Page 62 of Three Beasts

Chapter 38

Jason

“I told you this would happen. There’s nothing good in the life you lead,” I hear someone say behind us, and I turn around on my heels to meet Cole’s steely gaze. Fucking great, just what we needed.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Wade asks him, balling both his hands into fists.

“Righting a wrong,” Cole tells him flatly. “This life you lead … I hate it. You know that. But you’re my brother. And I know how you – all of you – care about her,” he continues, sighing heavily. “I’m not going to ask you to change, Wade. It’s your life. But I’m not going to sit around and watch everything go up in flames.”

“What does that mean?” I growl at him. I’ve never trusted Cole, but his words are disarming.

“It means it’s time we stop this bullshit,” he whispers, and then offers Wade his hand. Wade looks down at his brother’s hand, and then hesitantly reaches for it, taking it in his.

“We’re brothers,” he merely says, shaking Cole’s hand.

“We are,” Cole replies. “And as your brother, let me tell you something … didn’t you notice something weird about that bike as it drove off? I know I did.”

Realization dawns across my face. Wade and Alex see it and stare at me, waiting for something.

I don’t know what the fuck made Cole change his mind about us, but he just told me who the fucking asshole that tried to kill Zeva is. And for that, he has my respect.

“That dirty rotten goddamn low down snake ass mother fucking son of a bitch!” I yell out.

My fists are balled at my sides as I recall the phone call with Zeva. I heard the bike in the background. When it drove away, it was faint, but there was a familiar sputtering. It was loud, and I thought that meant it was closer, but looking at the tracks in front of her house…I know who it was.

“I…need to take care of this,” I say.

Alex grabs my shoulder. “Hey. Jason, fill us in. What the fuck?”

“It’s…I just need to take care of it. Don’t worry guys. This is over,” I say. I shrug his hand off my shoulder and give Zeva a quick, tight hug. “I’m sorry Zeva. I’ll make this right.”

I dash for my bike, jump on, and speed away. I knew exactly where he would be. I speed down the road, barely feeling the wind around me through my anger. I run multiple lights, cars honking after me constantly. I round the final corner and see Honeypot in the distance. I slide up to it and dismount my bike. I quickly scan the bikes outside and see exactly the one I’m looking for.

I open the door and scan the floor. It’s mostly operational, with just a few lights and the front door needing replaced now, so we have some girls back and dancing again. Most of the usual people are back in their seats, drinking and watching the girls. The atmosphere is a little more glum than usual, but almost back to its former glory. I see one guy in the corner not looking at any girl, his head down staring at his drink, his normal jacket missing as expected. I stomp over to him.

“Smoke, you son of a bitch!” I yell, and slam my hand into his throat, shoving him against a wall. My hand cuts off any protest, and everyone in the club is staring.

His eyes are wide, and I look around me. The club was just repaired. I can’t do this here. I drag him by his shirt out the front door as he is finally able to protest.

“Jason hey--“ he starts, but I let his head slam into the doorframe on the way out.

I toss him into the dirt in front of me. Half the bar floods out behind me to watch the commotion. I kick the steel toe of my boot into his knee hard, hearing the crack as it connects. The group behind me gasps in sympathy. He yells out in pain, but props himself up, trying to get up.

“Listen! You got the wrong ide--“ he starts again, but I cut off with a punch to his jaw. He falls straight to the ground. I stare at him as he tries to crawl away, my eyes ablaze with fury.

“Don’t even bother, you piece of shit,” I say, staring down at Smoke. I stomp down onto his ankle and hold him still.

“I did it for the club!” Smoke yells out. “You guys are trying to leave and it’s all that cunt’s fault!”

I shake my head and swing my fist into his face again. He falls flatter onto the ground this time. Images of Zeva’s burning home shoot through my mind and the anger wells up inside me all over again. I channel it through my hand and punch into him over and over.

Stone walks up and grabs my hand to stop one final swing. “You keep it up and he’s dead you know.”

I stare down at him, and then look at my bloodied fist. “Yeah … you’re right.” I wipe my hand off and draw my gun and put Smoke out of his misery.

No one fucks with Zeva and lives to laugh about it.

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