Page 62 of The Devil's Reward
The man slowly stands, and he’s my height, so he stares me in the eye with no fear. “You think you can come in here making demands,podonok?” he snarls at me. “You got a lot of balls. Wait til the boss hears about this.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be perfectly happy to talk to your boss right now,” I return. He doesn’t react to my words.
“What do you want?” he asks after a long, tense moment of silence.
“I want to know who ordered the hit on our women and us,” I say, my fury barely concealed. The surprise in his eyes is fleeting, but it’s there and it’s enough for me to guess that either he doesn’t know because he’s low on the need-to-know list, or he knows that Dmitri didn’t order the hit.
Finally, a smirk pulls at his lips. “Am I supposed to be sad?” he sneers at me. “Far as I’m concerned, the less of you around, the easier it is for us.”
“He really is stupid,” Viper drawls darkly behind me. “I think he wants you to shoot him, Shadow. Maybe we should accommodate him.”
“I’m thinking the same thing,” I agree. The guy’s fingers twitch like he’s anxious to reach for his gun, but the look on my face stops him.
“I don’t have anything to do with whatever you’ve got going on here,” the guy finally says. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t be saying shit to you.”
My phone rings and I step back, just as Viper steps forward in a practiced move. I put the phone to my ear. “Yes?” I ask.
“Found tracks and they lead right back to the clubhouse,” Crypt says bluntly.
“Thanks,” I say, then I hang up the phone. Fury washes through me. Our mole tried to kill us. To kill Bullet, and to kill everyone in that car. Whether or not those were Dmitri’s orders remains to be seen. But I doubt the lowlife in front of me will know what those orders were. I resume my position next to Viper and say, “You tell Dmitri that if he ordered this hit, I’ll personally rip his head from his neck.”
Then I turn and head for the door. Viper follows behind me, guarding my back, and we head for our bikes. “What do you got?” Viper asks as we straddle our bikes.
“Crypt found tracks leading from that burning SUV right back to the clubhouse,” I say tightly.
“Fucker,” Viper hisses, his face darkening with his fury. “And now we have a mole at the hospital.”
“Call Sniper and get people outside their rooms. Our mole would be stupid to try again with that many people there, but I don’t want to chance it. Don’t tell King, Stone, or Torque, because with everything going on, they could go off the handle.”
“What are we going to do?” Viper asks.
I shake my head. “We can’t do anything for now. I need to clear my head.”
“You alright?” Viper asks, concern clear in his eyes.
I stare out at the street and then look back over at the garage. Through the window, I can see our guy on the phone, and I already know who he’s talking to. I’m so angry, and it’s taking everything I have not to get off my bike and go pound the guy into the ground.
“I need to clear my head,” I repeat, and then I turn on my bike and drive away. I don’t stop until I arrive at a place I promised myself I wouldn’t visit again unless I absolutely had to.
The sky is dusky when I get to the cemetery. The cool orange of the sunset over the hills should be calming, but I ignore it as I pull my bike along the side of the road, and walk towards the grave standing sentry at the top of the hill. I reach it, and I stare at it.
Samantha Nolans.
Her family moved away not long after she was buried, too tired and sad to be haunted daily by their memories. I don’t blame them. But right now, I wish it was hundreds or thousands of miles away. I hate it with everything in me at this moment that I know that Rose or Bullet or Sage could be lying right here next to her.
I stare at her headstone and the memories flash hard and fast. The firefight; the explosions of whatever the enemy threw our way; the screams of agony, right before death, both from my team and the men they killed; the smell of burning flesh and blood; and finally, the silence. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to make them stop, but they don’t.
Then it’s images of pulling my team out of the line of fire. Of pulling Armon out of the middle of the open clearing where he fell, his blood on my hands as I tried to keep from getting shot. I radioed for help, but nothing came back to me. Or if it did, I don’t remember. Armon was gone before I got him to cover. Same with the rest, including Sam.
Sam had been the last to be hit, and I watched as the bullet hit her in the throat. She fell to the ground, her weapon falling from her hand.
“Sam!” I screamed, ignoring the hail of bullets, everything, as I raced for her, my own weapon firing at everyone and everything I could. When I reached her, she was staring up at me, light fading from her eyes, and her mouth opening and closing as she tried to speak. I begged her to stay with me, but I knew there was no hope. No one could survive that, but I didn’t leave her until she was gone.
Then I got back up and got back to work. Numb, angry, and grieving, but it pushed me to end it all. So I pulled the pin from my last grenade and threw it far enough that it took out most of the people still firing on me. The rest retreated, and then it was silent.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, emotion clawing at me as I stare at her grave. Anger burns through me. Despair and grief grip me by the throat. “You never should have died, Sam,” I grit out, the words barely making it past my lips. “I should have protected you. I should have pulled you out and kept you with me that day, but you were being your stubborn fucking self and refused to fall back. So I watched you die. Now it’s happening all over again with Rose. And Bullet and Sage. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, put in a good word for them. Do not let me lose them. Do not let them meet you yet, wherever you are. I need them here with me more than you do.Please.”
Nothing. The only sound is the wind. Not that I expected anything else. Heart aching, I turn away, and check my phone but see no updates from anyone. I need to get back to the hospital, so I walk back down to my bike and straddle it. I glance back at the stone, heart heavy. Then I turn on my bike and drive away.
