“You did it to yourself. You let club business come second when your daughter showed up, throwing everyone in jeopardy,” Locks responds, his lips curled with anger.
“Either way, he has to be dealt with,” Augustus prompts, pulling a pistol from his suit jacket.
He aims it at Locks, who stands right behind me. Locks’ eyes go wide when he notices the gun is pointing at him and grabs me by the shoulders, using me as a shield. The gun fires, pointing directly at me, and I blink, waiting for the bullet to plow into me. Just as I think I’m about to be shot, I’m knocked to the ground.
The wind is knocked from me when my body hits the gritty warehouse floor, making me gasp. I hear a disgruntled cough beside me and glancing next to me, I notice Bobby lying on his back on the ground. Blood is spilling from his side as his legs kick to try to stand up.
I crawl over to him and pick his head up, laying it on my lap to asses where he’s been shot. Right in the gut, shit.
“What the fuck were you thinking, man?” I frantically question him, noticing Bobby’s face paling quickly.
“Saving your ass,” Bobby replies, coughing. He clenches his eyes and moans in pain.
“I called an ambulance. They’ll be here soon, son; hang in there,” Bull says, squatting down beside me.
“You called an ambulance?” Augustus cries with disbelief. “Get what you can hidden, boys!” He points at some crates in the building.
“Think I’m pretty fucked-up,” Bobby says, his blue eyes looking right at me for the truth.
“Nah, it’s just a flesh wound,” I lie.
“Liar,” Bobby whispers. I notice blood crawling out from underneath him.
“You can’t die,” I mutter. I feel my eyes prick with tears, and I let them fall. I can’t take the idea of losing my brother.
“You take care of Firefly and that baby,” Bobby stutters as his eyes start to take a distant look.
“You’re going to be fine. You’re just going to regret trying to save my ass tomorrow,” I tell him, trying to be optimistic, but the look in Bobby’s eyes have me second-guessing my confidence.
“No regret in life, no fear in love, brother,” he whispers as his eyes begin to close. I can feel the life slipping from him as his body goes limp, the fiery depths of Hell taking my best friend.
“Bobby, hang in there,” I say, giving him a shake.
His eyes snap open, and he begins to cough.
“Man, it hurts so much,” he whispers, his hands trembling.
“You can do this, brother,” Old Guy whispers to Bobby.
Bull leans forward and presses his hand to Bobby’s gut, trying to stop the bleeding, but it just gushes between his fingers.
“I stopped it some, but it’s not going to help for long,” Bull states, applying both his hands to the wound.
I look down at Bobby and notice his eyes are closed.
“No, Bobby!” I yell, my voice angry and forced. Trying to wake him, I give him a shove, but he doesn’t open his eyes.
“No. No. No!” I roar.
This can’t be happening. My brother, the one person I considered my own family before I was accepted by anyone, has left me to thrive in this callous world solo.
I lay Bobby’s head down on the concrete floor and stand, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand and smearing Bobby’s blood across my face in the process. I pull the gun I had hidden from my waistband and point it at Augustus. Instantly, weapons from behind Augustus and on the balcony above him are pulled and aimed at me.
“You killed my family,” I grit, my finger heavy on the trigger.
“He jumped in front of my bullet meant for a traitor,” Augustus replies casually, my gun pointing at his head not affecting him at all. “He killed your brother.” Augustus points behind me. I turn my line of sight to follow his gesture and see Locks.
He’s right. This is all Locks’ fault. He went rogue, went against the club, and got Babs killed and almost killed Dani and my baby, all because he wanted to prove a point. I swing the gun around and point it at Locks, who opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say any last words, I pull the trigger. I watch as the slug slams into his chest, making him fall to his knees. His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at his chest where the blood begins to pool from the bullet wound, seeping down his grey shirt. I promised Dani I would kill him for hurting her, and I’m keeping my word. I aim my gun at Locks, ready to take the last shot, when Bull steps up next to me and pulls a gun from his waistband.
“This is for Babs,” Bull whispers as he pulls the trigger, slamming a bullet right into Locks’ throat. Locks falls to the ground, landing on his back. Blood splutters from the bullet hole in his throat, followed by gurgling and gasping. He’s drowning in his own blood.