Angel was exhausted, but now that she lay in the bed in the motel room in Quebec, she couldn’t shut off her brain. Her thoughts were all over the place, but mostly on Dax and those dead blue eyes. She finally pushed back the covers and went over and got the little video recorder. She hadn’t watched the tape yet. Part of her never wanted to see it and the other part of her knew that she had to watch it. She had to know for sure who and what she was thinking of giving her life up for. She had heard what happened, and she’d seen the aftermath, but she hadn’t watched Dax pull the trigger. That part of her brain was still suffered from magical thinking.

She sat down at the desk against the wall and switched on the light. With a heavy sigh, she hit play on the recorder. She watched it from the beginning, so it took several minutes to get to the part with Dax. As soon as she heard the soon-to-be-dead man say, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of that C4?” she paused it. Her hands were shaking. She’d seen people shot on the streets before, by cops or snipers, but she’d never seen anyone killed in cold blood. And especially, she’d never seen anyone she loved do something like that. But maybe it wasn’t cold blood. There was that whole thing Symone had said about the man’s being a pervert. It sure hadn’t seemed like she was just making things up at the time. Angel was about to push the button to unpause the video when her phone rang. She nearly jumped out of her skin. She went over and got it, and another tiny little tickle of hope filled her chest. It was David.

“Hey, David, what did you find out?”

“Hello to you to, little sister. I’m fine, thank you. My day was busy, hectic even, but because this was for you, I’m still up at this ungodly hour even though I have to report back to the station by six a.m. tomorrow morning.”

“Hello, David. I’m sorry if I put undue stress on you, and I appreciate you doing this even though I know you probably had a million other things to do. Okay?”

“Better. Alright, this Bobby Stacks character has been in and out of trouble since he was…”

“What did you find out about the brother?”

“Do you mind letting me do this my way? Trust me, okay?”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“So Bobby was first arrested at the tender young age of eleven years old for stabbing a classmate with a butter knife.”

“Jesus, eleven?”

“Yep. He was sent to the Manson Youth Facility where he spent three years with some badass little dudes. I’d be willing to bet he made some friends for life in there and learned how to do some good shit. So, he was fourteen when he got out. He went back home to his abusive, alcoholic mother, who had given birth to another lucky little boy while Bobby was locked up. This little boy was called Frank. The next year, Bobby knocked up his girlfriend. She had the kid and put it up for adoption. Two years after that, he knocked up another girl who had a kid. That one was a little boy and tragically, that boy died in a drowning accident when he was two. By that time Bobby was an adult and had already done time for boosting cars and petty theft, stuff like that. While he was visiting the correctional institution, he met a young man by the name of Dax Marshall. Dax had a father, Doc, who ran a motorcycle club and needed recruits. I think you know that story.”

“David, please.” Her brother’s love of banter was more than annoying at times like this.

“You’re such a grouch. Okay, so little brother Frank was just about five years old when Bobby joined the MC. One day Bobby went home to see him and found him all beaten up. His mother was passed out on the couch. The mother’s boyfriend was also there, high as a kite, and there was evidence, or so that’s the story, that this man molested the brother. Bobby went ballistic, killed the dude, and threatened to kill his mother before the cops got there. This time he was looking at murder, but Doc had a soft spot for Bobby and he used some of the club’s ill-gotten gains to hire Bobby a really good attorney. This attorney couldn’t get him out of the charges, but by having the judge consider the abuse both boys had endured and the fact that after being examined it turned out Frank had been molested, Bobby was only given ten years. He did seven and when he got out, he was twenty-five and little brother was eleven. Doc put Mom through rehab, and from that point until recently, I don’t have much on Frank. He kept his nose clean, at least in public. He and his wife even raised Bobby’s girl for about five years while Bobby was locked up.”

“When was that?”

“Let’s see…it would have been from the time she was seven to about twelve. Anyways, about two years ago there was a complaint filed with Children’s Services alleging that Frank was molesting one of his neighbor’s daughters.”

“How old was she?”

“Eight.”

Shit. Frank was a pervert. He molested Symone and that’s why Dax killed him. “What happened to the ‘allegation?’”

“The kid recanted and there was no physical evidence. The neighbors moved away.”

“Does he have any kids of his own?”

“Thankfully, no.”

“Good. Thank you, David.”

“You gonna tell me now what this is all about?”

“No. But I love you.”

“Can I live with you? Mickey and Sam are driving me crazy! Their hygiene went from questionable to practically nonexistent, and Kyle is mad all the time…”

“I’m sorry, David. You poor thing. You know if I could say yes, I would. But here’s an idea: why not get your own place?”

“I don’t want to be completely alone, just with someone that bathes and smiles every so often.”

She laughed. “Mickey’s always smiling.”

“I think that’s because he’s touched in the head. And, he doesn’t bathe, so there you go.”

“Sammy is just as bad, huh?”

“Yep.” Angel hadn’t spent much time with Sam since they’d been home. She’d been too busy. Sam was the quiet one of the family, content to stay in the shadows until someone had time for him.

“Maybe they’ll go out on the next boat…?”

“They signed up for the one that leaves in April. Next April, Angel!” It was barely May. Angel stifled a laugh as David said, “I’ll be touched in the head by then.”

“All I can say is that I’d start looking for an apartment if I were you. Thank you, David. You helped me out a lot today.”

“No problem. Love you, sis.”

“I love you too.” Angel ended the call and looked at the video recorder that was still on the desk, paused on the part where Dax was about to raise the gun. Was what he did legal? No. But did he deserve to go to prison for the rest of his life over killing a pedophile? No. Angel hovered her finger over the delete icon before realizing that she needed to hear what happened from Dax, or Symone, before she could, in good conscience, cover up a murder. She was happy to at least discover that she still had some sort of a conscience. She shut off the camera, tucked it back into her bag, and got back into bed. When she finally fell asleep it was to the vision of Dax’s dark blue eyes…and they were warm.

