Page 48 of Fury
Squeezing his eyes closed, he ground out the order, “Call the officers in.” Mason had asked for face-to-face and phone calls, such a loss was not something to be disseminated in a text message, or, God forbid, first seen on social media. Pinto’s presence receded, and Fury knew he was going to do as asked. With the sirens in the background, it was unlikely Mason had finished calling chapter presidents before he would have to conduct a different kind of interview, so once he’d told the officers here in the Fort the few, sparse details he had, he would call Myron, then Bones.
Shuffling footsteps behind him, then a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Gunny standing there. “I just got off the phone with Road Runner. We got news, brother.” Fury gestured towards the seat across from him. “I found records,” Gunny started, pulling the chair out and turning it around, seating himself on it backwards, arms crossed on the wooden back of the chair. “Records going back a few decades, about wrecks in those mountains. You told me to dig deep. Well, brother, I dug fuckin’ deep. You remember how you said Duck’s Brenda was left in a hospital with a note pinned to her coat, transported up a ravine from a burning car and across two county lines to land in that ER?” Fury nodded, finally realizing what Gunny was going on about. He’d asked the man to look into the wreck that killed Brenda’s parents, and to look at what Fury had put together about Tabby’s wreck, trying to find a connection. It seemed he had. “I found another one just like it. This one was Watcher’s little sister, Tabitha.”
“Tabby,” Fury interrupted. Her name was a punch to the stomach, the memories of her loss piling in on top of what Mason had told him. “Call her Tabby.”
“Tabby,” Gunny acknowledged, eyeing Fury curiously. “Her wreck wasn’t no accident. You’re right about that. She was dead before her truck went off the road. What you didn’t find was the boy.”
“What boy?” Fury’s memory of the conversation between old man Mason and his father swam up to taunt him. “Which boy are you talking about?”
“Night of her wreck, two counties away a little boy was laid on a gurney in an ER hallway, note pinned to his coat. Said his parents were dead, family that had been raising him were overwhelmed, couldn’t do it anymore. Got made a ward of the state.” Gunny stared at him intently. “Handwriting on the notes is identical. Same person wrote both, years apart.”
Fury waited a beat for him to continue, and when he didn’t, made an irritated gesture. “Get on with it.” So much to do, and this was likely the least important part of anything.
“Five-year-old kid, not hurt but drugged unconscious. His name is Christopher Camp.” Gunny paused again and when Fury just stared at him, shook his head. “Camp. Deacon’s name is Camp, Ryan Camp.”
“You sayin’ Tabby had Deacon’s son with her that night?” The words didn’t make any sense even as he spoke them. “That doesn’t compute, brother. I don’t understand it, but need to tell you now, we gotta put this aside. We’re about to go to the back room and I got news to lay on you.”
“Age ain’t right for a son. Not unless he was masterful at hiding things. Best I can tell, he had just one boy, James. Lived in California with his mother.” Gunny shook his head, pushing up from the chair as the room began filling with men walking towards the meeting room behind the bar. “I think it’s his grandson. That fits what you heard, right?”
Struggling to keep his composure, Fury nodded. It didn’t quite fit, because all this time he’d been assuming old man Mason and his father had been talking about Morgan. Then he put that information aside and turned to see every face pointed his direction. There were a dozen members in the room, too, and suddenly he couldn’t stomach the idea of telling the story twice. “Let’s do this out here, brothers. I’ll just—” He walked towards the bar and pushed as he jumped, twisting to sit his ass on the bar, putting him head and shoulders over nearly all the men. “I got news, and it ain’t good. Y’all know about the run to New Mexico, right?” Nods around the room, features sharpening as men went on alert, knowing that whatever was coming, it warranted attention. “About eight hours out from Las Cruces, they encountered a group of Diamante.” Involuntary movements placed hands near weapons, just the mention of their enemies’ name enough to bring the level of tension in the room up about a dozen notches “There was a wreck. Watcher went down.” Chins lifted and shoulders squared, bearing the weight of the knowledge he was laying on them. “Mason said he’s the only one on our side lost.”
“Watcher’s dead?” The question echoed from a half a dozen throats, in varying degrees of disbelief. Fury nodded and waited.
