“Great,” I say as I turn off my bike. “That’s exactly what I wanted to ask. What time?” I put my helmet on the saddle.
“Nine.” My younger brother puts a cigarette between his lips, tilts his head and brings his lighter to the tip.
“Perfect. Come, Brandon, we’ll ask if you can stay with Layne and Rebel.” I nod at my apartment. He immediately follows me and together we walk up the stairs.
“Layne,” I call out once we are upstairs.
Standing in the kitchen, I look into the room and see that both of the other girls are as well. “Can Brandon stay with you guys today?” Before I even finish my sentence, Rebel throws herself around his neck.
“Of course.” Layne’s fingers find mine, and I give them a squeeze. “By the way, I might have an idea, but I’ll discuss it with the girls before I pitch it to you and Brooks.” She gives me a warm look and I nod.
“Fine. I’ll hear about it later. We have to go to chapel, so I have to leave,” I say with regret in my voice, and throw my thumb over my shoulder. Still, I take a step toward her, then hesitate briefly before I continue. Standing in front of her, I press a kiss on top of her head. “See you later, ‘kay?” I search her face for something, but I have no idea what that something is.
“Yeah, see you later.” She nods, and strangely, that comment brings relief. A grin spreads across my lips and when she plants a kiss on them, something akin to relief floods through me. Then I head back outside.
“Come on,” I say to Brooks when I’m back downstairs.
Together, we walk into the chapel. I take a seat next to my father and nod at Brooks. “He’s on edge,” I whisper to Kai.
“Was afraid of that,” Dad hums. Then he slides a sheet of paper across the table. “We got mail.”
I glance down at the sheet and swallow my surprise. “What the fuck’s this?”
“We’re all here,” my father says, banging the hammer on the table. “Okay, listen up.” Everyone turns their attention to him and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “A letter’s been delivered.”
“What kind of fucking letter?” Brooks roars, trying to stand up.
My father holds his hand up. “It’s from Vanderberg. It’s obvious he’s afraid of him.” Kai nods to Brooks.
“Then he’s smarter than I thought,” my best friend says flatly.
My father doesn’t respond to the comment and instead starts reading the letter aloud.
“Tomorrow around three o’clock, a black car will back up to the gate of the MC. The trunk will open automatically. Inside, you’ll find the body of Mrs. Paisley. The driver is unaware of his cargo; threatening him is pointless, as he’s a hired employee.
“I want to make it clear that it was never our intention for any of them to die.
“Karl Ericssen shot her. We’re aware that Mrs. Hayes won’t go to the police about her husband. So, we’ve decided that the case’s closed for us. Both Mrs. Hayes and her daughter will be left alone by me and my organization.
“I hope you’re satisfied with this. Now that you have Mrs. Paisley’s body, hopefully, this matter is resolved.
“Sincerely, Nick Vanderberg.”
The groan that comes out of Kai’s mouth when he finishes reading suggests that even he isn’t done with this.
Brooks bangs his fist on the table. “What is that moron thinking? That he can take my wife from me with no consequences and then return her in a fucking box?”
“No.” My father’s voice is eerily calm. “No, he can’t. What you’re going to do tomorrow is accept your wife’s body. You’re going to make sure she gets a proper burial, that she gets everything she should’ve gotten in fifty years. You’ll make sure someone comes to help you take care of Brandon. Because you need someone to help you.” Kai sighs. “And then you’re going to search and ask around. You’re going to do everything in your power to find out everything you can about Nick Vanderberg, Karl Ericssen, and anyone else who had anything to do with her death. Do you understand, Brooks?”
He sniffs. “That bastard’s death.”
Now it’s my father who’s banging his fist on the table. “Do you understand, Brooks?” He runs a hand over his face. “First, take care of everything for your wife and son, and then… Then comes sweet revenge.”
Brooks nods.
“Tomorrow at half-past eight, you’ll be standing at that gate until that car arrives.” His gaze sweeps over the others. “I want the rest of you to report anything you hear about the Knights of Mayhem, Nick Vanderberg, or that Karl Ericsson to me. Nothing happens without Brooks’ permission. It’s his wife, his decision. Understood?”
All the men shout “Aye.” And as soon as my father brings down the gavel, the meeting is over.
