Page 46

It’s been forty-two hours since we found out Frankie had escaped because we had a fucking rat infestation.

The only reason I’m able to stand on two feet was because Cypher showed me the footage from my house.

My family is alive.

It’s the only thought I’ve held on to for the last two days.

Manic apologized for the way he delivered the news about our fallen brothers, but I don’t hold it against him. He was in shock and couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

Gavel has tried to get me to go to sleep, warning me that I’m no good to them if I can’t take care of myself. When my eyes close, the nightmares come. The visions of things that haven’t happened, but could if I don’t get to them.

Instead of my men on the ground bleeding from wounds they won’t survive, it’s my kids.

It’s my Birdie.

So, I keep my eyes open.

I keep searching, keep fighting.

Waiting for each piece of information Cypher sends me.

Our house is a graveyard.

Pavement stained red.

Windows shattered.

Doors broken.

Betrayal has corrupted our sanctuary.

Each night, I park my bike at the gate and stare as I try to understand where it went wrong.

Where I failed.

But it all mocks me instead of giving me the answers I seek.

Coco had nothing for me. Her devastation at Monster’s betrayal was too real. Bambi had to finally give her something to knock her out.

I stare down at the headless body at my feet before spitting on him and tossing his head away.

Using my shoulder, I wipe away the blood coating my face and turn to Cyanide.

He watches me warily, not used to this quiet side of me.

There’s nothing left.

No smile.

No quip.

No fucking song.

There’s just emptiness that grows with each useless fucking lead we get.

“Tell Cypher to find me something else. This one had nothing.”

“Pope, you can’t ride through the city with blood all over you,” Gavel points out. “This isn’t our territory.”

I nod and turn to Joker. “Find me a place to clean up.”

“You need to sleep,” Gavel says.

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“Which you’ll be if you don’t fucking rest.” He places his hand at my nape to hold me in place. “I know what you’re going through, son, but they need you in top shape. They’re trusting you to come for them. But you can’t do that if you burn out first.”

My gritty eyes burn when I close them, knowing he’s right. “Fine,” I sigh. “Giblet?”

“Yeah, Prez?”

“Do you have something that will knock me the fuck out? Because I won’t be able to do this on my own.”

It’s not a weakness I would normally admit to.

Right now, I just can’t find it in me to give a fuck.

“I have something.”

“Good,” I say with a nod and turn back to Gavel. “I want you inside my room.” Then I glance at Cyanide. “I want you at my door. If anyone comes for us, fucking kill them.”

“You always have our backs, Pope. Let us have yours.”

Joker finds us a rundown motel not far from where we’re at. Pretty Boy and Basilisk stay behind to wait for our clean-up crew while the rest of us ride out.

No sooner do I pass the threshold to my room, there’s a sharp prick to my neck then Gavel and Giblet’s arms wrap around me.

“Sorry, Prez, but I knew we’d need to catch you off guard before you changed your mind.”

“Fuckers,” I mumble, my eyes growing heavy.

My body grows taut at the thought of what’s waiting for me when I fall into my slumber, but I’m unable to fight the effects of the drug.

Right before I fall under, I hear Gavel whisper, “Still breathing for you, kid.”

There’s still a grittiness to my eyes when I wake up hours later, but my mind and my body feel more alert.

“How are you feeling?” Gavel asks when I sit up and scrub my hands over my face.

“Better. Did Cypher come up with anything new?”

“Not yet. Nyla and Callix made him get some sleep, too. Chimera has been working while Cypher is down. I’m sure they’ll have something soon.

” He climbs to his feet, exhaustion and pain sitting heavy in his eyes.

“Let’s go grab something to eat until we hear some news.

There’s no sense in leaving here without a direction. ”

I climb to my feet and twist my back left, then right, sighing when it cracks.

That mattress fucking sucked.

“Let me grab a quick shower.” I peer down at my shirt and grimace. “Can you see if someone has a shirt I can borrow?”

