Forty-Two
Leo
Hours and hours and fucking hours.
Leo paced the hospital hallways, never straying too far from Skye, but knowing very well that she was preoccupied with Roy, easing him as he fell apart. Leo didn’t give a fuck for his pain, but he felt the fresh loss like a gaping wound in his centre. Kayla was a good woman. She had been dealt a shitty hand in life. She did not deserve to die.
Shane communicated stealthily through the grapevine, accessing information the bikers were not yet privy to. The whispers from those that had seen her body. She’d been strangled and stabbed feet from Hunter. That much Shane had gathered. The rest was murky because where was Hunter when this happened, what was he doing, and had she been killed only because she was in close proximity to the real target?
“Was this my father’s doing?” Leo demanded once more on the phone, his tone low as he glanced around him, making sure no one could overhear him.
“I don’t think so,” Shane responded on the other end. “Your father is not this grizzly—”
“He was when he ordered those men to shoot up that clubhouse all those years ago,” Leo cut in coldly. “He is grizzly when he wants to be.”
“But to go after Hunter? For what reason?” Shane returned swiftly. “It is likelier that Hunter slipped up along the way and made an enemy. He is a hothead, Leo, and his reputation has been spreading far and wide.”
Yeah, they were saying Hunter was a murderous savage. That he killed a bunch of people for looking at him in a way he did not like. That he set a house on fire with people in it.
It was all spectacular bullshit.
“I need more whispers,” Leo urged now. “More weasels, Shane. Throw whatever amount of cash in enough people’s faces and tell me what comes back.”
“Starting where?”
“At the trailer park where it happened.”
“You think someone’s seen something?”
“I’m positive somebody did.”
There was no way in hell someone could slip into Hunter’s home without anybody knowing about it. They weren’t attacked in the dead of night. No, whoever was behind this struck when the sun was still setting.
“I’m on it,” Shane told him.
By the time Leo returned to Skye’s side in the waiting room, Roy was staring hollowly at a spot on the wall. His pain was all gone and replaced by a cold set of eyes that promised bloodshed. They flickered to meet Leo’s, and for a few moments they watched each other. Leo shoved his hands into his pockets, striding across the room to rest his back against the wall, all the while never breaking from the stare.
“Don’t stand in our way,” Roy growled out suddenly, his voice hoarse and raspy.
Leo’s lips flinched up in a menacing smile. “Don’t stand in mine.”
Skye glanced between them, looking weary, like she understood the words that were left unspoken. They were going to race to find the culprit before the other did and destroy them. Roy’s eyes were loaded with warning as he demanded, “Those souls aremineto take, boy, not yours.”
Leo didn’t respond. Let the fucker think that way, he didn’t care because it wouldn’t stop Leo from trying.
Skye stood up to go to him, but he pushed off from the wall and strolled out of the waiting room. He could not face her—not when he was feeling the way he was.
Ravenous for blood.
For revenge.
Leo did not have it in him to play the perfect fucking gentleman.