Page 86 of Kane
Once he got all the blood out from under his fingernails, he figured he was as clean as he was going to get. He wrapped a towel around his waist and finger-combed what was left of his hair. Too late, he realized he had no clothes here. But Scott did. Kane dressed in a pair of his brother’s jeans and a flannel still carrying a hint of Scott’s favorite cologne.
He carried the garbage bag into the backyard and tossed it into the big metal trash can. A quick squirt of lighter fluid, then he lit the contents ablaze. Neither the smoke nor the smell would turn any heads. This was the same way they’d burned leaves for years.
Ignoring the icy burn on his bare feet, Kane stayed outside until the bag and everything inside turned to ash. If only he could rid himself of the entire night the same way.
He trudged back into the house, exhaustion weighing on him like an anvil on his back. Spotting no soft place to lie down, he shuffled into the chapel and curled up on top of the table; his mother’s favorite afghan became his pillow. He blacked out the second his eyes closed.
A gentle shake from Mama V brought him back to the surface. “KC?” she rasped. “Wake up, baby. Your father wants to meet.”
“What time is it?” he mumbled. Or he tried to say it. It came out more like a mishmash of sounds.
Still, his mom seemed to understand. “It’s three o’clock. C’mon in the kitchen. We’ve got some pizza.”
His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since…nope, he wasn’t thinking about his meal at the Coopers. Nodding his head, he answered with a grunt.
She grasped his hand and led him toward the savory smell of the food. The men stood around the room, eating somberly. He grabbed a slice and downed it in silence.
Mama V stood behind Malcolm, who sat at the table. She kneaded his shoulders as she spoke. “Cue Ball is doing okay. The doctors had to do surgery this morning. One of the bullets punctured his intestine. They were really worried about infection, but they cut the bad piece out and put it back together again. They’ve got to watch him closely for signs of sepsis, but they think he’s going to recover.”
It didn’t sound like he’d made it completely out of the woods yet, but Cue Ball was a fighter. If anyone could pull through this, he could. “Is someone there with him? What about Frank?”
His mother kept her eyes on the back of Malcolm’s head as she spoke. “Desiree hasn’t left the hospital. She’s staying as close as the doctors will let her. As for Frank, we’re letting him get some sleep in one of the bedrooms. He only got back a couple of hours ago. The bullet went straight through, so the doctors patched him up pretty quick. He got tied up for a while dealing with the cops. I have a feeling they’ll be by here before the day is up to ask some more questions.”
Kane grabbed another lukewarm slice from the pizza box. “Did everyone burn their clothes? Ditch the guns?” There shouldn’t be any other evidence in the clubhouse.
Malcolm nodded. “Those of us who stayed back last night took care of it all this morning.”
“What about the safehouse? There could be something there linking back to us.” There were too many variables.
Scratch spoke. “I lit it up before we left last night. Torched the van too. Cops will find the bodies, maybe some shell casings, but nothing will tie ‘em back to the club.”
“So, we have justice,” Pete said grimly.
Kane pulled a water bottle out of the refrigerator. “No.” He took a gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “David Bennett and Billy Meers. They’ve got a hand in this.” He didn’t mention Mandy’s father. He wasn’t ready to share every detail with the club.
Malcolm jumped to his feet, forcing Mama V to stumble back. “Meers? You know this for a fact?”
“It was the last thing Sergei said before his brains met the wall.” He paused, waiting for the enormity of killing a man to hit him, but…nothing. “The Soldiers were in queue to take over the guns from us. They’re the ones who tipped off the Russians we were selling to Ace.”
“I’m gonna kill him.” Malcolm’s teeth clenched so tightly, his words were almost unintelligible. He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end. After a deep drag, he laughed darkly. “No. I’m gonna gut his son right in front of him. Then I’m gonna kill him.”
Kane had no objection. He wanted to burn the whole goddamn world.
Frank stumbled in, his left arm in a sling. “Whatever you guys are planning, I’m in.”
“No offense, brother, but you look like a stiff wind could knock you over.” He shook his head.
Frank opened his mouth to argue, then stood with his jaw hanging open. “The fuck you do to your hair, man?”
He ran his hand over the shaggy, uneven pieces. “Yeah, well, I guess I missed my chance at a modeling career.” The scar on his cheek pulled tight with his mocking smile. “Last time I checked, though, I didn’t need to be pretty to get justice for my brother’s murder.”
Mama V choked back a sob at the stark reminder. She looked like a ghostly shell of herself, her hair unteased and no make-up on her face. Without her high heels, she seemed so much smaller.
And, he realized grimly, this would be the first year she’d miss the after-Christmas sale to shop for his father.
“We need to strike before they realize we’re onto them,” he said briskly. “But first, we need a plan.”
Maybeplanwas too strong of a word. They only needed an alibi, a time, and a formation. The location of the club’s headquarters was common knowledge. They were likely too cocky to be concerned about retaliation, but he didn’t want to take chances with the brothers he had left standing.