There’s not much to be found, food-wise, in this fucking town, but the small diner has a decent enough selection to fill us up.

I’m tossing money down on the table when my phone rings.

Cypher’s name flashes across the screen, and adrenaline shoots through my veins.

“Talk to me,” I answer.

“Chimera found a contact about an hour from where you are. One of the primary clients Frankie sells to. Chimera picked up chatter that this client has a package of Frankie’s that he’s been holding onto, and Frankie’s ready to collect. Something about a family reunion.”

This is fucking it.

I don’t know what we’re going to find, but the fire in my gut tells me this is the lead we’ve been waiting for.

“Appreciate you, brother,” I tell him gruffly.

“They’re my family, too. I’ll keep digging just in case this turns out to be another fucking dead end. Sending you the location now.”

After ending the call with Cypher, I rush to my bike. The others pick up my urgency and hurry after me. I double check my weapon before I throw my leg over the seat.

My phone pings with the incoming message from Cypher. I study the location on the map and lock it into my memory before shoving it into my pocket.

I flick on the ignition and fire my bike up, twisting my hand to send my pipes roaring through the sky.

We fly by a church just getting out of service, and people stop and stare, their expressions judgmental and hateful.

They know we’re not supposed to be here, but they’re too terrified to say anything about it.

Instead, they’ll stay in their safe little spaces, in their rich ass fucking town with their big fancy houses and their expensive ass cars, and gossip about us when we’re gone.

They’ll call us thugs, say racist shit about my men whose skin is darker than theirs, and they’ll bitch about how we need to go back to where we came from.

All the while pretending they’re happy with their mundane lives.

The men will act as if they don’t leave their dutiful wives to go fuck their side pieces, and the wives will pretend to know nothing about it as long as their rich, insignificant lives don’t get interrupted.

They’ll go fuck their personal trainers, the pool boys, or the yard workers.

Then they’ll show up at Sunday service and pretend for a day that they’re a good person with a cross on a chain around their neck.

Those are the biggest hypocrites. The ones who will ignore the struggling moms as they count their pennies to feed children they were forced to have.

The ones who ignore the men and women who gave their service to a country that doesn’t give a shit about them.

The ones in those pews will be the first to snarl at the thought of dropping some loose change in a cup so someone can eat, or ignoring the injustices going on in the world to people who aren’t like them while tossing out slurs like fucking confetti.

They’ll protect the pedophiles or become them.

They’ll lay their hands on their spouses because their deity in the sky said they should honor and obey them.

Then they’ll cry with some fake apology and explain that if they would have just listened to them, they wouldn’t have had to hurt them.

People should just own who the fuck they are. If you’re a shitty person, accept the consequences of being one.

Their judgment of my family pisses me off, so I make sure to flip them off with a big smile as we ride by.

Fuck, people like them make me angry.

Who the hell are they to judge me and mine when they wake up in the morning and aren’t even happy with the person they see staring back at them?

The rest of the ride to our new location is focused as I let myself hope.

Hope that this will be the lead that takes me to my family.

If I let my mind travel to what the fuck they’re enduring, I’ll turn into a useless mess. They need me to be strong for them, so that’s what the fuck I’m going to do. Right now, my hope is my goddamn strength.

The house my phone leads us to is in the middle of nowhere, and it puts me on edge. What’s out here? Who is out here?

Holding my fist up then moving it to the right, I indicate we’re pulling off to the side of the road instead of traveling farther. We need to scope this place out so we know what we’re walking into.

“Butcher, you’ll come with me up to the house. The rest of you scope out the woods around here. Watch where you’re walking. Keep your eyes peeled for trouble. Weapons out,” I order.

Our steps are light against the leaves and gravel as Butcher and I make our way to the house. I spot a few cameras and use hand signals to warn Butcher. He lifts his gun with a suppressor attached and takes out each one that I point out.

If they’re watching their feed, they definitely know we’re here now.

