Page 38 of Wolf.e
“Fuck this,” Mason seethes, pulling his Bowie knife from the sheath at his hip. He looks up at me with the need for revenge burning in his eyes.
“I know he’s out, I know he won’t feel it, but I will. And he’ll feel it when he wakes up,” he pleads to me. “I want the fingers from his right hand, the first two,” he says, then grits his teeth.
I know why he needs this.
I nod only once and his eyes light up with the anticipation of blood. Sometimes, I think Mason is even more unhinged than I am.
He makes his way over to Gator and kneels onto his arm, spreads his fingers wide and hacks them clean off. Gator’s hand instantly begins to bleed profusely on the tarp covered floor. Mason uses one heavy boot to stomp the severed fingers, the sound is a sickening crunch, then he tosses them into Gator’s lap and makes his way over to me.
“It’s a start,” he deadpans.
I put my arm around him. “Feel better?” I ask with a chuckle.
“I’ll feel better when he’s the dead man who fucked my baby sister instead of the living one.”
I look back at Gator, his mangled hand bleeding all over the place, and instruct Rick to just leave him. He’s a dead man anyway, and that thought gives me peace. I don’t take a life lightly, but there are some things that just can’t be avoided. Even if it were one of my men that went after underage pussy, I would personally hand them this same fate without remorse. The difference is, most of my guys are soldiers and stand-up men. They might get around and a little outta control but none of them are creeps that prey on children. DOS has been known for patching in all sorts of characters lately, and they’re never really able to keep a good handle on their so called ‘disciples.’ That’s probably because the club Pres snorts his weight in coke and is always out of fucking control, just like the rest of them.
Monkey see, monkey do.
One day, we’ll either take them down or patch them over, and the area of Atlanta they peddle their dope in will fall to one of our sister clubs.
Until then, I’m okay to pick them off one at a time, especially if it means no young girl will ever fall victim to pieces of shit like Gator Freeland again.
“Got that out of the way. Think I can get married without a catastrophe before you fuckers carve this turkey?” Ax asks as he breezes between us, gripping both our shoulders.
“Can’t promise anything,” I tell him honestly.
“We’ll at least try to get you through the ceremony, Loverboy,” Flipp calls from behind us.
Fucking boys. Never a dull moment.
Chapter 19
Brinley
I’ve lived in Georgia my whole life, but I haven’t been to Tybee since I was a little girl. I’d forgotten how magical it is.
The inside of the sanctuary where the wedding is taking place has been transformed to a rustic, white floral dream. Much like last night’s rehearsal dinner, greenery, lights, and lanterns hang from every surface, candles are everywhere, and the entire back wall of windows faces the ocean.
The sun is just starting to sink when the organ plays and all the club members begin walking in, not in suits, but in the same black jeans, long sleeved, black button-down shirt and their cuts. The ones who wear rings have them on and the men are cleaned up, hair pushed back off their faces, those with longer hair in the back. There must be fifty of them and they all come in together. It’s almost hypnotizing to watch them. I can’t imagine being so invested in anything or having that much of my heart committed to something.
I shake my head, realizing that I’m romanticising all theirprobable illegal activity for one reason and one reason only, and that reason just walked in with the groom. Wavy hair, loose just behind his ears, Wolfe looks…incredible. It hits me that I don’t even know his first name.
Wolfe’s eyes lock on mine and I try my best to fight the pull. His powerful shoulders flex as he looks away, releasing his hold on me as he shakes a few members’ hands.
He strides to the front to shake Sean’s hand in congratulation, and I see him smile for the first time as he gives Sean the manliest hug I’ve ever witnessed, the kind where they clap each other on the back only once. Wolfe always looks incredible, but this smile, it’s the vast transformation between a cold and emotionless man and one who feels deeply for his men. In less than one second, he pulls me in like a moth to flame.
I wait for his eyes to come back to mine and as I do, a sort of nervous elation washes over me, like I’m inching my way up a really high roller coaster, anticipating that drop.
They search…lock to mine…hold me…Drop.
Wolfe turns to stand at Sean’s side as the music begins to play, and one by one the bridesmaids make their way down the aisle. Their dresses flow in a silky cascade, each woman filling out her black floor length dress in her own beautiful way. Everyone’s breath catches as Layla rounds the corner on the arm of Dell. I smile when I see him, and he gives me a small wave. It’s nice to find a friendly face in the crowd and he looks great.
The ceremony goes by quickly, officiated by a club chaplain from Rochester. It’s not religious in any way and we listen as Layla and Sean recite their own vows, Sean adding in that he promises to obey Layla as much as possible and Layla adds that she promises to disobey him, which makes us all laugh. It’san oddly sweet and endearing ceremony, and as the sun says it’s final goodbye to the day, they’re announced husband and wife. They kiss amidst a roar of cheers and flashbulbs from the photographers.
By the time photos are over and we’re all ushered into the equally beautiful reception room, I’m feeling relaxed and actually glad that I came. Layla said there are times when club life gets hectic, maybe I was just unlucky enough to witness it on my first go around last night. I’m amazed once again how different this group is than I expected.
“Funny meeting you here,” Dell says from behind me as I stand at the bar.
