“Smart,” Sandman muttered as we all turned to look at the larger-than-life man who barely ever said two words.
Kansas sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Look, nobody’s defending what Pence did. But the system’s got to run its course. The last thing we need is vigilante justice turning this into a bigger disaster.” The tension in the room was thick, with everyone exchanging heated glances.
Finally, the attorney cleared his throat, shuffling some papers as my phone started ringing again. Seeing the caller, I ignored the attorney as he said, “I’ll keep you posted on the bail hearing. For now, it’s best to stay clear and let the legal process unfold.”
Waving him off, I answered, “King, I can’t deal with him right now.”
“I’m not asking you to deal with him. I’m keeping him.”
“The fuck you are.”
King groaned and breathed heavily before he added, “I’m keeping him here until we figure out what the hell happened.”
“Keep him safe, King.”
“He’s my brother, Reaper.”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “He is.”
The line was silent as I digested everything King said, while Montana squared off with Kansas once more.
Groaning, I shook my head. “I have to deal with this shit in Oklahoma, then I’m coming there.”
“Speaking of Oklahoma,” King said. “There’s something you need to know about Alice Cavanaugh.”
Chapter Ten
Ravage
“Bad enough I’ve got to deal with you,” King said, pointing at the big burly man glaring across the table at me, “but now him.” Sighing, the president of the Silver Shadows plopped down in his seat at the end of the table, leaned back in his chair, and hung his head back as he closed his eyes.
Cash, his vice president chuckled. “At least Ravage isn’t Massacre, so that’s something.”
King slowly turned to look at his VP and growled, “Really? That’s all you have to say?” When Cash shrugged but said nothing more, King sat up and sighed. “I don’t know if you heard, Ravage, but the Death Dogs attacked my club. Killed one of my brothers and two girls and wounded several others. I’ve got brothers still in the hospital and some here that need a few more days before they are back at one hundred percent, so whatever shit you are in, I hope you have a plan to get out of it, because I’m spread too thin. And before you say anything, I don’t give a damn what Reaper said. I’ve got my own problems.”
Grunting, I winced as I slowly got to my feet. “Sorry I brought more trouble to your doorstep. I’ll leave.”
“Sit your ass back down,” King snarled, pointing at me. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I just asked if you had a fucking plan? Are you fucking hurt?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Cash, text Patch,” King ordered.
“I said it was nothing,” I growled.
“My house. My rules,” King snarled. “Now sit the fuck down.”
King stared hard at me, his jaw tight, waiting for me to follow his order. I glanced at Nav, who gave me a quick nod, silent support in his eyes. The room felt heavy, the tension thick between us. I ran a hand over my wounds and finally muttered, “I’ve got something in mind, but I need a few days.”
King didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he nodded. “You’ve got forty-eight hours, Ravage. Don’t make me regret this.”
Moments later, Patch, the Silver Shadows’ doctor, walked in. “Who’s hurt now?”
King, Cash and Nav instantly pointed at me.
Patch dropped a bag on the table and ordered, “Cut and shirt off. I need to see what I’m working with.”
Doing as the doc said, I removed my cut and placed it on the table, then painfully removed my shirt. The second I did it, I heard the gasps and growls. I knew what they were seeing, and I didn’t fucking care. Every scar, every wound was a testament to survival. I wouldn’t allow them to diminish that.
