Vice and Void (The Savage Wolves Brotherhood #1)

43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Callum

“You’ve got some fucking balls coming here,” Callum said not two minutes after Dakota trundled down the wet road. Red heaved a leg over the seat of his motorcycle, adjusting his belt and leather cut as he stood.

Simplicity. That's all he fucking wanted. Five minutes of Ace, Rocco, and him speeding through the backroads on their bikes. Five minutes of Tex and Joanna laughing at the kitchen table over shots of whiskey. Five minutes with Dakota, skipping rocks under the park's bridge as they did as teenagers. It would never be that simple again.

Red shook his head. “Ace is still my son, Callum, and—“

“The reason that Ace is in this shit is because of you.” Callum crossed his arms over his chest, blocking Red from the cub's entrance. Gooseflesh broke out over his skin when droplets of cold rain began to fall, but he'd endured worse. “He’s coming down. He’s half in the bag still.”

“What did you expect me to do? Tell him that the very men he grew up with, who he trusted implicitly, tried to kill me…and then killed his twin sister instead?”

“Yeah, actually,” Callum retorted as though it were the most obvious fucking answer. Because it was. “That’s exactly what I would have expected. Instead, you sent him on a years-long chase that ended in him killing an innocent man.”

“You don’t have kids, Callum, you wouldn’t understand—“

It was a stark reminder of what he had lost. Of everything Dakota had gone through. Red’s words burned like injected acid trickling through his veins.

“I know enough to realize that I wouldn’t put my fucking kid through what you did.”

Red had the fortitude to look reasonably ashamed, though it didn’t do anything to stifle the forest fire of rage that threatened to burn Callum alive. He tried to imagine Dakota standing next to him, her hand on his forearm, her fingers gently squeezing his wrist. Instead, black clouded his periphery.

“How is he?” Red asked. That was the wrong fucking question.

Callum inhaled through his nose; his jaw clenched tightly as he watched his father’s best friend wither beneath his stare. Formidable Red. Unshakeable Red. Dishonest Red. Deceitful Red. “He tried to shoot himself in the head. Nicked his ear pretty good. The shot lodged in the ceiling.”

Red’s exhale was brittle and heartbroken. “You gotta let me see him. That’s my son, my only boy—“

“And Raven was your daughter, your girl. Yet you threw her away like fucking trash. Then you watched as your wife left with Sierra, and Ace spiraled into an addiction so bad that he may never recover. You’ve got a terrible fucking way of showing it.”

The rain was picking up now, fat droplets plunking on the pavement. More leaves fell from the surrounding trees, dropping to the ground in thick clumps.

“I made some mistakes—“

“Mistakes?” Callum scoffed. “Red, a mistake is picking up the wrong kind of milk. Not covering up the murder of your fucking daughter.” He shook his head. “Raven was a sister to me. So give me a better explanation than you made a mistake .”

Red pressed his lips into a tight line, and his gaze dipped to the ground.

Callum let out a huff of laughter, mist unfurling in front of his lips. He ran a hand through his hair, the rain slicking back his dark locks. Before he realized what he was doing, before he had thought to stop himself, he slid the Savage Wolves Brotherhood ring from his forefinger, grabbed Red’s hand, and dropped it into his palm.

Red stared down at it for a long minute as though the sight of it was foreign. His gaze finally lifted, his lips parted, and his brow raised. “What is this?”

“I’m gonna see Ace through this. But after that, I’m done with the Brotherhood.”

Red’s head reeled back. “The Brotherhood is your birthright, Callum. What about your father? Your brother?”

“The lying and the secrets from my father got us into this in the first place. You and I both fucking know the Brotherhood wasn’t meant to be what it is. ”

“I gave you that journal so you could be the one to change it.” Red’s tone shifted from surprise to anger, his growling voice raised above the steady stream of rain. “So you could bring us back to what the Brotherhood was meant to be.”

Callum let his hands splay at his sides. “I didn’t fucking choose this! I didn’t get a choice at all!” He stepped to the side, allowing Red access to the clubhouse’s front door. “But I do have a choice now. And it won’t be the Brotherhood.”

“You know too much,” Red warned as he wrapped his fist around the ring. “Duke, Maverick…those boys aren’t going to let you walk away. You would be putting yourself in danger—your woman in danger—“

“I’d like to see them try,” Callum chuckled.

Red’s gaze softened, his anger ebbing into sorrow that managed to grip Callum’s heart and squeeze. “You would never see it coming. You think I saw it coming with Raven? You think that feud was over something recent?” He shook his head. “They’ll hit you when you least expect it. When you’re happy, when you’re dropping your kids off at school, when Dakota is driving down the fucking street. Be smart about this, Callum.”

A set of motorcycles growled from opposite ends of the street. Rocco pulled in first, his sleek black bike flecked with mud and rainwater. He parked beside Callum’s before tugging his helmet off and letting it rest on his knee. Maverick was second, and he parked his next to Duke’s. A clearly drawn line in the sand for where everyone stood. Callum wanted nothing more than to draw his gun on Maverick and pull the trigger now that he knew about Raven’s death. Smart. He had to be smart about this.

“Did you pass by Dakota?” Callum asked as Rocco swung a leg over the seat of his motorcycle, tucking his helmet under his arm.

“I didn’t see her on the road.” The wet mixture of leaves and broken pavement crunched beneath his riding boots. “I just came to see if Kane’ll let me grab his truck. Lyra’s getting discharged from the Guildhall tonight. Thought I would take her to her parent’s place so she can get some rest.”

“Keys are inside,” Callum replied, tilting his head toward the door. “Kane won’t need them tonight. Duke put him on Ace duty.”

Rocco nodded, though his eyes flicked between Red and Callum as Maverick cut off his bike’s engine. “Everything okay over here?”

