He kissed her head a final time, and it was then that she realized the noise had gone silent.
Killian helped her to her feet, and that was when she saw the men who’d been in the car, were in control. Guns trained on most of the older men. Manic was there, staring at his mother. Her nose was bleeding, and June got a sick sense of pleasure at seeing the blood running down her face.
“You did this?” Manic said. “My own mother.”
“Please, give me a break. You’re such a fucking pussy.” Lauren got to her feet. Blood coated her arm in crimson.
“Remember what I told you,” Boss said. “This is your problem to deal with. I’m getting fucking tired of cleaning up everyone else’s mess. Clean this shit up!”
Killian held her hand tightly, and she watched as Manic’s hand didn’t shake. “I know what I have to do.”
“Then do it already.”
Boss wasn’t helping the situation. Killian squeezed her hand, and then she watched as he left her side. He went to Manic, patted his shoulder, grabbed the gun from him, and shot Lauren in the head.
“No one should ever have to kill their own mother, no one.”
Chapter Twelve
Killian watched the bitch fall to the ground, and a rush of raw satisfaction washed through him. He stood transfixed as blood pooled on the concrete around her, a morbid canvas.
She was the first woman he’d killed.
He remembered life as a young boy, hating how men treated the women who’d raised him. Whores or not, they didn’t deserve what those assholes dished out. Killian had promised himself never to become that kind of lowlife. In this case, an exception was in order.
“Damn, that was a long time coming,” said Boss. “You’re the rightful heir to the Dead Angels, Manic. I hope you’ll handle your shit better than your mother.”
“I’m nothing like her,” said Manic. He shook his head, looking down at the body. Even if the woman was a fucking monster, it couldn’t be easy for a kid to see his mother’s dead body. Killian knew first hand. At least Manic didn’t have to pull the trigger.
“You okay?” asked Killian.
“Yeah. It had to be done,” said Manic. “It’s just hard to believe I have no family left.”
Killian realized he’d personally taken both this kid’s parents from him. He knew what it was like to have no one and nothing, only himself to rely on. It had made him hard. Made him invincible. He hoped Manic would be able to forgive him one day.
“You have your club. That means everything. Patched for life, eh?”
Manic nodded absently, still staring at the body.
Viper came up behind Boss, resting a hand on his shoulder as he took in the scene. “You’ve got three IOUs, and this is what you want me to deal with? Fuck.”
“Anyone loyal to the dead bitch needs to join her. Take Shadow and Manic and hunt down anyone outside the club. It only takes one piece of shit to spread the disease, so end it. No mistakes. I’ll have the clean-up crew in town within the hour,” said Boss. “By the way, you’ll be paying for it, Manic. This is your shitstorm, not mine.”
“Whatever, I’m not worried about money, just deal with it,” said Manic.
Killian put his arm around June and held her close. The pungent, abrasive scent of gunfire lingered in the air. Manic’s crew was already rounding up the old bikers, handling them execution style. The two remaining girls were already gone, probably to the hospital. It was over. No more worrying about June and Killian, no more putting off his dreams of a forever family.
“I won’t lecture you,” said Boss. They faced off for a minute, and Killian could hear every unspoken word from just the eye-contact. Killian had fucked up. He’d been weak, left loose ends ten years ago, and didn’t take Boss’s advice. The list went on, but there was no way Killian would be put in this position again. It was a hard lesson learned.
“Did you know all along?” asked Killian.
Boss smirked, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. The bastard was always one step ahead of everyone. The thing with Boss, he had patience, and he liked some lessons to be learned rather than taught.
As much as he wanted to leave town, Killian still had to hang around to help Killer of Kings. There was more than just a body count to clean up. Manic’s life had been turned upside down, and part of Killian took personal responsibility for Manic since he’d let him live all those years ago. He couldn’t be older than twenty-five, but he was strong and weathered. Growing up in an MC was no cake walk.
First things first, Killian needed his woman. With all the chaos and stress, he had to unwind, to drown in June’s sweetness. He kissed her temple, then whispered in her ear. “You look beautiful in that dress. Lose your panties. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
He walked over to Shadow, pulling him aside. There were still occasional gunshots deeper in the club, shouting, and cursing. The place was being torn apart by Manic’s crew and Boss’s men. “I just want to thank you for hanging around and having my back,” said Killian. “I know you were hired for recon, so I appreciate it.”