Jeremiah won’t find a hole big enough to bury himself in that we won’t be able to find him, and dig his ass up out of.
The fact that he’s probably gloating right now, thinking he was victorious, makes me violently sick to my stomach.
It will be my life’s mission to find him.
Torture him.
And ultimately end him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Star
A little over thirty minutes ago, both Country and Malice’s surgeons came and spoke with us. Neither one of their surgeries went off with flying colors, they both suffered some complications. The next forty-eight hours are critical for Country and his survival rate. His surgery was touch and go, they had to use life saving measures three damn times.
Country fucking died three times on the operating table! What kind of repercussions will he face from such an endeavor? His brain lost oxygen too many times to know if he’ll be inadvertently affected for the rest of his life from that. The doctor listed several fucking things that could come from that complication. Seizures, stuttering, loss of memory, loss of motor function, the list seemed to be a mile long and never ending.
Malice, dear fucking God, they nearly had to amputate his arm. They were able to save the limb at the end, but he’s going to need extensive physical therapy and may suffer nerve damage. Which means, he may never be able to ride and shoot again. Not being able to ride his hog is a death sentence for an MC’er. It’s not only his livelihood, but it’s the call of the open road that makes his life complete.
Both of these men’s lives could end up being drastically changed. One moment in time, one man’s ultimate revenge, will irrevocably change the club as an entirety.
These men, who vowed their love and protection to me and my daughter, are the ones paying the ultimate price for their devotion to those they consider family. If I thought I felt hatred and loathing for Jeremiah before, that feeling has grown beyond words written in the English dictionary. There is no definition for the emotions running through me.
Charlee was adamant about staying by Country’s side. Texas and Jessia both refused to leave Malice. A few men stayed behind to guard them while the rest of us head back home. The kids are cranky, the men are furious, and the women… well, we’re all numb.
When we reach the clubhouse, there are rows of cars sitting in the parking lot. “That’s Ma and Pops and Pops’ men,” Shamus explains to me. I guess my curious glance captured his attention. “Pops and Zero were raised together, they were more than just club brothers. This is gonna fuck him up for a long time.”
“I can only imagine,” I agree. “I only knew him for a short amount of time, and it’s eating me up inside.”
“None of this is your fault, you know,” he says out of the blue. He turns to me in the seat and looks me firmly in the eyes. “I can read you like an open book, Star. I know the guilt you’re placing on your shoulders. This all lies on Jeremiah, not you.”
“I can’t help but feel as if I brought this trouble to your doorstep, Shamus,” I sigh.
“He may have been angered about losing you ladies, but he never came after us for that. I think this act of revenge was solely for us taking Jamie’s life. And that was going to happen with or without you in our lives. Jamie was a dead man walking, you just helped us find him a little sooner is all,” he goes on to explain.
“I hate him, Shamus,” I express with a sob of despair. “I want him dead; I want him out of all of our lives.”
“I guarantee you that’s going to happen, Star. He stepped over a line that there’s no coming back from for him. He was already on our radar, now he’s gonna have a price on his head. And not only from us, but from Pops as well.”
“Good,” I say, nodding my head.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go spend some time with our family,” Shamus says, placing his hand over my fidgeting one. We grab Ella, who’s sound asleep in the back seat, and head inside to join the others.
Shamus
It’s been a week since the shooting. Both Country and Malice pulled through, but have extensive, hard therapy ahead of them. Malice has feeling in his fingers and hand which is a damn good sign.
Country now has a slight stutter with his speech, he’s still in a lot of pain and is on a heavy dose of pain medication, but ultimately, he’s expected to eventually make a full recovery.
Pops has declared war, but it’s being pushed aside until we can lay Zero to rest. We’ve been pushing it off, wanting Country and Malice to be able to be present, but it looks like they’ll both be hospitalized for the next six to eight weeks.
Whereas we all want to be there, to pay tribute to our fallen brother, we also can’t leave our brothers vulnerable and exposed. Texas, Curley, Master, Polo and Tracker have made the ultimate sacrifice and have chosen to guard our recovering brothers’ hospital rooms.
As for the rest of us, today is the day we send our fallen soldier, our brother in arms, to his final resting place. It’s fitting that it’s a cloudy day and that rain is in the day’s weather forecast. Even the heavens are mourning our loss beside us.
We’re all dressed head to toe in black, it’s fitting for the somber mood that’s encompassing the clubhouse. Not a word is spoken as we make our way out to our bikes to head for the small chapel that will be carrying out Zero’s funeral. It’s been many years since we’ve had to lay a brother to rest. Even then, I was a small child and didn’t
