Page 52 of Friar
“I’ll do anything,” she pleaded, looking frantically between us.“Anything you want.I made a mistake.Everyone deserves a second chance.But I can’t… I can’t tell you who helped me.They’ll kill me.”
“You die by their hands or ours,” I said.
She pressed her lips together.Whoever had helped her, she seemed more frightened of them than us.Which made me think it wasn’t a brother or a Prospect who’d helped her.Had someone in the club leaked information to someone they felt was safe andthatperson had talked to Tasha?
“You had three chances,” Beast said.“Three attempts on Cheri’s life.Three chances to walk away, to let it go.You chose this path, Tasha.Now face it like a woman.”
The defiance drained from her then, replaced by pure terror as she realized this wasn’t a negotiation.There was no bargaining, no reprieve coming.Her body began to shake, violent tremors that rattled the gravel beneath her knees.
“No, no, please, I don’t want to die,” she sobbed, the words running together as panic overtook her.“I’ll leave town.I’ll never contact any of you again.I’ll --”
Beast raised his hand, silencing her.“Friar,” he said simply.“She’s yours.”
I moved forward, picking up the hunting knife from the truck.Its weight felt right in my hand, familiar.The blade caught the last rays of sunlight, gleaming like liquid fire as I approached.
Tasha’s screams tore through the quarry’s stillness, echoing off the rock walls and reverberating back to us, multiplied.She tried to scramble away, but the Prospects held her firmly in place, their grip on her shoulders unyielding.
“You think you can threaten my family and walk away?”I asked, my voice barely audible over her screams.“You think you can try to take my child from me and not pay the price?”
“Please!I’m sorry!I was wrong!”Her words dissolved into incoherent begging as I stepped closer.
I thought of Cheri as poison coursed through her veins.Thought of her scraping herself bloody on concrete as a car aimed for her pregnant body.Thought of the bullet that had torn through my shoulder, meant for her heart.Three chances Tasha had taken to destroy what was mine.There wouldn’t be another.Shield would keep working on who fed her information and would track down the hitman.But for now, the main threat was handled.
The first thrust of the knife was for the poisoning, driving deep into her abdomen, mimicking the pain she’d inflicted on Cheri.Her scream reached a new pitch, high and thin with agony.
The second was for the hit-and-run, a vicious jab that made her body jerk against the Prospects’ restraining hands.
The third was for the diner, for the bullet in my shoulder, for the terror in Cheri’s eyes as glass exploded around us.
Each thrust after that was for something else… for the fear that had haunted Cheri’s sleep, for the constant looking over our shoulders, for the betrayal of club loyalty, for the innocence of our unborn child she’d tried to snuff out before it had a chance to live.
I lost count somewhere after seven, my vision tunneled to the task at hand, my world narrowed to the wet slide of steel and the weakening cries that eventually tapered to whimpers, then to nothing at all.
Tasha took one final, gasping breath, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at something none of us could see.Then she slumped forward, held upright only by the Prospects’ grip on her shoulders.
Silence fell over the quarry, absolute and profound.I stepped back, the knife slipping from my blood-slick fingers to clatter on the stones at my feet.The setting sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving us in the blue-gray light of dusk.
Behind me, I heard the flick of a lighter.Beast exhaled slowly, the cherry of his cigarette glowing red in the gathering darkness.
“It’s done,” he said quietly.“The club’s justice is served.”
* * *
Beast’s house was quiet when I stepped through the front door, the soft glow of table lamps creating islands of warmth in the gathering darkness.I’d taken time to clean up, to wash away the evidence of what we’d done at the quarry.The club protected its own, but some burdens weren’t meant to be shared, especially not with someone who’d already carried too much fear for too long.Cheri waited in the living room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders despite the warmth of the evening, her gaze finding mine immediately as I entered the space.The relief etched on her face was immediate, tangible, as if part of her had feared I might not return.
“You’re back,” she said softly, her fingers clutching a mug of tea that had long since gone cold, judging by the absence of steam.She looked smaller somehow, curled into the corner of Beast’s oversized leather couch, her body creating a protective curve around the gentle swell of her stomach.
“Said I would be,” I replied, shrugging off my cut and hanging it on the back of a chair.
I crossed the room slowly, giving her time to read what she needed in my expression, in my body language.We’d been through enough together that words weren’t always necessary between us.I hoped she could see in my eyes what I’d done, if not the specifics.Could read in the set of my shoulders that a weight had been lifted, a threat eliminated.
Her hands trembled slightly as she set the mug on the coffee table, the liquid inside rippling with the movement.“Is it…” She hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing.“Is it over?”
I knelt before her, ignoring the twinge in my shoulder as I took her cold hands in mine.Her fingers were icy despite the blanket wrapped around her, and I rubbed them gently, trying to massage warmth back into them.
“It’s over,” I confirmed, my voice firm with certainty.“Tasha won’t ever hurt you again.Won’t ever threaten our baby again.The club made sure of it.”
She searched my face, looking for reassurance, for truth.“How can you be sure?”
