Property of Drex (Death Chasers MC 2)

Before Pop can speak, I interject, “Eve made a call two weeks ago because I forced her to. Dash said her mom was at the police station freaking out. She was in that house with me when it started raining bullets. How could you think she’d deliberately set all that up? Even more importantly, how would she have set it up? Believe me, she wasn’t talking in code to her mother.”

Pop rolls his eyes. “Didn’t say she was some sort of mastermind, son. Just wanted her here so I could keep an eye on her. Christ, you’re paranoid.”

He sits down, and just because I’m fucking exhausted, I drop back down to the bed, cursing and wincing when I feel the aches in my body that I didn’t notice before. I must have hit the ground pretty damn hard.

“Call Drake,” I tell Axle, hoping he answers before I kill someone.

“Doing it.” He eyes my father warily while dialing Drake, and Pop talks while we wait.

“Hershel got word the Hell Breathers were chattering about an attack a few days before we all went home,” he says on a sigh. Axle’s head snaps up as he puts his phone away, meaning Drake didn’t fucking answer.

Again, I blame the head injury when it takes a second for Pop’s words to sink in.

“Wait, what? You knew shit was going to go down?” I demand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Pop frowns while glancing over at Axle. Sledge looks as pissed as I feel.

“Or me?” Sledge growls.

Hershel says nothing as Dash moves into the room better, limping noticeably toward Axle. My girl must have nailed him really damn good.

He grimaces as he lowers himself to a chair, but my attention is pulled back to Pop when Axle speaks.

“So you let us think the girl had something to do with it, while you sent us home to be bait long before the attack happened?”

Pop bristles, and in this moment, I start finding a lot of questions. Where was he? Was he safe and protected while I was exposed in the middle of nowhere with no backup? Was he prepared with guns, while I had to scrounge for weapons? Was he hiding like a coward while I scraped by with my life?

“I thought they’d come after me,” he says, shrugging. “The fewer people who knew, the better. I didn’t expect them to go after Drex. And I don’t know why they did. They don’t know we know it was them. Dash tells me they were wearing all black.”

“I didn’t know you had prior knowledge of an attack that you withheld,” Dash says quickly, growling. “I was ready to kill a girl who was apparently not as involved as you.”

My fists clench, but Axle is suddenly there, stopping me from charging Dash, someone I thought of as one of my friends until this moment. If he had hurt her—

Dash leaps up, pointing at me. “Calm down! I had no idea she was innocent. I have your back. Just as always. But I didn’t know I was getting played.”

Pop slams his hand down on a rolling table that collapses and falls, clattering loudly to the ground.

“Enough!” he roars. “I didn’t tell anyone because it was supposed to be an attack geared toward me! I don’t know why they went for Drex. I don’t even know why they were attacking.”

“You didn’t even bother to tell me?” I ask calmly, which immediately ices his fury, and an impassive expression masks his features.

“You’d have told your boys if I’d told you. Like I said, I wanted this kept close to vest. I wanted to draw Benny out. I was prepared for him.”

“But Drex wasn’t,” Axle coldly points out. “Because he had no warning, and since he’s your son, Benny went for him. He’s under the delusion you care about him more than anything else.”

Yeah, it fucking hurts. My father admits he doesn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut after all I’ve done for him over the years. And he silently admits he cares more about himself and the business—my business—than me.

Deciding not to show how personal I’m taking this, I shift the conversation. “Benny doesn’t sell the same merchandise we do. He’s nothing more than contracted muscle to loan sharks and bookies. So obviously this is a personal attack. We all know why. Let’s focus on what to do next.”

Axle’s eyes find mine, but I look away. I know he wants me to say something to Pop. But I know it’s not worth it. I’ll let my actions speak. As of this moment, I’m no longer his fucking loyal puppet.

“Why strike years after his brother’s death? Why wait?” Hershel muses, ignoring the thick tension that is strangling everyone else.

Sledge still looks disgusted, probably feeling excluded, since Pop didn’t even trust him. I keep talking, ignoring the death glares everyone is giving my asshole father.