by Jayne Blue
I forced even breaths past my lips. He wanted to get a rise out of me just like I was trying to do with him. The difference was, he believed every word he said. As he took a step toward me, I couldn’t stop myself from flinching again. I had to keep my shit together. For me, for Jase, for Colt . . . please, God, let him be alive. For an instant, as Roy leered at me, it all came back. He’d started by grabbing my hair that night, forcing me to the ground at his feet. When I wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he’d started to kick.
I remembered the sounds more than the pain. At that moment, I wasn’t at The Shires. No one was here but Roy and me. No one was coming to help me. There was no Colt. No Jase. Just me and Roy and pain. Blinding pain and the taste of blood in my mouth.
No. Not now. That’s not you. This isn’t then. You’re alive. You’re whole.
I blinked hard, and the flashback vanished like billowing smoke.
I was here. This was now. And I’d never be anyone’s victim again. No matter what he did to Colt or Jase or even me, this was going to end on my terms, not Roy’s. Not ever Roy’s again.
Something changed in him. He straightened, dropping the swagger. I realized it later, or maybe it was right then. It wasn’t that there was a change in Roy, it was that he saw the change in me. I wasn’t afraid. I knew I should be. But I wasn’t. Somehow, that stunned Roy more than anything I could have said.
But Jase could see none of that. All he could see was Roy taking a step back. From the periphery, I saw Jase move. He went for Tommy fueled only by adrenalin and the desire to protect me from what he must have seen in Roy. I was right. He wasn’t as hurt as he’d pretended to be. Tommy reached for the gun at his back.
He was going to kill Jase right in front of me. I saw the stone-cold look in Tommy’s eyes an instant before he would have done it. Jase would be no match for him. Not now. Even as Jase reached for Tommy, his face went from gray to white. Roy turned, hearing the scuffle behind him. I reacted. I dove for the bar and grabbed Jase’s gun. His service weapon. Later, I’d realize how lucky that was. It had no safety and even a split second would have made all the difference.
I turned and pointed it at Roy. I think I would have shot him. At that moment, I think maybe I had it in me. But it was Tommy who moved first. He didn’t see me. He focused on Jase. He drew his gun from his holster and took a step back, pointing it straight at Jase’s head.
I fired. Just the once.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Colt
I spilled out of Brax’s truck again. The shot rang through the night air and for an instant, I thought I felt it in my own chest. The longest distance of my life was between Brax’s truck and the front door of The Shires.
Kellan was at my side as we burst through. I saw only Catman. He turned toward the source of the sound.
Amy held her arms out, pointing a gun not at Catman, but at Tommy. He crumpled to the ground next to the pool table. I don’t know that she ever saw us come in. She was like a statue, keeping her aim fixed on Tommy. She didn’t see Roy move toward her.
I did. I didn’t have my Glock. They’d taken it from me before they threw me in that shallow hole to die. If I’d had it, Catman would have died then and there. But I had my body and my fists, and I launched at Catman, driving him down to the floor. My fingers closed around the butt of his weapon. I would have drawn it on him if Kellan and Tate hadn’t gotten to me. They pulled me off Catman and held him down, smashing his face against the filthy floor.
Brax got a hold of me and held me back. He knew I would have kept going with just my bare wrecked hands. I had murder in my heart that day, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. But later, I’d know they were right. There was another way this had to end.
“It’s over,” he said again and again. “She’s okay. It’s okay. He’s done, Colt. He’s done.”
It was Amy who finally reached me through the blood-red haze. She stepped in between Brax and me, bringing her hands up to my cheeks and drawing my face away from Catman back to hers.
“Colt,” she said through her tears. “Look at me. Please look at me.”
I did.
She fixed those gorgeous, pale blue eyes on mine and held me. She was safe. She was whole. My little Mouse had helped me bring down the Catman. Fire ripped through my shoulder . . . through my whole battered body but none of it mattered. None if it would ever matter again. Not as long as I held Amy in my arms and never let her go.
***
“You sure we don’t call an ambulance first?”
