Murphy pulls Thumbs to his feet.
His wild eyes search our faces as my brothers and I close in on him. “I don’t want to die.”
As if he has a choice. “You should’ve thought about that before you went after my family.”
“We didn’t have a choice!” Whitey yells. “Merlin couldn’t be reached any other way.”
“You always have a choice,” Rock says. “You chose the cowardly one.”
“Don’t kill me.” Thumbs squeezes his eyes shut. “Please, don’t kill me.”
“Did Carter beg you not to hurt him?” I ask in a calm voice.
Despite the situation or maybe because he’s trying to get me to kill him quicker, Thumbs smirks. “He cried like a little pussy.”
“Yeah?” I dig the tip of my gun into his chin. “Did that make you feel like a big man?”
“No…no,” he stammers.
To my right, there’s movement. We’re all so focused on Whitey and Thumbs that Sticks has managed to belly crawl a few feet away. He lurches to his feet and takes off running for the woods.
“Get him,” Rock growls.
“He ain’t going anywhere.” Z throws his arms wide. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“The road’s not that far away.” Dex starts running after the guy.
“Good point.” Z sprints after Dex.
Rooster presses his hand to his side. Blood oozes between his fingers. The corner of his lip curls as if he’s fighting off a wave of pain. “I got tarps in the back of my truck. Some ratchet straps,” he offers. “We’ll roll ’em up like carpets.”
Jiggy cackles and rubs his hands together. “I’ll get ’em.” He slaps Rooster on the back. “Stay put.”
Rooster nods and closes his eyes briefly, swaying on his feet.
“Bro, you don’t need to stick around for this.” I tap Rooster’s shoulder. “You’ve done enough tonight.” More than I have a right to ask him to do. I jerk my head toward my truck. “Watch Carter and June for me? I don’t want them seeing this.”
“You got it.” Rooster slaps my arm and heads for his truck, stopping to talk to Jigsaw for a minute. Rooster ends up pulling his truck next to mine, blocking off Carter and June’s line of sight.
“Carter should see the risks you’re taking to cover his ass,” Merlin says.
“No,” I answer in a flat tone. “He shouldn’t.”
“It’s not his ass we’re covering, is it?” Rock asks in a deadly tone.
“I’m just saying, the boy needs to man up,” Merlin insists.
I blow out a quick, annoyed breath. “Takes all kinds of men to make the world spin, Merlin. Carter’s fine how he is.” Carter’s the kind of man who spent months painstakingly painting murals of unicorns and mermaids all over my niece’s bedroom walls. Something that brings her joy every day. Right about now, it seems a hell of a lot more “manly” than anything Merlin’s accomplished in his whole pathetic life. And more useful than executing people in a desolate field in the middle of the night.
Merlin grunts but keeps his mouth mercifully shut.
Z and Dex drag Sticks back to our party by the arms. Whatever methods they used to subdue him, he’s now quiet.
“Wait.” Jigsaw steps in front of Sticks. “Did you rat out your club?”
“He did what needed to be done for our club,” Whitey says. “Ain’t your business.”
Merlin kicks Whitey in the chin, the crack of his teeth banging together loud enough to make my teeth ache. “No one’s talkin’ to you.”
“You couldn’t take over the club by honest means?” Rock asks. “Or handle it internally? You thought handing over half your club to the Feds was the best way to protect your club?”
“Fuck you.”
Nothing worse than a fucking rat. The whole point of outlaw life is living outside the law. Running to law enforcement to solve your internal club matters is as low as it gets.
I meet Rock’s eyes.
A long time ago, we’d buried our own club’s president for the good of the whole club. We could’ve easily offered Ruger up to the Feds. Instead, one day he just disappeared. Rock set the president’s ring on the table, silently letting everyone know Ruger wouldn’t be returning. We voted him in as our president. The ones who didn’t like it, left. Sway’s method of protest was to form the Downstate New York charter. And as much friction as the two charters had over the years, we didn’t go to the cops to sort it out.
Rock nods once, as if he’s also thinking of our past deeds.
People outside our brotherhood who don’t follow our code would never understand. But we don’t need them to.
We are our brother’s keeper.
And no one else’s.
“Look.” Whitey holds up his hands but with the bullet in his leg, can’t quite sit up. “You still need to make things right with my daughter,” he says to Merlin. Then he glances at Rock. “We’ll stick to our side of the border. We won’t say a word. You won’t have to worry about us again.”
“You think you’re in a position to bargain?” Rock asks, disbelief dripping from his words. “The time to stay out of New York was two years ago.”
Whitey ignores him and focuses on Merlin again. Not sure why, Merlin isn’t in a forgiving mood either. “We’re gonna be—”
Merlin raises his gun and without another word, shoots Whitey in the head. Bone, blood, and lumps of brain explode onto the ground. Whitey slumps over.
Thumbs screams and stares at his dead president.
Sticks doesn’t look at his father. He squirms and tries to break free again.
Next.
I approach Thumbs.
“Don’t kill me,” he pleads. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Unfortunately for you, my ol’ lady made me promise to kill whoever took her brother. And cut off his toe. Not a smart move sending her that package.”
“Here.” Z tosses a tarp at me. “Let’s at least try to minimize the DNA splatter.”
I drape the material over the guy’s head, making him look like a kid dressed up for the darkest Halloween of his life.
“No!” he shouts, fighting to pull off the sheet.
But it’s too late for him.
“I always keep my promises.”
I squeeze the trigger.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Teller
Margot’s waiting for us in the parking lot of the funeral home. I’m not sure what her father told her about my phone call. But she’s dressed in all black, even has her hair tucked up under a black knit cap—like she’s planning to rob a bank with us.
“She’s fucking adorable,” Jiggy mutters.
“A little murder get your libido up?” Dex asks.
“It’s always up.” Jiggy grins.
“For fuck’s sake,” Rock mutters. “We’re not done yet. Focus.”
I stop Z from opening the tailgate of my truck. “The less she sees the better.”