Page 21

TWENTY-ONE

BOZO

The ride to Leopardstown is tense, the roar of our bikes doing little to drown out the thoughts racing through my head. Images of Gráinne's bruised face, the bandage covering her stab wound, flash before my eyes. Each one fuels the rage burning inside me.

We pull up a block away from the bar, killing our engines. Pyro turns to face us, his expression grim.

"Alright, listen up," he says, his voice low. "We go in quiet. We're not here to start a war. We find this fucker, we get him out, and we make him talk. Understood?"

We all nod, the seriousness of the situation not lost on any of us. This isn't just about revenge. It's about protecting Gráinne and potentially uncovering a threat that could affect all of us.

"Bozo," Pyro continues, fixing me with a hard stare. "I know you're angry. We all are. But we need him alive and talking. Control yourself."

I clench my jaw but nod. As much as I want to tear this bastard apart with my bare hands, I know Pyro's right. We need information more than we need vengeance. At least for now.

We make our way to the bar, trying to look as inconspicuous as a group of bikers can. As we enter, the noise of the crowded pub hits us. It's a typical Friday night, the place packed with people unwinding after a long week.

My eyes scan the room, searching for the face I've committed to memory. The face of one of the men who were at the card game. It doesn't take long to spot him. He's sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, seemingly without a care in the world. Unfortunately, it’s not the asshole who hurt Grá.

As we get closer, the man seems to sense something's off. He looks up from his drink, his eyes widening as he spots us. For a moment, he looks like he's considering making a run for it. But then his eyes land on me, and I see recognition flash across his face.

"Remember me, asshole?" I growl as I reach him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

He tries to pull away, but I've got him in an iron grip. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stammers, his eyes darting around frantically.

"Wrong answer," I snarl, pulling him closer. "Your brother hurt someone I care about. And now you're going to tell me everything you know."

The man's eyes widen in fear as he realizes the gravity of his situation. "Please," he whimpers. "We’re just following orders. He didn’t know that she was yours."

His pathetic plea only fuels my rage. I tighten my grip on his shirt, my knuckles turning white. "Orders from who?" I demand, my voice low and dangerous. "Who's Dragomir?"

At the mention of Dragomir's name, the man's face pales even further. "How do you know about Dragomir?" he whispers, his voice trembling.

Before I can respond, Pyro steps in. "Let's take this somewhere more private," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nod, roughly pulling the man off his barstool. We make our way toward the back exit, my brothers forming a tight circle around us to prevent any escape attempts. We push through the door into the alley behind the bar.

"Talk," I growl, slamming the man against the brick wall. "Who's Dragomir and what does he want with Gráinne?"

The man's eyes dart between us, clearly weighing his options. After a moment, he seems to deflate, realizing he has no way out. "Dragomir Popescu," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's the head of The Revenant. We were just supposed to tie up loose ends. The girl... she wasn't supposed to be there. She heard things she shouldn't have."

"And that gives your brother the right to beat her? To stab her?" I snarl, my fist connecting with his jaw before I can stop myself.

Pyro puts a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back slightly. "Easy, Bozo," he warns. "We need him talking."

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "What's The Revenant planning?" I ask, my voice cold and hard.

The man swallows hard, his eyes darting around nervously. "They're expanding," he says finally. "Moving into new territories. Dublin is just the beginning. Dragomir has big plans."

"What kind of plans?" Wrath asks, stepping forward.

The man shakes his head. "I don't know the details. I'm not in the know. I’m not one of the leaders. But I know it's big. Bigger than anything we've done before."

I exchange a glance with Pyro. This is worse than we thought. If The Revenant is planning a major expansion, it could mean war. And Gráinne is caught right in the middle of it.

"Where can we find Dragomir?" I demand, turning back to the man.

He lets out a bitter laugh. "You can't be serious. No one finds Dragomir unless he wants to be found. He's like a ghost."

I slam him against the wall again, my patience wearing thin. "Wrong answer. Where. Is. He?"

The man winces, fear flashing in his eyes. "I swear, I don't know. He moves around and never stays in one place for long.”

I step back, my fists clenched at my sides. Every fiber of my being wants to beat this man to a pulp, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain Gráinne felt. But I know we need to be smart about this.

"Now, where’s your brother, étienne?" Pyro asks, his voice cold. "That’s someone you’ll know the location of."

He shakes his head, his eyes wide and full of fear. “I do not know,” he lies.

Pyro grins wickedly, stepping forward and pulling out his gun. He cocks it, pointing it at the fucker’s head. “You have one chance. You tell me where étienne is, or I pull this trigger.”

The man's eyes widen in terror as he stares down the barrel of Pyro's gun. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his breath comes in short, panicked gasps. But he doesn’t answer Pyro. He stares ahead, his breathing choppy and his eyes wide.

“So be it,” Pyro growls and pulls the trigger.

The gun clicks, empty. The man flinches violently, a whimper escaping his lips. Pyro's face twists into a cruel smile.

"That was your free pass," he says, his voice dangerously low. "Next time, it won't be empty. Now, where's étienne?"

