The CW’s who wanted to go along with us have already been taken to safety and are being watched by the prospects. The ones who did we’re taken to Dean O’Connell over in Gates. He’ll make sure nothing happens to him. We also transferred all the businesses to a new name, considering what we’re doing means dead men can’t own shit. Or so they say.
Sitting next to Demi, I’m waiting for Emery to get here, but I’m also savoring the last few minutes with her. Just in case.
“Duchess, swear to fuck you don’t wake up, I’m going to flip my shit completely. I get we’ve spent more time fighting and arguing with each other, but I’m telling you, I need you,” I confess, stroking her cheek right above the tube going to her nose. “I remember the first time I saw you, I couldn’t pull my eyes away. You entranced me without even meaning to. I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anyone else, but you got to know I love you, Demi. Fuckin’ swear on my life I do.”
“You know she’s in love with you too, Bane,” Emery says softly from the doorway. Her eyes glued to her sister’s face.
“Well, she needs to wake up so I can hear that shit from her,” I mutter, looking back to my woman. “You all set? Stone?” I close my eyes and can see Demi’s face while she looked up at me. Her blood seeping from her wounds as she spoke those simple but heavy words, “Just know I love you.” Those words don’t count for a damn thing until she opens her eyes and tells me herself once more.
“Don’t worry about us. We’re good. They didn’t call the two of us Seer and Fate for nothing,” she states, walking up to the other side of Demi’s bed. “I’ve got this covered.”
Nodding, I bend and press a kiss to Demi’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon, Duchess.”
Straightening, I step away from the bed, jerk my chin at Emery, and head for the door—locking away my emotions as I go.
I leave the hospital and head to the clubhouse. Pulling into the courtyard, I find it bare of anyone or anything important. Well, not that important. All the bikes along the front aren’t ours—they’re rentals, so we’re good on that front. Ours are already secured in place.
Kicking the stand down, I swing my leg over and stalk into the clubhouse. I meet Scorch’s blank gaze as the door closes behind me. “Emery’s got her side under control,” I inform him, not wanting him to worry about his ol’ lady.
Scorch nods and glances around the room. “This is it, brothers. The moment they’re all inside. Ram, you make sure no one else is lying in wait outside. They are—Bullseye will take them out. We get this done, and we do it quickly.”
I nod alongside my brothers and grin. “No matter what, we’re brothers regardless of if we wear a cut or not. We’re still Royal Bastards until the end. We just gotta make a turn and drift to the right.”
Each of my brothers agrees and jerks their chins up.
“They’re pulling in now,” Ram announces, putting his tablet down.
A few minutes later, men dressed in knock-off suits step into the clubhouse. The first two scan the room. Their hands clasped in front of them, seeming to not realize the wolf’s den they had just walked into. They step aside as the rest enter—all of them trying to look important when truly they ain’t shit. Hell, I’m sure Demi and Emery both have bigger balls than these fuckers. I’ve seen them break down and put a gun back together. Not only that, those two can hit a target repeatedly on a red dot each time.
I smirk at the thought and glance over to Scorch, finding him eyeing the men very closely.
One of the pudge men in the middle step forward and introduces themselves. “Evening, gentlemen. I’m Martin Fernandez, and this is my associate, Charles Duncan.”
“Don’t give a shit what your name is,” Scorch says, curling his lip at the man speaking.
“Well, then we’ll just get right to it,” Fernandez huffs and pulls a piece of paper from inside his suit jacket. “Our boss is asking that you hand over all businesses and territory you deem yours.”
I cock a brow as he hands the papers in our direction. I reach out and take them. Pretending to read over them, I glance over to Ram to see him give me the cue that it’s all clear outside. Snorting, I shake my head and hold the papers over to Scorch, who takes them from me.
“Well, I’ve my own message for your boss,” Scorch declares and rips the paper in half. “It’s not an easy message to deliver either.” Pulling his gun out from his holster, he’s the first to pull the trigger, initiating a gunfight.
The men we’re up against have nothing on us. I’m not one to brag, but we’re damn good. Scorch and I learned from one of the best shooters we know. Ghoul, his uncle. When I was a kid, I’d shoot at Ghoul with my BB gun just to piss him off. Because of him, Scorch and I both learned to respect firearms.
One by one, each of our enemies go down, leaving only my brothers standing. Scanning over each of them, I notice a few have what looks like grazes on their arms, but nothing serious. Thank fuck.
“Now, let’s get this shit done,” Scorch commands, putting his gun away. “The only ones I want to know we’re still alive after we’re done with this shit is the National Prez and Ghoul. Everyone else is to think we’re dead until we’re able to take out the bastards.”
He’d already put the letters in place and sent them to Pooh, who’ll send them to the proper addresses when the time comes. None of us will be coming back from the dead until these men are out of the equation.
Pyro does his thing and sets up the explosives along with the accelerant. The rest of us get the shit organized.
I place the last of my shit in the backseat of the cage we’re all gonna hop in and look back to my brothers. Pyro is the last to step from inside the clubhouse, a shit-eating grin in place.
“We’re good to go,” he chuckles, holding up the trigger and hands it to Scorch. “Here you go, Prez. Honor’s all yours.”
“Appreciate it,” Scorch says, his own grin slipping into place. “Let’s get this shit done and become dead men.”
We all hop into the cage, and Scorch presses the button blowing up the clubhouse we’ve all called home for years now.
Here goes nothing.
Frost pulls away from the curb, and we head for the private airstrip. We’re meeting Emery and Demi there. Rodric sent over his private jet and a cargo plane for us to transport what we needed to where we’re going.
The moment we come to a stop, I throw the side door open and hop out. I need to set eyes on Demi. Her father sent over a medical team to help us with her transport since she’s still in a coma.
I don’t worry about my bag, knowing my brothers will bring it for me. My main focus is getting to her and making sure her heart is still beating. For the next so many hours, I’ll be on pins and needles until we get her to the medical facility in Scotland.
They may say dead men have no hearts. Doesn’t matter because we do. Our lives spiraled into chaos, and the storms still brewing. They started the war when those bastards shot my woman. We intend to put an end to their miserable lives, but to do it, we’re taking them all down. Every last one of them. Including the Supreme Masters.