He didn’t speak right away, but continued to stare at me with those ice-blue eyes.Then, slowly, he turned and opened the safe in the corner and pulled something out.
He turned and held it out for me. A creased photo, faded over time.
Caleb, when he was younger. Smiling, just as I remembered him, always smiling. He was standing next to Jay, arm over his shoulder, both wearing their kuttes.
“He loved this club,” Jay said, looking at the picture. “Until he didn’t.”
I swallowed hard, remembering how happy Caleb had been back then. “Why was the kutte on his body?”
“You think the club buried him in that kutte?” Jay’s voice dropped. “That was me. I snuck it onto the coffin. No one else knows. I couldn’t let him go without it.”
I froze. My whole theory had been shattered. I swallowed hard. “So, it wasn’t a warning?”
Jay’s eyes hardened. “No, but I think his death was.”
A knock at the door prevented me from responding.
Riot pushed open the door and leaned in. “Pres, need you out front. Now.”
“What is it?” Jay snapped.
“We got a problem. A prospect jumped the line, told others about the shipment hit and the missing money. One of the Fangs came looking for something and didn’t like what he found.”
Jay swore under his breath. “Stay here,” he told me, placing the photo back in the safe and closing it tight before he left the room.
But I didn’t stay put. I couldn’t. If I truly wanted in, then I needed to prove that I could be a part of whatever was going on.
I followed Jay and Riot through the hallway and back to the front room, just in time to see two Dead Knights dragging a beaten and bloodied man through the door. He was younger, like Caleb was when he’d joined the club. He was limping and mumbling something through what I thought could be a broken jaw.
I watched Jay, waiting for his reaction, but his face and posture gave nothing away. I thought maybe he would have the guy ushered into a side room and treated, but I was wrong.
Jay stalked straight up to him and punched him in the gut. The young man folded, coughing blood splatters over the wooden floor.
“Who let this idiot talk to the Fangs?” Jay yelled.
No one answered, and most of the men wouldn’t meet Jay’s eyes.
The kid continued to cough blood, and Jay didn’t even flinch. His fist came down again, hard, knuckles cracking against ribs that were probably already purple.
I felt bile rise in my throat. This wasn’t Caleb’s best friend. This wasn’t the boy who bought me sodas and smirked when I choked on smoke. This was a monster. I watched, frozen, as his fist came down again and again.
“Jesus Christ, Jay,” I yelled. Every head turned, but I didn’t care. “He’s a kid, not your enemy.”
Jay’s jaw flexed, blood spattered across his knuckles as he finally straightened. “He knew the rules and he crossed the line. That makes him a liability.”
“Liability?” I stepped closer, heat flooding my veins. “He’s a human being, not some broken bike part you can replace.”
He turned, slow and deliberate, and for a second, the whole clubhouse went quiet. His eyes burned into me. “You think I can keep this club alive by playing nice? You think Caleb survived as long as he did because I gave a shit about mercy?”
My breath caught at Caleb’s name, sharp and jagged. “Don’t you dare use him to justify this.”
His nostrils flared. “I don’t have to justify anything to you, princess. Not my choices, not my patch, not the blood on my hands.”
I was shaking, but it wasn’t fear. It was rage and grief, fire clawing its way out of me. “You’re right. You don’t have to justify it, but don’t pretend you’re doing this for Caleb. He would’ve hated what you just did.”
Something broke across his face then, something raw, ugly, and human. He closed the distance between us in two strides, crowding me back against the wall before I could breathe. His hand went to my throat, not choking but controlling.
“You don’t know a damn thing about what Caleb would’ve hated,” he yelled. “You don’t know what he begged me to do to keep him alive. What he begged me not to tell you.”