Kellan had Jase up on his feet. He looked like hell but was moving around more or less on his own steam. He’d asked simple questions.
“We have no time,” I said; the strain of talking was making my words clipped. “It has to be airtight. No doubts this time.”
Jase thought I was crazy from blood loss or something when I laid out my plan. But he knew I was right. Catman could find a way to wriggle out of this one as long as he drew breath. Tommy was hurt, unconscious. But he wasn’t dead either. He owned the cops. He owned the justice system. We couldn’t make any mistakes from here on out.
I was cold and efficient as I discussed what to do. Jase knew the evidence we needed. I talked him through it. He made a suggestion here and there, but the basic plan I laid out stayed the same. Ricky wouldn’t talk. He was damn near catatonic from everything that had happened. But he could be trusted. I knew it.
“Wipe it clean,” I told Ricky. “Close for the day and say there’s a gas leak or something. I don’t care.” Ricky nodded.
Tommy shot Jase. Jase shot Tommy. That was easy enough to stage. I took the magazine out of Jase’s gun, replaced it with one from Kellan’s. We took him to the alley and Jase fired a shot into the trash can out back while Joker and E.J. revved their engines in the alley to muffle the sound. If they tested Jase’s hands, he could prove he’d fired tonight. Tommy’s bullet in his shoulder was evidence enough of why he had to. Jase swapped his own magazine back in so the bullet count would square. Sure, Catman and Tommy would try and tell their story but when we finished, no one would believe them.
I kissed Amy goodbye, promising to meet her back at her place later in the day. She was shaken but surprisingly together for all she’d been through. There was a change in her that I knew we needed to talk about. She’d had the strength of a lion the day I met her. But somehow, her power had grown.
“Come back to me,” she said. She cradled my swollen face with her delicate hands. Maybe not so delicate. I brought her fingers to my lips and kissed them.
“Swear to God,” I said. “Just go home and wait for me.” She nodded and gave me a smile that damn near melted me. The sooner we finished our business, the sooner I could get back to her, so there was no time to waste.
Brax, Joker, and E.J. went with Jase and Tommy to the hospital. I made one last stop at Denby’s field with Mac, Tate . . . and Catman.
I stood beside as Mac and Tate forced Catman to his knees and closed his hand around Brax’s gun next to the freshly turned earth of Lonnie and Sully’s grave.
I pointed to the east as a thin pink band layered the horizon. I gave Brax a nod. Then he gave a nod to Tate. While Catman struggled, they forced off a shot with his fingers around the trigger. Then they did it a second time. One bullet for each of the ones in Lonny and Sully’s foreheads.
“That ought to do it,” I said. Catman struggled and spat while Tate and Mac held him down by the shoulders. I stepped in front of him and leaned down, so we were eye to eye. He looked up at me, his nostrils flaring and chest heaving from the effort of trying to shake off Tate and Mac.
“You’re going away for double homicide.”
“Never gonna happen,” he said.
I smiled. “Yeah. It really is, Catman. It really is. Shoulda took ’em over the state line into Monroe County. Michigan doesn’t have a death penalty. Tough break, man. You’re slipping.”
“You think I can’t still get to you?” he laughed and for a second, I t
hink he believed that.
“Yeah. I think you can’t. See, the only allies you had are about four feet underground behind you. And Tommy’s going to go away for attempted murder of a police officer. We don’t shoot cops, remember? All bets are off when you do.”
I rose slowly and took the burner phone I had Kellan pick up for me. I hit Sly’s number and put it on speaker so Catman could hear it. Sly answered on the first ring.
“You there with Dex?” I said.
“We’re right here,” Sly answered. “What’s the word?”
“Catman’s out. Stole from the club. He killed two members when they found out. Tommy’s done too. They were in on everything together.”
“I understand,” Sly said, his voice cold as stone.
“Is he with you now?” Dex asked.
I held the phone out. “Green Bluff Prez and Veep want you to say hi.”
“Fuck you,” Catman said.
