Page 63 of Rooster

Knowing time wasn’t on our side, Wrath opened the back hatch as he said, “We gotta move, or we’re gonna lose him.”

“Let’s go.” I looked down at Chains, and he didn’t look good. He was pale, and his eyes were glassed over. I put my hand on his chest, trying to get him to come around. “Chains, are you with me, brother? I need you to hang on. You hear me?”

Nothing.

No groan.

No movement.

But I wasn’t giving up.

I swallowed hard, trying to release the knot in my throat as I told him, “We’re gonna have to move you. You with me?”

Again, nothing.

Torch shook his head as he helped me and Clutch lift him into the back of the SUV. As soon as we laid him down, Torch stepped back and said, “I think we lost him.”

Clutch reached over and placed his fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. Moments later, he turned to us, and his weathered face bore the weight of grief as he said, “He’s gone.”

“Fuck.”

Losing a brother was tough, but to lose one during the heat of battle cut deep. One minute, you're side by side, fighting for survival, and the next, they're gone. The loss hits you like a Mack truck, unexpected and merciless, and the fact that I had a part to play in his death hit even harder.

Anguish marked Cotton’s face as he stepped forward and growled, “Damn.”

He sighed as he draped a blanket over Chains’ lifeless body. He stood there, breathing deep as he tried to collect himself, and after a few moments, he looked over to me. “This is on me. No one else, and you have my word that his death won’t be in vain. They will pay for this shit.”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

“You gonna be able to manage that without blowback on the club?” Torch motioned his hand over at the two cars we’d just shot up. “Bauco had to know we were doing the drop, and if I had to guess, I’d say he’s not going to be happy about how things played out.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Grant answered. “As soon as you say the word, I’ll handle Bauco, and I’ll do it in a way that’ll leave them with no means to give you boys any trouble. Same goes for the Reapers.”

None of us questioned Grant’s ability to handle both Bauco and the Reapers. We’d all seen what he could do and knew he’d send a message that everyone Bruton worked with would hear loud and clear.

Wrath cleared his throat and then asked, “What do you want us to do about our friends?”

“Torch ‘em,” Cotton answered. “It’s the safest route.”

“And the goods?”

“Leave them in the trunk,” Cotton answered. “Bauco needs to know we delivered as promised.”

We each gave him an understanding nod, then got to work loading the bodies into the cars. We siphoned some gas from their tanks, just enough to douse the interior, then set them on fire. It didn’t take long for the flames to take hold, and within minutes, both vehicles were totally engulfed. Fearing the smoke might draw attention, Cotton announced, “It’s time to move.”

And just like that, we all dispersed and loaded into our separate vehicles. No one said a word as we pulled out of the parking lot and started home. We’d driven less than a mile when I glanced up at my rearview mirror and spotted the blanket that Cotton had draped over Chains.

I thought back to his last moments, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty about how things had played out. It didn’t matter what Cotton said. I should’ve just ignored the asshole and made the exchange, but I let my anger get the best of me. The only thing that kept me from losing it was knowing that I wasn’t alone in my torment. Each of my brothers felt the same, and together, we would find a way to pay a proper homage to our fallen brother.

Everyone was there waiting for us when we got back to the clubhouse. Doc and Prez were standing in front with a gurney, and they all stood silent, watching as we moved Chains from the truck. Doc carried him down to the infirmary and started preparing him for his burial.

The rest of us gathered in the bar, and we spent the next hour filling in Prez and the rest of the brothers in on what had gone down. Just as I expected, Prez wanted both the Reapers and Bauco to pay and he wanted them to pay big.

There was some back and forth on how to make that happen, especially after what happened to Chains. Even though we all had a thirst for revenge, there was no reason to put the club or the brothers at any further risk. We all agreed that Grant would handle it, and I could tell by his expression that he had big plans for them.

The following day, we all met out back and had a small service for Chains. He didn’t have any family or connections to outsiders, so we buried him with our other fallen brothers. Prez said a few words about Chains, then read a brief scripture.

Once he was done, we all headed out to the parking lot. It was cold, but thankfully, the roads were clear, and we were able to do our tribute run. We all waited and watched as Prez pulled up to the gate and revved his engine. We all followed suit--the roar of our engines echoed the unspoken pain that lingered within all of us.

---