Prologue
Trent
“You all right?”Holt asked after hammering down the chilled shot of whiskey in hishand.
I thumbed the top of my rocks glass, shaking my head. “It’s all so fucked, yaknow?”
His hand landed firmly on my back then his fingers gripped at the leather of my cut for a few seconds. “We’ll get through this, brother. Abel would have wanted us to keep moving forward.” He let go, threw back another shot, and then continued, “We will make this right. Just have faith. We all need time to heal andgrieve.”
Holton Walsh was one of the best men that I knew. He was the vice president of our club, wearing the patch with honor. He had dedicated his entire life to becoming the best outlaw he could be, from running the bar, to helping out at the garage, never backing down from a fight and always putting the club above himself. I truly admiredhim.
“I hear ya, brother. It just all feels off,” I couldn’t help butadmit.
He pursed his lips and nodded. “We’ll get back onto an evenkeel.”
Holt shoved away from the bar to make his way over to where his son was sitting with Red, Collin, and Ozzy. We weren’t having a funeral for our fallen king; we just did what he would have wanted us to do: gather at our bar and betogether.
Even though we were all together, it didn’t feel right. Why weren’t we out searching for the motherfucker who shot Abel? Why weren’t we offing every Sinners member we could get our hands on? Why wasn’t anyone mad or at least showing it? Rage pumped through my veins. I couldn’t even thinkstraight.
Jesse slammed down onto the stool next to me with a throaty groan. “Raine, another? Please and thank you,sweetheart.”
Raine smiled sweetly with watery eyes at Jesse while opening a bottle of Bud for him. “Of course.” Without even asking, she filled my bourbon up and threw in a couple more ice cubes. “Doin’ good,Tre?”
I nodded while trying to smile at Abel’s daughter. She looked so much like him, it killed me. Her father was why I was alive; it didn’t seem right that I was still breathing and he was six feetunder.
Jesse turned to me. “How’re you holdingup?”
Fuckthis.
I chugged the rest of my drink, slammed the glass down on the bar top, and walked away withoutanswering.
How am I holding up?I’m fuckingnot.
Am I all right?Fuckno.
Am I mad as fuck?Hellyes.
I made my way into the restricted area in the back to get some privacy. I needed a shred of alone time or I was going to punchsomeone.
Looking into the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself. I saw the shell of the man I had become. How had I gotten so lost along the way? The years had built me up, stripped me down, burned me alive. I felt like a pile of ash getting tortured by the slightestbreeze.
Standing in the employee bathroom of the Unacceptables’ bar, I tried to piece it all together. Abel was dead. Regicide, the most despicable act—the lowest of the low, even for outlaws. Those fuckers were going to have to pay for what they’d done. Somehow, some way, revenge was going to have to happen. My faith in the skull and bones on my back was fading. My resolve to keep going was as well, but my brothers needed me, and I knew I somehow needed to pull my shit together for all our sakes. I just didn’t know how to at thatpoint.
I burst out of the bathroom and into the small office that used to be Abel’s. The fake wood paneling was fading and the dank room smells like beer and old socks. I stared at the pictures lining the walls. Abel smiling with different club members, baby pictures of Collin and Raine, pictures from Abel’s wedding day. I was about to turn to leave when one caught my eye. It was from the day I got patched in. Abel and Holt had their arms around my shoulders. Grabbing it off the wall, I removed the picture from its frame and slid it into my backpocket.
After rummaging in Abel’s desk for his electric clippers, I made my way back into the bathroom. I plugged them in and let the razor roar to life in my hand.Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.Line by line, my hair fell onto my shoulders and the floor. My sunken eyes bored holes in my soul as I let myself go back to my roots. I had to dig deep to see the man I once was, the broken Marine that was rescued on the side of the road by men incuts.
It was a lifetime ago, but in that moment, it felt like only yesterday that bikers were peeling my mangled body off the concrete in a dirtyalley.
“Hey man, you allright?”
The words faded into the darkness as I fought to understand where I was, who was talking, what the fuck was going on. I tried to open my swollen eyes, tried to form words. All I could do was spit out loogies filled with blood and choke repeatedly. Moaning like an imbecile, bloody and beaten within an inch of my life, I just lay there in a gutter liketrash.
“Fuck, I know this guy,” one of the men said. I knew I had heard the voice before, but I couldn’t place it. “Let’s get him back to my place,” the familiar voice continued, and I was so grateful. I had no idea who they were, how many of them there were, anything, but I was in no position to care. I needed help, and they were offering it tome.
“He’s pretty fucking banged up. Shouldn’t we take him to a hospital or something?” inquired an unfamiliar malevoice.
“Nah, Ava will know what to do.” That name, Ava…I knew that name.Where do I know it from? Who is this guy? Why can’t Iremember?
