Page 68

Rachel

“Brother,” Vienna greeted as we approached them. He enveloped Dante in a hug, slapping his shoulder as he did so. “Brother’s old lady,” he said as he pulled away, nodding his head in my direction.

“Greetings, random spare part of a loser club,” I nodded back.

“Salute, woman who causes nothing but issues.”

“Good morrow, man with the disgusting beard,” I grinned back.

Vienna grabbed his chest and stumbled backwards. “That was too far, woman. Too far.”

“I could have said it looks dry and full of split ends.”

“Well, we all know you would have been lying.”

“I’m nothing if not honest.”

“That’s not true. You’re also a gigantic pain in the ass,” Dante interrupted.

“We weren’t talking to you. This is an A and B conversation, so C your way out,” Vienna said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me away from Dante’s side.

Dante growled in response and Vienna dropped his arm, seeming to remember who he was dealing with.

The atmosphere in the room changed, all the lightness disappearing in a second.

I knew enough about Vienna to know he led with humour whenever he was nervous or overwhelmed, and I always indulged him, because I was often awkward in difficult situations, and always said the wrong thing.

Dante, however, was serious most of the time.

We were chalk and cheese. He only showed his calm side when he was most relaxed – which was whenever he was alone with me, or when he was in familiar surroundings with his closest friends.

Not when he was in hospital, having just found out his dad was fighting what might be his final fight.

“Has anything been said?” I asked, clearing my throat as the tension grew.

“Not really,” Vienna sighed, taking a seat next to Chicken and Rooster.

“What was the last update?” Dante asked, folding his arms and leant against the wall.

“A cardiac injury, or something,” Rooster answered. “Big Mama is in with Crash at the minute. She might know more. But they said that there were lacerations of the coronary arteries, a ventricular defect, and gunshot pellets in the chest wall.”

“And what does all that mean?” I asked. Because to me, this all sounded fucking terrifying. Obviously, I knew what lacerations meant, and I understood the overall gist of what was being said, but what did this mean for Crash?

“We don’t know. There have been cases where things like this were asymptomatic and weren’t detected until months later. Yet there have also been cases where this has killed someone straight away. And with Crash having a heart attack as a response to the shooting…”

“It means it’s looking fucking grim,” Chicken finished for his brother.

“I’ve already told Shark to gather the rest of the lads in church,” Vienna said. I shot a glance at Dante, but he remained against the wall, his eyes closed. He appeared completely at peace.

I knew better.

“Obviously Trent and Hacksaw are in hospital themselves, but Hacksaw has already been stitched up, and Trent only has minor injuries. They’re both due to be released soon, and they’ll meet the rest of the guys at church.”

“Why are they gathering at church?” I asked, fear clutching at my heart.

Vienna shot me a look. The icy fingers of fear tightened its grip on me.

I knew what that fucking look meant. “Because if Crash doesn’t make it through this, Dante will need to be sworn in as president straight away.

With Nico in power, we can’t risk being without a president. It leaves us vulnerable to attack.”

Breathing was becoming difficult .

I wasn’t fucking stupid. I knew Dante was destined to be president.

I had known it within five seconds of meeting him.

But I didn’t want him president in the middle of a fucking war.

Especially not with that psycho ruling their rival gang.

We had already lost Zach and now we might lose Crash.

The Riders clearly thought nothing of killing off the big players.

“Is this what you want?” I said to Dante, forcing my voice to remain calm and steady.

He opened one eye and gave me a withering look that had me shrinking in my seat. “Of course. This has always been my destiny. Why would I reject it now when I’ve prepared for it for so long?”

“Because it’s dangerous?”

“So is crossing the road on a Friday evening when the pubs are let out. You could get run over by a drunk driver. You could get stabbed by a stranger. You could be targeted by a rapist when all you were doing was going for a morning run. You could be wrapped up in a grooming gang when all you wanted was a fun night out. You know better than anyone, the world is a dangerous place. We just have to choose the path we think is the best. And I chose mine the second I put on my first leather jacket.”

A door opened further up the long corridor, and we were all silenced as Mama came out, her face puffy, her eyes red and swollen. She was wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, her breathing coming in soft hiccups.

“Mama,” Chicken said, rising from his seat and offered it to her. She looked up, and her lips moved as though to thank him, when her eyes fell on me and Dante.

“You,” she hissed.

Oh God. What the fuck have I done now?

“You!” she hissed again, marching down the corridor. I stood up, bracing myself for her attack. But instead, she barged straight past me and slapped her son around his face.

“You! What the fuck took you so long? Why the fuck weren’t you here?” She slapped him again, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek. Dante gritted his teeth, a tick appearing in his jaw, but otherwise he remained calm and showed no sign of responding to her violence.

“I— ”

“Your dad had a fucking heart attack, Dante!” She hissed at him. “A fucking heart attack! And where were you? I’ll tell you where you were! You were too busy chasing around that whore of yours to care!”

“I guess we’re over our little bonding session from earlier. I only hugged you whilst you sobbed over headless Zach, but fuck me, right?”

“This is what I mean!” Mama growled. “You have no control over her at all! Because of her, you weren’t here when your father needed you!”

