war that had nothing to do with him.
To be honest, we had no idea what the war was for. We still didn’t know what Skinner’s game was. What he wanted. What he hoped to accomplish.
There was no way to know how long we sat there when the doors to the bar suddenly slammed open. Four men I recognized stormed in. None of them were my brothers, but seeing Eros, I knew King knew where I was.
I watched silently as Eros walked over to Cecil and slammed a fistful of money down on the bar. “Clear the place now,” he snarled, his eyes on the men in the room.
Cecil, being the wise man I knew he was, grabbed the cash and shouted, “Bar’s closed! Everyone out!” Then he followed the patrons through the door.
Everything moved quickly after that. The four men moved about the room, their voices deadly as they spoke to their prey.
“Finish it, Firestride,” Eros shouted. “They’re coming in!”
Firestride raised his gun, pointed it at the dead fucker behind us, and fired. Pain radiated through my head at the sound. The blackness began to take over again just as the doors to the Tumbleweed kicked open, and Morpheus, King, and Zeus walked in with several others.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Zeus
I rode beside King on our way to bring back the man my sister loved. I wasn’t sure he was worthy of her love, but I was so fucking glad to have her back I’d give her any damn thing she wanted.
Including the man who rejected her.
I got it. I wouldn’t want to be forced into a marriage either. But I was biased. Irene was my baby sister. Back then, Banshee didn’t know the prize he was offered.
I lost half my soul when Diana disappeared, and for years, I never stopped looking for her. Just as I’d never stopped looking for Irene.
Fuck! Aspen.
I needed to remember that.
