Page 80 of Enemy

His warm blood drips from my chin, but it’s fine. Even the smell of it doesn’t bother me.

“Who’s squealing now?” I whisper, staring into his dead eyes when the door opens, pushing me back into reality.

“What was that racket—” Bracer asks, but when he sees me, his voice dies.

Chapter 31

Clyde

“Whathaveyoudone?”

Bracer’s voice echoes through my skull, tearing holes in the cellophane I’ve surrounded myself with. I glance at the body slumped at my feet, and while I’ve just stabbed him again, releasing more blood, Kalash is staring back with no life in his eyes.

Dead.

Gone.

He can no longer feel anything, and that fact makes anguish grow in my chest, pulsing until it can no longer be contained.

I can’t breathe.

The lock clicks, and Bracer takes two steps closer, rubbing his bare skull as he takes in the carnage. “Why? What the fuck?”

“I…” I get up, unable to gather my thoughts out of the mush I have for brains. “We got into a fight…”

“I can fucking see that,” Bracer cuts in and hovers his hand in front of him. “Throw away that knife!”

I drop it a few paces away and he rubs his face. “Not here! Go drop it in a sewer or some shit. Listen to me, Clyde. Do you want this to go away? Or do you want to cause more problems than you already have?”

I clear my throat and go pick up the knife. “How the fuck do I makethisgo away?” I ask as clarity about what I just did sinks in. Kalash is the VP of the Bend chapter. How the fuck do we sweep this under the rug?

Bracer might be our accountant, but he’s as tough as they come, and doesn’t seem affected by the blood. He grabs my shoulder and looks into my eyes. “I can sort this out, get rid of the body fast, but from now on, your ass is mine. I tell you to let go of the fucking vendetta against the Vultures, you do that, and talk your uncle into it too. Understood? Or are we going to go announce to a bunch of drunk bikers that,oops,you accidentally stabbed their buddy in the neck thirty times?”

I hate that he’s making demands of me, but in all honesty? I’ve got no love or loyalty left for Roy. He might have been my brother, but he can rot alongside Kalash for all I care. This isn’t a bad development for me at all. Especially that I have zero desire for war with the Vultures, and in fact want one of them back at my side.

I nod at Bracer. “Are you sure you’re fine here… on your own?”

He exhales and stares at me from under his thick brows, hunched forward as he takes in details of the mess I’ve made. “Just go. Clean up in the showers. We’ll both say we saw Dodger going in here with Kalash. Trust me.”

I’m uncertain about shoving someone else under the bus, but Dodger always sucks up to my uncle and has provoked conflict with the Vultures several times. He might be a brother, but do I have any real love for him? I definitely value my own life more.

The gym has a brand-new shower too, so it’s quick and easy. I stuff my blood-splashed clothes in a trash bag and change into a clean T-shirt with our club logo that I found lying round. With my gun tucked into the back of my pants, I check myself in the mirror, in case there’s something I’ve missed. It’s a good thing I’ve been sleeping at the clubhouse lately, too worried that Road might come to my home—

Road.

My mind’s been so chaotic I haven’t have time to think, but as I step out into a corridor where I hear the sounds of the party again, I fish out my secret phone so fast I almost drop it. Bracer told me to go mingle with others and be seen, but it can wait five minutes.

As soon as I turn the phone on, a slew of messages pings like mad, but I don’t waste time reading them. I need to tell him how I feel. I’d call him, but at this time he might be with his club, so I just send a message.

[Iknow why you did it, and I understand. He deserved it.] Because before anything else, I want Road to know this. [I miss you so much.]

Even writing it makes me breathless and my eyes itch at the intensity of my emotions. I want to hold his strong, warm body against me, press my face to the back of his head and feel safe.

People shout to each other, others dance, and laugh, but I lean against the wall in the passage, unwilling to join them. I hold the phone to the middle of my chest, hoping it can somehow breach skin and bone, until it’s embedded right next to my heart.

Just as that thought passes my mind, the device buzzes, and I almost drop it in the effort to unlock the screen too fast.

It’s Road. Must be, since only he has this number.