We’re closing in on the porch when the first shot rings out.

“Fuck,” I spit out, jumping behind the tree next to me.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re trespassing on private property,” the male voice calls out.

There’s a loud grunt, and then Malice informs us it’s all clear.

He’s standing on the porch, holding his gun to the male’s temple. “Inside is all clear. He’s the only one here. There’s a padlocked door off of the kitchen, though, and something tells me we won’t like what’s behind it.”

“Do something with him while I go see what he’s got locked up down there.”

“She’s mine. He gave her to me,” the man cries.

My heart pounds rapidly inside my chest. “Who gave her to you? Frankie?”

The man freezes and stares at me with terrified eyes. “You’re here for him?”

“You don’t see the family resemblance?” I ask, playing along.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Why didn’t you just say that instead of sneaking onto my property?” he asks suspiciously.

“Frankie told us we needed to be careful.”

“That makes sense. Being careful is important, he says. Other people don’t like it when someone has pets.”

My hand itches to rip this man’s throat out, but I need all the information I can get. “Frankie said it’s time for her to come home. He’s ready for the family reunion.”

The words Cypher told me Chimera picked up comes in handy because the man’s eyes light up eagerly.

“He got the other one? He said there was another one like her and if I paid him good money, I could have them both.”

“Sure does. You’re supposed to come with us to get her. But he wants to see the reunion, so she needs to come too.”

The man’s brows draw together as he shakes his head. “No, that’s not right. He said I wouldn’t have to leave here. That he’d bring them to me. I don’t like leaving here.”

Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit.

“Butcher, get that fucking door open!”

I ignore the man’s manic screams as I head inside.

The door caves under the weight of Butcher’s heavy boot.

As I step past the threshold, the stench assaults my nostrils.

I bring my arm up in front of my nose as I climb down the stairs.

The basement is dark, and the hair on my arms rises the farther I travel into it.

“I need light down here.”

A chain drags across the damp concrete.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” I state softly.

Savior holds a flashlight in his hand, casting the beam of soft light across the room.

Dirty feet scurry backward as it lands on them.

I approach slowly, picking up on their terrified, harsh breathing the closer I get.

“My name is Pope. I’m part of the Saint’s Outlaws motorcycle club.

We’re looking for my ol’ lady and kids, and we received word that the man who brought you here has them.

Her name is Birdie. My son and daughter are Legend and Lovelyn. ”

“Birdie,” the feminine voice whispers.

The chains rattle as they move.

“Valkyrie.”

Another whisper, this one closer.

“Cian.”

I freeze as I realize this stranger is rattling off names that are as familiar to me as my own. “Who are you?” I ask harshly, no longer willing to be soft.

“Sisters.”

Another step, another whisper.

“Brother.”

This time, my heart races for a different reason.

Holy shit.

No fucking way.

Is this the kid Piston was looking for before he died?

She finally steps into the beam of Savior’s light, and we both suck in a sharp breath at her appearance.

Even with her gaunt frame, she’s a fucking replica of Cyanide. If it wasn’t for her being years younger than all of them, I’d swear they were twins.

Except for her green and honey eyes.

Those are Birdie’s, and it causes my chest to ache just looking into them.

“What the fuck?” Cyanide snarls, sending the woman scurrying away again.

Savior shines his light on her again, and Cyanide sucks in a sharp breath.

“It’s you,” he whispers.

The woman tilts her head, studying him. “Cian?”

His body jerks as she says his name. He nods warily, and the woman bursts into heaving sobs.

Motherfucking family reunion indeed.

“Get her the hell out of these,” Cyanide chokes out.

Butcher and Manic go to work while he watches helplessly.

“Let’s go see what this motherfucker has to say,” I grunt.

After hours of torture, we fucking finally have a location. Cypher and Chimera do their thing and within another two hours, we have confirmation that it’s where Frankie is hiding out.

Keep fighting, little mama.