I knock on it. “Brooks?”
Various noises come from behind the door, but I can’t identify them. I carefully open it and peek around the corner.
“Brandon, go back inside.” His voice is abrupt.
“It’s me,” I respond.
There’s a black duffel bag on the floor. It’s open and filled with all kinds of shit, from concrete cutters to an extra box of ammo for his gun. “What the hell are you planning to do?”
“Please tell Brandon he can go to your mom’s,” he mumbles and throws his machete into the bag. What’s he planning to do with that? Like some kind of ninja…
“Sure, but that’s not what I asked. Maybe we should make some arrangements for him.” I need to talk to Layne about this, I decide. Maybe she’ll have an idea, because that kid can’t depend on Brooks alone. He’s too young for that, and Brooks isn’t home at regular hours. There’s no way he can grow up anywhere else but with his father. “Brooks, what the fuck are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” he exclaims. “That fucker’s a dead man.”
“I get that, but what are you about to do?” I plant myself in front of him, legs spread, arms crossed.
“Think, Kyler. I’m going to track that guy down and tear him apart. I’ll do it slowly, piece by piece, so he squeals like a pig at slaughter.” The murderous gleam in his eyes is obvious.
“You’re not gonna do that.”
He jumps up and pushes me. “I’ll decide that myself. It’s not your wife who didn’t come home, asshole.”
“No, but it’s your son who I gotta tell that both his mom and dad aren’t coming home. And that’s something I refuse to do. Wasn’t I clear yesterday?” I jab my index finger into his chest. “What you’re going to do is come with me to the club and discuss what the plan’s going to be to get Jen’s body back and how we can punish that bastard without you getting yourself killed. Do you understand?”
“Goddammit,” he yells. He throws his arms over his head. Then he pulls his head down and sinks to his knees. A scream comes out of him that cuts through me.
I carefully put my hand on his shoulder. “He’s yours, okay? You can deal with him. But we have to do this the smart way.”
When he looks up, it’s as if his soul has been torn in two. “Why are you right? I can’t do this, Kyler. Without her… How? Brandon…” And then he collapses onto his ass. A loud thud echoes through the garage and he hangs his head between his legs. “She didn’t deserve to die. I do, Ky. Why her?”
“If I knew the answer, I would’ve told you, mate. They should’ve kept their fucking hands off her.” I hold out my hand to him. “Come on. We’ll take Brandon to Mom, and you’re coming with me to the chapel. We’ve got shit to sort out.”
Thank God he does as I say. He clamps his hand around mine and I pull him to his feet. His fingers close around the zipper of the bag and he pulls it shut with a quick movement, then lifts it up.
“Brandon,” my best friend says as we step through the door into the kitchen.
Brandon is slumped over the dining table. It’s obvious he’s been crying. The kid has red eyes, and barely touched his food.
“Shit,” Brooks mutters and drops his bag. With a deep sigh, he crouches down in front of his son. “Listen,” he says. “Ky’s right. I’m going to do better for you, but I’m also going to catch your mom’s killer. I’ll be as careful as possible, I promise. I don’t want you to be left alone, okay? But sometimes I need someone to remind me of that, to help me remember that I’m not the only one who lost Mom.” Brooks runs a hand through his hair.
“No, you’re not,” Brandon mumbles.
“I don’t really know what to do either. I’m doing what I can, okay, Bran?”
Man, I feel like an intruder. This is a conversation between the two of them, and I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Okay, Dad. Promise?”
“Promise.” Brooks nods, and Brandon throws his arms around his father’s neck. “Get your helmet. I’ll ask Abby if you can stay there.”
“Can’t I go to Layne and Rebel’s?” The kid looks at me.
Shrugging my shoulders, I hum, “Let’s check when we get to the club. If the situation allows it, I’m fine with it.”
Without another word, Brandon retrieves his helmet. A few minutes later, I have a black overnight bag strapped to the back of my bike and Brandon climbs on the back of Brooks.
As we enter the compound, Colt and Pax are directly in our path. “Dad called us to the chapel.”
