She is a good person, and I’m the fucked up asshole.
What could I have prevented if I had taken the time to observe my father’s home and learn about the female in the letter? Learn about the town and take note? I could have hunted like I normally do, watching my prey, learning them, but instead, years of rage consumed me. It was like a bullet train of emotions that took the reins.
I let out a grunt of disgust at my actions.
I went hell-for-leather and assumed the worst straight off the cuff, knowing what William was capable of. I didn’t stop to connect any dots and think maybe there was more to the person he left his inheritance to.
I instantly thought the worst.
It took over eight months to send me the news of his death because Whisper was always gonna be the target. He could not let Whisper have her freedom, even when he died. He needed her to be punished and dealt with, and I was the perfect assassin.
The son who’d been wronged.
He was a proud peacock even in death, strutting about and preening his feathers in front of me.
He knew I would be infuriated by his decision.
It was a trap.
I walked right into it, without question.
Rage had blinded me.
I’d had two parents at one stage. I had been told my mother had fled and left me. She had to have been desperate to leave me with him.
She had to have been.
Was it all lies?
Or was she dead by his hands?
Will I ever know?
I’ve only ever believed one thing because he told me. I was young and blisteringly angry and didn’t want to learn more. He planted the seed and let it fester.
I fucking hated my mother.
Now, I wonder if I should be mourning the loss of her?
This epiphany hits me hard. So many questions I need answers to.
I want to learn more about Whisper. I want to fight for her life. Kidnapping a baby and forcing her to live her life with him under his demands was cruel. She had parents.
Did he kill them?
I look out the window, trying to slow down all these thoughts that are flickering in and out. My foot’s painful, and I’m chewing on pills like breath mints so I can think straight. Ivory knew what he was doing shooting me in the foot, putting me out of commission long enough to get Whisper clean away, just in case I had any thoughts of taking off after them. Ivory had better start running when he sees me, because I’ll be gunning for that cocksucker first, and then Ebony.
While I’ve sat back here for hours, something’s been bothering me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it until now. I place my hand inside my leather jacket and find the hidden pocket, pulling out Whisper’s envelope.
My hot head hadn’t absorbed the information at the time. I was shot, my head had been bashed, and then I discovered I had hurt an innocent woman who was two people in my mind. She had revealed in her letter to me that the lawyer had only just hand-delivered the letter stating the inheritance left to her that day, and apologized for the misunderstanding.
This is what has been bothering me, laying low in my mind. I can’t remember the name of the lawyer firm on my letter. I need to know the lawyer’s name who spoke to her because she doesn’t state it in the letter she wrote to me, Dallas Dupré. Only that it would all be sorted out shortly. There were two different surnames of mine on both our letters. I needed to know what else didn’t match. It feels like one is a possible decoy because one wouldn’t want me coming after them if I found out I was being played.
What the fuck is going on?
I was so full of steam I didn’t think to bring mine with me. I had put the address of my father’s house in my phone, and that was it. I was hightailing it out of Albuquerque without looking back. I didn’t need to know anything other than my destination and to find the female responsible for taking my inheritance. It seemed cut-and-dried at the time.
“Motherfucker!” I curse loudly, pounding the side of the car door with my fist.
“Edge?” The old lady looks at me with caution in the rearview mirror.
“Eyes on the road and keep driving.” I’m sharp with her because there are too many unanswered questions floating about in my head. I try to gentle my next response. “We may have another lead. I need to make a call to my president.” I want some information off my letter. It may be a lead I can pursue, especially if nothing turns up at this airfield.
I was never meant to see Whisper’s letter. This was not accounted for in my father’s far-fetched fantasy world of assumptions he’d played out in his mind prior to his untimely death. I was never meant to see the discrepancy.
The insane son-of-a-bitch was trying to role-play us. What kind of person does that?
Now, another puppet master wants his pound of flesh to be taken out on Whisper’s soul.
I pull Whisper’s phone out and put in the code to let Hazard know I’m about to call, and I wait for him to respond before I proceed.
“Hazard… Yeah, I’m good. Need a favor. Can you get one of the boys to get into my house and locate a letter on my kitchen table? Just need the full details off of it. It’s from a lawyer firm. Get him to text it through on this number. It’s safe.” He asks me how everything is going. I reply with, “Fucked up.”
He offers to send Lethal and Blueblood out, but I decline. Hazard knew things had gone beyond complicated, but he didn’t push me.
I was a tough fucker, and he respected that.
Soulless Bastards were brothers who fought for each other.
We were family.
We died for each other.
I was too fucking stubborn to accept his offer at the moment, because then this toxic can-of-worms on my soul would be wriggling all over my body, burrowing into places I didn’t need revisiting.
Ever.
It’s all locked down.
I know how to be the person I had become. I wear it like a full body suit of armor. It fits well. I don’t need any chinks in it, but I know I will be asking soon. I just need a bit more time to figure out what I’m dealing with and how deep it goes.
“What you be doin’ for your motorcycle club, Edge?” The old lady breaks through my demons.
Ahh, hell, here we go. Somebody’s been eavesdropping enough to start getting up in my business.
I let out a sigh. I thought we were going to make it to the abandoned airfield in peace until the old lady’s need for chatter starts up, her silent thoughts stroking her curiosity to know more.
“I’m their enforcer.”
She looks at me in the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised. “Meaning?”
I’m not a good guy.
“I enforce bylaws, among other things.”
“You have killed for your club?”
More than you want to know.
I rub my hand over my beat up face. “Club law is different to civilian law. I do what needs to be done when we are wronged.”
“You choose to kill for a living?”
Yeah, and I’m fucking good at it.
“We’ve already ascertained I’m ex-military, which means I killed for a living. Our government’s military told me who to kill, and I did because there is a war going on. It’s acceptable in that environment.”
She stays silent, letting me rant.
“If it helps your wellbeing, I don’t go killing innocent people.” Saying those words, I know what she must be thinking about Whisper. “Not deliberately,” I add on for the old lady’s sake.
“Why you be choosin’ a biker gang over military?” The rest of what I know she wants to say goes unsaid.
Because I watched good men die in front of me, while I lived.