Page 41 of Bullet

“Christ! I’m glad we’re on the same side,” I mutter as I get up and wipe my hands clean of grease on the rag Blade holds out to me.

“Ditto,” he answers, then we walk to the compound together.

Guard

There is nothing I hate more than dirty cops. What’s more, pointing the finger at the club, my club, is not something I’ll tolerate. It’s taken me years to build a solid club and reputation. I made a solemn vow years ago to never start a war, but I would most definitely end one to keep Satan’s Pride free from the shit that goes on in other clubs.

“Guard, you’re too far in your own head,” my brother says. Yeah, Ghost and I have been through hell and back. I lost him for so long, I didn’t think he’d ever come home to the Pride. I turn to find him leaning on the doorframe.

“It’s never done.” I sigh.

“The world is full of shitty people doing shitty things to good people. Remember how you got your name?” he asks, not really asking the question, though. “You’re the guardian of Satan’s Pride. Calian knew you had the gift and that you were destined to be a leader.”

“You have the gift,” I remind him.

He nods and smirks. “I do. And I don’t. I can feel danger, and I can act, but you see what the men need. You’ve kept us safe. You know”—his grin gets bigger—“Gavin is just like you.”

He’s not wrong; my son is my miniature version. He’s strong-minded and smart. I haven’t spoken to my son yet about the man who raised Ghost and me. Calian wasn’t our biological father, but he was our father in every other way. God, I miss him every day. He was taken from us, but it was his teachings that saw me through the rough times. Calian came from indigenous roots, and the way he lived was simple, but he taught me to read people, search for signs, and to believe in myself.

I vowed I would make a difference, and it’s as if Calian has been watching over me all these years, because it led me to meet an MC president who became my mentor until I was ready to launch my own chapter. The right men came to me, and we’ve been thriving ever since.

“I need to be his Calian,” I tell Ghost. “But first, I need our club washed clean from the shit the Irish mob is trying to land on our doorstep.”

Ghost shows me his sinister glare. “Let’s get it done.”

Twenty-Three

Confession Is Good for the Soul

Bullet

Guard asked me to call Vance and let him know we have the man who pulled the trigger on his father. I barely got the words out before he hung up, and not twenty minutes later, he shows up at the compound.

“I want to see them!” Vance shouts, like he thinks it will make a difference. I want to jump in and hold him off, but Guard waves me away.

“Not until you calm the fuck down,” he tells him. “You want justice for your father. I get that. My men have been set up to take the fall for your father’s death, and that comes before you put a bullet in their heads. They’re after Violet, and we need to know why. I made a promise to call you, and I’m keeping that promise, but you don’t get to see them or talk to them until you rein it in. We have too much at stake for you to fuck this up.”

“Did he take away the most important man in your life?” Vance growls, going nose to nose with our president. I see Ghost getting pissed off and stepping forward.

Our president stands his ground, puts a hand on his shoulder, and says, “My father was taken from me and my brother. Don’t tell me I don’t know what it feels like. You want to inflict the final blow, fine. But not until I get what I need out of them.” Guard drops his hand. “Two choices: one, sit here with my men and wait until we’re done, or two: go home and wait for one of us to come get you.”

“I’m not leaving,” Vance responds through clenched teeth.

“Number one it is, then.” Guard looks at Roscoe, “Keep Vance company.” What he really means is don’t let him out of your sight and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Ghost’s phone rings. He answers on the first ring and gets right to the point, “What’s the update?” There’s silence, and we all turn to look in his direction. After a brief pause, he hands the phone to Guard. “Demon.”

Guard acknowledges he’s on the line, then goes silent to hear what Demon has to say. “How many?” Another pause, before he asks, “How many are left?” He ends with “Get it done, and get your ass back here in one piece.” Guard doesn’t delay to share the news. “Demon and Dante have gotten messages to half the men on the list. They’re making progress and are willing to cut a deal. They’re working on the rest.” He turns to me. “Bullet, you’re with me.” Then he looks over his shoulder to Ghost. “Expect a call when they’re done. Calls need to be made to the right people. You’re doing that with Risk.”

I follow Guard down to the hidden cellar. It’s not a place we use often, but Guard knows that our MC will always be a target and had it built when the compound was constructed by Risk with the club brothers’ help.The two men tied to chairs are the same men Dante and Orion were able to get photos of. You’d think they’d show some kind of fear, but there’s nothing but darkness in their eyes.

“Have they said anything?” Guard asks.

“Only that we’re going to pay for this,” War answers.

“Do you really think Jonah O’Malley gives a shit that you’re missing? You fucked up getting caught. He’ll consider it a favor we get rid of you,” Sebastian says with a sinister laugh.

War looks in my direction, shrugs, and jerks his head toward the two men. “You want to give it a shot?”