Connor
It was close to midnight, and none of us were anywhere near sleeping.
Garrett sat in a hospital room with Hannah and his son by his side. He actually hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, but the hospital wanted him to stay for precautionary reasons. The rest of the Black Reaper officers, including me, stood nearby, standing watch. Cole had briefly dropped by earlier in the evening, but once he saw that Garrett was at no risk for anything serious, he left shortly after, telling us this was part of the deal of being an MC.
Except, Mason, Zack, and I knew it didn’t have to be. Maybe it would be at some point, but we had elevated something that we shouldn’t have. And now, everyone knew about it, and we had to pay the price.
“So you’re fucking telling me,” Brock said. “That the three of you decided to act without permission from us to try and kill Damian in the middle of the night. You tried to sneak in, kill him quietly, and ended up murdering his little brother when the kid surprised you.”
“Yes,” Mason said.
“Christ,” Brock said, putting his hands over his head. “I still can’t believe it. I know this happened. I’ve heard versions of the story from all of you. And I still find myself asking why because I can’t believe it happened.”
He shook his head, cursed repeatedly, and had his fists tense up.
“I want the three assholes who raped Rachel dead as much as anyone here,” he said. “You all know it, I know it. Connor, I understand you have reason for wanting it too. But if we aren’t acting together, we’re sitting ducks for getting picked apart. And when we’re sitting ducks, well, guess what? The Bandits go hunting.”
“So what would you have us do, then?” I said. “Sit back while my construction company builds more barriers around the building? We’re not going to avenge her death by playing defense. Only by going on the offensive are we going to win.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“All right, let’s calm down,” Steele said. “Brock, man. They did it for the good of the club. They aren’t rats. But they know they fucked up.”
Brock grimaced, looked like he still wanted to punch the three of us, and let out a loud groan.
“We play defense so that when we do go on the offensive, they can’t hurt us nearly as bad as they have before!” he said. “Fuck, Connor, look long-term a little.”
He looked into the room at Garrett. Garrett had just made Hannah laugh and was holding his son in his arms.
“We got lucky this afternoon,” he said. “That Garrett only got hit in the shoulder is wonderful, but if that bullet is just a few inches off, Mason’s having to console his sister and we’re all having to plan a funeral.”
He looked at me.
“We can accelerate the timeline to kill Damian and Eduardo and get revenge for what happened to Rachel. And in doing so, yeah, we can make this town a little bit more peaceful. But we’re doing this because we really don’t have a choice. Damian’s off his leash now, and we have no choice but to fight on his terms.”
There was a reason we’d made Brock president—or, rather, there was a reason Brock was given this position by Cole. He spoke naturally in this spot, and no one questioned him. He had complete command of the group of five.
“I want all of you to carry weapons on you at all times, wherever any of you go,” he said. “I don’t care if you’re going to visit your grandma or if you’re going grocery shopping. If the Bandits are willing to attack us at our houses, we have to assume that they’ll be willing to attack us anywhere. And if at all possible, carry clips and more weapons with you. The last thing you need is to get into a shootout and run out of ammo because you thought only one person would come after you.”
He turned to Steele.
“We also need to let the sheriff know what’s coming,” he said. “I know that Sheriff Davis already came and took a report, but I don’t think he understands yet what’s just happened. The Bandits aren’t going to behave. There are no barriers. The town has to understand it’s about to get even darker and more dangerous.”
“Understood,” Steele said. “I’ll call him now.”
“OK,” he said. “I—”
His phone rang. He looked down, and though I didn’t intend to pry, it wasn’t hard to guess that the woman that popped up on his screen was Tara. He pressed a few buttons to ignore the call.
“Now then,” he said. “Mason, Connor. I want you two to—”
His phone rang again. This time, he answered.
“Can I call you back?”
His face went from annoyed to concerned almost in an instant.
“Shit. We’ll send someone over.”
