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I raid the stock cupboard at the warehouse.

This is where I carry out the majority of work I do for the club, and I have everything I need to get a fucker talkin’ or to make him wish he’d never fucked us over.

I doubt I’ll be bringing any of Quinnell’s men back here with me, so I’m gonna need as much as I can carry to ensure I make ’em suffer when I raid their shipyard myself.

I move the chainsaw out the way, wishing it was easier to carry. I like the idea of spraying those fuckers’ blood all over their yard as I saw through their limbs, but it ain’t practical. Going in alone, I’m gonna need a more stealth approach.

“What ya doin', Dev?” I hear a voice come from behind me, and when I turn around, Saint is standing by the door with his arms folded over his chest.

“Nothin’ excitin’.” I add some rope and a container of salt to the duffel bag I’m filling.

“Millie called.”

“ Millie? ” I spin back around, unable to hide my shock.

“She sounded real scared.”

“Well, there ain’t no reason for her to be scared.” I try acting as if it ain’t a big deal. But… shit . I didn’t mean to fuckin’ scare her. I just wanted to be sure she was taken care of before I got into this.

“You're thinkin’ of stormin’ that shipyard by yourself, ain’t ya?” Saint snatches the bag from my hand and looks inside it, shaking his head in disappointment. “Jesus, Dev, I had you pinned as being a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of ’em.”

“This ain’t me being stupid, Saint. It’s me being practical. A lot of my brothers got shit to live for now, ain’t no need for ’em to put their lives at risk.”

“That's not how the club works, and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m bending the rules on this one,” I tell him, snatching the bag back and shoulder-barging past him so I can get outta here.

Corey somehow made it into that shipyard without any of us noticing him from the outside. I wanna see if I can find out how he did it while it’s still light. That element of surprise could sure as hell work to my advantage.

“And what about me?” Saint's voice echoes across the empty warehouse before I make it to the door.

“What about you?” I drop the bag from my shoulders and turn around, letting him see how impatient he’s making me.

“You know what. Don’t make me fuckin’ say it, Dev.” He charges at me, “You know that it’s never been just Corey who depended on you.” He points his finger in my face.

“You're acting like I ain’t ever coming back,” I laugh at him.

“Looks like a suicide mission to me. There's a reason Raze wants us to wait,” he reminds me.

“C’mon, Saint, you know I can handle myself, and you're a big boy too, you don’t need me.” I tap him on the shoulder.

“What about him?” The frustration in his voice matches his eyes.

“Sinner?” I laugh even harder. “Now you’re really clutchin’, Saint. I’m going in, I’m spilling blood, and I’ll be back at the clubhouse in time for Polly’s meatloaf.”

“But what if you ain’t?” He proves he ain’t giving up on this. “What do you think Sinner’s gonna do if anything happens to you? All that anger, all that aggression. You think he’s ever gonna let me see the light again?

Sinner’s dangerous, Dev, and you know as well as I do that you're the only person he’ll take any advice from.

You may have lost your brother, you may feel as if your whole purpose for being on this Earth ain’t here no more, but you're wrong. I need you, and that crazed son-of-a-bitch who lives inside my head needs you, too.” He taps that finger hard at his temple as his jaw tenses.

“I can’t take the guilt of another person dyin’ because of me.” I shake my head and try not to lose control of my emotions. “If we raid that shipyard together, there's a chance we won’t all come back.”

“Every man who attacks that shipyard tomorrow does it freely. Raze ain’t got no gun to their heads. We all make our own choices, Dev, and that's what Corey did, too. He made a choice. Yeah, it was a wrong one, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“But if I’d–”

“If you’d done what?” he interrupts me. “Let him prospect? Welcomed him into the club, and put a gun in his fuckin’ hand?

Do you honestly think things would have turned out differently?

We risk our lives every fuckin’ day, Dev, and not just for the club, for each other.

We’re all here because we need the same thing.

We thrive on the violence. We need the fuckin’ mayhem. ”

“That's not true, you don’t,” I point out. Saint is different from the rest of us; he doesn’t need to cause pain, he suffers enough of his own, being trapped in a shared body.

“But Sinner does, and somethin's gotta keep him at bay,” he tells me sadly. “Don’t do this alone, Dev.” He steps closer and takes the bag outta my hands.

“Ride into that shipyard tomorrow alongside your brothers. Do what we live to do, and we can toast to tearing up all those motherfuckers when we all get back to the clubhouse.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish Sinner was here.” I roll my eyes.

“Why?” Saint looks offended.

“Because, right now, he’d be sharpening that fuckin’ chainsaw.” I look over Saint's shoulder toward the stock cupboard, and he laughs. “Come on, let's head back to the club. You can tell me why the fuck you’ve given a bag full of cash to your brother’s ex-girlfriend, over a beer.”