Page 90 of Soulless Saint

“There has to be something we can use,” Kaleb interjected. “We just haven’t found it yet. What about the rest of The Warden’s men? Maybe they’ll talk.”

“To the gang leader who killed their head honcho?” Dad lobbied back, raising a skeptical brow. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Then we don’t give them a choice,” I said plainly, giving Kaleb a nod. He was on to something. The only person we knew for certain had actually had any facetime with these new players was The Warden. And if the Sons had wanted to make a spectacle, which clearly they fucking did, they’d have made sure every one of The Warden’s men was there to see their warning. Their brutality. They’d want a full and rapt audience while they killed The Warden’s nephew.

Dad’s brows furrowed, but I saw the moment he realized what I was proposing. Not our usual mode of operation but desperate times…

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze darkening, a shadow passing over his eyes as he bowed his head, coming to terms with the only viable option he’d had placed in front of him since the Sons invaded our turf. “I’ll get Arch and Zade on it.”

“Let us—”

“No,” Dad interrupted. “I need you here with your ears to the ground and your eyes fixed to Rebecca Matthews.”

“Hart,” Kaleb corrected him, shaking his head. “I’m guessing inviting her for Friday night dinner is a no go now?”

Relief flooded my veins.

But our Dad looked at Kaleb like he wanted to push his head through a wall. “Are you shitting me?”

I cocked my head at him.

“You put that girl even more at risk than she already was. You made her a goddamned accessory to murder tonight. I don’t even like the idea of her locked up tight in her apartment right now without a set of Saint eyes to watch over her. Since you’ve both proven you can’t follow orders where she’s concerned, she needs to be brought into the fold, if only temporarily. Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped at the pair of us.

“Dad—”

“Shut it, Kaleb. If you two knuckleheads had just listened to me, this wouldn’t be happening. She’ll come to dinner and that’s it. I don’t care what you need to do to get her there, just get it done.”

He polished off his scotch and got up from his stool. “Now come on, I need a ride back to my damn car.”

* * *

We followed Dad back to the house just in case, but when we got there, I didn’t like the idea of leaving, heading back to Santa Clarita.

Our smaller SC crew, mostly initiates from Kilborn, were all at the ready. They’d patrol the area around our house and Becca’s apartment at all hours if we just gave the word, but…

After seeing what they did to Jimmy Boy, I wanted to see Ma with my own eyes. Make sure she and the others were still whole. Besides, it was already dawn and we needed to figure out our next move. No fucking point in going home just to come back here or to the shop for a meet in a couple hours.

“Thought you were headed back to yours,” Dad hollered, getting out of his truck as we parked behind him.

“We’ll stay,” I replied. “We need to fill Zade and Arch in on what happened. Send them out to Stockton to see The Warden’s crew.”

Our Dad nodded gravely.

“What the fuck is that?”

Kaleb pointed at something at the edge of the flagstone footpath that curved up to the front door. It looked like a weird ass tiki torch. I squinted into the bright dawn light and felt my blood chill in my veins.

“Is that…” Kaleb trailed off, and I had my gun up, the safety off, finger next to the trigger before he could finish his question because I already had my answer.

It was Jimmy Boy. Well, his head. On a fucking spike. On our fucking lawn.

“Ma!” Kaleb shouted, and I’d never moved so fast in my life. I was up the path, ready to put a Hardin shaped hole in the front door when I saw what was tagged to it.

I was too far gone to read the words written in blood on the single sheet of white paper pinned to the door with a blade.

“Ma,” I bellowed into the house as the door flew open with one swift kick of my boot. I swept the front entry, moving swiftly farther into the house. Blood pumped noisily in my ears, and my eyes burned hot.

“Sloane!” Dad roared behind me, and I all but raced forward, not properly sweeping the area anymore as I pushed deeper into the house.

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