Lazarus (The Henchmen MC 7)

Because while we had the green light to exact some justice, we had no idea how far Reign would be okay with us taking it. A beating? An eye for an eye because they messed with what belonged to us? That would always fly. But murder? It was pushing it.

That being said, I was pretty sure all of them would be eating out of straws for a while.

It was a full ten minutes later before I finally had to step in and pull Edison back, knowing that the way he was going, he would end up beating the fuck to death without even meaning to- just too caught up in the moment.

Without Edison's hands holding him up, his body slumped to the floor- unconscious.

"He's got a basement," Pagan supplied and with that, Edison hauled the dead weight over his shoulder and carried him down two flights of stairs, locking him into a small room in the basement from the outside.

Then from there, we made our way to Mitchell's.

"Can't say I haven't been expecting this." That was how we were greeted when we walked into his main floor.

Mitchell stood in the doorway to his study, a gun raised in a steady hand. There was really no mistaking it then- the evil in his eye, the complete lack of remorse for what he had done to many people, including Bethany, for the monsters he had turned his sons into as well. "I guess I am to assume that is my son's blood all over you," he said, nodding his head toward Edison, not seeming the least bit worried. "Did he survive the beating or not?"

There was nothing in his tone. Just deadness. He didn't even give a fuck about his own son.

"Mine, right?" Pagan asked at my side.

I nodded a little tightly, not knowing why he was taking that moment to clear things up seeing as none of us had guns and he seemed like he would be a pretty decent shot judging by his stance and confident hold of the gun.

I really needed to learn to stop expecting sane behavior from Pagan.

As soon as he saw my nod, he was no longer at my side, but walking across the space toward Mitchell.

Yes, walking.

Fucking... swaggering.

He didn't even falter when the gun turned on him fully, when Mitchell's finger slid to the trigger.

"There's a little problem with this type of gun," Pagan said casually, making Mitchell's eyes go to the gun in question, seeming to worry if there were some kind of flaw with it, that it wouldn't protect him or might backfire or something. But the second his eyes were averted, Pagan's hand clamped down on the top of the gun as his fist pulled back then surged upward, landing a solid undercut to the man's chin. The crack was almost deafening in the giant, open space. "They only work when you aren't too much of a pussy to use it," he informed the man as he sank down onto his knees.

Pagan pulled the gun away, holding it out behind him and I moved forward to take it, moving over toward the curtain on the window and wiping all our prints and DNA off of it as Pagan snagged the back of Mitchell's collar and dragged him fully into his study.

"What do you want? The girl? Take her. Some two-bit junkie? Who the fuck needs her?"

There was a loud growling noise and I hadn't even been aware it came from me until Mitchell's eyes drifted over to mine, running me up and down, assessing me and, if his eye roll was anything to go by, finding me lacking.

"Might be a smart time to shut up, buddy," Pagan advised, looking down at the man in front of him.

"I'm just curious what the end game here is? I have no plans on stopping what I am doing. Neither of us want the cops in our lives. So if you're not going to kill me... what happens after your rabid dog gets done with me?"

He would go back to exactly what he had been doing. He would keep screwing over people. He would keep being responsible for people OD'ing on the streets.

But that being said, it wasn't our place to take him out.

Reign had turned a blind eye to V's organization for years until he came across Summer. He had a cocaine dealer as a father-in-law. He was friends with men who beat people for a living.

The strength of The Henchmen MC seemed to be knowing which fight was theirs and which wasn't then acting accordingly.

With our numbers still decimated, we couldn't be bringing any more heat down on ourselves.

So there was nothing we could do. I would get revenge for Bethany's pain. I would make sure they understood that they would never even speak her name again, not even in a whisper, that if they saw her out on the street, they would fucking turn and walk away.