Slate’s voice asked, “You’re sure?” Fury couldn’t see them, not a single face, not now, because the staggering pain in Slate’s words plunged a knife into the wall of his grief.Mikey’s gone. How can that be true?He nodded.
“I don’t know much more than that, but Mason asked we do a call and tell, no texting. Watcher was important enough to a lot of us.” His throat tightened, and he felt a hand settle in the middle of his back, fingers pushing deep to help hold him together. “All respect, yeah?”
Gunny was behind him, his growling question asking what a number of men were probably wondering. “He wrecked out, wasn’t taken out by Diamante?”
Fury lowered his head, feeling hot tears tracking next to his nose. He shook his head. “Wrecked out. Mason said he got his target, took out Lalo. Went down in the process.” Murmurs now, and those fingers on his back flexed. “Gonna miss that motherfucker.” Dragging in a deep breath, he steadied himself and blew it out slowly. “Cops were showing while we talked. Mason was sticking tight. Said he’d see Watcher into the bus, then he’ll head on to the compound in Las Cruces. Juanita”—Jesus, Bethy has to know this. She’s going to want to go to Juanita—“deserves to hear it from him.”
Bear asked something Fury hadn’t even considered. “Merger still going to happen? We still gonna fold the Soldiers in as a westerly chapter?”
“Far as I know. I’d be surprised if they didn’t, because, with Watch gone, Soldiers will need help to stay together. So—” He lifted his head, taking a moment to blink until his vision cleared, looking out at the ring of men who appeared as devastated as he felt. “—make your calls. Slate and I will touch base with the chapter presidents, in case Mason didn’t get a chance to call ‘em all. But you can call who you need. Respect, because he’d been a friend of the club for years, and in all but one detail was already a Rebel.” He took another breath, then began the phrase, knowing the men wouldn’t leave him hanging, “Rebels forever—” Every man’s mouth opened, and the words rang out loud, filling the room, “—forever Rebels.”
***
“Baby,” he crooned, cradling the back of Bethy’s head, his other arm curved tightly around her waist, holding her in his lap. When he’d walked into the house, she’d taken one look at him and come straight over, wrapping herself around him.
When he’d pulled her close, she’d demanded, “Tell me,” sounding so much like her brother it was almost funny. He’d told her, starting with what he knew, and then answering her broken questions as best he could. The tears had flowed in earnest, and she’d held on like her life depended on it, Fury welcoming the tight grip she’d maintained.
“Baby, you gotta get a hold of it.” She hiccupped and then sobbed, shoulders jerking with the force of the emotion driving her. “Oh, baby.”
“All gone, every one of them. They’re all gone.” Twisting, she buried her face against his throat, and he felt the wet heat of her tears on his skin. “All of them.”
“Baby, you aren’t making any sense. Who’s gone?”
“First my Tabby. Little Tabby who would have never hurt a fly. Gone before she even lived.” She shifted, cupping the back of his neck with her palm. “Then Darrie, and that was so sad. He never got his feet back underneath him after he came home.” She sobbed again, and he tightened his arms. “And now Mikey. Oh, Gabe. Why? What could have…I’m so pissed at him. Why?”
“Why won’t ever be answered, baby.” He shifted, scooping an arm underneath her legs. “We should go to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” Standing, he lifted her with him, keeping his grip tight.
“Juanita. God, I can’t imagine.” She shook her head, arms twined around his neck. “He was her whole world, has been since he found her. What will she do?”
“She’s got two girls to look after. That’ll keep her somewhat occupied.” He angled them through the doorway and stepped into the bedroom, placing Bethy on the mattress. “We’ll sort it all out, tomorrow.” He slipped off her shoes, then unfastened all the buttons on her jeans. She lifted and wiggled as he pulled them down her legs. “Tonight, we’re going to sleep.” He wadded the jeans up and tossed them to the side, near the wall.
“Bella, does she know?” He nodded, leaning in to brush a strand of hair back from her face. She looked as exhausted as he felt, and all he wanted to do right now was get her to rest for a few hours.
“Tater, the brother she’s hooked up with, he got a call so he could break it to her gentle like.” Pressing his lips to hers, he pulled back. “Diamond is with Mela. He got a call too. They should be at the compound by now.”