She slapped him again, and I saw his temper reaching its limit.

“Erm… Mama?” Vienna said. “Might I remind you that in Crash’s absence, that’s the current president you’re slapping?”

“Oh, what’s he going to do? Kill his own mother?” She almost laughed, rolling her eyes as though it was the most absurd thought in the world.

“I mean… It’s not a bad idea,” I shrugged. “Let’s not be too quick to dismiss it.”

Everyone ignored me as Dante finally spoke, his voice surprisingly composed, considering all the shit he had been through tonight.

“For your information, Mother, I wasn’t anywhere near Rachel tonight.

I wasn’t even with her when the shooting started.

Vienna was. I was at home, recovering from the massacre we just committed.

The massacre we were wholly unprepared for, but we did because the president, your fucking old man, forced us into it to avenge a brother.

None of us had any fucking control over tonight.

We were all just trying to survive. We had no preparation for this.

We lacked manpower, weapons, a strategy.

All because the president wanted his revenge for Zach, without giving thought to the ramifications for the rest of the club! ”

“So you would rather we did nothing?” She shrieked. “Zach was your brother!” She slapped him again, this time hard enough to have his head flying to the side.

I swear I heard the literal snap of his temper breaking.

Before anyone could stop him, he slapped his mother in return, knocking her into the wall.

I smothered a gasp as Vienna reached out to steady her.

“I would rather the women and children were evacuated, Mother. I would rather my child and old lady were somewhere safe before we brought war to our grounds. And I wasn’t even with my old lady and child tonight, because I was arrested on mass murder charges defending our fucking home.

So don’t you fucking dare ask where I was. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“You hit me,” she sobbed, holding her cheek.

“Be grateful that’s all I fucking did. I indulge you and your godforsaken attitude because you’re my mother, and you’ve done a lot for this club.

But I’ve had it now. There will be no more questioning me, and there will be no more dictating my choices.

You are not a fucking leader. You are an old lady, and it's about fucking time you started acting like one. Instead of thinking you get to tell me what I can and can’t do, and where I should have or should not have been.

Oh,” he said, looking down at her with scorn.

“And should you ever say one more bad word about Rachel, you can consider yourself banished the second I am sworn in as president. You will no longer call her a skank, a whore, or anything else derogatory. You will speak to her with the respect she deserves, just like you expect to be spoken to with the respect you demand.”

Mama scoffed. “And what has she done to earn respect?”

“Right, can we just circle back to the whole killing her thing? I feel like we dismissed that far too quickly,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, will you shut the fuck up for once? Why do you always have to open your smart mouth?”

“Because my legs are too tired to be open that often. And like the good whore I am, it's either legs or mouth.” Chicken and Rooster smothered a laugh, and Vienna smirked at me.

“Enough!” Dante barked. “You can consider us done, Mother. Did I, or did I not, just warn you about the way you speak to Rachel? I haven’t intervened, because we all know Rachel can handle herself and doesn’t need me rescuing her.

But enough is enough. You can't speak to her with respect, then you don’t speak to her at all.

Do you know what I think your problem is? ”

“Enlighten me,” Mama replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I think your problem is, Rachel highlights all your flaws as an old lady. You left Bee to her own devices. Rachel went chasing after her through the flames to ensure she was rescued. You were sobbing on the steps, unable to think of anyone through your own grief when we saw Zach. Rachel ensured Bee was taken to safety. I can’t actually remember the last time you did anything to help this club.

Rachel was right when she said you were just the loudmouth behind the bar.

Your presence here has become like the furniture.

It’s expected you’re going to be there, but you don’t actually provide any valuable function that can’t be replaced. ”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the grin that was threatening to take over my entire face.

Fucking finally!

I was aware that it was harsh to be doing this when her husband was fighting for his life. But this was a long time coming, and she had pushed Dante into this. I wasn’t going to do a thing to stop it. Not when he was on such a roll.

“How dare you speak to your mother like this?”

“Like what? With the truth? Tell me what you’ve done recently that has proved valuable? Because the other old ladies have jobs. They work at the bar, the hairdressers. They balance the books at the garage.”

“I work at the bar, too!”

“When? When was the last time?” Dante shot back without missing a beat.

“And what does she do?” Mama hissed, pointing in my direction.

What was her fucking problem with me?

Alright, fine, yes, I killed her son. But she had hated me the second she saw me, and I hadn’t actually done anything to her at that point.

“In case it’s escaped your notice,” I said coldly, narrowing my eyes at her. “I haven’t had time to do anything . Since the moment I arrived, it’s been one fiasco after another.”

“Disasters you caused!” She screamed at me.

“Oh, yeah, because I was responsible for Macbeth planting bombs in the clubhouse. Silly me!”

“Excuse me. Mrs King?” came a soft voice. We all turned in the direction of the interruption.

“Yes?” she said, her breathing ragged.

“I’m so sorry—”

I didn’t hear anymore. All I could hear was the screaming as Mama dropped to her knees and screamed as though the very soul had been ripped from her body .

Crash was dead.

And Dante was the new president.