Once again, he doesn’t answer the question, but he does speak. “Would you give up your brother?” he asks, his voice trembling. “No,” he answers himself. “Neither would I. So do it. End me. I do not care. You’ll never find étienne or Dragomir.” The stupid grin on his face is enough to piss me off. “Don’t worry, that whore of a doctor will get what’s coming to her. No matter what you do, you won’t be able to keep her safe. We’ll find her, and when we do, they’re going to enjoy raping and killing her.”

The gun sounds off once again. This time, Pyro didn’t give him a warning. The bullet sinks between his eyes. He’s dead before he even realizes the bullet was fired.

The man's body crumples to the ground, a small trickle of blood running down his forehead. The alley falls silent, the echo of the gunshot fading away.

I stare at the corpse, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through me. Part of me is glad the bastard is dead, but another part knows this complicates things.

"Fuck, Pyro," Wrath hisses, glancing around nervously. "What happened to keeping him alive?"

Pyro's face is a mask of cold fury as he lowers his gun. "He crossed a line," he says simply, his voice devoid of emotion. "No one threatens one of ours like that and lives."

My anger is palpable. I want to find that motherfucking étienne. He won’t get a chance to hurt Gráinne. I’ll kill that motherfucker before he even gets the chance. I’m going to hunt him the fuck down.

But killing this bastard means we've lost our only lead.

"What now?" I ask, looking at Pyro.

He holsters his gun, his expression grim. "Now we clean this up and regroup. We might not have gotten everything we wanted, but we know more than we did before."

"We need to find étienne. It might be our only chance to get to Dragomir," I say, my anger coursing through me. Fucker died to protect that bastard étienne.

Pyro nods, his face grim. "Agreed. But we need to be smart about this. We need more intel on the Revenant. We need to know where the fuck they’re holed up."

"We'll need to find the location, then figure out our approach and scout it before we go in," Wrath says. “The last thing we need to be doing is going into a trap. But first, we need to find étienne.”

I nod, my mind already racing with possibilities. "And we need to keep the women safe. If they find out she's with us..."

"We'll increase security at the clubhouse," Pyro assures me. "No one gets in or out without us knowing."

As we make our way back to our bikes, I feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. Anger at what's been done to Gráinne, fear for her safety, and a grim determination to end this threat once and for all.

"You okay, brother?" Wrath asks as we mount our bikes.

I take a deep breath, my hands gripping the handlebars tightly. "I will be," I say, "once we put an end to this and Gráinne is safe."

Right now, I just want to get back to the clubhouse and make sure that my woman is okay. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s alive and breathing.

As we roar back toward the clubhouse, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions and plans. The need to see Gráinne, to hold her and make sure she's safe, is overwhelming. But beneath that is a simmering rage, a burning desire for vengeance against étienne and Dragomir.

The clubhouse comes into view, and I feel a relief that we're back, that I'll see Gráinne.

We park our bikes, and before I’m able to enter the clubhouse, Wrath and Pyro stop me. I raise a brow and Pyro grins manically. “You told her you love her, didn’t you?”

I stare at him, wondering what the fuck this has to do with anything and how the fuck he knew that. But I don’t answer him, the nosey fucker.

“Christ,” Wrath laughs. “You did? Christ, Bozo, what the fuck were you thinking? You have kept her at arm’s length for years, then she gets hurt and you’re all in?”

“Have you seen her?” I snarl. “Seen the bruises on her body? I tried to keep her from this shit, but she’s so fucking deep now that I can’t think straight. She’s all I have ever wanted.”

They both nod. “We see that. Trust me, brother,” Pyro says. “We get it. If anyone does, it’s us. But you have to realize that she doesn’t. She loves you too, but she’s not going to truly believe you love her all of a sudden.”

I run a hand through my hair, frustration and worry mixing in my gut. "What the fuck am I supposed to do then? I can't take it back. I don't want to take it back."

Pyro puts a hand on my shoulder, his expression softening slightly. "No one's saying you should take it back, brother. But you need to show her you mean it. Words are easy. Actions are what matter."

Wrath nods in agreement. "You've kept her at arm's length for years. She's probably wondering why now, why after she got hurt. She might even think you're just saying it out of guilt or pity."

Their words hit me like a punch to the gut. They're right, and I know it. Gráinne's no fool. She's probably questioning everything right now.

"Fuck," I mutter, leaning against my bike. "How do I fix this?"

"You don't fix it," Pyro says firmly. "You prove it. Every day, with everything you do. You show her that this isn't just because she got hurt, that it's not temporary. You show her that you're in this for the long haul."

I nod slowly, absorbing his words. "And in the meantime? While we're dealing with this Revenant shit?"

Wrath grins, clapping me on the back. "You keep her close, keep her safe, and you don't let her doubt for a second that you mean what you said."

With a deep breath, I straighten up. They're right. I've wasted enough time keeping Gráinne at a distance. Now it's time to show her—and everyone else—exactly what she means to me.

"Thanks, brothers," I say as I turn toward the door. It’s time to set Grá straight and show her just how fucking much she means to me.

I’m so fucking in love with her that I can’t think straight.