The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(117)

My finger steady on the trigger I watch the first bike turn into the lot.

“What the fuck?” Riggs says next to me, keeping his gun just as cocked and ready as Pipe leads a pack of at least ten bikes. I narrow my eyes as Pipe breaks in front of me and throws down his kickstand.

Lifting his helmet from his head, he turns to face me, bloodshot eyes peer back at me. There is nothing left of the man, his eyes are as dead as his soul and his body is just a shell, just a place to house the vengeance pulsing through his veins.

I avert my eyes to the men pulling up behind him and zero in on the Satan’s Knight’s patch sewn into their leathers.

“Brooklyn meet Bergen County,” Pipe introduces, tipping his chin to the gun in my hand. “You going to shoot the men here to help us or are you going to invite them to your table?”

Lowering my gun with one hand, I size up the president of the Bergen County charter, a man who goes by the name of Smoke.

“Word on the street is there is no Brooklyn charter,” Smoke says, dismounting from his bike.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to believe everything you hear?” I retort, tucking my gun into the front of my jeans.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Better off letting them believe you’re dead that way they don’t expect to see your ghost,” he counters, holding out his hand. “Time for you to put those rumors to rest and show everyone what you’re made of, Blackie.”

I’ve been Jack’s right hand for years, been the talk of many, on the outside I’m nothing but a recovering junkie, a hothead who lost his way when he lost his wife. No one speaks of my loyalty to the reaper on my back, or the men I stand with. They don’t know what I’m capable of, what happens when I’ve been pushed too far. They don’t know the reason my road name is Blackie, they don’t know it’s because I’ve faded more lives to black than most—without consequence, without regard.

They tried fading us to black and now it’s their turn to fade. There won’t be any mishaps. There won’t be anyone left standing, not a fucking fly on the wall of their clubhouse will survive what we’re going to do. It’s not a test of physics, there won’t be some little prick in a basement making a bomb to strap to an unsuspecting asshole. No, revenge will be at the hands of the men surrounding me and it will be executed the old fashioned way, where we take life with our bare hands.

I lead my men and the men of the Bergen County charter into the garage and brief them on what I plan to do. An operation that seemed hopeless a few days ago springs to life and retribution is so close I can taste it. With the help of the other charter, the new bikes and enough ammo to take out a village we have a strong chance of wiping them out, especially if they don’t see us coming.

Surprise them.

Introduce them to the ghost of the Satan’s Knights.

Make them fade to Black.





My body is here lying on the couch next to Reina’s but my mind isn’t, my mind is out there, with my brothers fighting to take back what is ours. Even before I was the president, as long as I’ve held my patch I’ve been on the front lines. I don’t know what it’s like to be left behind while my boys are off riding and avenging.

I glance down as Reina reaches for my hands and rests them on top of her belly. I bury my face in the crook of her neck as the baby kicks against my hand. It’s my kid who reminds me that sometimes we all need to take a step back and appreciate the little treasures in life. The blessings.

She lifts her head from my chest and I stare at her lips as she says another name.

“Chloe,” she suggests.

I recite the name in my head and shrug my shoulders, not sold on the name. We’ve already decided on the name if the baby is a boy but this girl thing is rough. I don’t remember doing this with Connie when she was pregnant. I’m not sure if it’s because I didn’t have an interest back then or if it was because I was out on the road for most of her pregnancies. Probably a bit of both.

“What about Dana?” I say.

“I think we should just keep praying for a boy,” she replies and I actually hear every other word clearly. I’m noticing that I favor my left ear more so than my right.

The bell rings and Reina crawls off me and tries to lift herself off the couch but it’s a losing battle. I feel the smile tug at the corners of my mouth and lean forward to kiss her. Pregnancy suits Reina, makes me wish I was a little younger—we wouldn’t stop at one.

“I’ll get it,” I tell her, patting her knee for her to stay where she is on the couch. I grab my shirt off the back of the couch and pull it over my head as I walk to the front door, never expecting Grace Pastore to be on my door step.

“Hi, Jack,” she says, forcing a smile on her worn face. Vic’s wife is a looker but these days she looks so damn tired, so damn heartbroken.

“Come in,” I say, moving aside for her to enter before kicking the door closed and ushering her into the living room where Reina can help me communicate with our guest.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she starts as Reina holds out her hands to me and I help her onto her feet so she can greet Grace.

“Of course not,” Reina says. “Can we get you something? Coffee maybe?”

She shakes her head and turns to me.