goes over the night before. Jammer, Reno, and I had shown up at Reload’s place. We were going to take him out anyway, but I wanted my pound of flesh for what he’d done to Tess. My brothers understood and gave that to me…
Twelve hours earlier…
We enter the building in the dark of night. It’s not hard to gain access. We find his apartment, and I put a boot to the flimsy lock, busting the door open and cracking it against the wall. The son-of-a-bitch is asleep on the couch, the television on and a bottle of Tequila next to him.
I pull my gun and press it to his forehead. “Wake up, motherfucker.”
His bleary eyes open, and he focuses in on me, then the realization of the barrel pressed to his skin sinks in. “What the fuck do you want?”
Jammer chuckles from the door. “He’s the tooth fairy, Reload. Come to collect your molars.”
“Get up,” I order as I pass my piece to Reno and flex my fists. “I hear you like to beat on women, asshole.”
“What?” He staggers to his feet, taking in the three of us.
Gaining his feet is all I’ll give him to even the odds.
He eyes his gun lying just out of reach on the end table.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Reno warns, raising his weapon.
I grab Reload by the shirt with both fists and throw him across the room into a folding table and chairs. It smashes, and poker cards and half empty beer bottles tumble to the floor.
I pick up one of the longnecks and smash it against a corner of the wall until I’m left with just the jagged neck in my hand. I advance on him. “You’re a real tough guy, aren’t you, Reload? Like to hurt women and anything weaker than you. You’re a fucking piece of shit. Get to your damn feet and fight a man for a change, motherfucker.”
He staggers up, not taking his eyes from me. I lunge with the bottle and get a good slash across his face before he pivots and darts to the side, hissing in pain.
The apartment is small with not a lot of places for him to go. He’s tripping over shit as he backs up. He scans for a weapon… anything to use against me.
Not about to give him time to find one, I toss the broken bottle and charge him, plowing him into a wooden chair that smashes under both our weight. We roll on the floor, and I grab a broken chair leg and bash him in the head. Once I start, I can’t stop swinging. I hit him again and again until his blood is splattered all over the walls, and Jammer grabs my arm, halting my swing.
“He’s dead, bro.”
We hear a distant siren.
“Time to go,” Reno snaps, and we disappear down the back stairs, three dark shadows dressed all in black, right down to our gloves.
Rusty’s shout snaps me out of my memories.
“They’re coming up the front road, all three vehicles. Get ready,” he calls out to the clubhouse.
Silence reigns again.
I glance over at Jammer and whisper, “Whatever happens, I’ve got your back, brother.”
He grins. “Same, bro. Always.”
The door bursts open, and the shooting starts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tess—
“Damn key’s got to be somewhere,” I murmur. Hayley and I are looking through the pockets of every jacket my father has hanging in the closet when my phone rings. I recognize the number immediately and hiss, “It’s him.”
We both go silent as I listen to the recording telling me the call is coming from inside a state prison. I press one to accept charges and wave Hayley over to listen in. “Hello?”
“’Bout time you answered. You coming this weekend or what?”
Hayley mouths the words at me silently, tell him you’re not home.
I nod. “Sorry, I’ve got a lot to deal with right now with Mom in rehab. It won’t be tomorrow. I’m out of town right now. Maybe Sunday.”
“So… you’re not home right now?”
Hayley and I exchange a look, and I reply, “Nope.”
“Okay, well, how’s your mom?” It’s clear he adds the question almost as an afterthought.
I know he doesn’t care and is just making small talk, like that’s the reason he called. “She’s fine.”
“See you Sunday, then.” He disconnects before I can say anything else.
Hayley gives me a high-five. “He was in a hurry. I bet he’s calling Sylvia right now to get her ass over here.”
“We better get ready. You’ll need to hide your car down the street somewhere.”
“I’m