Page 10 of Revenant's Fire

“I don’t like a lot of people outside the MC,” Mercy begins, “but I like Sunny. She’s good people.” Mercy turns and heads into her room, the conversation over.

I stare at her closed door for a moment before shaking off her words. I jab at the phone screen as I dial Hollis.

“Hollis and Sons Funeral Home.”

“Hey, it’s Revenant. Nana passed in her sleep.”

There’s a beat of silence before rustling. “Oh, that’s sad to hear. Is the deceased at the hospital?”

“No, she died at home. The clearing near the edge of town.”

“Right. We can have someone there to collect her in five. Will you be needing the dearly departed package?”

“Yes, with cremation. If you know of someone who can help with sorting through her possessions, that would be most kind.”

“Home goods?”

“Vehicles.

A grunt. “Most certainly. We will be in touch. My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up the phone then check the time on the screen. Good. An hour or so before my standing appointment with Pastor Richards. I move down the hall, hesitating slightly at the closed door of my room. Balling up my fist I keep moving. Sunny doesn’t need me. She may think she wants me, but she’s wrong. She doesn’t know me. Not the real me.

Chapter Eight

Gallows

Ilean back against the scuffed wooden table watching Hush and Coyote. They work in tandem, stripping the men down, getting in hits here and there to make them a little more compliant.

“Fuck me, they stink,” Coyote grumbles under his breath.

“That, my sweet, innocent brother is the stench of a meth head.” Jubilee offers with a grin.

“Hose ‘em down,” I growl.

As much as I enjoy watching my Enforcer and SAA break men down, I also want it to be enjoyable for those of us in the VIP seats.

Hush nods once, then heads over to the high pressure hose Momma keeps in here. It’s not lost on me that the place we gotta use for these types of moments is the same place Momma puts down Thanksgiving turkeys or the cattle that’ll keep the brothers well fed.

Coyote kicks one of the Sinister Wolves into the high pressure spray and the fucker is almost blown back by the force.

“Fuck me,” Jubilee mumbles beside me. “How the fuck did these junkies think they would take over our patch?”

I huff out a breath. If it’s not these guys, it’ll be someone else. The thing city boys don’t get is the mountains. All they see is hillbillies. They see a podunk town, we see family. Generations spread out through every holler and back road for a hundred miles. Folks around here are good people. Give you the shirts off their backs. City boys look at that and see easy prey. That’s why we’re here. Keep the outsiders respectful. In one way or another.

I click my tongue, “The thing about junkies is they always thinkin’ big.”

Jubilee snorts. He sits quietly beside me, but I know he’s itching to ask.

“Ask.”

“Huh?”

“Just ask, brother.”

He side eyes me for a moment, his ever present smirk sitting on his lips. “You ain't gonna just tell me?”