“Never better.” Not with Maverick there . Rocco seemed to understand. “Anything on the Vipers?” Callum called to Maverick as his hand braced on the door’s handle.

Maverick let his hand fall to his side as he unhappily turned to walk back toward the three. “Tons of in-fighting. Finn and his goons have been tossed to the side. Seems no one can decide what should come next—coming after us or begging Vanguard for another shot.”

“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to start a turf war,” Rocco said. “You think?” He looked at Callum, squinting against the rain.

“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to beg Vanguard for another shot either. Alexei won’t put up with that shit.” Callum sighed, dragging his hand down his face. His finger felt empty without the ring, now shoved in Red’s front pocket. He could see its outline against the thin, wet leather. “Finn was dangerous with the Viper’s backing. He’ll be lethal without it.”

Maverick snorted, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You think Finn is worse without the Vipers? He’s just one guy.”

“The Vipers kept him in check. Without them…” Callum trailed off as he blew out a breath, watching the mist gather in front of his lips again. It reminded him of a cigarette. Gods, he could use a cigarette. “We should get guys to stand guard outside the clubhouse until we figure out what they’re gonna do.”

Maverick went to reply, but the front door opened with a squeak. Callum’s eyes slid to Duke, who was busy tucking something inside his leather jacket.

“Didn’t want to take this inside?” Duke drawled as he edged toward the group, his walk more like a saunter. “You girls like the rain or something?”

“Didn’t get the chance to,” Rocco said.

Duke clapped a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. “I gotta chat with you about something. Hang back for a few minutes.”

“I thought you had to chat with me about something,” Callum said, his tone lifeless and unimpressed.

“Change of plan now that Maverick’s here. Head inside. I’ll be in.”

He wanted to get whatever Duke needed over with so he could finish what he and Dakota started. Rocco turned toward the front door, yanking on the handle to tug it open. When Red stepped forward, Callum glared with such intensity that Red stalled in place. Not even the sob story would work this time.

“Come on, Callum. He’s my son—“

“And right now, I’m still Vice,” Callum retorted. He stepped in front of Red to follow Rocco into the narrow hallway. “And you’ll see Ace when I say you can see Ace.” If looks could kill, Callum would have been dead on the ground. “I’ll keep you in the loop. Just give him some time to come around.”

Red scowled at him for another long minute before he finally relented. He spun on the toes of his boots and marched toward his bike without saying a single word, and the growl of his motorcycle cut through the harsh whispers coming from Duke and Maverick. Callum didn’t bother to listen. He didn’t give a shit anymore.

The stale air was an unwelcome greeting when Callum reentered the clubhouse, and an unexpected shiver worked its way up his spine from the rain droplets dripping down the back of his soaked shirt.

“I thought you said your brother was on Ace duty,” Rocco said, scoping the coffee table for the truck's keys. “I’m surprised he isn’t out here watching Romantic Roulette or some shit.”

Callum chuckled. “He was earlier. I had him go in the back rooms to check on Ace.”

“You think that’s where his keys are, too?”

“Worth a try.”

Rocco split toward the narrow hallway, his wet sneakers squelching against the old carpet. Callum barely flicked the television on, grimacing at Kane’s choice of reality show when Rocco’s stern voice echoed to him.

“Callum.”

He straightened at Rocco’s tone, and something about it made the hair on the nape of his neck prickle to life. The remote fell from his hand, bounced against the couch cushion, and clattered to the floor. He rounded the couch, glancing into each spare bedroom until he found Rocco and Kane in the one directly across from where Ace was laid out.

Rocco knelt on the floor with Kane propped against the side of the bed. Blood trickled from an open gash near Kane’s hairline, a bruise darkening beneath his skin. A second bruise was forming under his eye, a streak of purple and black already visible. Rocco’s hands were on Kane’s shoulders, and water dripped to soak the carpet with every jarring shake.

Callum spun toward Ace’s bedroom, half-expecting his best friend to be missing. But Ace was there: his back turned to the door, his shoulders rising with every soft snore. Once Callum accounted for Ace, he returned to Kane.

“What the fuck, man?” Rocco said as Kane blearily opened his eyes.

Kane blinked, wincing as he lifted a hand to prod the swelling on his forehead. He blinked again, and this time, the fog cleared from his gaze as he jerked his head up to look at Callum. He barely contained his flinch .

“Where is Dakota?”

Callum and Rocco exchanged looks. “Dakota left ten minutes ago,” Callum replied as he dropped to his haunches. “She didn’t do this to you if you’re having a moment of confusion.”

“And if she did, we should hire her to guard Ace,” Rocco joked. Callum smirked.

“Don’t be stupid,” Kane said, glaring at them. He tried to stand, but the pain in his head must have been too great because his face paled, and he settled back in place against the bed. “Duke. He came here waving around that journal Dakota always has with her.”

Callum stilled, and he felt Rocco’s stare boring into his cheek. “What?”

“He kept opening it. Wanted me to explain some formula he found in there. Callum, was that—”

Callum didn’t let him finish. He stood, his heart pounding so hard that he thought it would fly out of his chest. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, quickly dialing Dakota’s number before holding it to his ear. It rang twice before going to voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He sent a text, no answer.

“Rocco, go to the Guildhall and get Lyra. Call me immediately to tell me if Dakota is there or not.”

“On it.”

Kane opened his mouth to say something, but Callum ran. He wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to Dakota. Not after today. Not because of that stupid fucking distill that she created. He hoped beyond hope that Kane was wrong. That he just fell out of bed and smacked his head on the end table.

But when Callum threw open the front door, letting in a blast of cold air that swept away the dusty, stale scent, both Duke and Maverick were already gone.