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Welcome to the Dark Side (The Fallen Men 2)

Page 120

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So I didn’t pray to God that I’d leave her to a better life if—no when—she pulled through.

I knew myself and I knew I wasn’t capable of that level of self-sacrifice.

But I did pray.

I went every goddamn day to First Light Church and sat in the same front pew Lou’d spent almost every Sunday mornin’ of her life in ’til she found me again, and I fuckin’ prayed to God for her life. Pastor fuckin’ Lafayette had seen me the first day and sat with me each time, sayin’ nothin’ just lendin’ me his goodness so I could use it to amplify my own and make my prayers shine brighter.

If God’d give her back to me, I’d never let ’er go. Not to violence, wrath or greed. Not to vice or virtue. Not even to death.

I’d keep her safe, I promised the Almighty, and I’d do it keeping ’er at my side and guardin’ her ’til my last fuckin’ breath.

Still, I didn’t need fuckin’ B.J. remindin’ me of the dark voices in my head sayin’ I was no good for her and where the fuck did he get off thinkin’ that shit himself?

“You got a problem with me, Blackjack?” I asked low.

Somethin’ dark flashed in his eyes then fled like prey. “Sorry, brother, you don’t need my shit.”

“Damn right, he doesn’t.” Buck hit him again, this time hard in the shoulder. “Shut your mouth ’til I tell you to fuckin’ open it again.”

“Prez, there’s someone here you need to see,” Axe-Man said as he came up the steps.

“Who?”

“Lysander Garrison.”

Immediately, I was tearin’ down the steps to the front gates. The fuck stood there talkin’ to a mean lookin’ Nova.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here? It better be to fuckin’ explain why you were with those fuckers who killed my brother and got my girl wastin’ away in the hospital,” I roared as I picked the six-foot-two motherfucker up by the neck and shoulder and shoved him into the chain-link fence.

He blinked at me, calm as could fuckin’ be. “It is.”

“Start talkin’ then.”

“After you let me go and told me to get lost forever, Officer Danner picked me up as I was hightailin’ it outta town. Told me he needed my help puttin’ the Nightstalkers down for good.”

Buck snorted behind me. “Like the cops could take down an operation like that. Fuckin’ pigs.”

Blackjack laughed his nervous, yippy laugh.

I turned to glare at him and found him sweatin’, lookin’ back and forth between Lysander and me like we were puttin’ on a tennis match.

He was high as a fuckin’ kite and somethin’ about havin’ a high brother involved with club business had always seemed like a bad fuckin’ idea.

“Get him in a cold fuckin’ shower ’fore he keels over and dies,” I ordered Priest who immediately acted, his face twisted with disgust as he dragged the tweaker away.

“You gonna tell me where those motherfucking Nightstalkers are hidin’?” I asked, turnin’ back to Lysander.

“No,” he said. “But mostly ’cause they don’t have a base of operations here. They have a clubhouse down in Vancouver right now, but they won’t relocate ’til they flush you out. Like I said, I’m workin’ with Danner and even the cops can’t get a location on ’em.”

“Why the fuck would you help Danner? You think I was lyin’ when I told you I’d put you in the ground if you showed your face again in Entrance?”

“Wanted to be able to look my sister in the eye again and tell ’er I’d made things right.”

“And how are you makin’ things right? Far as I can tell, my brother is dead ’cause of you,” I snarled in his face.

“I know. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. But Ace is a maniac and no matter how long I ride with him, I can’t predict what that high motherfucker is gonna do. Someone told him your girls were up at that cabin. One of The Fallen.”

“Fuck,” I roared into his face and squeezed his neck tighter. “Who!?”

“Don’t know. All I came ’ere to tell you was that Danner’s a good cop and between the two of us we’re this fuckin’ close to nailin’ ’em.”

“And what the fuck do you want me to do about it?”

I stared at his neck to center the anger threatenin’ to overwhelm me. I stared at the pulse in his throat thumping up against my thumb and I thought about how easy it would be to snap his neck. I’d done it before; it wasn’t as hard as you’d think.

“One of the players, Warren, he has a thing for Louise—” His voice cut off with a garble because I now had my hand pressed to his windpipe.

“You dare to fuckin’ mention her name when she’s barely fuckin’ breathin’?” I said quiet. “Don’t think you understand that I’m a fuckin’ monster, Sander, and I ain’t afraid to kill a man. Not even one that’s kin to my son’s woman or one in bed with the fuckin’ police. I’ll snap your neck and have you with the pigs in record time. You know it takes pigs eight minutes to eat a full-grown body?”



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