"I need to see him."
I felt like I was walking through quicksand as I made my way to the living room, like my limbs were made of lead, weighing me down as I tried to move. And then I entered the living room, and everything was still. Silent.
There he was.
My father.
Tied to a chair in the middle of the room, his head hanging down on his chest.
Beaten.
Covered in blood.
Nothing else mattered, not June trying to stop me as I ran toward him. Not whichever cop tried to hold me back, keep me away from the body. I dropped to my knees in front of his body, clawed wildly at the rope holding his feet to the chair.
He couldn't be like this, tied to a chair, beaten beyond recognition.
I felt a dam burst inside me, a cry of anguish that rose up from my soul, loud enough to startle anyone within earshot. It sounded like it came from someone else, not from me. And I collapsed there, my head against his legs, racked with heaving sobs I couldn't control. There was so much I had left to tell his man, so much more I needed to apologize for. He couldn't be gone.
Not now.
I reached out to touch his battered face where it was cut open, the wound still oozing freely. Tears stung my eyes, but I wanted to remember his face. The face of the man who raised me, the man I secretly aspired to be. I wanted to tell him I loved him.
I felt someone's hand on my shoulder, pulling me back.
"Cade," June said, her voice soft. "You have to stand up. You can't be here."
I nodded, numb and rose to stand there, beside June.
I stood there, before his lifeless body, my fists clenched so tightly I could barely feel my hands. The only thing left now, the only thing I felt, was rage, pulsing through my veins. The Inferno Motorcycle Club had taken everything from me-my soul, my honor...
And now the life of the man who meant everything to me.
Mad Dog had done this.
This eclipsed everything else.
They would pay. He would pay.
I would burn the club to the ground.
I would kill them all.
VENGEANCE
I entered on the deep and savage way.
~ Dante's Inferno, Canto I (Longfellow's translation)
And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.
~ Revelations 6: 8
June
"I can't bring you into this, June," Cade said. He sat, in my bedroom, his head in his hands, his voice tired. The murders had only happened yesterday, but Cade's face looked like he had aged twenty years. His skin was grey, and the circles under his eyes were nearly black in color. He spoke in hushed tones, glancing toward the doorway. "We should go out there. I don't know if Crunch is okay out there watching Mac. I've never seen him like that."
"I put on a cartoon," I said. "He's on the sofa with her. I tried to tell him he should get some rest, but he wasn't about to let go of her. They'll be okay for a few minutes."
"We need to leave, get back to California," Cade said.
"What will happen to MacKenzie?"
"Crunch's mother-in-law," Cade said. "She's flying in from Puerto Rico. She'll meet us in Los Angeles. You should stay here. It won't be good, what needs to happen. You can't get involved in this."
"I'm already involved in this," I said, the words coming out before I even had a chance to think about the implications. But I knew what the implications were, didn't I? I knew what Cade was talking about.
Revenge.
He was talking about murder.
"I want to kill them, too," I said. I meant every word.
Cade shook his head. "That's what people say," he said. "You say you do, but you don't. People like you, they might say they want revenge, but when it comes to it, they don't really. It'll destroy you, June."
"I've already killed." It came out a whisper, like saying it that way would make it not quite true. As if it would make it not really real. "I've already killed someone. On the operating table."
"I'm sure you killed lots of people, June. Having people die in surgery doesn't count. It's not the same as murdering someone."
I shook my head. "No, not like that. I didn't just lose someone in surgery," I said. "I was operating on this gangbanger, back in Chicago. Came in after shooting at a witness to something the gang had done, I don't know what. The witness was a mom, walking back home from the corner store with her toddler. I couldn't get it out of my head, that they would just shoot at her, no regard for the kid. The kid died at the hospital, and I had this guy, right there, on my table. I'm supposed to save, you know? Heal. The Hippocratic Oath and all that. But my hands shook, and I nicked an artery. He was already close to being gone, and my supervisor stepped in, tried to save him."