Page 52 of Klutch's Kryptonite

The two men step just outside the door, speaking in hushed tones. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but Pee Wee’s posture is tense, his shoulders rigid.

With them out of the room, Kenny slides off her gurney and makes her way to mine. Without a word, she climbs up beside me and wraps her arms around me, careful to avoid my bruised ribs.

“I’m so sorry, Dems,” she whispers.

Something breaks inside me at her words. The dam I’ve been desperately trying to hold together crumbles, and all the emotions I’ve been suppressing come flooding out.

“He’s dead, Kenny. My dad is dead,” I choke out, burying my face in her shoulder. “Frankie killed him. He’s gone.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Dems. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she murmurs, stroking my hair as I fall apart in her arms.

But it’s not okay. It will never be okay again. My dad, for all his faults, was the only family I had left. And now he’s gone, just like my mom. I’m completely alone now.

“What am I going to do?” I sob. “I don’t have anyone left.”

“That’s not true,” Kenny insists, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “You have me. You’ve always had me.”

I nod, trying to draw comfort from her words, but the hole in my heart feels bottomless. “I keep thinking about the last time I saw him at The Underground. He said he was going to fix things.” My voice breaks. “I should have stopped him. Made him tell me what he was planning.”

“This isn’t your fault,” my best friend says firmly. “None of this is your fault.”

I wipe at my tears, wincing when my hand brushes my injured lip. “I should have listened to Klutch. He told me to stay away from the apartment, but I went anyway. And look what happened to us.”

Kenny pulls me closer. “We’ll get through this, Dems. We always do.”

But as I cling to my best friend, I’m not so sure. There’s no fixing this. He’s gone forever.

The door opens, and Bravo steps back in. His expression softens when he sees me crying in Kenny’s arms.

“I’m sorry about your father,” he says quietly.

I look up, surprised. “How did you?—”

“News travels fast in the clubhouse,” he explains. “You should try to rest. It’s going to be a long night.”

As he leaves, Kenny adjusts her position to make us both more comfortable. “Try to sleep, Dems. I’ll wake you when Klutch comes back.”

I close my eyes, exhaustion dragging me down.

But even as I drift off, one thought keeps circling in my mind.

What happens now?

Chapter Fifteen

Klutch

The world is a goddamn filthy place and I’m the bastard about to make it even dirtier. That’s the thought in my head as I pull up to Eternal Peace, the funeral home the club owns. The building is unassuming—beige siding, tasteful sign, even some fucking flowers planted out front. No one would ever guess the torture and murder that happens in the basement when someone fucks with us.

Cutting the motor, I sit on my bike for a minute, trying to calm the monster inside me begging to unleash payback on those who hurt my woman. “Motherfuckers.”

I can still see Demi’s battered face staring up at me full of fear, her busted lip that will no doubt leave a scar, and the desperation in those blue eyes I’ve grown to need more than my next breath. I know what pieces of shit like Frankie and his sidekick do to women. I’ve seen the aftermath. If I hadn’t shown up when I did...

My hands clench around the handlebars, knuckles going white. The rage inside me feels like a living thing, clawing at my insides, demanding blood.

I dismount and head around the building to the back entrance. Undertaker’s standing there waiting, his usually relaxed expression is gone, and in its place is a look of fury.

“They’re downstairs,” he says, holding the door open. “Yukon and Beast started without you.”

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