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He squirms beneath the barrel, and in the silence of his cowardice, I notice that the gunfire and explosions have stopped. Seconds later, Havoc and Mayhem appear in the doorway.
“Who’s this?” Mayhem says.
“Looks like the boss,” Havoc says. He gestures with his gun to a large painting on the wall. It’s garish, a sick swirl of colors depicting Vince sitting on a throne, with several busty women beside him. “And I’d bet there’s a safe behind that painting. Open it, boss man.”
“Fuck off, you psychopath,” Vince snaps.
“Don’t talk to me like that, you expendable piece of shit.”
“Havoc, Mayhem, calm the fuck down and let me handle this,” I say.
They don’t listen. I’m not surprised.
Havoc's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing across them. In one fluid motion, he raises his pistol and fires; the bullet grazes Vince's ear. The man yelps, clutching the side of his head as blood trickles between his fingers.
Something snaps within him; he reaches into his suit jacket, a gun appears in his hand and he raises it.
I don’t hesitate, and I pull the trigger and put a bullet into Vincent’s hand; Havoc, Mayhem, and Diesel don’t hesitate either — a series of bullets strike Vincent in the chest, the face, and the gut. He collapses into a bloody heap, along with my best chance to find out where Moretti’s men are hiding.
A hand claps me on the back. Another pulls me into a hug.
“You did good,” Mayhem says, holding me tight. “Real good.”
“We’ll talk to Rabid, get you patched in as soon as we can. Your friend can join us, too. We’ll vouch for him. Though he’ll have to be a prospect, though,” Havoc says.
I manage a smile, even though, on the inside, I’m as chaotic as a battlefield full of drunk Marines.
At least I’m in the MC. I may not know who or how many men Moretti has after me, but at least I’ll have backup when they launch their next inevitable attack. That counts for something, right?
“Sounds great,” I say.
“Oh great, I get to prospect all over again,” Diesel says. “I may not sound enthusiastic, but trust me, I am absolutely looking forward to joining your MC and enduring all the hazing and torment that comes along with the prospecting period.”
“Don’t worry, unlike some other clubs, we don’t do anything with the ass,” Havoc says, in a way that is completely unreassuring.
“But what if I ask nicely?” Diesel says.
“Consent matters. And so does saying ‘please,’” Mayhem says. His eyes go down to Vincent’s body, which is rapidly filling the floor with a pool of blood. “But we can talk about your asshole and what you want in it later. We should get back to the clubhouse before the rest of Vinny’s boys get back. We need to celebrate this victory and the MC’s two new members.”
In a disturbingly casual manner, we walk from the office and through the charnel house that used to be an underground casino. It’s only once we’re outside and free of the blood — well, all of it except the splatter staining my shirt, face, and hands — that everything that I’ve accomplished hits me. No, I may not know the names of the people after me, but I’ve bought brotherhood with blood. I’ve bought security and safety for the people I love, and my roots in Ironwood Falls are growing.
I smile.
It’s a good day.
We reach our bikes and I laugh.
“That’s the fucking attitude we like to see,” Havoc says. “You did really fucking well today, brother. We’ve made Ironwood Falls a better place, and I’m glad you realize that.”
I slip on my helmet and my leg over the bike. I am in the mood to celebrate. And to share the celebration with the people I love — Charlie and Emily. I haven’t seen either of them in hours, and after the chaos earlier, I need to fix that. I want to hug Charlie, kiss Emily, and tell them both how much I love them.
“I’ll be at the party later. There’s somewhere I need to go first.”
“To see Charlie and Emily? Mind if I tag along?” Diesel says. Then, in a lower voice, he adds, “I don’t want to be left alone with those two.”
I laugh. “You’re always welcome, brother. Let’s go see my lady and my son.”
Chapter Fifty
