Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Red

Hangman is already in church when I walk in. “You’re fuckin’ late!” he snarls at me as if yesterday never happened.

I ignore him as I park my ass in my usual chair and then roll it back against the wall. There are fewer of us now. Blood and Fender are gone. Where I don’t know. Do I wanna know? Maybe. They’re partly to blame for what happened to Stella and Sorcha.

“Got news. Most you already know. Got the fuckin’ feebs?—”

“Stella and Sorcha are fine, by the way,” I interrupt him. “Thanks for askin’.”

Hangman stabs his finger at me. “Save that bullshit for the shrink.”

I stare at him, then look up at the ceiling. Keep your mouth shut, Red. It’ll be over sooner.

“We got ‘em in the chamber. Gonna visit them after this.” He looks pointedly at me. “You got the biggest stake. You get first run at them.”

Everything I talked about this morning with Stuart starts to fade as a red haze takes over. I think about what those motherfuckers did to Stella and Sorcha. Hurt them, scared them. Gave them nightmares.

“Yup,” I say to Hangman, keeping my voice neutral as I think of everything I’m gonna put those bastards through.

“Rocky, Trigger too. Coyote if he wants.” He looks at Hash. “You too, asshole.”

Rider sighs. “I never get to do anything fun.”

“You got to ride a fuckin’ horse,” Trigger says with a smirk.

Rider gives him the finger.

Mothman locks his hands behind his head. “And Chrissy?”

Hangman’s mask drops for just a second, but it gives me enough time to see his grief, hurt, shame. Then he becomes Hangman again. “Told Fender and Blood they could stay if they took Chrissy for a long walk in the desert and brought back her head.”

That’s even too much for Hash. “Jesus, Hangman.”

Hangman goes on the offensive. “What the fuck would you have done, you useless prick? Let them walk away like nothing happened?”

He’s got a point. Silence descends as we contemplate the fate of our two brothers. “How’d it end?” Coyote asks. He’s got one arm slung over the back of his chair, a hand resting the table, fingers tapping. He’s lookin’ at no one.

Joker shifts. “They declined.”

“And?” Eight says.

Joker looks at Hangman. “We gave them a head start.”

I explode. “Jesus fuckin’ christ! Quit fucking around like pussies and say how it went down.”

Everyone stares at me. I get it. I used to be an easygoing guy, but that’s over. At least for now.

“Fuck off, you pissant,” Hangman snarls.

I’ve had enough of his shit. I start to rise, but Rocky and Trigger clamp down on my shoulders and force me to sit. I probably could throw both of them through the window, but they’re friends and I could only probably.

“Fucking off, you prick. Still waiting for the news.”

“We caught up to them. Blood and Fender left town after I killed Chrissy. Bullet through the head,” Joker says like it’s another day in the workplace.

I shudder. We’re all maniacs, insane. None of us say a word, some look down at the floor. Coyote is visibly upset.

“Why?” I ask. “Why did she turn on us?”

Hangman puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temple. “Accordin’ to her, we fuckin’ failed her. Her kid got killed by a hit and run and we let it go.”

I’m the newest brother. I don’t know the backstory. “Why would you do that?”

“There was a lot of shit goin’ down with the club. All-out war with the Blackbeards.” He pauses. “We let the cops handle it. They got nowhere.”

“Fender and Blood agreed,” Joker says in justification.

“Would have done the same thing if we had a do over,” Hangman says. “We’re a fuckin’ family and we expect loyalty. Sometimes you gotta accept the shit that’s comin’ at you.”

I think of Sorcha and Gabby. King’s kids. Hangman’s. Eight’s. Rocky’s kid on the way. Not that simple no matter what the fuck else is goin’ on. I’m pissed at Hangman and Joker for decidin’ to let it go instead of tracking down the asshole who did it. I’m pissed at Blood and Fender for agreein’. But I keep my mouth shut. There’s already enough things to be pissed about.

“What else?” Joker says to Hangman.

Hangman looks at me. “We vote on Red’s girl. Make her an ol’ lady. She’s earned it.”

Fuck you, Hangman. What I say is, “No.” Flat and forceful.

“Not yet,” Joker says as he makes a note in his book.

“Never. She’s never gonna be an ol’ lady.”

“That ain’t the way it works,” Hangman growls. “She’s gotta be in the fold if you’re gonna be with her.”

He can shove the way it works up his ass. “Too fuckin’ bad.”

Hangman opens his mouth to reply but Joker gets out in front of him. “We’ll table it, Hangman. For later. Maybe just the three of us have a convo.”

Hangman glares at Joker, but says, “What else?”

“Enough for now. The shit with the feds is over, so we can get back to normal business. Do our runs without lookin’ over our shoulders.”

As the meeting breaks up, Hangman stops me. “In my office after you’re done with the cocksuckers in the chamber.”

“Works for me,” I say coldly as I brush by him. I follow Hash, Rocky and Trigger to the shed that conceals the entrance to the chamber.

“You gotta get yourself together,” Rocky says. “Shit goes down, it’s just that way.”

Hash nods. “The ol’ ladies. They know what they’re gettin’ into when they agree to get vested. Sometimes they’re gonna get in the line of fire.”

He’s talkin’ about Peyton and Bryce, his and Coyote’s women, who almost died when they were attacked.

“We also talk about protecting them, but so far we’re doin’ a piss poor job of that.” I wanna say more, but Trigger has rolled the truck out of the shed and lifted the lid to the chamber.”

“Let’s go, big guy. Take your anger out on the pricks who deserve it.”

I climb down the ladder into the chamber.

It’s a den of horrors on a good day. Built of concrete that blocks sound and cell phone signals. A couple of cells down the hall to lock up anyone who makes the mistake of comin’ at us. All the tools a serial killer needs to prolong someone’s life. An incinerator to get rid of the evidence, should we choose to. It’s also wired to blow sky high if we get raided by cops.

