Chapter Thirty
AYDA
Everything seemed to just stop. Even the pounding beat of my heart slowed to a crawl as I held Eric, now panting with pain, upright as we knelt together under the altar he’d been strung up on
Eric Tucker was Rubin’s father?
He’d slept with Carolyn Walsh?
Drew’s eyes were on Eric, even while his grip around Walsh’s neck stayed unrelenting. It took me a moment to realize that Travis didn’t seem as surprised as the rest of us were, and if he was in any way shocked, he hid the emotion well. Trigger crouched close to the mayor and Drew, his forearms resting on his knees as he studied the two men with a triumphant smirk on his twisted mouth.
I hated Travis Gatlin even more at that moment because I realized a few important things about him. The man had no honor to speak of. He certainly had no morals. And more importantly, I knew he wouldn’t ever stop this war of his.
Travis cared about nothing but satisfying his sick need to break everything in his path. Whether that obstacle was a man in high standing like Mayor Walsh, a rival president like Drew or Eric, or one of his own men. Trigger’s only objective was towin by any means necessary, and he wasn’t a go around the mountain kind of guy. He would always choose to go through, to take down everything in his path until there was nothing left and the whole world was leveled under his boots.
The worst part was that he seemed to enjoy it.
“The way I see it, this is all the more reason to kill this worthless motherfucker, Tucker.”
Trigger pointed at Walsh casually with one finger, but his eyes were on Drew, waiting for a reaction, knowing that this revelation would only complicate things further.
Drew stared at Travis, his mouth tight before he looked back at Eric in disbelief. “Rubin? He’s my brother?” he asked, his voice one I barely recognized. It was so soft and almost innocent-like. A harsh contrast to the broken, bleeding man who looked capable of being nothing but murderous toward the person in his grip.
My heart ached for him. The hits were coming one after the other lately, and as much as I wanted to go to Drew, to help in some way, I knew that we were in the middle of a fight for our lives and that wouldn’t be welcomed. Instead, I helped Eric straighten as much as he was capable, encouraging him to respond while my eyes moved to Trigger.
Eric sucked in a breath and nodded once at Drew.
“So many secrets. So many lies,” Trigger whispered, enjoying every minute.
Drew’s attention snapped back to him. “You shut the fuck up, Travis before you find yourself trading places with Walsh.”
Trigger laughed roughly and held up his hands, mocking Drew as he pretended to concede.
Drew looked down at Walsh, the muscles in Drew’s arms popping as he used all his strength to pin the mayor down. It seemed like his whole body was shaking as he stared down into his eyes. “Is this true?” he ground out.
“Y-yes,” Walsh croaked, struggling to grab a full breath asDrew pressed down.
“Fuck!” Drew snapped, removing his hand from Walsh’s neck at once. Walsh reached up to touch his throat, his red face on the verge of turning purple, and he managed to pull in a rough breath, the sound of it harsh, forcing him to wheeze and cough.
Drew knelt over him, the heels of his bloody hands pressing into his own forehead.
His head had been in the fight, his guard up and walls in place, but now his thoughts were elsewhere, on a boy who was probably sitting in The Hut, wondering if the man he thought was his father was still alive.
“Finish what you started, Tucker.”
Dropping his fists to his thighs, Drew opened his closed eyes and glanced at Trigger. He rolled his chin back and forth, studying the Nav in front of him. Then he glanced at me, at Eric, finally settling on Mayor Walsh beneath him.
“I should…” he began quietly, flexing his fingers out before curling them back into tight, bloody fists. “I should finish what I started. I want to. I want to end this son of a bitch’s life for everything he’s put my father through. For everything he’s put my club through…methrough. He’s responsible for every bad thing that happened to me inside Huntsville, which means a lot of my demons belong to him.”
“Son…” Eric tried to interrupt but Drew ignored him, his focus on Walsh as he talked about him like he wasn’t even there.
“I should want to draw his last breath from him for Rubin… because no kid hates the man they think is their father the way he hates you, Walsh. Not unless you’ve done some fucked up, shitty things to him.” Drew leaned closer, and Walsh’s eyes were wide, his body too weak and his heart too cowardly to react. “But you don’t deserve to die. You deserve to live—to look over your back every second of every fucking day,wondering where the bullet to end your life will come from. I won’t be the guy to give you the easy way out. You’re not worth being another life on my conscience. You’re not worth shit.” He spat, making sure it hit Walsh’s chest before he slowly began to climb off him, coming to a stand by his side.
Drew looked up at me, and he held my gaze. “I believe I only have one person left to fight for. Let’s get this final round over with. I want to go home.”
With a flick of Trigger’s wrist, Walsh was pulled to the edge of the fight circle and dumped between two of the Nav’s who were nursing their wounds.
“Walsh won’t let this go,” Eric grunted, panting through the pain as more of his weight came against me. “He won’t stop until I'm dead, the club is destroyed, and Rubin is broken, Drew.”