Riding up to the beach the scene before me enrages me. So many men, and that bitch standing around Addie. She’s hurt and bound. The look of her in distress does something to me I can’t explain. I don’t even put my bike on its stand. Upon stopping, I lay it over and rush to the beach.

“Zane, wait!” my dad hollers after me. I don’t care if they all shoot at me, there is nothing stopping me.

There is no waiting. Addie is hurt, she’s bleeding and needs me. This is my fault, I should be in her place.

A large man steps in front of me, the familiar dark eyes and an ugly scar on his face taking me back to the day he tried to kill Bull, to the day I shot him. Bender.

“Easy there.” He waves a gun in Addie’s direction, making me halt. “I don’t want you to make my trigger finger tense up, and you coming up here like some cowboy is making me a little… tense.” He smiles, his tongue snaking along his bottom lip.

“You’re a dead man,” I push through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, that didn’t work out for you last time, did it champ?” He chuckles. “Man, you’ve fucking grown up into a man, haven’t you?” His knees nearly buckle with excitement as he eyes me up. A calm hand presses on my shoulder; my dad’s. He’s trying to encourage me to remain calm and patient.

My eyes fall to Addie, her sad face looking right back at me.

“I got you, Sunshine,” I whisper to her. Her eyes close, and tears rush down her face.

“What do you want, Bender?” My grandfather, Bull, pushes his way to the front of the Devils. Taking charge.

“Bull!” The man waves his hands out, his face excited to see my grandfather. “How the fuck have you been?” His words are drawn out, laced with hostility. He doesn’t seem fazed at all that he provoked an entire club.

My grandfather doesn’t answer him.

“Do you know why I attacked your club that day? Hmm.” He waves his index finger back and forth like he’s about to teach us a lesson.

“Get to the point, Bender,” Bull growls, growing tired of the games.

“We wanted to be patched in, we wanted to be your brothers, and you shit on us!”

This is news to me. Then again, I was just a child back when this all went down.

“We don’t just patch a club over. There are rules and steps,” Bull explains, which makes sense.

“Yeah, well. Fuck that, we don’t want to be patched in anymore. I’m just going to take your fucking club.”

“How do you think that’s going to happen?” Grandfather Bull tilts his head to the side.

“No president, no club?” Bender chuckles, the threat causing me to draw my gun along with my brothers standing beside me.

“That’s not happening.” Bull lowers his head.

“I don’t know how you plan on stopping me unless you got some superpowers or some shit!” He belly laughs, looking over his shoulder at his greasy men. I want to kill them all now, shoot first and have the upper hand.

“Not taking your club in was the best decision we made as a club,” my dad states, his eye aiming down the barrel of his gun. He’s ready to end this shit.

“Well, be it as it may.” Bender begins pacing again. “I have a score to settle.” He taps his face, his ugly fucking face. I did that, and it makes me proud. The only regret I have is not hitting his fucking brains with that bullet. Bender glares at me, he knows who I am.

“You nearly crippled me, you little son of a bitch. You made it to where I missed my daughter growing up and now you are going to see what it’s like!” Within seconds, every one of the Lost Wolves aims their weapon at me. I pull the trigger of my gun, a bullet racing out of the chamber, but it’s not fast enough to compete with the thirty men who already pulled the trigger.

Bullets zip past me and I wait for it, the familiar feeling of being shot but instead the dark shadow of a body stands before me; protecting me.

My grandfather’s body shakes and jolts as bullets ram into his body one after another. Everything slows as tears fill my eyes, my jaw dropping as a helpless roar rips from my throat. He’s taking every bullet meant for me. Our club fires back, the sound of shots echoing through the night.

My dad runs to Bull, knocking him to the ground, his body getting hit with a bullet in the process.

Bobby, Lip, and the prospects return fire while Dad and I drop to Bull’s side.

He’s bleeding, his face flushed and eyes wide.

“Why did you do that?” I cry, jerking his shirt open to see if he’s wearing a bulletproof vest.

He’s not. His chest has at least a dozen bullet holes, and blood coating his skin like syrup.

My dad begins to shake, his hands pressing onto the wounds as if he can draw the bullets out and save the man that has done so much for us. That has led us and guided us through life.

Bull raises his hand, his trembling fingers grasping my dad’s wrist and stopping him.

“No,” Bull rasps, pushing my dad’s hand away.

“It’s your turn to take the gavel, son.”

My dad weeps, shaking his head.

“No, you’re going to be fine!” I lie, he’s not. But I can’t let him go, he can’t. He is the fucking president! Why would he jump in front of me? A prospect?

“Take the gavel, Shadow, and take care of your brother Maverick and Anahi for me.” Bull’s voice loses strength, and so do I. I’d like to say I’m a strong man, can handle anything but to see a man dying in your hands, one that taught you and lead you into a world that accepts you. There is no such thing as being strong.

“You’re not dying!” I shout, angry and pissed he’s giving up. Grandfather Bull looks to me, his green eyes seeming duller than ever.

“Your dad is going to need you by his side, son. You are the VP.”

“No, I’m a prospect. I don’t deserve—”

“You are my grandson and my legacy. You are my club and no more about this club than anyone.” His voice cracks, his face becoming pale. His breathing becoming shallow.

