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Only one way to end this thing. Once and for all.
My father’s dagger stands lodged in the table’s wood, the red ruby daring me to touch it. To take it. To use it.
The blade that’s given me countless scars. Pirate loves to watch as it rips through my skin, slicing my back to ribbons, my arms, my chest. Under my tattoos, there is a galaxy of scars, almost all of them inflicted by this very weapon.
Shuffling closer, my hands become slippery with sweat and they shake. No one seems to be looking at me, all too transfixed by Trinity’s wild fight for freedom. With a deep breath, I reach out, grasping the blade. The black hilt singes my fingers, but I harden my jaw and tighten my grip. The fear is in my mind, not my body, and with a grunt, I push through. My arms burn as I lift it from the wood. Claiming it. Making it mine.
My mouth goes dry as Trinity finds Venom. Her sobs break something in my soul, shattering my tenuous hold. My girl has been through too much and I’m not sure I can ever bring her back from it. Her devastated cries as she slides across the floor covered in fluids and blood is an image that will haunt me for eternity.
Her despair fills me with purpose; determination to stand against my monster in order to avenge her.
His reign of terror has ended. This kingdom belongs to me.
“Hey,” I shout over the noise, causing much of it to cease. Lifting the dagger, I bring the sharp tip to my finger.
“How do you kill a Pirate?” I ask, my eyes capturing my father’s. He glares at me with an amused smirk, daring me.
“You can’t,” he replies, prowling toward me like a lion. “Because you’re a spineless little shit who belongs to me.”
Sweat trickles down my back and anxiety fills me. There’s only one shot at this. One chance because it’s him or me. And I fuckin’ choose me.
“Wrong answer,” I say, whipping my hand over my head lightning-quick, before hurling it forward with power and precision. The dagger twirls through the air, whistling as it spins. His eyes widen, and the scream dies on his lips as my aim hits true with a satisfying thunk.
“The best way to kill Pirate is to bury his treasure… right between his eyes,” I say with vindication. Pirate sways on his feet for just a split second before he crumples to the ground. His last breath escapes. And just like that, one quick moment, and his life ends—giving me a second chance at mine.
The room stands in shocked silence. And the only thing that can be heard is Trinity’s hushed cries. I need to go to her, to lift her from the floor, but this has to be finished first.
Making my way to his corpse, I reach down and pull the dagger from his skull. It doesn’t want to come out, and I grunt at the effort, locking my arms and tugging until a wet squelch has it releasing with a disgusting suck.
Lifting it over my head, my arm arcs down and jams the gore-coated steel into the table.
“Pirate’s reign is over. This shit ends here,” I announce. Reaching behind me, I pull my cut off, sliding it down my arms. “The club is supposed to be a brotherhood. Not a competition. A group of men sworn to protect each other. And that’s not what we are anymore.”
Laying the leather vest out with disgust, bile climbs my throat at the blood-soaked skull patch staring up at me. Laughing. My fingers curl on the coarse material, tugging it until the seams give way.
“Pirate turned this patch into a fucking joke. And I can’t be proud of it anymore.” My eyes meet those of my brothers, some looking at me, then down to Trinity, still sobbing over Venom’s corpse. Some nod their heads in agreement, while others stare in disgust and anger.
“Let’s leave this shit, this patch, in our past. Let’s rise from the ashes of the Demon Breakers. We need to protect each other, stand by each other, make a fuck-ton of money, and enjoy all the pussy we want…as long as it wants to be here. These shit practices need to end.”
Shaka pounds the table in agreement, the sound is quickly repeated by Charming, Prick, and Hunter. My eyes widen in shock as Tomb follows suit, and more brothers fall in line until the pounding shakes the very earth around us. Power fills the room. Purpose.
Cuts are removed, and patches are torn off and tossed into the middle of the table. Not everyone… but many…most.
“From this day on we’re the Oathsworn MC,” I shout. “And anyone who doesn’t want to join us, get the fuck out.”
“What gives you the right?” a voice calls, and I look down the table to see who’s speaking. Hunter’s father, Bruiser, steps forward with an angry scowl on his face. Some of the older members slide behind him, backing him up. And I take in each one, realizing how out of my depth I am. I was planning on leaving, not becoming the new President. Dammit, nothing is ever easy.
“That dead body there gives me the right,” I snap pointing to Pirate’s corpse.
“I’m done with the shady shit. Solo runs, trafficking women. That shit’s just wrong. It’s not who we are. Think of all our brothers who have ended up dead or incarcerated under Pirate’s watch,” I explain, hoping he’ll see the light.
Bruiser crosses his arms across his chest. “Fuck this. I’m not taking a new name. Not starting fresh as a new club. And I’m not following some wet behind-the-ears pup.”
Several of Pirate’s most loyal members move to stand behind Bruiser, and I take them in. Faster than I thought possible, Wolf darts forward, slamming hard into Tomb. And just like that fights break out.
The sounds of knuckles hitting flesh, and loud grunts reach my ears, and I watch as men who were friends just moments earlier go after each other like a pack of wild animals.
Someone presses my gun into my hand, and I look up gratefully at Shaka who continues around the room, providing weapons to the men we can trust.
