Chapter Thirty-five
Eagle
“Cannon, check Angel.” Though I want to take her in my arms, I’m going to finish what I started first. I stalk to Bear’s side, brushing past his mother, and then jam my boot in his ribs, seeing if he’s still alive. He groans and I smile. “Told you I’d get you alone one day,” I say.
Hardly able to move, he lifts his head, holding his shoulder and bleeding from his mouth. The shot to the head only grazed his cheek. “Eagle,” he whispers.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Time to pay your debt.” I turn to his mother, pluck the gun out of her shaky hands, and give it to Big Jim. I’m more than sympathetic to her situation. “I don’t know who tipped you off, but I’m grateful for what you did to protect my wife.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “Is she really, Angel?”
We both eye Cannon. “I’ll explain everything later. Do you have a car?”
“In the back.”
“Leave with Cannon. Take Angel to the cabin.”
I watch as Cannon uses the handcuff key on his chain to free her hands. Then he lifts my unconscious wife off the mattress and cradles her gently in his arms. I nod at him and he walks out of the room with Angel’s mom in tow.
“What do you want to do with the asshole?” Big Jim asks.
We both hover over Bear. He’s still alive and slipping in and out of consciousness. If I call an ambulance, he might survive. But the line in the sand has been crossed. There’s no mercy left to give. No sanctuary for a Dead Dog motherfucker who was about to rape my wife—his own sister.
I spit on his face. “Sit him up,” I direct Big Jim.
He kneels beside Bear and forces him up. Bear mumbles something incomprehensible. I walk to the mattress where Angel was lying and grab a bottled water off the floor. Twisting the cap open, I fling it across the room, and then return to where Bear is sitting on the concrete. I dump the whole bottle over his head, enjoying the way his eyes pop open, stunned and in pain.
“Where’s my mother?” he asks.
“Gone,” I say.
“And your bitch?”
Growling, I pull my Glock out, twist my fingers in Bear’s long hair, and force his head back. Our gazes lock. He’s cognizant enough to know what’s about to happen. “That bitch is my wife, your sister, Angel.”
“That’s a fucking lie.”
I’m in his face, our foreheads touching. Big Jim stands up and retreats several steps, leaving me to deal with him. “Angel wasn’t murdered. She staged her own death to get away from you. To start a new life. And now we’re married. There’s nothing you can do to ever hurt her again.” I chamber a round and hold the gun to his temple. “Say hello to Reggie for me.” I pull the trigger and blow half his head off.
Blood spatters across my face and chest and covers the wall behind him. I don’t care. I’m numb to anything associated with the Dead Dogs, especially Angel’s brothers. I’m responsible for both of their deaths now. Justifiable homicides. Like plague, these two were a threat to public safety. No one will miss Bear. Just like no one mourned Reggie’s loss except the junkies he sold meth to.
Big Jim taps my shoulder from behind and I slowly rise, unable to look away from Bear’s corpse.
“We need to get out of here,” my brother says.
I hold my hand up. “Take a picture of that motherfucker.”
“Understood,” Big Jim says.
I leave the room and make my way outside. When I step into the sunshine, I’m shocked to find a dozen brothers waiting for me.
“Jesus Christ,” Tonsils says as he rushes over. “What happened?” He brushes a chunk of brain matter off my cut.
“The Dead Dogs are without a president today,” I inform him. “Angel is safe.”
“That’s solid, brother.” We fist bump.
“Burn the place down after Big Jim comes outside.” Done with everything, I walk through the open gates and down the road. Once I reach the place where I parked my bike, I drop to my knees and thank God for giving me yet another chance with my beloved Angel.
