Trying to be fair.
Far as he knew, those assholes hadn’t done a thing yet.
They were boys trying to play at being men.
But letting them live… he’d made the wrong decision.
His Zara would forever worry she was going to see the Raging Rebels insignia around every corner. Putting her mentally in that place once more, she’d worked too hard with her therapy to be pushed back.
Zara thought he was a good man. She wouldn’t hate him for letting those men live. But he wasn’t good, was he? He could get as dirty and as evil, as needed.
Drumming his fingers on the ancient table where every Souls decision was made, he didn’t feel much like the Prez. He was thinking entirely as a husband.
Too much was vying for his attention in his brain.
Didn’t matter that he was dead. Hades always made a comeback, like a goddamn monster in a horror movie. And even though she pretended she was fine, he knew differently. He knew Zara inside and out. Could read her every mood and mannerism. What she wasn’t saying when she told him she was fine.
Goddammit, he hated that fucking word, wanted to shoot it out of existence.
If she was scared, she wasn’t fine. And it was down to him to make it right for her. As her man, the buck stopped at his feet.
“I keep failing her.” He spoke and was surprised at his emotionally angry voice. Fingers tightened on the bottle, and he drained it in one.
“Zara? That’s bullshit.”
Rider locked eyes with his VP. “I was the one who kicked her out, remember? Look what happened to her for three-fuckin’-years.”
“She got a scare, that’s all. She’s stronger than she was; she isn’t gonna let something like this hold her down. You know it.”
She was strong, so fucking strong was his Zara.
Loving her felt like a disease sometimes. This huge thing inside him, growing out of control. He loved her until he felt mad with it. He’d kill for her, no question.
But he hadn’t, had he?
“You were the one who killed Hades.”
“Any of us would have taken our shot at him. I was in the right place.”
“Shoulda been me. I’m her man, and I keep fuckin’ failing her.”
Hawk wasn’t the type to indulge him, tell him shit that wasn’t true, and Rider was grateful of it. They sat in silence, a six-pack of beers disappearing between them. Hawk lit up a blunt, toked a few times, and then passed it to Rider. He took it automatically, smoking half before giving it back. The smoke went directly into his blood, calming the rage within.
But not by much.
Because he knew, giving those few Rebels room to grow, he’d fucked up. Made the wrong choice.
Giving second chances wasn’t who Rider fucking Marinos was.
He wasn’t a fair man, not when someone had crossed him.
Those fuckers might not have been the ones to hold his woman down and rape her, but by choosing to wear the Rebels name, they were guilty by proxy.
The more he chewed on it, the colder he grew inside.
They wore Hades’ insignia. Following in his footsteps.
They were Raging Rebels.
And he’d let them live.
The head of the table was his spot.
Where he ruled.
And governed his MC.
He set out the laws.
He said what could happen in his town, and now his woman felt violated all over again.
This wasn’t right.
This wasn’t fucking right.
The chair went out from underneath him as he stood, pushing it back with force, it bounced into the wall.
Hawk didn’t look at all surprised as he flipped his bottomless death-like eyes up at him and rose at a slower pace.
Hawk knew him. Inside and out.
Could anticipate Rider’s every move.
Proving it by asking. “We gonna go kill them then?”
“Yes.” Rider answered without hesitation.
Yeah, he was gonna kill them all.
Cut off the beast’s head before it could grow into a nightmare again.
His job wasn’t fun. It was following through with decisions no one else wanted to. The bad and the downright despicable decisions.
And he’d keep killing until every person who got the smart idea to put on a Raging Rebels cut in the future, sending a message they were taking their last breaths if that was their choice.
It would leave no one alive to put Hades’ organization into fruition again.
Not a worshipper of that mad fuck.
Relative, son or brother.
He’d kill them all without care.
Meeting Hawk’s eyes, he saw his VP and friend were on the same page.
“Do I need to call in the others?”
“No.” he answered, “you and me.”
“Fine by me. Let me call Gia.” Killing was nothing for Hawk, just like picking steak out of his teeth. And for once, Rider was grateful for his VP’s give no fucks attitude with ending a life.
He had to make a call too to Zara, and then to make sure Pretty-Boy could stay with her at the house. Fuck. His parents were there too.
And his father would smell trouble a mile off.
Dragging hands through his hair, Rider caught it in a messy heap and tied it back off his face. Hawk stepped out of the church to call his old lady, so Rider grabbed his phone and connected with his girl within a few rings.
Her voice, sweet as candy, went through him, hitting him square in the heart.
She was the other half of him; he did not doubt it.
If a man lacking in scruples and unethical as him could deserve her, then he knew she was his soulmate.
“My biker-man,” she smiled with her voice. “Only thirteen days, wheeee!”
He grinned. Fucking loved this woman until he ached with want for her. “Icy-baby, gonna be a few hours yet,