I grip his hand, lowering my head. “Don’t go crying for me, boys. I get to see my first love again. The one who took my heart many years ago.”

I nod, remembering the stories he told me growing up of a redhead that was mean and beautiful. He loved her, but God took her away.

Lip pushes me aside, rushing to his president’s side, frantically cussing and trying to wipe the blood away. I stand comatose.

Wiping my face of tears, I look at the chaos around me. People getting shot, members crying, and smoke of guns rising.

Vice President.

I am my club’s vice president now, and I have to stand up. No more sitting in the back and watching.

My eyes land on Bender and Louve jumping on one of their motorcycles trying to make a break for it.

Not today.

Bobby is untying Addie, so I step up to them and take a knee.

“You okay?” I rub Addie’s face. She looks so helpless and hurt, the beast inside of me is practically breaking through its cage. I want to push everyone away from her, and roar my anguish to the world.

She looks over her shoulder at Bender and Louve before glancing at me. Her blue eyes and trembling lips killing me to see.

“Don’t let them get away, Zane,” she pleads. The desperation in her voice coaxing the darkness out of me. If that’s what my sunshine wants, I will do it. I will end this war tonight. I nod, it’s my time to make my spot at the table worth it.

“I’ll get them.” I give her a kiss on the lips, her mouth trembling against mine. Pushing off the ground, I stomp through the sand toward the two cowards who fucked with the wrong club.

Sprinting to a motorcycle parked close by, not caring if it’s mine, I jump on it, and rush out of the beach, chasing the motherfucker that has haunted us way too long.

Louve looks behind her and stretches her arm out before firing a shot at me. It misses. Bender tries to speed up taking a corner way too fast. I don’t slow down, I gain on them and pull my other gun from my holster.

I aim at the back tire and hear my dad and Grandpa Bull in my head.

“When firing a gun, you aim and shoot on an exhale, son.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Upon releasing my last breath, I fire. I release so much with that shot and breath, I feel my soul erupt from the chamber of the gun.

The back tire pops, a spark of fire moments before they lay the bike over. Louve goes flying across the highway, the bike sliding across the asphalt as Bender rolls down a hill.

Stopping my own motorcycle, the pipes hot, I put it on its stand and march over to Louve who is closer. My nostrils flare, anger driving through me like a toxic venom. Aiming my gun at her, it’s obvious she’s dead. Her eyes are open, blood coming from her ears, nose, and mouth. Her head smashing against the pavement without a helmet killing her upon impact.

Stepping over her, I go to find Bender.

“Come out come out where ever you are!” I show tune, the beast in me excited to come out and play more than ever. This is a score that will be at the top of my charts, one that will never compare with any kill before it. This one has meaning. Purpose.

Over the road, and down the grassy hill I find the sack of shit.

He groans, holding his side and trying to get up on his knees.

Stepping down the hill, I press my boot into his side and shove him over.

He groans, falling on his back. I hover over him, my hand shaking as I aim at him.

Glancing up at me, his face covered in blood, he smiles. Interesting.

“What are you smiling about?” I tilt my head to the side.

“You can’t kill me, boy,” he rasps. “You should know that.”

Pointing my gun at his head, I think about all the lives I’ve ever taken. The way I needed to kill to feel relief.

“I’d kill you a thousand times if I could,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears as I think about Bull dying. About Addie hurting, and about how this man has taunted my life since I was a little boy.

Closing my eyes, I fire the gun. It jerks in my hand, the feeling rattling through my limbs.

Skull and brains spray out, and Bender’s eyes remain open. The same haunting look terrorizing me. I kick him and shoot him again and again. His body jerking with every bullet and thrust of my boot.

Screaming and releasing the rage and sins from my soul, I beat the fucking shit out of his corpse, willing him to come back alive so I can kill him again. He went too easy for the pain he’s caused my family.

Red and blue lights light up the sky from up the hill. The cops; shit. Wiping my face, blood smearing, I turn around and head back to the bike, and drive back to where my club and my brothers await me.

Everyone hovers around Bull who is still laying on the ground. My dad stands, holding his side where he was shot. His face winced in pain, and shirt soaked.

“Zane!” Addie screams. Limping toward me, her face distraught.

I rush to her, wrapping my arms around her. Her warm body against mine makes everything feel like it’s going to be okay. God, it feels so good to know she’s alive.

Pushing her face into my chest she cries and sobs. Her nails digging into my back for relief.

“Shhh!” I try and calm her. Pulling her as close as I can.

Eyes above her head catch my attention. Bobby’s. He’s looking at me for the first time more than some prick after his daughter. He gives me a nod, conveying he accepts me to be with his daughter. I nod back, kissing her forehead.

“Is it done?” my dad asks, limping over. I nod, still holding Addie. Never wanting to let her go.

“Is Bull going to be okay?” Addie asks. Looking at Bull, covered in blood, I really don’t know.

“Are you okay?” I whisper into the top of her head, changing the subject.

“I am,” she mutters. “You?”

I look at my club, the sadness hanging in the air, and I don’t know if I will ever be okay.

“I don’t know.” I try and hold in my emotions.

A crow calls from above in the night, catching my attention. It circles and calls as if it’s crying for us. For Bull. A man we call father, a man that helped so many men find their way.

How?