Page 41 of Silver Fox Daddies

I sit on the veranda outside as the morning turns late, regretting my decision to break their necks. I should have tortured them. Hung them up outside their own clubhouse and set fire to them. They deserved something more brutal. Something slower.

I roll back my head, the warm sun drying Reaper Sons blood on my skin. Life is precious and killing should be only done when necessary. Now that the chaos is over, I take a moment and think about the people I killed. Four. Two in the main room and two in Melissa’s.

I shut my eyes, but I still hear the gunshots. They echo into something else. Something bigger than today.

I’m on the field again, defeated by an incredible amount of gunshots. There are bodies all around me, an opposing soldier falling to their knees and saying something in Russian a fewmeters away, their hands together as they plead for a miracle to happen.

“Diesel?” A voice shakes me back to reality. “Are you okay?”

It’s Grizzly, looking down at me perplexed. “Thanks. You did a fine job.”

By killing people.

They’re our enemies, so if we don’t kill them, they’ll kill us, but these people still have families. People they loved, people waiting on them. They were just following their prez’s orders. Just soldiers…

Except the two bastards that put their hands on Melissa. That’s a different story. Those are the only two people that deserve death.

I head back indoors, the smell of antiseptic stinging my nose. A few of the prospects get to work on cleaning up all of the mess, scrubbing blood off the floorboards. Removing bodies.

Around the back, a fire is already roaring.

Of course Bishop is the one waiting to throw the bodies into the flames.

“We lost one,” says Grizzly, head down as he strides through the main room. “One of the new prospects that joined a week ago.”

Fuck.

“I’ll stick him in a coffin and we’ll do the burial tonight. Let’s get all of this mess cleaned up first.”

Things could have been worse, but my chest still contracts from the turn of events. I hadn’t even taken a sip from my morningcoffee when the first one smashed the window and charged in through the empty frame.

Everything seems to be hitting us out of the blue.

Is it just territory they want, or is it something more? Fourteen years ago, I accidentally shot their prez’s wife. Sometimes, I think that’s why they’re attacking now, but Jax has had fourteen years to enact revenge.

I think it fazedmemore than it did him.

She was innocent. Wasn’t even supposed to be there.

Apart from that blip, nothing more recent has been done to Reaper Sons on our part, as far as I’m aware.

But nothing needs to be done. I know a merciless face when I see one. Jax doesn’t care about murder, how many bodies are killed in order for him to accomplish victory.

I grab a pint of beer from the bar to ease the tension in my shoulders, taking generous gulps.

That’s when Cash comes and plonks himself down next to me. “That was pretty intense.”

I huff a laugh. “You can say that again.” I turn to him, setting the beer down for a moment when I realize this is the first time he’s been involved in an attack. It was a pretty gruesome one too. I watch his reaction as two patch members drag a bloody body away across the floor, each taking an ankle. “You stayed alive. Congrats.”

He doesn’t look pleased. “I shot somebody in the eye by accident and enjoyed it.”

If Bishop was here, he’d be high-fiving the man.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “But it brought me satisfaction. I think it has something to do with Melissa.”

“Melissa?” I frown, reminded that she’s still probably in the room with the two men I killed. “What about her?”

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