“Hey, you all right?”
He doesn’t budge.
“Bellamy?” Shaking him, he wobbles and doesn’t respond.
“Pegs!” I shout, and he’s by my side in seconds.
“He’s not moving.”
Pegs rolls Bellamy over onto his back. His eyes are open, a bullet wound to the face.
“No. No. No.” Emotion rattles my voice. On my knees, I put my fingers to his neck, looking for a pulse. “Bellamy!” I shake him again, and Pegs puts one of his hands on mine. Glancing up at him, a sadness in his eyes tells me what I don’t want to believe.
“He can’t be…”
My eyes fall back down to Bellamy. He’s dead because of me. I didn’t think he could handle being here tonight, and he ended up being the one who saved my life tonight. He took a bullet for me.
Pulling Bellamy’s body to mine, I close my eyes. Flashes of when we were kids roll through my head, before the club and all the savage shit got into our heads. We’d play superheroes and run through the house, Mom’s curtains tied around our necks like capes because they actually waved and fluttered when we ran fast enough. She would get so mad at us, and Dad would laugh and tell her we’re just being kids.
“We gotta go.” Hollywood’s depressed voice cuts through my memory, and a tear slips down my cheek. Sniffling, I wipe it away, hoping none of the men saw it.
“I’m not leaving Bellamy behind.”
“I’ll call Pax to bring the truck here,” Pegs promises. I nod. Standing up, I look over the place. I want nothing left of this club. If this fucker isn’t destroyed, more wasps will come in and set up shop.
“Burn this motherfucker down.” I order my men. They chuck bottles of whiskey off the shelf onto the floor. Letting them take care of it, I grab my brother and toss him over my shoulder. The floorboards creak as I move toward the door. Pegs holds the door open for me as I step through the valley of darkness and death, the lick of the flames from the fire starting behind me, warming my back. I should have never let my brother come. I could have locked him in the room with Monet or something. He was so young and dumb, but I love him, would do anything for him. I can’t believe he jumped in front of that bullet. He saved my life. I always thought he was too immature for this world, when really, he was seeing things I never could. He was brave, and fearless. I’ve just been angry and spiteful.
Getting closer to Pegs and the truck, Pax runs around to lower the tailgate. With the moon shining down on his long hair and eyeliner, he looks like fucking Marylin Manson. Shaking his head, he studies Bellamy.
“Man, that’s so fucked.” His sullen voice makes me want to lose my shit and cry, but I don’t.
“Take him to the club,” I demand, gently putting his body in the bed of the truck.
“You got it, brother.” He slips into the driver seat and does a U-turn before driving back into Death Valley.
Running my hands through my hair, I watch as the fire envelopes the Titans’ clubhouse. My brothers walk toward me in the wake of our destruction.
My uncle tried to kill me when I was a baby, he set me up to kill my girlfriend, and my brother died. So much hurt and despair hangs in the air tonight, killing that motherfucker did nothing for the anguish rattling inside me. Falling to my knees, my head in my hands, I let out a yell so violent, I pray the gods can hear my pain. My life has been unfair since the day I was born, the odds playing against me, yet here I am. My throat raw and chest burning, I can’t help but wish my fucking father was here. I want him to tell me I did the right thing, that this was supposed to happen.
“You all right?” I lift my head at the sound of Pegs’ voice.
“I did what my dad wanted, but I feel like less of a leader than before I started.”
“That’s how you know you’re doing it right.”
Narrowing my eyes on him, my mouth parts in confusion.
“You’re pissing people off, making others happy. Some alive, some dead. That’s the life of being president. I watched your dad do it.” He hunches down until he’s face to face with me. “That’s how I know you’re the one for the gavel, because none of us can do this shit, Godric. This club needs you.”
Focusing on him, I nod. They need me. My father raised me to be able to handle this shit. Now isn’t the time to lose my shit.
“The club needs me,” I repeat. Pegs stands, holding his hand out for me. I look at it for a second, remembering my mother and the rest of the men who don’t have a family. I am their brother, their son, and I can’t give up. Clasping Pegs’ hand, I stand up and dust myself off.