“Been waiting for this moment for a long time, Donovan,” Allen says. He circles like a shark, homed in on the Sinner prez at his feet.
When I sense the fury rolling off him, I tighten my grip on Grace and pull her back a little.
“This is your reckoning,” he says to the man on the ground. “The day you pay for what you took.”
Slowly, Axe pushes up on his knees, head hanging. “You’ll have to be more specific, Sergeant. I’ve taken a lot of things from a lot of people.”
Allen hums, wrist twitching like he’s ready to shoot. “September twenty-third, 2013. Ring any bells?”
Axe tilts his head, like he’s trying to recall a memory that no longer exists.
I, on the other hand, remember that date well. At least, I remember the news coverage. The bloody end to the civil war between two Sinner charters. Jimmy Donovan vs. Rick McKenna. The retaliation for what my biological father did to Grace’s mother.
Rick wasn’t there that day. It’s why Jack and I were the ones who eventually took him out. Why I dug the hole that put him in the ground. But the men who attacked Grace’s mother were hunted down and killed first. Sinner on Sinner violence. A highway shoot-out that left the asphalt littered with bullets and covered in blood.
“Of course you wouldn’t remember,” Allen seethes, his face red under the bright lights. “Men like you have no fucking regard for human life. No fucking capacity to understand that the shit you do has consequences.”
He takes a step forward. He wears the same look I do. The same hollowed-out expression, the emptiness lingering behind all that hate. Anger. It’s what it does. It chips away at you. At your soul. And it turns you into this. It killed my old man and it’s been slowly killing me for ten damn years.
“Your club was too busy shooting up the fucking road to care where your bullets were landing,” he shouts. “Two civilians died that day. And a cop. Mybrother.He caught a bullet to the throat and died on scene. You killed him. Yourclubkilled him.”
Axe squints, like he’s processing the information. Then he blinks a few times and shakes his head. “I didn’t…” More blinking. He’s hurt. I didn’t notice how hurt until this moment. “I… I didn’t do that. That wasn’t me.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Allen screams, face nearly purple now, spittle flying as he jabs the gun into Axe’s chest. “I don’t care whose bullet it was. It was your fucking club. YOU FUCKING DID THIS!”
“Sergeant,” I warn. “Let’s just calm down. All right? Let’s?—”
“No. No, he needs to admit it. To atone before he dies. Confess your fucking sins,Sinner.”
“I wasn’t there that day,” Axe says. “It was before my time. It was…” Axe’s mouth pulls into a thin line, as if biting down on his words.
Allen’s muscles lock up, that gun still in his hand, finger on the trigger. “Before your time,” he repeats slowly. “Then it was your father.”
Axe says nothing. The one rule. No one talks. The code written into their DNA. He’ll take a bullet before sending Allen after his old man.
“I pored over the reports from that day a million times,” Allen says, his eyes wild, glassy. “There wasonewitness. And you know who they described in their statement, Donovan? You. To a fucking tee. But you and Jimmy look alike, don’t you? Spitting image, really, now that I think about it.”
He’s fucking unhinged, limbs twitchy, breath ragged. With each passing moment, he loses a little more of his control.
I find myself stepping in front of Grace again, my body a blockade against whatever happens next.
Allen smiles. “This is a good thing. You know why?” He scratches at his temple with the barrel of his gun, that menacing smile of his growing. “Because I gottwoof Jimmy’s spawn right here at my fucking feet, just waiting to eat a bullet. And when you’re dead, he’s next. I’ll eradicate your entire fucking bloodline. Because he took mine. He took my brother. A good man.” He steps closer, pulling Axe towards him roughly by his collar. “Brandon Joseph Allen. Say his fucking name. The man you’re gonna die for. Say his name.”
Behind me, Grace’s whole body shakes.
Slowly, I shuffle her towards the hangar, to shelter.
There’s a way out of this. I can fix this.
Axe stays silent, his jaw locked tight.
Allen throws him to the ground, spitting on him as he falls.
As he hits the dirt, the Sinner prez locks eyes with me. The man I’ve hated for the last decade. All my life, really. We share a look. An understanding. And his shoulders cave in a little. Because he knows, like I know.
There’s no getting out of this.
I clear my throat, trying desperately to quell the fear rising up my esophagus, the panic swirling in my stomach, the thoughts racing through my mind. Gotta get that gun out of his hand. Get Grace far the fuck away from here. I need this feeling to go away—this punch to the chest, the weight crushing down on my lungs—so I can fucking think.
