Page 131 of Injustice and Absolution

The silent forty-five-minute drive goes quickly, and before I know it, we’re pulling down the dirt driveway that leads to our compound.

I stop at the main house and hop out. Maggie is already outside, waiting on the porch, drinking a beer. She puts the bottle down and runs to my truck.

“Where is everyone?” I need confirmation that the plan is still on track.

“I’m assuming out there,” she nods to the rear of our property. “No one stopped when they got home. I saw Toga’s truck and Atticus’s Trans Am roll through here about forty-five minutes ago or so. Rocco and Ronin left me to join them,” Maggie explains.

I nod, glad that they all made it here with no issue.

“Is she okay?” she asks, her breath shaky.

“Physically, yes,” I assure her. “She fainted, though. I haven’t had a chance to speak with her yet. But judging by the way she looked right before she went down, I’m going to assume her mental state isn’t the best. We’ll see how she is the next couple of days, but we may need to hire another nurse to come look after her.”

Draven opens the door of the truck, giving me access to Delilah again. I gently pull her from the back seat and cradle her in my arms as I carry her into the house and up into her bedroom.

“Can you please get her changed out of this ridiculous outfit and into something comfortable?” I request, laying her on her new bed.

“Yeah,” Maggie answers.

“Throw all of it in the garbage when you’re done.”

Maggie nods her head in understanding.

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you both.”

“Okay,” Maggie says, a light smile in her voice.

Forcing myself to leave Delilah’s side so soon after getting her back here, I train my brain on the task at hand. When I get back outside, Draven is already sitting shotgun. He’s as ready as I am to deal with that fuckface.

Climbing into the driver’s seat again, I close my door then rev my engine before gunning it toward the building at the rear of our property.

One of the greatest things about living out in the country, especially as far off the beaten path as we are, is that we get to make as much noise as we want.

There’s no one around for miles to complain about our late-night parties...

Our bikes being too loud...

Or about the terrifying, pain-filled screams that echo through the dark night.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

ROYCE

The dilapidated building located at the rear of my property served as a cannery in the early 1900s.

Presently, however, it’s where our enemies go to die. Your death warrant is signed the moment your feet are dragged over the building’s threshold.

I enter tonight with only one thing on my mind.

Mayhem.

In here, I’m The Judge.

This ismycourthouse.

My verdict is law, and your sentence will be delivered by my own hand.

The click of the door as it closes into place sounds like a gunshot, a roaring echo resounding throughout the vast, empty, concrete room surrounding us.

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