The two feebs are chained to a couple of chairs. The short guy, the one who kicked Stella in the stomach has already been worked over. He’s naked, bruises everywhere. A missing ear, and a flap of skin hanging where his cheek used to be. He looks at me with panic and terror.

The other guy is sittin’ across from him, still dressed. Unscathed. The worst kind of torture. Seeing what’s comin’ and helpless to do anything about it.

My eyes pass over them to the wall where various tools hang. To the flame thrower in the corner. I’ve seen it used to burn a guy’s face off.

“Let’s get this done,” Trigger says. Usually, he enjoys takin’ part in what’s goin’ down, but today, his tone is grim.

Rocky’s is less so. “Take your run at them, Red. I’m next in line.”

The rage leaks out of me as I stare at the two fucks. They’re gonna die no matter what happens. I have a bigger stake than having a hand in killing them. I have a woman I love, a sister and daughter. A family. I owe it to them to walk away.

I look at my brothers, one at a time, maybe for the last time. “I’m not interested,” I say as I turn my back.

“What the fuck?” Hash says as I climb out of the concrete hole.

It’s gettin’ colder every day and I smell snow comin’, but the bracing air wakes me up. I’m doin’ the right thing. I’m doin’ this for Stella and Sorcha and Gabby. And me. I gotta do this for me. Because I couldn’t live with myself if one of my girls got killed because of Hell’s Jury.

I’m tired of this club. Tired of the games Hangman plays, like the fucking single chair he has in front of his desk. Like he’s a fuckin’ king who decides whether he throws you to the lions or decides to be merciful.

I take a detour to the boardroom and pick up one of the leather chairs, carry it to Hangman’s office, kick his bullshit chair down the hall and replace it with the new chair.

I know he’s got a gun under his desk and it’s aimed at me. If he doesn’t like the conversation, he’ll make me a corpse. That probably won’t go down well with the brothers but being dead means I’ll never know.

I start the conversation. “You got my mom shot. You got my sister and Stella kidnapped. You could’ve got them killed.”

Hangman doesn’t drop his eyes. “My daughter,” he says like it’s a threat.

“Yeah. Father of the year.”

“She shouldn’t have been there.”

“No shit. But then again, Stella shouldn’t have either.” My heart beats hard in my chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you stop them before they got to the motel?”

Hangman shrugs. “Bad call.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want you near Sorcha. Not now, not ever. You don’t give a fuck anyway. For you, she’s a bartering tool to keep me in my place. Every time I do something you don’t like, you’ll threaten to take her from me.”

Hangman narrows his eyes. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Hangman is Hangman. He doesn’t lie unless it’s convenient. “You’re not,” he says.

“When the custody thing is settled, I’m adoptin’ her and you won’t stand in my way.”

Hangman folds his hands on his desk and leans towards me aggressively. “Tell me why I won’t?”

“You’re not the only fuckin’ psychopath in the club. You try to get to my sister, I’ll hunt you down and break every fuckin’ bone in your body.”

He smirks. I’ve never seen him show fear in the entire time I’ve known him. He thinks he’s invincible. “I’m not gonna go near her but since Stella won’t be in the picture, you’ll have to figure out how to look after the kid. Like it or not, Sorcha’s part of the Jury family and you’ll have to bring her in to protect her. Gabby too.”

I shake my head at him. “You have no fuckin’ idea. You think because I’m not makin’ Stella an ol’ lady, that I’ll leave her. That’s not gonna happen.” I draw a breath and make the announcement. “I’m leavin’ the club.”

Hangman snorts. “You’re not fuckin’ leaving the club. No one walks away from Hell’s Jury.”

“Let’s say I walk away. How’re you gonna stop me?”

“Hate to leave Sorcha brotherless.”

Fuckin’ goddamned sonofabitch asshole. “I’m gonna throw you through the fuckin’ window, you motherfucker. I got a lot to lose here and my association with this fucking club ain’t doin’ me no favors.”

“Your choice to join it,” he says.

“Was it? Or was it yours and my dead mother’s?”

Hangman’s lips flatten. I see regret in his eyes. It’s just a flash, passes fast, but it’s there. “Leave your mother out of this,” he says deadly soft.

“How can I? She’s part of the reason I’m havin’ this conversation. She died because of you. Stella and Sorcha almost died because of you. Hell, you almost died. I’m leavin’ the club today. You and the brothers decide my fate, however you want.”

I stand. So does Hangman. “I’ll put it to a vote. It won’t matter if I want you dead, the brothers are gonna let you go.” He pauses, then says, “You’re no fuckin’ good to Sorcha if you’re dead.”

My temper rises again. “I don’t ever wanna hear you say Sorcha’s name again.”

“I know my fuckin’ shortcomings, Red. You think I don’t, but you’d be wrong. You’ll be the better parent. You and Stella because I’ll never have a fuckin’ woman in my life ever again. Go home. After we vote, one of the brother’s will come by and pick up your cut.” He holds out his hand for my club jacket. I shuck it and toss it on the desk.

“‘Done,” I say as tonelessly as I can.

I see the anger of my betrayal written on his face. “And you stay the fuck away from here. You’re no longer welcome.”

I don’t feel a shred of regret. “Right back at you, Prez. Stay the fuck out of my neighborhood.”

I don’t look back, don’t say goodbye to anyone as I walk out the door. Some of the men in this club are my friends, but they’ll freeze me out. They have to. It’s the rule. And most of them won’t get it. They’ll think I’m a traitor. A pussy. The going gets tough and I turn tail. But I’m not like them. And Stella will never be like the ol’ ladies. We got each other. We got her family. That’s the club I want.