I glanced at Razor and Inglorious. They seemed in agreement.
“As they stay away from the graveyard and church. That ain’t open to nosy fucks,” Hercules added.
“Any word from Rage?” Sabre inquired.
“None. Drake took Winslow’s report, and rumours say Rage has pulled back into the clubhouse and isn’t public right now. Drake’s gotta be hurting from that report. Rage didn’t handle Fury correctly, and they know it. That mistake will have cost thousands of lives when this wraps up,” Inglorious said.
“Why is it their fault? They weren’t aware of what Fury was doing,” Doc demanded.
“It is and it ain’t. Fury was a Rage founder, which makes them responsible for his actions. He wasn’t kicked, and Rage thought, but wasn’t sure, that he was dead. That’s the mistake. They should have traced Fury. And when he came to light, Rage should have moved and taken him out; instead, they delayed. Amongst all that is Ghost, he was close to Fury and could have taken the kill shot, but didn’t,” I explained.
“Rage had several shots at Fury and failed to take any. Fifty per cent of the blame falls on their shoulders for those who died. For someone like Drake Michaelson, that’s hard to swallow. Sure, the FBI fucked up. Other law enforcement screwed the pooch, too, but for men like us, what happened with Fury will haunt Drake. It’s tragic and sad, but the truth. Drake will lick his wounds before popping back up. Rage is too strong to fall,” Inglorious said.
I hoped so because Rage was a vital ally. Although if they fell, we’d survive. We’d already proved that once.
Chapter Eighteen.
Amy
The reporter looked almost gleeful as she reported the death of another survivor. I scowled at the bitch. This wasn’t fantasy; it was one more family devastated by loss. In disgust, I switched the TV off and checked on Arabella, who was sleeping in her bassinet next to the bed.
Renovations were starting on the house, although Vortex had asked Apache to include a huge playroom for the kids and add two further bedrooms. Apache had somehow managed to rush the plans through, and now it was full steam ahead. But even though it had been nearly four weeks since the accident, things weren’t settled.
The Feds still had no damn idea who their suspect was. As far as they were concerned, he was a fucking ghost. They didn’t know why he’d bombed the airship, although they’d figured out how he’d smuggled the bombs on board. The JTTF remained on site but with a far smaller team. God knows why; therewasn’t much left to investigate in Merritt. Recovery had been completed, and the field was empty.
The bodies had been identified, and funerals were happening. Media interest had faded unless something happened like today. The world moved on. People didn’t stare at me as frequently, although the town was jammed packed.
After President Winslow’s damning statement on the former president, fingers were being pointed. Once again, those who’d defended Rapid City were in the limelight, and that included the Unwanted Bastards. The MC who’d lost everyone bar three brothers. We’d had to put security on the clubhouse door, hired from the Fallen Warriors MC, who dealt with this type of problem. Visitors wanted to talk, take pictures, and be seen around the brothers.
Nanci had nearly been arrested twice for bitch-slapping a couple of women to our amusement. Once again, the game of Capture the Flag had been delayed, and I didn’t think it would happen until spring. We’d gone out yesterday to play, and dozens of people stared at us. Inglorious ordered everyone home amidst the camera flashes.
Life was continuing, and we were coping as best as possible. Sometimes I woke up screaming or crying, but Vortex was always there to soothe away any nightmare.
Things like this today brought back memories I didn’t want to remember. I reached down for my phone and dialled Papa.
“Have you seen the news?” Papa asked immediately.
“Yes.”
“Dad and I are taking Declan away for a few weeks. We’ll stay in touch, but we think we should start moving around. That way, Declan is difficult to locate,” Papa said.
“This is awful. Why is this man doing this?”
“Until he’s caught, we won’t know. But it’s unsafe for Declan. The culprit had no qualms about killing children before, and Declan’s high risk. Come with us, honey.”
A movement made me glance up. Vortex stood in the doorway, unashamedly listening.
“That can’t happen, Papa, my face is too recognisable. You have to blend in with Declan. Honestly, I’d bring you more attention.”
In my mind’s eye, I imagined Papa closing his eyes. He understood my argument was valid even though he might want to argue it. The best thing was leaving me behind.
“Plus, we’ve Arabella here, Papa, she needs me,” I said.
“When do we get to meet my granddaughter?” Papa demanded. I’d sent them loads of pictures and videos. Explaining the circumstances had been difficult, but Vortex claimed Kyleah had done a bunk. Vortex had made it clear, even though he was named on the birth certificate, Arabella wasn’t his blood. He hadn’t wanted my dads to believe that he’d lied about Kyleah. But he also asked that they keep Arabella’s birth parents’ secret.
My dads both respected the hell out of Vortex for that. Dad stated it would have been easy for Vortex to give Arabella up. Instead, Vortex had stepped up and behaved like a real man.
“When you get back. Hopefully, this will be resolved soon,” Vortex replied.
