Warden stands over him, breathing erratic and coming out in angry huffs.
“I’m sick and tired of these fucked up prospects fucking shit up for me. All I asked for was a little reconnaissance on that newfucking club that decided to form in town, and this motherfucker almost blew his cover.”
“Well, now he’s fucking dead.”
Warden throws up his hands, the club watching him spiral. “Fuck him. I need something on these guys, something that will stick and make them second think going up against us. But I got nothing except your fucked up rivalry with their Prez. That one eyes motherfucker doesn’t deserve that patch on his chest. Passive, lacking fight. Who the fuck decides to create a club that follows the law, knowing that a club like ours exists in this town. There’s not enough room for the both of us.”
He kicks the kid on the floor, his body slightly twitching.
I can’t look away; my eyes hyper fixated on the blood leaking down his face and the deadness in his eyes. My chest tightens as he morphs before my eyes, my sister’s face replacing his, the barren wasteland of survivor’s guilt crippling me.
“You’re not going to touch Joe Frazier. He’s mine,” Arturo growls, hands curling into angry fists.
The name hits me harder than it should.Surely, it’s not the same Joe Frazier I’ve known for half of my life?
“You can have the old one-eyed bastard; it’s his son I want to eradicate from existence. It was his idea to form the club, and he rides around town like he fucking belongs here.” He smashes a hand on one of the tables, breaking the fragile wood like it’s made out of particle board. “This is my town!”
“This is Moseley’s town,” Arturo argues.
Warden smirks. “So the bastard thinks. The only reason my uncle has any pull around here is because he has me doing all of his dirty work for him. The bastard doesn’t have a fucking backbone and hides behind his hired guns. That’s why this is my town. My uncle’s reign will come to an end, but when I’m ready to spill his blood. But first, we gotta take out these bastard Elm Street Riders, their one-eyed freak of a Prez, and the fuckinghothead son of his. I know he’s the key to bringing them down, but how are we going to coax his son out? He’s not seeing anyone, his mother is hard to get to, and he doesn’t have any siblings?” Warden fires back.
“Are you talking about Eddie Frazier?” I question, even though everything about me is currently on edge.
The entire club’s heads swivel my way, Warden’s eyes narrowing. “You know them?”
I nod, the movement feels heavier than it should. “That bastard is the reason my sister is dead, and I lost everything in my life!” My voice carries across the room; the wounds still fresh after all this time.
“What do you know about him?” Warden asks, stepping closer, eyes widening with wonder.
“Everything,” I whisper. “Too much.”
Warden smiles with glee. “Tell me how I can make that motherfucker snap. What’s his weakness?”
“Amber,”I shout internally.
“Tell me how to bring him down, and I’ll give you what you want,” Warden whispers, now close enough for me to see the speckles of blood covering his face.
“If you want to bring Eddie Frazier down, you have to hit him where it hurts. His family.”
“Off limits,” Warden growls, “at least for now.”
“Not that family,” I tell them. “His found one. His friends are his life. If you take out one of his two best friends, you’ll definitely make him snap.”
“Are you talking about that tall, lanky motherfucker that always walks around with a mask?” Arturo questions.
My head bobs again. “Yes.” Though my stomach twists at the thought.Why am I throwing Rich into the mix like this?
“He’s always with the hothead. I’m not going to be able to get him alone,” Warden says more to himself than to me. “Who’s his other friend? Maybe we can get to him?”
“His name is Wesley Dover, but good luck getting to him. He’s in prison.”
Warden’s smile sadistically spreads. “Is he now?”
“Yeah, the motherfucker got his ass locked up trying to protect me. Now he’s stuck in Ely prison for the next four years.”
Arturo’s head turns my way. “So, he means something to you?” His mouth pulls into a disapproving frown, one mixed with a scowl that only resides in the arch of his eyes.
“No, I hate his guts, almost as much as I hate Eddie’s.”If this is all true… why does my heart hurt at the thought of them hurting Wesley?Shaking off the unwelcome thoughts, I try to keep my composure the best I can, doing whatever I can to school the regret from my eyes and tone.