“Good,” Sly answered. “You hear me, Roy? You’re done. Word goes out to the charters tonight. No protection in or outside. Your patch is burned.”
For the first time tonight, I saw real fear in Catman’s eyes. When the other charters heard, he’d be dead to them as well. He’d do hard time with no protection. If it were me, I’d rather die. Catman wasn’t going to be so lucky.
I said my goodbyes to Sly and Dex, promising to fill them in on how everything shook out over the next few days. Then I turned back to Roy and knelt before him again.
“You can’t do this.” He struggled against Tate and Mac. “You can’t fucking do this to me.”
I grabbed his face and tilted his head, so he had no choice but to look into my eyes. I pulled the small knife from my pocket and sliced off the president patch from his cut. Mac stood behind him and pulled the leather vest off his shoulders. I took the knife and sliced straight down the center of his shirt, letting it fall open, the remnants hanging loose of his shoulders.
His howling wolf tattoo covered the whole surface of his back. This was going to hurt like a bitch. “I’m betting you wish you’d just gotten one on your arm.”
Catman struggled but Tate and Mac held him steady. I plunged my blade into his back, swiping down once. Then I started over from the top, criss-crossing the red line through his flesh I’d just made. When I finished, I’d carved an “X” through the center of his tattoo. It was a clean cut, but would scar deep. If Sly and Dex’s word wasn’t enough, anyone on the inside who saw it would know Catman was dead to us.
I suppose I could have respected him for bearing all of this without so much as a flinch or hiss of pain. But there was one last thing I had to do. I folded the knife, slid it back into my pocket and stood in front of Catman again. His nostrils flared wide as he drew hard breaths and tried not to wince against the searing pain in his back. The second his eyes flicked back to mine, I drew back my fist and hit him straight on. Pain shot up my injured arm, but it was worth every throb of it. Catman’s face exploded in red, and I was pretty sure I broke his damn nose.
“Your back is for the club and Lincolnshire, that one’s for Amy,” I said as I rose to my feet.
“You sure this is how to play this?” Tate asked. “One more bullet might be a lot simpler.”
I smiled. “I made all of you a promise that things were going to start changing around Lincolnshire as soon as the sun came up. That starts now.”
“Now take him back to the club. Jase called in a squad car to meet you there. Keep your statements short and sweet. Just like we rehearsed.” I slapped Catman’s patch into Tate’s hand, and he slid it into his breast pocket.
Then I turned back toward the eastern horizon just as the sun began to rise.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was late, damn near midnight when we made it back to the clubhouse. I called Amy to let her know I was okay and not to wait up. Kellan called a meeting after they took Tommy and Catman away. It was early yet, but Jase said the prosecutor’s office felt the case was open and shut. It was going to take me some time to trust how quickly the legal shit fell together. Jase had the sense that there were a lot of people just waiting for the day when Catman finally slipped up or hard evidence came to light that couldn’t be ignored. Two dead bodies and a cop with bullet holes was pretty fucking hard. Tommy and Catman were going away for a long time. And a lethal injection wasn’t out of the question if they survived inside long enough to get there.
We’d cut out the cancer, but this club lost almost a third of its membership in the space of a few hours. It was a crisis, any way you looked at it. Kellan had everyone assembled around the table. No one sat at the head or the right-hand side. My heart sank a little. It would take a long time for this club to recover from this, if it ever could.
I sat across from Kellan. I was bone tired, and the adrenalin had worn off. My ribs hurt like fuck, my face and shoulder throbbed. “Any chance we can table this until after I’ve had a good night’s sleep in a warm bed? It’s been kind of a rough day.”
Kellan didn’t smile. None of them did. They all looked at me grim-faced and I suppose I couldn’t blame them. Yeah, I’d helped them bring down Catman, but I’d also turned their club and this town upside down ever since I stepped foot in it. I could see it written all over each of them. They’d want to close ranks and lick their wounds in peace. Hell, it’s what I’d want. So back to Green Bluff? Or would it be a nomad’s life for me? I didn’t much care, as long as I got to live part of it with Amy; that’s all that mattered.
