Classic Novel
Chapter 22 (Zero)
Chapter 22 (Zero)
“Why would Lucca bring her all the way to Houston, Seattle is fuck far from where she and Kylie were,
but a lot closer to us, and then he leaves Kylie in DC, it doesn't make a lot of sense, don't get it, won't it
have been smarter to just take them to New Orleans.”
Mercy shares her thoughts to Knight and After as she ties up her long red hair.
The woman always likes things to make sense.
If it doesn't then she goes digging until it does. Cost the club a lot of enemies along the years. But we
always stand behind family.
“It's symbolic, Washington is one of the Catelli's main territories, their Capo Vincent Stone runs it.
Kylie's his. And Amariya belongs to Lucca. Her father lives in Austin, the warehouse we found her in
was barely an hour away from Austin. Lucca is convinced his daughter is alive and would be with
Amariya's father. Remember River said the Italian he tortured a few months back said he was going to
take her and the kid to New Orleans?” Knight explains to us as he used to belong to the Famiglia years
ago.
And like Beggar he has a dark story and even darker, more deadly secret that could be catastrophic to
his family, so he came here, a new identity, and a new life.
“Yeah, Lucca is obsessed with her, don't blame the cunt either chick gives off the vibes,” After
announces.
I roll my eyes at After's bluntness.
“He was probably gonna seek sanctuary across the border.” I muse, it seems logical, it is what I would
do.
“Come on let's get that arm sorted before the anesthesia wears off,” Mercy flicks my arm and I follow
her inside the hotel.
We get to the eighth floor, the orange carpets are bright and makes the white doors stand out, making it
easy for even a drunk person to find their room door.
We knock on the door with the 804 metal sign screwed to the door.
Gizbee opens the door for us and we step in. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
The room is relatively large. Ribs stand by the silver blinds with his vein protruding arms crossed, harsh
lines and deeply tanned skin from spending his life on the road, make him more of the formidable
leader I know him to be.
He gives me a chin lift as I walk into the room. River is beside Beggar with his fingers around her wrist
checking her pulse.
Killer is on my right by the single desk that is next to the mounted flat screen, eyes on his phone.
His chain on his leather pants and rings are all back on his fingers.
He never does anything serious with the jewelry on. Sometimes I think it is a shield, something he uses
to try and distinguish The Ghost from himself.
Beggar moves her barefoot on the orange and brown comforter. Ribs leaves his position by the window
and goes to her side.
I still stand by the door, watching the national president as he pulls out his phone from his denim pocket
and puts it to his ear.
Mercy goes somewhere to the back of the room, thinks it is the bathroom and comes back with a cereal
bowl filled with water.
“Come on, that arm looks like shit, let's get the bullet out and stitch you up.”
I look at Beggar as her other leg moves, her hair fanned out behind her, her dirt-covered face is
scrunched in a slight frown.
Her eyes open and they look right at me, and it takes Mercy pulling me away to drop my gaze to the
floor.
“She's up and safe, she's not your family's problem any longer, as agreed Amariya DeMarco is dead,
and Beggar is property of The Satan Sniper's, I owe you and your family nothing,” Rib says to whoever
he is talking to on the phone.
“Take your cut out, I'm going to have to cut open your sleeve, it's sticking to the wound,” Mercy says,
producing a black handle hunter's knife from her cargo pants.
I do as I'm told and she turns her back to me and busies herself with putting cotton wool in some water
and grabbing the bottle of whiskey.
“So what's the story with you two. One minute I hear you fucking Falon, then next you claiming
Beggar's ass, now you with the new girl.” I flinch at the way she says it, sounds fucked up even for me.
“She tried to kill my brother,” I say in answer as Mercy turns around and grabs my arm.
“Maybe you need to find out why she wanted him dead before you brand her as bad news, don't know
the girl, but from the little I do know, she must have a reason, not saying she is innocent, but everybody
deserves a benefit of doubt, especially a girl like her.”
I hiss as Mercy pours the whiskey over the gunshot. It feels like fucking ever waiting for her to burn the
tweezers. She pours more alcohol on my wound, then digs in and pulls out the bullet.
I groan, it is fucking sore.
“Don't be a pussy Zeezee, it ain't so bad.” I glare up at After who is standing by the bathroom door
flicking that fucking knife smiling at seeing me in discomfort.