Page 56 of Property of Rattler

“You like, like him, yeah?” I notice her quick correction, which only makes more tears flow.

“I think… I think I could have loved him.”

“Is she talking about Rat?” Bronwyn sounds shocked.

Hurriedly, Trixie shushes her.

Recovering herself, Bronwyn takes on a professional mode again. “Let's get you into the bathroom so you can relieve yourself and brush your teeth. Then, you can get into bed. Ames, I’m going to give you a sedative to help you sleep. Is that okay?”

Oblivion sounds just what I need. I want to stop thinking, want to stop reliving Flynn’s last moments, want to get the sound of gunfire and explosions out of my head.

She helps me up and into the bathroom, then, when I emerge, Trixie’s pulled back the sheet, and the bed looks inviting.

After I lie down, Bronwyn approaches with a syringe. Her lips quirk. “Think you’ve earned the good stuff tonight.”

It’s not like me to trust a stranger, but I lay back and let her do her worst, cleaning the skin on my upper arm, and then she’s so gentle with that needle, I barely feel a scratch.

I’m tired, exhausted, emotionally wrung out. And, with the aid of whatever she’s given me, I start to drift.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BULLSEYE

Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown.The saying circles through my mind as I watch the brothers enter church one by one, each wearing expressions that verge between fury and dismay, which I fully understand. Apart from Heathen, who, having lost his life as a prospect, we’d patched in before putting him in his grave, we haven’t lost a brother in a very long time. The loss of one of his men is the last situation any president wants to find himself in. Everybody will be looking to me for answers, of which I have none. Imperceptibly straightening my back, I draw on all the strength, patience, and hopefully wisdom that I’ve earned during my fifty-five years on this earth.

When everyone’s seated, I bang the gavel to put a halt to the conversations and speculations buzzing around. As I wait for the silence to fall, my eyes land on the empty chair.Fuck, Rattler, you should be there. Much as there’s been times I wished you weren’t, you don’t deserve whatever happened to you today.

At last, the voices fade, and all eyes come to me. I clear my throat. “As you already know, Rattler’s missing.” The few whohadn’t been at the compound when the summons to ride had gone out will have been updated by now. They’ll know how, taking all available brothers, I’d ridden hell to leather to get to the cabin, but we’d arrived too late. By the time we’d gotten there, the fighting was over. And Rattler was gone.

“Presumed dead,” Tempest adds, his brow lined with deep furrows and his lips tight.

As a roar goes around the table, Saint raises his hand and reminds us all, “He was heavily outnumbered but managed to take six of them out.” He pauses as hands slap the table in recognition of our brother’s efforts. “Stone left the bodies of his men lying around, but he took Rattler.” He raises his shoulders, then lowers them, and, with a pointed look toward Tempest, states, “Whether dead or alive, or for what we don’t know.”

“To fuck with us?” Woody asks, then he growls. “Because that’s what he’s fuckin’ doing. He must know it’s killing us not to have confirmation he died.”

“From the woman’s description of what happened, they’d definitely taken him down. She would have seen if he’d escaped from his position,” I tell them.

“We signed his death warrant when we forced him to marry her.” Words’ face is taut.

“Didn’t do much forcing, he agreed. One million dollars is one fuck of an incentive,” Paint observes.

“It isn’t if you’re not alive to spend it,” Stalker responds. Like the rest of us, he seems stunned that one of our own is gone.

I nod my head in agreement. “I want to know how Stone discovered the location of that cabin.” My eyes land on Genie.

“Pippa and I are looking into it,” he answers. Then grimaces. “The club owns the property, but the ownership is tied up in a trail of bogus companies. It would take a miracle to find it.”

“I didn’t even realise it was ours,” Winchester remarks. “I thought we were renting.” His words are echoed around.

“I knew.” Stalker raises his hand. “I did the finances for the acquisition.”

Sometimes, or maybe make that often, the unpleasant duties stay here in the top seat. “Hands up. Who else knew we were the owners?”

Genie raises his hand, Stalker too, along with Saint, Freak and Tempest. All other hands stay down. I close my eyes for a moment before observing, “So that limits where the exposure could have come from.”

“Fuck, you’re not suggesting it’s one of us who sold him out?” Woody snarls, hitting his fist on the table.

I get my rebuttal in fast. “No, I’m not saying any of us were deliberately loose-mouthed. But we’re trying to narrow it down as to how the fuck Stone found out.”