“Mine’s dead,” Finn said, wrinkling his nose. “Can I call you Pop, too?”
“Sure, pal,” I ground out.
“Nah, I like Dad better. That’s what Dyl calls you. Can I call you that?”
“Nice,” Dylan said, reaching out to fist bump with Finn.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my shit together even though none of them were paying attention to me anymore. “Whatever you want.”
“Bye, Dad,” Finn called with a short wave.
My hands were shaking as I let myself outside and locked the door behind me.
I’d already packed the bike, and Draco was parked next to it, waiting for me.
“You cool?” he asked.
“Kids just called me Dad,” I replied shortly as I pulled my helmet on.
“Fuck yeah,” he said with a wide smile. “Atta boy.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled as I turned on my bike. “Let’s get this done.”
We rode to the club first to meet up with some of the boys and then headed north. Casper’s contacts had taken a while, but like always, they came through in the end. The men had split up after they’d left our house, but neither of them had gone far.
We caught up to the first one at his trailer outside Stevenson, Washington. He’d found someone who was willing to rent it to him under a fake name, and he’d repaid the favor by cooking meth in it. When he opened the door, the stink made my eyes water.
I shot him where he stood.
Then we set the place on fire.
About a mile down the road, I instinctively ducked my head at the sound of the trailer exploding.
I didn’t feel any satisfaction as we continued north. I’d been given the opportunity to take care of the men who’d hurt my children however I chose to do so, but in the end, I just wanted to get it over with and get back to my family.
We found the second man on his way home from work, which was a stroke of good luck. He sped up when he realized we were behind him, panicking as we closed in, and on a curvy stretch of deserted road, he lost control.
I parked my bike and walked to the piece of shit car wrapped around a tree to make sure he was dead. I didn’t need to check for a pulse when I got there. The man hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, and his body hung halfway out of the broken windshield, his head caved in.
I stared at him. “Look at you,” I mumbled emotionlessly, looking into his vacant eyes. “Got off on hurtin’ kids, but when it came down to it, you were so afraid of the consequences you killed yourself.”
“Done?” my president asked as I walked back toward my bike.
“Done,” I confirmed. “Let’s go home.”
It was early morning when we rode back into town. We went straight back to the club, and I followed the group inside, leaving my phone on the bar as we filed into church. My grandfather, Casper, was already there, waiting.
“Get a good night’s rest?” Grease bitched at him as he rounded the table.
“I’ve been busy,” Casper replied, leaning back in his chair.
As soon as Dragon had lowered himself into his chair, Casper spoke again.
“Recently, a few interested parties have reached out,” he announced, his gaze on me. “And after speaking with them, we agreed on a course of action regarding David Granger.”
I straightened against the wall as Draco’s hand wrapped around my biceps.
“Early yesterday morning, one of those interested parties made their move,” he continued. “With no assistance from the Aces, they dismantled his organization and…reorganized to their satisfaction.”