* * *

The house sat at the end of a long strip of dilapidated houses. It was forest green and the windows, what was left of them, had all been painted black. The wooden front porch was rotting away and the weeds in the front yard were four feet tall in places. There was no sign of activity inside, but four big Harleys sat parked up against what was left of a chain-link fence in the front. Dax sat in the SUV at the end of the street, looking at the house and wondering what the best way to approach it would be. Hawk wasn’t going to just lie down and die, no matter how low he’d sunk. Dax had known the old fool since he was a kid, and even when Hawk and Doc were best friends, Dax had never liked him. He thought about killing him the same way he would about stepping on a cockroach. It was one less nasty creature the world needed. He’d be doing mankind a favor. But first, he needed to understand what happened to Max, and getting Hawk to give up that information was going to be tricky.

“Dax?” Hand and Clay approached the SUV from the passenger side, announcing themselves so they didn’t get their heads blown off. Dax had the .44 Magnum in his lap and Pablo was sitting in the back holding one of the assault rifles. Nolan was standing alongside the SUV on the driver’s side with a big gun of his own. They were finally at war. It was what Hawk had always wanted and what Dax spent years trying to avoid. No matter what happened, Hawk had won that one.

“Yeah, the doors are unlocked.” The front passenger door was pulled open and then the back. Both men slid into the SUV and closed their doors. The sun was just beginning to come up, but Dax had all the lights off on the dark-colored vehicle.

“It was dark, but we counted six guys inside. It looked like they were all asleep or passed out. The smell of Mary Jane is strong up in there,” Clay said, waving a hand in front of his face. “You know I like my weed, but man, even I have a few limits.”

“Entrances?” Dax asked. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk or humor.

“Looks like the windows are probably painted shut,” Handsome said. “The back door is locked tight, looks like it has at least three deadbolts on it. There’s a door that goes from the garage into the house also. I was able to get in the garage because the door is broken, but the door that leads inside is locked tight too.”

“This’ll get us in,” Pablo said, caressing the black assault rifle he was holding like a baby in his arms.

“Odds are it’ll also get a few of us dead,” Dax said. “You guys want to play those odds?” There was dead silence in the car. “But it’s not looking like we have many options. I need Hawk alive, though, and if we go in there shooting, that might not happen.”

“I can see that old fat man through the living room window,” Clay said. “He’s asleep on one of the couches in there.”

“Where are the rest of them?”

“There’s one asleep in the recliner across from Hawk and the other four are on bedrolls or sleeping bags in the back room.”

“Okay, we go in the front door. Take out the recliner guy as soon as we’re in. Pablo, you and I grab Hawk and get him out of there while the rest of you continue to the bedroom. It’s the best we’re going to be able to do.”

“Do I get a gun?” the prospect asked. The kid was barely nineteen years old.

“Not until you get a patch,” Dax told him. “You wait here and keep the car running. All that shooting is going to draw the Mounties. We’ll need to get out of here fast. Leave the back end open so we can toss the fat bastard in before we take off. Any questions? Anyone?”

They all shook their heads. Dax looked at each of their faces and said, “Lately, this shit hasn’t been going so well for us. This morning we cannot afford to make any mistakes. I cannot afford to lose any more men, and as a club, we need to understand what happened to Max. Okay?” They all made some sound of agreement. Dax checked his gun to make sure it was loaded. He’d already done that three times. He pushed open his door, and he didn’t have to say another word; the men all followed him. They didn’t try to hide this time. They walked down the broken sidewalk with their weapons in their hands and up onto the porch. Dax aimed his gun at the deadbolts on the door and with two shots, obliterated them. The next five minutes were chaotic, and deadly.

The man in the recliner sat up and Nolan shot him in the chest. Hawk stayed lying down, but his eyes were wide open and shining with fear in the dark. Meanwhile Clay and Handsome had gone down the hallway, and it was only seconds later when the rest heard shots being fired from that direction. Dax and Pablo each grabbed hold of Hawk, who looked like he wasn’t quite awake at first. By the time they got him to the door, however, he was twisting and kicking and trying to bite. Dax stopped walking and took the arm Pablo was holding, put it together with the one he held onto, and forced Hawk to put them behind his back. Dax not only felt but heard something snap near the old man’s right elbow. Hawk screamed out loud and suddenly went from cussing to begging. Dax and Pablo finished dragging him outside, and they half-dragged/half-carried him the rest of the way to the SUV as he alternated between begging for his life and telling Dax to go fuck himself.

He started fighting again when they got to the SUV and he realized they were putting him in the back. Dax brought up his gun and let it slam down hard on the back of Hawk’s head. He instantly went limp, and thankfully, silent. The two men picked up the heavy, smelly biker and put him into the back of the SUV. Dax grabbed the duct tape out of the kit they’d brought and quickly wrapped up Hawk’s wrists and ankles with it. Then he tore a piece off and put it across Hawk’s big mouth. By the time he slammed the door down, the rest of the guys were back…all alive and unharmed. It got loud in the car again as they all climbed in, ecstatic about the “gunfight.”

“Where are we taking him, brother?” Hand asked Dax as he started up the car.

“You remember that overlook we rode past on the way up here?”

Handsome nodded and smiled. “Nice and secluded. You’re going to kill him, right? After you get what you need out of him, of course.”

“Yes, I’m going to kill that old bastard.” I might just kill him exactly the same way he killed Max. But first Dax needed two things from him, and he didn’t care what he had to do in order to get it.