Prologue
Too Many Years Ago…
He sat on his knees in the dirt as they lowered the coffin into the ground and we all stood around him, protecting his back, shielding him from prying eyes. He was crying silently like his heart was being shredded, but I knew what he was feeling was far, far worse. We were all heart broken, but his life had just been lowered six feet into the ground and guilt was eating him alive. It was eating us all alive. We had failed her. We had failed them.
When the sky opened up and rain poured down, it seemed fitting. It should rain when all the light in our lives was being buried beneath the dirt. I let a tear fall, hidden by the rain. I had to be stoic; I had to present a strong front, despite the fact that I wanted to be in the dirt mourning her too.
People were drifting off, helped along by a few of our members, so the Pres could have some privacy. Two men stood off to the side, waiting to shift dirt back into the hole, sealing them away forever. We had insisted at gunpoint that they be buried together; Laura and the baby. She’d want them together, the little one forever cradled in her arms. We didn’t care what the laws had said, what the undertaker had said, what anyone said. We were all wild in our grief, and anyone who stood in our way would have died too.
It rained even harder, the water rolling off my leather cut but soaking everything else. The dirt was turning to slush around our feet and the other two guys standing beside me, behind our President, sent me a look. It was time to go.
I knelt in the dirt next to him, putting my hand on his back. “We should go,” I said in a low voice, not sure he’d hear me over his grief. “We have to go.” I wanted to hug him, but I knew he wouldn’t appreciate the gesture right now. I picked up a rose that was lying on the ground, and handed it to him. It was muddy and dirty now, but that seemed right too. Nothing we ever touched remained pure, not a flower, and not her. We were a plague on those around us, and no one was exempt, not even the most innocent. Someone handed down one of the red roses as well. I tucked it in his hand beside the white one and tried not to think about how much it looked like blood.
I got to my feet, uncaring that the knees of my black jeans were now caked in mud, and I pulled the Pres up with me. He stood on his feet, feeling insubstantial despite the fact he was two-hundred pounds of solid muscle. It was like all the life had leached out of him, leaving him just an empty shell.
His body shuddered, and he threw the two roses into the grave. One for his wife. One for his infant son who would never see his first birthday. A son who’d been killed by the sins of his father. Betrayed by his own blood.
I nodded to the grave diggers as they began to shovel dirt back into the grave. I grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Normally, I would have had a black eye for trying to drag him anywhere, and it worried me that he would never be the same President we had even a week ago.
However, if there was something that solidified the four of us, it was the need for revenge. We had all loved Laura. The need to avenge her death burned through my veins like acid.
When we turned, a man was standing behind us, and my gun was out and pointing at him in an instant. He didn’t freak at having the barrel of my Desert Eagle in his face though. He didn’t even look at me, he just stared at the Pres.
My Brothers had their guns out as well, searching the empty cemetery for an ambush. But there was no one else left. Just the grave diggers and this guy. He was dressed in black jeans and a t-shirt, completely out of place at a funeral. My heart was thumping like he had just pulled out an Uzi and my brain was screaming for me to run, but the man was just standing there, both hands in his pockets. He didn’t have a gun, or any weapon that I could see.
“I know what it’s like to have your love torn away from you,” the man said in a smooth voice that sent chills down my spine. Who was this fucker?
The Pres just seemed numb. His hand hadn’t even gone for his gun. It was like he was kind of hoping this dude was here to shoot him in the head.
I could understand the feeling.
“You wish for revenge? The most brutal kind of revenge. You want her pain and suffering to be avenged sevenfold?”
The Pres finally snapped out of it. He nodded slowly. We all wanted that, the entire Club. But especially the four of us.
The man in the t-shirt nodded. “I can give you that. I can give you the ability to exact revenge on all your enemies until they are buried so deep that no-one will find them. And I will promise you that death will provide no relief for those you mark. You will be strong enough that they will all fear you and none will ever come for what you consider yours again.”
Fire lit in the President’s eyes, the first sign of life in them in days. Anger. I would take that over the god-awful blankness any day.
“In return, you become mine for eternity. All four of you.”
“What?” One of my Brothers whispered behind me.
The man didn’t take his eyes off the President, and I didn’t take my eyes off him. “I will give you power, money, whatever else it is that you desire. But more importantly, I will give you what you want most; the strength to never fail anyone again. Any of you.”
“And you get what?” I asked, wanting what he was offering despite my gut churning. I wanted to be able to protect my Brothers-In-Arms. I wanted to be able to protect the Club Family. That was my job and so far, I had failed.
The man shrugged. “I get your souls.” A chill swept through the air at his words. “You’ll ride for me when I need you, but I can’t see that happening in the near future. I have a lot to do before then.”
“Yes,” the Pres whispered.
“Yes,” both of my Brothers behind me murmured into the fading light of the worst day of our lives.
Finally, the man looked at me, the depths of his gaze chilling me to my bones. But still I nodded. “Yes.”
The man smiled. “Good. From today, you will no longer be who you were. You will no longer be the Punishers MC. You will no longer have your own names. You will be the beginning of the Damnation MC.” I was mesmerized; I couldn’t look away from him if I tried. My gun fell to the dirt as my hands went limp at my sides.
He reached past me so quickly I couldn’t see his hands, placing his fingers on the chest of our Sergeant-In-Arms. “Goliath.”
My Brother dropped to the ground like his bones were liquified, and I jumped away. My eyes whipped between them.
“Solomon.” He did the same to the Captain, who went down in a heap. My eyes searched for signs of life and I let out the breath that had been caught in my throat when I saw their chests rise and fall.
He looked at me, and I stepped away. He didn’t pursue me. I had a feeling I had to come into this willingly. “They aren’t hurt. The swell of power just takes a while to settle into human bodies. Come forward, my Horseman.” I stepped forward even though my feet tried to carry me away. He placed a hand on my chest. “Cain.”
Something rolled through my body like a freight train, dropping me to my knees and then onto my back. I tried to stand, but it was like my body was paralyzed.
He stopped in front of the Pres, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I needed to protect us.
“Judas. That is your name now. Own it. Revel in it. You will never feel weak again.” Then the Pres was on the ground beside us, but awake like me. “Your sacrifice needs to be greater, Judas. It is always hardest being the leader.” He leaned forward and pressed his thumb into the President’s eye socket, popping out his eyeball like a grape. The Pres screamed and I roared as I struggled on the ground like a dying fish. The man waved a hand, and the Pres passed out.