Biker Saviour: The Lost Souls MC Series (22 page)

I climb out of the truck first and Ricky waits for Dean to move before he does. In the end, Ricky has to push him out.

Sniffling with snot pouring out of his nose, Dean cries like a bitch.

“Please, man. You don’t need to do this, I wasn’t going near her again,” he whines.

“This isn’t about what you were going to do, it’s about what you have done,” I tell him, “now stand right there,” I point to the end of the grave but he doesn’t move.

Ricky is closest to him and drags him to the spot and then comes to stand beside me.

“Once we start shooting he’s going to go down pretty quick, get every shot you want in fast. I want him looking like a dot-to-dot puzzle.”

“Are we not going to beat him first? He fuckin’ deserves it.”

“No, we don’t need any of his DNA on us. We shoot and he falls back, all we have to do is fill the hole with him in it. We’ll walk away clean, we’ll go home and Sally and Kyla won’t have to witness us washing his blood away.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, cocking his gun.

All through our conversation, Dean has cried and ended up pissing his pants in fear. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a grown man piss himself out of fear.

“This is for my daughter, the woman you profess to be in love with. When you killed before, it was shoot or be shot, this is different, is your love enough drive to wipe this cunt off the earth?”

I watch him stare at Dean, his body racked with the shakes, and see the vail of commitment to my daughter descend.

“Fuck yeah.”

Standing shoulder to shoulder with my brother and the man who will one day be my son-in-law, we both raise our guns and take aim. I look straight into Dean’s eyes, “as you about to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, the only evil you need fear is me, mother fucker.”

“On my count, make every shot count,” I say, “One, two, three,” I yell.

Shell cases fly everywhere and Dean’s body takes a good few shots before he falls back into the grave like I planned. The both of us walk towards the hole in the ground and use the last of our bullets to shoot down on his shot ridden carcass until we’re both out. His face is unrecognizable, his chest is hanging open and one of his knee caps has been blown open.

Complete satisfaction flows through me, when I look at Ricky across the open grave, he looks content as well.

“Wipe the gun and throw it in,” I tell him, breaking the aftermath silence.

He wipes it good and launches it into Dean’s head, his last act of aggression towards him. I wipe mine down and throw it in with less force.

“Now, we pick up all the shell cases.”

We backtrack to where we first started shooting and pick up every last case. I throw them in too and return to the truck.

Grabbing the can I make sure to splash it all over his body and go overboard until it’s empty.

Ricky stands watching in silence while I pull out my pack of smokes. Lighting one up, I drop the lighter into the grave and Dean’s body goes up in flames.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now we wait, you said we could bond over a BBQ, why don’t you go get us some steaks,” I laugh, watching his face go green.

“That’s so wrong, Pope,” he shudders, watching the flames burn Dean’s body.

“We wait for the flames to die down then we bury him, and go home.”

The drive back to Willows Peak is silent but not awkward. What’s done is done and he understands it’s time to move on. There’s no point in talking it out like women.

He pulls into the clubhouse but he doesn’t make a move to get out.

“I would do anything for Kyla, Pope. I’ve never felt anything like this before and I know it’s something I don’t ever want to lose. You don’t need to worry about her, I’ll look after her and make sure she never goes without.”

He’s serious and I believe him.

“I know you will, welcome to the family. May you keep her safe and don’t fuck it up,” I grunt, but smile.

I hold out my hand and he shakes it in return.

“Let’s get a drink.”

Walking into the bar I nod to Cas at the bar letting him know it’s done and pull up a chair next to Ricky sitting at Sparky’s table.

“So, you two all bonded and shit now?” he chuckles.

Ricky looks at me and smiles, “Yeah, we’re all bonded and shit.”

Pope

Riding fourth in line towards the Devil’s Bastards clubhouse, death and paranoia hangs in the air like thick fog. One by one we park up on the edge of their property and are welcomed by Noah, Linc’s oldest friend and brother, in his fifties and still doesn’t look a day over forty.

“I’m glad you could all make it,” he says, greeting us and back slapping Cas.

“We wouldn’t miss it, Linc was a good friend and didn’t deserve to be taken out like that,” Cas tells him, it’s what we’re all thinking.

“Have you heard anything about anything?” he asks, more in the dark than we are.

“Nothing, I’m waiting on calls myself. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

Noah nods and looks back at the clubhouse, grimacing.

Cas catches on to the ill feeling as I do and I scan our surroundings to see for myself if anything is out of place.

“Is there something we should know?” Cas asks him when he doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know if it’s ‘cause we’re burying Linc and the others today but there has been a strange shifting around here lately and I can’t pin it down. Somethings going on, I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“We’ll keep our eyes open while we’re here, if there is something we’ll let you know.”

Noah nods and heads back in the clubhouse, Cas turns to us and pulls out his smokes. Lighting one up he inhales deeply and frowns.

“I can feel something wrong just standing out here,” he grumbles.

“Has anyone said what they’re gonna do now Linc is gone?” Sparky asks, pulling out his own pack of smokes.

“Nothing, I think they’re waiting for today to be over. Noah seems the best fit to take the gavel, I think that’s what Linc would’ve wanted.” Slade says.

“I remember Linc wanting your old lady,” Sparky laughs.

“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out for him, did it?” Slade spits.

I remember that run, Slade had him up against the van in a split second threatening to feed his wife his balls if he even looked at Kristen again.

A few of the Devil’s Bastards come out and say hello, and a few of the brothers strike up conversations but again, something still feels off.

