Page 4 of Delirium
Their president was like a brother to me, and even though we hadn’t seen each other since the gathering, I considered him family. We spoke just yesterday, going over our plans, talking about the possible alliance with the Italians, even before Ophelia brought it up.
And now… Now he was probably dead.
Indigo was in Winworth, dealing with the shitshow there and talking to that kid. I was glad he wasn’t sitting here with us now. I was glad he wasn’t witnessing this, knowing that he still carried the pain from losing his parents and the rest of his family in that attack so many years ago.
Atlas drummed his fingers on the table, the itch to get out of here and do something evident on his face, but there was nothing we could do.
Two hours ago, at twelve in the morning, I received a call from a police officer down in San Diego. Fire swallowed the entire chapter house, and the report was not looking good. Bodies littered the front yard—women, men, children. They were all slaughtered before the fire started, and I immediately knew.
“Why aren’t they calling?” Creed asked, looking at me as if I could give him an answer. “We should be there. We should get on our bikes and ride over there.”
“Creed,” Atlas warned, looking at him. “You know that there’s nothing we can do at this point.”
“It’s been two hours, for fuck’s sake,” Creed thundered. “Two hours and no news. Our friends are there, families…” he trailed off, looking at Hector. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going there.”
He started walking toward the door, and I stood up.
“Creed!” I bellowed, stopping him in his tracks. “Sit the fuck down,” I commanded.
“But—”
“Now!”
I had no time nor patience for insolence tonight, and if it was the person that sent me that first letter, then we were fucked. I had no idea if they were coming for us next.
I called the rest of the chapters as soon as the news about San Diego traveled to us, warning them, asking them to prepare for a possible attack.
We were on a lockdown—no one came in and no one went out. Every single family member was in the house tonight, and they would stay here until I was sure the threat was over.
The day was looking out to be perfect, and I was finally starting to work on a plan where I could keep Ophelia, my kids and my Club safe, but that wasn’t happening any time soon.
In one night, I was going to lose it all, and I had no idea how to deal with this. How was I supposed to tell my men that this was all my fault? How was I supposed to tell them that I made a wrong choice, even if I didn’t want to?
Other presidents knew about the threat, but we were too relaxed, too comfortable, and this was what happened when our personal needs came before the Club.
And Club always had to come first.
The door suddenly opened, slamming against the wall, and a scared-looking Damien stepped inside, startling us all. There was a box in his hands—a white box with dripping blood on the bottom.
“Prez—” he started, his eyes wide, his fear almost palpable. “We, uh,” he stammered. “We found this at the front gate. There’s a letter as well. It… There’s blood, Prez.”
Fuck, fuck,fuck!
I walked toward him and took the box from his hands, seeing the crimson covering his skin. The letter was stuck on top of the box, and I dreaded seeing what was inside.
Damien rushed out of the room, leaving us alone with the fucking box. As I dropped it on the table, the blood dripping from it suddenly spreading around. I tore the envelope from the front and pulled out the letter, my eyes widening as soon as I saw the header and the name.
Atlas took the box, opening it with the pocketknife he carried, but I was lost in the words written in the letter.
The person who threatened us, the person who attacked San Diego, was Belladonna. The same woman who was after Ophelia.
“Fuck!” I slammed the letter on top of the desk, turning toward the box. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I continued cursing. “Open it, Atlas,” I instructed, but I was too afraid of what the contents would be.
“Storm,” Atlas murmured. “I don’t think that I can. It… I just.”
I grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it softly, trying to give him strength that even I didn’t have. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”
I pulled the lid open, a strangled cry escaping from my mouth as soon as my eyes connected with the lifeless eyes of my dear friend.
