Page 63 of Hell's Claim

“Are you injured, candidate?” Chance asked.

“No. The shooter was a man on a black Harley with a gun. I couldn’t see his face as he wore a mask.”

“Did the bike have any distinguishing marks?” Diesel inquired.

“No.”

“Sunny’s shot,” Bear said, and Sunny blinked. He was?

“Shit, Chatter, take over from Sunny. Sunny, sit your ass down,” Chance ordered as he got up.

In the distance, they could hear the police and ambulance rushing towards them. Sunny looked down at his shoulder and cursed. The bullet had skimmed the top of it, and he’d need stitches but nothing else.

“He alive?” Sunny asked hoarsely.

“Got a pulse, but it’s weak, and he’s unconscious,” Chatter replied.

“Make sure he stays alive,” Chance ground out. “I want his information.”

Sunny was looking around. He was taking note of who wasn’t present. His jaw locked. Levi and Shotgun were missing from those suspected of being traitors. Sunny’s eyes locked with Chance, and Sunny saw suspicion in them.

Sunny was already considering Banshee and Tiny out of the running. But then again, they could be working with someone. Shit. He hated this, but it was necessary. None of them could be ruled out, but Shotgun and Levi had made it to the top of his list.

Bear

He watched as Sunny and Primal were loaded into ambulances, despite Sunny’s protestations. How convenient that just as Primal was about to spill the beans, he was shot? Fuckin’ convenient. Even stranger was Primal giving Sunny’s name. Anyone else would think it was a father calling to a son. But Primal had never been Sunny’s dad.

“What are you thinking?” Chance asked as he watched Edwards and Cross approach.

“Sunny might be dirty,” Bear murmured, and Chance nodded.

“I agree. No reason for Primal to call out to Sunny. Sunny may have returned to cause trouble in the club and tear us apart,” Bear added.

“Yeah, I’m starting to think that way, too. We only have Sunny’s word on all this, including him nearly being caught at Zeus’s grave. Watch your tongue,” Chance warned as Edwards came close enough to hear their conversation.

“Seems Hellfire is having some trouble. A dead body turns up linked to Hellfire, a woman was attacked, and now someone’s shot at you, and we’ve a severely injured ex-member. Hellfire’s past seems to be in the present, right now,” Edwards stated.

“We wanna know what’s going on as much as you,” Chance replied, looking bored. “But the problems are finding us, not the other way around.”

“Maybe if your past wasn’t so…” Cross said and left the sentence hanging.

Bear snorted. “Dude, we are clean, we’re the good guys. You might not think so, but where were you a year ago when Rapid City was under attack? Didn’t see either of you there defending the city or its people. You were hiding under a table, praying we did your fuckin’ jobs for you. Don’t come here shit slinging.”

Edwards scowled. “That has nothing to do with this situation. One of you here is a murderer. I have the body. Someone needs to pay.”

“And where is your proof a Hellfire brother killed him? You’ve got nothing,” Chance retorted.

“And how do you know that?” Cross demanded.

“Because you’d have arrested us. You’ve got one body and no idea who killed him. Take your scaredy cat asses and get the fuck off my land. I’m tired of your baseless accusations, and I’ve got an injured brother. Sunny is my priority right now. Next time I see either of you, have a warrant, and I’ll have a lawyer,” Chance said dismissively.

Bear turned and began heading for the clubhouse.

“One body? Sorry, didn’t you hear? We’ve got two. Jason Blackwood, Zeus’s cousin, known as Grinder,” Edwards declared. “Coroner has some interesting shit to say about him.”

“I’m sure he does,” Chance agreed and walked away.

Bear held Edward's gaze.

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