Page 65 of Riot

Mancini. I’d forgotten his name.

I blink, the adrenaline spiking through my veins. “Maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Someone’s been takin’ them out, one by one, and it ain’t the Russians. Some are sayin’ the Bratva could be next.”

“How’d you hear this?”

“I got friends in low places, reliable low places and when I heard, it started addin’ up that this could be some payback shit. The Mancinis were terrorists on the streets for years until you took their leader out, it gave the Russians access to eradicate the rest of them.”

“So, that’s a bad thing?”

“It is when anyone who went against the Mancinis is showin’ up dead.”

Nobody else knows about who I assassinated, but I told Cash. Not even Charles knows. I wanted to keep as many people safe as I could, that way, worst case scenario nobody knows shit if you’re a ghost. Cash can be a persistent asshole when he wants to be, and part of my initiation into the club was telling him about the worst things that I’d done in my life. He knows what happened to my family, and he’s always been gracious about it. When I went inside and shared a cell with Priest, I vowed I was never going back inside again. Sure, my sentence was for some petty shit that caught up with me, but if the authorities knew what I’d really done, they’d be giving me a lethal injection. That’s not to say those assholes didn’t deserve it. Taking out men who took from the poor to make themselves richer, or underworld figures who excelled in mastering slavery and child labor, aren’t things I’m gonna lose sleep over. They deserve to be six feet under.

“This is serious,” Cash barks. “Six dead in Chicago, they’re callin’ it a payback killin’ spree.”

“Wait, who did you shoot?” Nevada scratches his chin.

“Someone well known, let’s just put it at that,” I mutter. I look back at Cash. “That shit can’t get linked back to me, I made sure of it.”

“That’s good, because I don’t want shit turnin’ up on my doorstep.”

It’s always been a fear of mine that one day Cash might kick me out. Deep down, I know he never would, but this is the only brotherhood I’ve ever known.

“It won’t. I made sure I covered all my tracks. The only man who knew who I was died years ago in a car crash.”

All eyes are on me. There’s been one drama after another in the club with outside influences these past few years. Until Nevada and me went to Mississippi, we’d had six months of bliss. No revenge attacks. No mafia to kill. No one getting kidnapped or tortured or shot. I get that all of us want peace and to go back to doing what we do best; being a club.

“Seems kinda uncanny he’d die in a crash,” Ryder says. “Sure he wasn’t taken out?”

I shrug. “I’ve no clue. Like I said, I got outta the game years ago. Made enough money to live off, then joined the MC. Until Mississippi, I haven’t had my rifle out in years.”

“How’d it feel?” Priest lifts his chin. “To hold a rifle again.”

“Exhilaratin’.” I grin. “But I also remembered all the reasons why I stopped. The carnage that night was crazy.”

“It got outta hand fast,” Cash says. “If I’d thought for one second that it was gonna be that bad, the whole club would’ve been there.”

Cash sent reinforcements in the way of Harlem and Tag, and we also had the help of Bane and his men from the Ridgehaven Hellions. It was all under control.

“I know that,” I assure him. “I’m gonna need to take a look further into the men that were killed in Chicago, see if any of them look familiar.”

Cash nods. “You do that. Rock’s workin’ on it now, he’s gonna email you the file.”

“Okay.” I really don’t know why he’s looking so worried. Nothing is gonna come back to haunt me. “But we’ve nothin’ to worry about here. If there was a slight chance that this was gonna go south, I’d be fuckin’ speakin’ up. Puttin’ this club at risk isn’t what any of us want, Prez.”

“Glad to hear it. The assholes who were taken out all had links to Mancini, that’s why it found its way on my radar,” Cash explains. That makes sense. “I want you to look at the files and make sure that you didn’t know any of the men. If you do, we need to take this a little more seriously.”

“So in the meantime?” Bronco looks from me to Cash. “We just sit tight?”

“No point jumpin’ the gun,” Ryder says. “But it’s best to be aware of the situation. We don’t want or need any more fuckin’ mishaps or paybacks anytime soon.”

“Amen to that,” Priest mutters.

“I’m on it.” It’ll be some light reading while I get back to Halo and Cookie.

“Need you at the Vault this weekend,” Cash tells me.

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