Page 59 of Blackout-

“It’s secure, Jack gave it to me earlier when he left me at your house and took Lacey to be with you.”

“Why did he leave you at my house?”

“To throw the cops off in case they came looking for you guys,” she exasperates. “Listen, that’s not important. They arrested him! He was at the hospital with the rest of the guys showing their support for Wolf and Maria, and they arrested them. Anthony Bianci is on his way here to take me down to the precinct, but the lawyer is already down there, and Jack is refusing legal counsel.”

“What are the charges?”

“I don’t even know. Everyone was talking so fast. Something about two counts of murder and guns. I don’t know,” she stammers. “Blackie, he’s off his meds. The fact he’s refusing to speak to a lawyer scares me.”

Beads of sweat start to flare at my temples.

“Listen to me, you need to get in touch with one of the guys,” I say pressing my hand to my forehead. “Linc and Stryker were the last to leave here. Maybe they didn’t go to the hospital.”

“What am I telling them? He’s not going to talk to them.”

“Reina, I fucked up,” I confess, pulling my hand away from my face. “I dropped my gun and I don’t remember anyone picking it up. I don’t know if I blacked out or what, but you need to call one of the guys and send them back to the paper factory to retrieve it before the cops do. If they get their hands on that gun that puts us at the scene. Do you understand me?”

“What if they already have it?”

We’re fucked if they have the gun.

Completely fucked and there’s no one else to blame but me.

“Blackie, are you there?” The desperate way she calls my name snaps me back to reality and instead of playing the martyr, I focus on what I can do to help the mess I’ve caused.

“You said Anthony’s picking you up? Have him call Wolf.” The man’s got an alibi, so they probably didn’t arrest him and if they did, they have to let him go. If anyone knows what to do, it’s him. He might not have his patch or want much to do with the club these days, but brotherhood is embedded in his soul and he won’t let this ship sink.

“What’s he going to do? Jack doesn’t know, but I reached out to Wolf a couple of weeks ago. I told him he was losing his mind, and I asked him to intervene.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you come to me?”

“Blackie, you forget that I was the one locked in a basement with you when Jimmy Gold took us. I was the one watching you spiral out of control and I know the signs. I know that you’re struggling with your own burdens.”

An addict always thinks he’s got control of his situation, but the people closest to him will always see through his façade. They will look at him with his plate filled to the top and shake their head because they know it’s only a matter of time before he drops it.

“Anthony’s here,” she says. “I have to go. Look, I’ll tell Wolf about the gun.”

“Reina, I’m—”

“Sorry,” she interjects. “Yeah, I know, Black.”

Reina disconnects the call and I toss the burner phone across the table. There’s no denying the hostility in her voice. It’s not like it’s not warranted. I’ve disappointed a lot of people in my life and my apologies have become worthless to everyone except Lacey. It’s only a matter of time before she steps in line behind Reina and realizes I’m a fucking lying sack of shit who only serves to break her heart.

If the cops have that gun, I’m finished. That puts me and my club at the scene and no one is going down for my negligence. Aside from my prints being all over the piece, a forensic report will conclude the bullets that killed those Mexicans came from my gun. They’ll try me on two counts of murder and I’ll never see the light of day. I can fight it. I can hire a whole fucking team of lawyers, but the odds aren’t in my favor.

They never are.

“Blackie?”

Lacey’s voice drags me away from my head and I turn to see her standing in the bedroom doorway looking all kinds of beautiful and so out of my reach.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Pain.

We define it as physical suffering. We measure it on a scale from one to ten, ten being the most excruciating. But the pain I’m feeling, that physical suffering that’s tearing through my heart, it can’t be measured.

“I’m fine,” I lie, my throat clogged with emotion.

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