Pocketing the letter, Lucas stared at the man in his arms. His best friend was dead, and the man responsible was Alan Lynch. He’d never heard of the man before. Wiping the tears from his face with the hand not covered in blood, he looked around him. Fuck, he didn’t know if there were any witnesses.
“Prue.”
Dumping the body in the hotel room, he climbed on his bike and rode for Prue. He knew some guys who’d keep her protected. Trevor wouldn’t lie about her protection. She would need to disappear. Tears fell down his face, but he ignored them. There was no time to cry or think about his dead friend. Fuck, Trevor was dead.
The time passed quickly as he made his way toward Prue and Trevor’s house. When he saw the light on in her bedroom, he parked the bike. What was he supposed to do? Protect Prue, and then deal with everything else. A dead body left in a hotel room was going to get way too much attention.
You can do this.
Getting to the porch he found the key hidden in the plant pot. Many years he’d known the two and they still hid a spare key in the plant pot. Letting himself inside, he called out Prue’s name. Should he get The Skulls involved? They’d know what to do. The moment the thought occurred, he rejected it. He was a prospect, and he didn’t want to bring this kind of shit to them. Within minutes she appeared at the top of the stairs looking ruffled.
“Lucas, what the f**k?” she asked, rubbing at her eyes. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and was clearly struggling to see. Prue had been wearing glasses for as long as he could remember. “What are you doing here?”
“You’ve got to get dressed and pack your shit up. We need to move. I don’t know how long we’ve got before they come,” he said, going into the kitchen. Trevor hadn’t been particularly clear on how long he had to get her safe. Lucas didn’t want to waste unnecessary time.
“Leave, Lucas, what the f**k?” She repeated her words making her way down to him.
“Trevor is dead,” he said, forcing the words out between gritted teeth. “He’s in serious trouble. You didn’t f**king tell me he was in serious trouble.”
“He said he was fine. Shit. I knew I should have asked him more. He was always so quiet, and he wouldn’t bring anyone back to the house.” Prue ran fingers through her hair. She was nineteen years old. Their parents had died in a fatal shooting when she was fifteen. None of them lived near Fort Wills at the time, and it was only a year ago when Trevor had got this house for her to live in, finally moving them out of their parents’ old place. Trevor had taken responsibility for her, and Zero helped bring her up since she was fifteen. Neither of them would let her go into care.
“You need to leave,” he said.
“Who was he working for? He wouldn’t tell me, but I know he’d tell you.”
Should he tell her? What harm would it really do? Trevor had already put her in more danger.
“Alan Lynch.”
She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. “No, he wouldn’t. How the f**k could he do something like that?”
“He worked for him and got killed for it. I need you to move.” Once Alan’s name was mentioned, Lucas didn’t need to fight her to move her ass. Prue packed up everything she needed, taking birth certificates and the necessary documents. When she was packed and on the back of his bike, he rode to a safe house he knew. The city was perfect for getting rid of folk who needed to disappear. With his focus on keeping Prue safe, he could stop thinking about the pain of losing his best friend.
Lucas bundled her away with an old friend who specialized in fake identities. He knew a lot of people to help him. It was one of the reasons why Butch was securing him a position at The Skulls. They could use him to help them.
He organized for Prue to disappear and that he’d come for her when he was ready. She didn’t want him to go, but he had no choice. He wasn’t finished with his own kind of business. Leaving her alone, he went back to the hotel where Trevor was lying, decaying, dead. Nothing would bring him back. His best friend was dead, never coming back to drink with him. No, I can’t allow that to happen, but it’s too late, and there’s nothing I can do. Alan Lynch had guaranteed that. Trevor was gone.
Staring at him on the bed, Lucas couldn’t think of a single thing to say to his one true friend. The pain engulfed him, threatening to tear him in two. He let the tears fall not caring how weak it made him feel. His best friend was dead. The words kept ringing through his head, and he couldn’t believe it. An hour later, his cell phone rang.
“Where the f**k are you?” Butch asked.
“I’ve got stuff to do.”
“What do you mean you’ve got stuff to do? Your life is the club. Lash and Nash are picking up the f**king slack. Get your ass back here.”
Lucas was silent as he listened to his other friend berate him. “Butch, can I ask you something?”
“Sure. I’ve got all f**king day for questions. Why not fire them at me?”
Staring at Trevor, he felt the will to do something that would get him killed. “If someone you cared about was killed, what would you do?”
“I’d kill the bastard dead, Lucas. No one f**ks with me and gets away with it, and that means you. I’ve not been patched in that long, but the way you’re going you’re going to get me f**king killed,” Butch said.
“You’d kill them?”
“Yes, no one f**ks with me.”
Lucas knew what he had to do. “There’s something I’ve got to do this weekend. I’ll be back on Monday.”
Hanging up the phone, he looked at Trevor. The only thing he could do was get rid of the body. He went to the gas station and loaded up a can. Inside Trevor’s room, he poured the petrol all over the body and across the hotel room. Striking the match, he left the room to burn, getting on his bike to make his way to the city.
****
For the last twenty-four hours, Lucas had watched and gathered as much information as possible from everyone who hated Alan Lynch. Considering the man’s power, he didn’t have anyone who wanted to stick by his side. Most of the people Lucas spoke to were more than happy to give shit up for the man. Lucas knew Alan would be visiting his club, Pleasures, tonight. Pleasures was where he was going to get the man he needed. Leaving his bike and leather cut in a secure holding, he rented out a van.
Lucas made all the arrangements to guarantee he’d get what he needed. The letter in his jacket still lay there unopened. Trevor had written him a letter, his last words. Lucas wasn’t ready to read them yet. First, he needed to get a little payback.