Page 108 of Petty's Crime

“Saul egged me on. Talk to Saul.” He sounds sly and only a stupid person would be fooled.

“Oh, Saul won’t be talking to anyone,” Red informs him.

Thorne stills, and looks at the Satan’s Devils’ prez’ face. “What do you mean?” He doesn’t sound quite so sure of himself.

Red says nothing.

Thorne’s starts to cotton on, and as he does, he begins to tremble. “You killed him?”

Again Red stays quiet so as not to incriminate himself, but Thorne reads the truth in his silence.

“Nooooo!” he wails. “Not Saul. No.” He looks at me with a twisted expression on his face, part sadness and part fury. Then he launches himself forward, the chair he’s attached to coming with him, and roars, “It’s all your fuckin’ fault—”

But my dad gets in his way, and Thorne headbutts him instead of me, the sound of the two skulls meeting seeming overloud.

“Dad!” I scream as my father crashes to the floor. He’s passed out, or, was knocked out.

Thorne’s quickly restrained as I drop to my knees. “Dad, wake up,” I implore.

Red drops down beside me. He glances at Petty and demands sharply, “Call for an ambulance.” As Petty doesn’t delay and takes out his phone, Red gives me a look full of sympathy. “I don’t like that grey in his face, RoseLyn. You said he had a weak heart…”

Oh my God. No.

“Daddy,” I wail. “Stay with me.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

Petty

There are no words that can console RoseLyn as her dad is gently carried upstairs to wait for the ambulance. He seems to be getting greyer by the second, and Red’s call was confirmed when the medics appear. They, too, diagnose a heart attack and whisk him and her mother off in the ambulance.

RoseLyn, beside herself as all she’s done up to now is try to protect her dad from this very circumstance, isn’t going to stay behind. So I instruct Owl to take her to the hospital with promises I’ll be there as soon as I can.

As I stand watching them leave, I hate letting her go by herself, but Red’s indicated we’ve unfinished business.

If I believed in a god, I’d pray Rufus survives. I might not have known him long, but believe he’s one of the good ones. I worry that RoseLyn might never forgive herself if he dies. She might only have recently discovered that she’s not related by blood, but that means fuck all in this world where sometimes it’s blood who can hurt you the most. Case in point, the fucker we’ve got in the basement.

“I need to be with her.” My fingernails dig into my palm. It’s not usual that I’m willing to duck out on club business, but RoseLyn’s needs trump those of the club, or at least, in this instance.

“And you will be.” Red puts his hand on my shoulder. “For now, she’s with her mom, and there’s nothing you can do, Brother. We’ll get you to her as soon as we can, but I think she’d feel better if we bring this chapter to a close before you next see her. Owl will keep us updated with her dad’s progress.”

I hate thinking of RoseLyn coping with her mom’s distress when she’s got no one there to support her. I’m her man, whether she accepts it or not, and it’s my right to be with her. Yet Red’s got a point. Some things are best to be brought to a conclusion sooner rather than later.

Irate that I’m being kept away from my woman, and by the very man who’s responsible for putting her father on the brink of death, I growl my response, “Let’s get this the fuck over with. Thorne’s got to die.”

Red chuckles softly, showing he’s not going to argue. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

Roller appears as if he’s my own personal medic. “I got your tablets here.” Grimly, his face showing that he can see how much pain I’m in, he passes them to me with a bottle of water.

Hoping the tablets soon start to work their magic, I carefully descend the stairs. In my mind, the events of the last half-hour roll back in my head, and I can still see Rufus’s body lying there.

Ignoring my injuries, I launch myself forward, reaching my victim in just a few strides. Placing my hands around his neck, I squeeze and shake him.

“You murdering little thug.” His face is going red and he’s struggling to breathe, but restrained as he is, there’s no way for him to protect himself. But while I’m throttling the life out of him, there’s a mad glint in his eyes that shows he’s amused.

Hands grasp my biceps and pull me away, the sharp pain in my ribs loosening my grip on Thorne’s throat.

“Reckon that death is too quick and easy on him, Brother,” Twister rasps into my ear.

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