Henry’s eyes widen, but he quickly tries to school his expression. Though it’s too late, everyone saw it.
“So what makes you think it’s me?” Henry snaps with a bite in his tone as he scrambles for control. “Donnie knows, and obviously your whole club knows. I was doing the job you gave me?—”
“Which brings me to my next question,” Alder says firmly. “What job were you doing?”
Henry blinks. “What? I’ve been tracking the gun suppliers. Like you told me to.”
Alder nods in a way that suggests he doesn’t buy it. “Mm-hm.” Then he gives a small nod to Mac.
Mac steps forward and drives his fist straight into the middle of Henry’s face.
I flinch and suck in a breath as Henry’s head jerks back, and blood spills down his chin from his nose. It glistens on his face in the light as Mac steps away again, and Henry groans.
“What job were you doing?” Alder asks again.
Henry spits blood onto the ground as it drips from his face. “The one you fucking asked me to do.”
Rex moves in this time, landing his fist hard into the side of his face. Henry falls to the side, groaning again as he struggles to move upright.
“Fuck!” Henry yells, spitting more blood into the dirt.
“What job were you doing?” Alder repeats calmly, but the demand underneath it is hard to ignore.
I swallow hard, unable to look away. My heart is racing as adrenaline pumps through me so hard my hands are tingling. I don’t even want to blink in case I miss something. Alder stands still before him, a presence so strong, overwhelming, and terrifying it’s like he’s gravity in human form… too strong to fight and too dangerous to ignore.
Henry spits again and lifts his eyes to Alder with a wild, furious glare. But he doesn’t answer.
Alder tilts his head, watching him closely. “I can answer for you, then.”
He pauses for a moment, but Henry just continues to stare up at him, chest heaving, face painted red, and eyes full of fury.
“You’re feeding the Sons information on us,” Alder says. “And tracking the gun suppliers was your way in. I don’t know which came first… but that doesn’t matter now. A rat is a fucking rat.” He reaches into his cut and pulls out his gun.
Henry’s eyes fall to the gun as Alder flicks the safety off. His head shakes fast, and his breath catches. “No, Alder, no, I’m not, I swear, I?—”
Alder lowers the barrel to the dirt beside Henry’s knee, his eyes still locked on him. “Swear what?”
Henry stares back at him as he begins trembling, and blood drips onto his collar. But he doesn’t speak.
“You’re at a dead end here, Henry,” Alder says. “You’re the only one this information could have come from.” He lifts the gun and points it directly at Henry’s head. “So you’re going to answer some questions. Right now.”
I instinctively take a step backwards, even though my eyes are glued to the sight before me. Cory turns to look at me, and I stop, meeting his gaze. He gestures with a tilt of his head behind the van, giving me an out if I don’t want to see this. But I shake my head and turn back to Alder and Henry.
“Did the Sons move in on the gun supplier?” Alder asks.
Henry hesitates, and stammers, “I… I don’t know?—”
Trip steps forward and lands a blow to the side of his face, sending Henry toppling sideways. Trip then grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him upright, forcing him back onto his knees.
Alder doesn’t move, keeping the gun aimed at the centre of Henry’s forehead.
“I’m going to give you one more chance to answer that one,” Alder says.
Henry pulls in a sharp breath. He’s unravelling now as his eyes dart around, and the hostility and defensiveness seems to slip away as he realizes he’s not going to be getting out of this.
“Yes,” he says finally. “The Sons own the guns.”
“Fuck,” Cory mutters beside me, and my eyes flick between the rest of the Kings, seeing their jaws set and fists clench.
