Page 69 of Burn Me Down

“Fair question,” he mumbled and swore under his breath.

“You need to have patience, my friend. If your contact said that they would all be meeting here tonight, then why blow your load early? Is that a habit you make with your girl too?”

“Oh, funny, considering who is asking the question.” He crossed his arms, the glower on his face making him look more childlike than prez of an MC.

“I may have been a late bloomer, but I’ll take you on if you want to test my endurance,” I said and leaned against the truck.

“You know, I think I liked gloomy, introverted you and not this version of an annoying asshole, and did you call me friend?”

“It was a figure of speech.”

Smirking, I turned my attention back to our target through the trees. The huge steel building that doubled as a clubhouse for the Screaming Eagles was out in the middle of nowhere. After I set the explosives, I made sure all the lookouts were at a minimum of a half mile away. The explosion from the blast was going to be bigger than anything I’d attempted yet—all thanks to the massive tanks of gasoline and propane stored on the property.

“Why are we hitting this MC anyway,” I asked as more motorcycles pulled up and parked in the long line by the building. “You said it was an old beef?”

“Yeah, I have no fucking clue why they hated my father, but we’ve been at war since I was born, and this is a chance for me to wipe them, and all those conspiring against the Lost Souls, out completely once and for all.”

“You have a lot of enemies, brother,” I drawled as a pickup truck arrived.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m not a people person.”

The radio crackled, and Snake came over the CB. “That was the prez arriving in the truck. We’re good to cook as he goes inside.”

Opening the truck door, I grabbed my detonator and looked at Chase. “Last chance to make peace before you can’t go back?”

Chase’s lip pulled up as he snarled. “Burn it down.”

I flicked open the device, but my thumb hovered over the button. Beck’s smile and sweet expression entered my mind, and for the first time since I turned seventeen, I hesitated.

“What’s the matter?”

I held out the detonator to him. “This is your war. I’m just a weapon. You do it.”

Chase plucked it out of my hand, his face morphing into rage as he slammed his thumb down on the button and then ducked a moment later as an eruption like a nuclear bomb went off behind me. I didn’t flinch, nor did I need to look. It would be glorious, and yet, I suddenly wanted nothing more than to get home instead of relishing in the dancing flames. Was I broken now, or was I healed? Fuck, life was filled with confusing twists.

“Let’s go,” I said and nudged Chase’s arm.

Hopping in the truck, I pulled out of the field and onto the backroad, the smoke billowing like a smoke stack in my rearview mirror. I didn’t even know how many that brought my death count up to and looked away.

Chase’s phone dinged, and he growled as he fought to get it out of his pocket. “The news of the explosion is spreading quickly. Reports are already up on news apps.” I didn’t say anything and just kept my eyes on the road, watching out for cops. “Huh, that’s interesting.”

“What’s that,” I asked, only partially paying attention.

“There was a kid killed back at Christmas time. He was burnt alive in a garbage can.” My head snapped in Chase’s direction. “This looks like your work. Did you do this?” Chase held up the phone to show me the park with yellow crime scene tape and a black body bag in the background.

“What if I did?”

Chase snickered. “Well, then you better be thankful this kid’s father is dead.”

“Let me guess, he was some politician’s son?”

“Naw, man, that would be better.” My brow furrowed. “It says here that the remains were confirmed as Mark Grady after a fire that made identifying his badly charred body difficult. His death completes the tragic tale of this troubled family. It began with the murder of Shannon Grady. Mark Grady struggled with drug addiction and was in and out of hospitals from the age of fifteen for attempting to take his own life on several occasions. Mark suffered severe harassment and bullying after his mother's death when his father, Adam Grady, who turned out to be a notorious serial killer, was named the prime suspect. Mr. Grady was killed in the Manor Hill Asylum fire almost a year ago.”

My blood ran ice cold, my hands tightening on the steering wheel as my heart beat out of control. “How old is that article?”

“A month ago. Why do you look like you just saw a ghost,” Chase asked.