“It’s been a hard day. A hard couple of months,” Brax started. That surprised me. I thought sure Kellan would run this show from here on out. Then it dawned on me why he wouldn’t. They were about to vote him in as president. I couldn’t help the slow smile that crept across my face even though it hurt like hell to do it.
Good on you, Kel, I thought. No one deserved it more.
“We could wait,” Brax said. “But a few days or a few months won’t make a damn bit of difference in what has to be done. We talked. We don’t want another sun to set on this club without knowing where we’re going next. I don’t think anyone at this table could live like that.”
There were nods and gruff assents. Tate and Mac slapped their palms against the table.
“We need new leadership. We’ve lost the top three spots at this table. It needed to happen, and we all know why. We all know who’s responsible. You’ve all reached out to me or Kellan and asked for this. You want to vote now. Does everyone agree?”
More nods and thumped fists against the table. Only I remained still. Brax looked at me. Kellan looked wearier than I did. His face held no emotion. I put my palms up. “I’m a guest at this table.”
Kellan shook his head. “You’re no guest, Colt. This is your town as much as the rest of ours. We need your vote.”
I nodded in surrender. Brax was on his feet. For as important a vote as this was, we did shit simple in the Great Wolves M.C. Brax tossed around pens and tore off scraps of paper. We would write one name and one name only. Brax slammed a pewter beer stein in the center of the table. After each vote was cast, we’d drop it in the stein. Brax would count ’em up.
It had to be unanimous, or this club wasn’t getting a new president. Stalemate and we’d vote two more times but only for the top two vote getters and they had to abstain. A third stalemate and we’d have to call in another charter to settle it. In the history of the club, no charter survived if they couldn’t decide on their own president. In every way that mattered, that damn stein held the fate of the Lincolnshire charter inside of it.
For me, the choice was clear. I prayed the rest of these guys did the right thing as well. I wrote down Kellan’s name, folded it, and tossed it into the stein. I was the first one to cast. Everyone else took a damn long time to make up their minds.
Finally, after about twenty minutes of hand-wringing, grunting, and furrowed brows, the rest of them put their folded ballots into the stein. Joker ended up being the last one to cast his. He wouldn’t me
et my eyes for some reason when he did it. I didn’t like it.
Brax reached over and shook the stein. He set it down. “Everyone ready for me to read them?”
“For shit’s sake, yes!” I couldn’t help it. My damn head was starting to pound off my neck. “I’m pretty sure I probably need a fucking CAT scan. Can we get on with it?”
Tate and Kellan broke first, coughing into their hands to stifle their laughter. Brax shot them a withering stare. He took his job seriously.
Brax started to pull out the ballots; he read them silently, his blond brow furrowing. He piled them one after the other until he’d counted all eight. God, he enjoyed drawing out the drama.
“It’s down to two,” he said, his tone grim.
“Read ’em Brax,” Tate said.
Brax nodded. His face betrayed nothing. He took a stack of ballots and placed them to one side. He took a single strip of paper and placed it on the other.
“Seven to one,” he said. I reared my head back. Who hadn’t voted for Kellan? Had to be just Kellan himself. Good. This would be an easy second ballot since he’d have to abstain.
“Seven for Colt Reddick, one vote for Kellan Carter.”
Kellan smiled. My heart dropped. Everyone moved fast after that, grabbing new paper from Brax. They didn’t even wait for him to call the next vote. My heart thundered in my ears. I couldn’t believe what was happening right in front of me.
Kellan smiled. All around the table, those grim stares turned to warm regard as man after man wrote down a name and put their ballot back in the stein. E.J. sat next to me. He was already slapping me on the back. It’s a good thing. I was having trouble remembering to breathe.
I hadn’t expected this. Didn’t know if I was ready for it. But none of it mattered. These men were about to put their trust in me. Me. The meaning of it was loud and clear. They were ready for something different. Something better. The gym, the Wolf Den, or whatever we could bring about together for this town. Our town.