“Has anyone noticed that not everyone has come out to see us? In fact, only six Bastards have ventured out to our arrival,” I say, speaking up.

On our previous visits the place is normally swarming with brothers, even with half their club shot to death, there should be more brothers about.

“It hasn’t gone unnoticed, Brother. We’ll give them today and go from there. Once they start thinking of trying to heal their club, we’ll talk with them,” Cas says, looking at each of us.

I’m pretty sure Cas wants them to patch into the Lost Souls, it would make sense now there is only a handful of them left breathing.

“Given recent events, everyone be on alert, who knows what could fuckin’ happen today,” Oak grunts, sounding bored.

The rest of the afternoon is pretty much standard for a funeral of our kind. Linc’s old lady can hardly talk through her grief, the other old ladies surround her and they cry together for the men they’ve lost. We all stand united behind the Devil’s Bastards at the cemetery as the coffins are lowered into the ground. Noah was right, their club is broken and what is left is strained.

Back at their clubhouse food and drinks are laid out, but apart from Noah and a few others showing respect, the others are acting like this is a celebration.

Their VP doesn’t talk to us, or more importantly to Cas and the disrespect is open and direct. Noah wasn’t wrong, something is brewing and we aren’t in the know.

“It’s time we left,” Cas growls, standing to his feet.

We all follow suit from the tables we’ve been occupying for the last few hours and follow him outside. None of us speak to the Devil’s Bastards, they show us no respect. We do the same.

Only Noah follows us out and looks like he wants to apologise for his brothers.

“You’re not fuckin’ wrong, Noah. There’s something brewing in your club and it doesn’t feel good to us,” Cas grunts, tying his bandana around his face ready to ride.

“At least I’m not the only one who can see it,” he replies.

“I’ll take into consideration the grief bouncing around but I don’t take kindly to being ignored for the whole day. When you’re next at your table, you better decide where your club’s going because I don’t need you to make money, you need us. Our arrangement has benefited both our clubs and if you want it to stay that way, have words with your brothers.”

The warning has been set and we all know it.

“A meeting has been set for tomorrow, I’ll call once I know what’s going on.”

Noah darts back inside and we climb on our bikes. Once we’re ready, we set off back to Willows Peak in the same formation we have been riding for the last three years and make good time. Nothing feels right at the moment, apart from my family. Tomorrow I marry the love of my life and our daughter will be there to witness it.

Our brothers’ head back to the club, Sparky splitting off towards his place and Ricky follows behind me to Kyla’s place in town.

Sally said she was spending the day with her making last minute preparations for tomorrow. No one in the club know our plans apart from Ricky. This is too personal for me to share it with everyone. I’ve given the club one hundred per cent of me over the years, this is something I need for me alone.

Parking our bikes behind Kyla’s truck in her drive, we both take our helmets and gloves off before we go in.

“When we walk through that door, todays strains with the Devil’s Bastards stay at the door. Sal and Ky don’t need to be worryin’ about shit that don’t concern them. No doubt they’ll be excited about tomorrow and that’s the way I want it to stay,” I warn him, as we cross the lawn.

“No worries, brother. I find with Ky that less is more with her. She worries too much about everything as it is.”

Some women like to know everything or as much as a brother is willing to share, but there are a few that can’t handle it but love their guy regardless but make their lives hell with worrying.

It seems my daughter is stronger than I gave her credit for but on a day to day basis, isn’t strong enough to handle club business.

The front door is locked and I knock twice. I drummed into her to make sure she locks up every time she leaves the house or returns. You can never be too careful and I’m glad she took it in.

The locks click open and in that moment whoever opens the door is the light of my life. I have more than the club here in town now and I can’t get enough of it.

Sally is the one who answers, and Ricky passes us as I push her against the wall to give her my ‘I’m-home’ kiss. I’m getting used to this quickly and from here on out I know I can’t ever come home from being on club business to a room on my own at the clubhouse again.

“Hello to you too,” she giggles, as I force myself to pull away from her lips.

“It makes me fuckin’ happy to be able to kiss you when I get home,” I murmur.

“I’m always going to be here now,” she smiles proudly.

“Damn right you are, woman,” I chuckle, knowing how much she hates me calling her that, “Why don’t we blow this dinner off and go home.”

She looks tempted but she sighs, “We can’t, Kyla’s been busy all afternoon preparing this for us.”

She’s right, it’s like Kyla wants to prove to us she can be the daughter we once had.

“Fine, but eat fast so we can leave.”

Taking her hand, she leads the way into the kitchen and I must admit, dinner smells fantastic. I didn’t know Kyla could cook so I’m hoping Sally helped, a lot.

Ricky’s arms are wrapped around Kyla’s waist as she stirs whatever’s simmering away in the pot and she’s giggling as he plants small kisses on her neck. It’s good to see her happy but this is too much for a father’s eyes to see.

“Why don’t we sit at the table while they finish dishing up,” I growl, grabbing him by the cuff of his cut and pulling him behind me.

“Dad,” Kyla warns, “Please, be nice.”

I’ve been nice, better than nice if I think about it. Now we are settling down and finding our way in our new family routine, I need to define straight away what is acceptable in front of me and what is not.

His grubby hands all over her is not acceptable.

He doesn’t seem to mind and grins over to Kyla. The table is already set and I sit my tired ass down and drink from the bottle of beer already set out.

“How did the funerals go?” Sally asks, placing baskets of fresh garlic bread in the middle of the table.

“How you’d expect it to go, women crying, men drinking, same old,” I say, shovelling a piece of bread into my mouth.