Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 118333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Tank met my eyes. He knew me better than anyone here. Only Adelita knew me more. He had to see that even after everything, pathetically, I was still worried for my kid brother. Tank lost some of his anger. “I didn’t see him in the fight at all. Then again, I didn’t see much apart from my knives stabbing necks and my bullets shredding through hearts.” I relaxed. But that meant shit. That battle was a mindfuck of blood and flesh. “Took out some of our old brothers,” Tank said.
“And how did it feel?”
Tank smiled. “Good, brother. Real fucking good.”
I tipped my head back and ran my hands down my face. It was a shitshow. All of it. I had no idea if Beau had survived. If Landry had either. But I knew Diego had. Of course that slippery fucker had. I tried to think what his next move would be. But my head was filled with Slash’s face as he hit the ground and Adelita’s cries in bed as she blamed herself.
“Fucking Lil Ash,” Tank said, voice shocked. I looked around the bar. There was no sign of Flame, Ash, Zane, or Vike.
“He snapped,” I said, and Tank blew out a slow breath in agreement.
“That kid . . . in that moment, he was Flame.”
I thought back to Ash grabbing guns and starting the battle. The seventeen-year-old kid raining down bullets on the cartel and Klan like he killed for fun. Tank’s hand came down on my shoulder. “Brace yourself, Tann. I got a feeling this war is just beginning.” Tank got to his feet. “I’m gonna find Beauty.” He paused, then looked me in the eye. “You sure you’re okay? That was heavy shit today. Especially for you.”
“Yeah.”
Tank’s eyes narrowed on me like he could see through my bullshit. But he slapped my back and left the bar. I walked outside. I needed some fucking fresh air. The tents from the visiting chapters took up most of the grounds.
Shutting my eyes, I pulled out a smoke and leaned against the wall as I let the nicotine work its magic. When I was done, I flicked the butt to the ground and went back inside. Shucking off my clothes, I climbed in bed beside Adelita and wrapped my arm around her waist. I was keeping my bitch close.
Adelita had always been full of light. A damn firecracker from the minute I met her. But when Slash fell tonight, I saw that fire in her die out.
I kissed her damp hair and moved my arm around her chest. And I fucking held on all night while she slept. I replayed today in my head like a damn record stuck on repeat . . . Beau, Landry, Diego, Slash . . . everything.
It was all going to shit.
Chapter Twelve
Adelita
I thought it fitting that the rain fell hard on our heads. My body was numb as I stared at the coffin. It was closed, the wound too severe on the prospect’s head to have an open casket.
My skin shivered, but it had nothing to do with the rain. I trembled as the casket was lowered into the ground by Hangmen. My eyes fixed on Slash’s cousin. Smiler’s face was racked with pain so severe that I felt it crack my heart. I looked around the people here. At the men who had lost a brother. A man cut down in his prime. I looked at the women, and the sadness that illuminated their faces.
And I looked to the other two prospects. The remaining two boys who Diego had taken. The younger of the two appeared haunted as his friend was laid to rest—coins on his eyes as per Hangmen tradition. But it was Asher that I focused on. His face wasn’t sad like everyone else’s. It was furious, his dark eyes savage in their glare. His body was so tightly tensed he looked like he was going to snap at any moment. His black hair stuck to his face as the rain sluiced down and drenched him. But his eyes never moved from the coffin, like if he stared hard enough, he could resurrect his friend.
My stomach fell. Because he never would. He would never have his best friend back. And he would probably forever blame himself for Slash pushing him out of the way. When it was my fault. It was all my fault. Diego killed that young man because of me.
All this pain . . . all this violence and death was my fault.
Tanner’s hand sought out mine, giving it a brief squeeze before he let go. I couldn’t look at him as the men lowering Slash into the ground stepped back from the grave. Every one of the Hangmen took out their guns.
As Smiler started shoveling the dirt over the coffin, Styx fired a single shot into the air, the sound causing the birds to scatter from the surrounding trees. Like a rehearsed dance, the rest of the Hangmen fired numerous shots into the air. But Asher still didn’t move. His midnight eyes stayed fixed on the quickly covered coffin, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists at his side. I tore my eyes away, unable to witness such pain and rage, only to find Saffie flickering covert, worried glances toward Asher. She stood under her mother’s umbrella, holding onto Phebe as always. It was like Saffie couldn’t stand without her mother’s help. But her eyes kept drifting to Asher. He never once noticed her looking. And I thought it was a shame. Asher clearly needed someone to comfort him right now. And Saffie looked like she might be willing to offer it.