Seems like he wasn’t done taking away my life, my family, because when I walked through the doors to the club, he was sitting in front of the bar smiling and joking with my family. He clapped his hand on Hansen’s back, laughing at something. He was breathing free air. He was laughing with the men I loved. Him. The man who robbed me of everything.
I struggled to breathe as I felt everything collapse around me. My heart seemed to pound so loud it deafened me. I felt my blood go hot and every ounce of anger I’d swallowed over the years seemed to burn through my veins.
I didn’t register anything. Not Hansen’s shocked face as he saw me standing in the doorway, not the way that Grim’s level gaze darted from the animal to me. Not Jagger calmly walking up to me, trying to direct me gently out the door. Nothing.
All I saw was the gun tucked into Jagger’s jeans, visible from the angle he was leaning to get me out the door. Because he was doing that, he didn’t expect me to yank the gun out of his belt, calmly switch off the safety and rush to where Hansen was sitting. Everyone seemed to freeze as I lifted the barrel and shot through the face that had been etched into my brain for twelve years.
The gunshot served as something to slow my heart, to regain sound. I felt something warm splatter on my face and then there were arms around me, frenzied curses, a huge amount of not so organized chaos. I didn’t really pay attention to it. The anger seeped away as someone yanked the gun out of my hands, and I was half carried by familiar arms to the sofa area. I felt numb. Seeing everything going on around me, but not registering it. My ears rang slightly.
“Holy fuck!” I heard someone yell.
“Make sure no one heard that shit. Get this place locked down and the body out of sight now,” Grim’s calm voice demanded.
Hansen’s face dominated my vision and stopped me from focusing on the surrounding commands. His face was concerned, on the edge of panic.
“Macy, look at me,” he said calmly, his voice not betraying a thing. His hands grasped the sides of my neck.
I looked at him blankly.
“Talk to me, baby,” he pleaded softly.
I stayed silent. I was looking at him, but not really seeing him. It was almost like I was looking through him. I felt like I’d taken a handful of Xanax or smoked an insane amount of weed. Everything was fuzzy.
“Hansen, you need to get Macy the fuck out of here now. Levi’s with you,” a sharp voice ordered.
My eyes moved over to Grim, who was standing watching me with cold eyes. Levi stood behind him, his usually carefree face hard and slightly pale.
Jagger was staring at me off to the side, staring at me like he had no idea who I was.
Charley came up beside Levi. “Holy fuck, I was gonna put my money on any bitch shooting someone in here, it’d be Kim and she’d be shooting off Hammer’s dick for not making her his Old Lady,” he commented, his eyes wide, observing me.
Levi smacked him upside the head, his face still serious.
Hansen kept his eyes on me, hands firm at my neck.
“Macy,” he repeated.
“Now, Hansen,” Grim ordered.
Hansen didn’t look his way but nodded. He clutched my arm and half dragged me toward the back exit. I focused on the pictures on the walls, the ones that I’d thought of as my family portraits. Ones I didn’t even recognize anymore. I tried not to think of that, tried not to glance over at the body that was sprawled meters away. The body missing a chunk of head. The body I’d created.
They’d taken me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. A cabin I didn’t recognize, and one that had seen better days. The paint was peeling and the air smelled slightly musty. A television was in front of the lumpy sofa I was sitting on, and it was covered in dust.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Macy?” Hansen roared while he paced in front of me.
I flinched at his tone. The gentleness of before was long gone.
There hadn’t been talking on the ride here, considering I’d been on the back of Hansen’s bike, pressed up against him. When we’d arrived, I’d been unceremoniously dragged in here and deposited on the sofa. Hansen had started pacing. Levi leant on the stained counter. He stepped forward slightly, eyes flickering to me.
“Calm, brother,” he muttered, a hand on Hansen’s shoulder.
Hansen’s shrugged the hand off and moved his furious glare from me to Levi.
“Calm?” he repeated. “Fuck calm! She just fucking shot a man in the middle of the fucking club. Broad daylight! With witnesses!” he yelled. “Lucky it was only patched members in attendance, that’s not to say someone wouldn’t have heard the shots, maybe called the cops,” he started pacing again.
Levi stood in front of him. “No need to worry about that shit, unless there’s cause. Lock it down,” he ordered.
Hansen nodded stiffly, moved his eyes to me then stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
I flinched again at the noise but stayed silent.
I heard Levi’s sigh and his boots made their way over to me. He knelt down so his face was level with mine. His eyes were hard but his expression was gentle.
“You think I’m gonna go to jail?” I asked with a weird sort of detachment. Nothing had sunk in yet. I had the numbness I had chased last night. And a weird feeling of peace.
Levi squeezed my leg. “Not if we got anythin’ to do with it, darlin’,” he said softly.
“I don’t mind, you know?” I said in that same cold voice. “If I do. I’d rather not if I had a choice, I don’t like the outfits and I’m not too keen on being someone’s bitch. But I know what I did… broke the law, killed someone…” I shrugged. I knew I should have been feeling something right now. Scared. Disgusted in myself. Guilty. I felt nothing. Only relief.