Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(76)

Whatever. His guilt, when he’d never made an attempt to come clean and set to rights what parts of his crime he could, was hollow and self-indulgent.

Isaac wasn’t sure how he was going to sit next to this guy and drink with him. He had to do it, though, and he had to do it friendly. So he and Show sat Ray between them and got the booze flowing.

For a long time, Ray just blathered. He talked about their trip. He talked about Wyatt. He talked ad nauseum about hot chicks he’d supposedly banged. And he talked plenty about Afghanistan, too, but it was all gloryhound bullshit. Then, finally, when Isaac was beginning to worry that he’d pass out before they could get it out of him, he started moaning about losing his commission and being discharged after being passed over twice for promotion to Major.

In the midst of that pity party, Ray muttered, “Handed that damn cunt her oak leaf on a f*cking platter.”

Isaac’s ears perked up and his fists clenched. He looked at Show, who cocked his head and gave it a slow shake, his eyes turning to Isaac’s fists on the bar.

Isaac relaxed his hands and took a breath. “What d’you mean, Ray?”

Ray had been staring at his half-full glass. He looked up, startled, when Isaac asked. He seemed to be trying to think what it was he said, then, getting it, shrugged. “Hotshot chick pilot gettin’ favors, prob’ly cuz she was givin’ favors, you know what I mean. Got upped right past me, way before her time. She was supposed to be some big deal, but she got where she did on her knees, I guarantee you.”

Nope. Isaac couldn’t deal. Torturing the truth out of Ray was suddenly his only possible option. He came off the barstool fast, surprising Ray and Show. Show covered, flashing Isaac a look that said, you will f*ck this up, if you can’t maintain, and then he asked Ray, “Sounds like a shit situation, buddy. Anything you could do about it?”

And Ray started to cry. Isaac stood there, rage jackhammering through his veins, and waited to see if Ray would end this f*cking farce and spill. “I tried, man, but it all f*cked up. It was s’pose to just be her and that * new kid flying with her. She was s’pose to go on a cargo run. Just her and the kid. No big loss. But then we had hostiles, and everything went to shit.”

Isaac stepped back, went around the bar and busied himself getting a fresh bottle of whiskey. What he’d heard made him want to bash Ray’s head in; he needed a little bit of distance. He let Show keep the lead.

Show put his huge hand on Ray’s back. “Aw man, that’s tough. You’re saying, what, you did something to make her crash?”

Ray was crying hard now; he nodded. “Just s’pose to be her and the kid! Wouldn’t have killed ‘em, just blown her ride, got her taken her off flight duty. All I wanted—get her out of the damn air. She wasn’t s’pose ta be flyin’ transport that day.”

Show, his voice easy, encouraging, asked, “Transport?” And Ray dropped his head to the bar.

Blubbering heavily, his head resting on his arms, facing Show, he told the same story Lilli had already told them. Isaac’s fist was clenched so tight around the bottle of whiskey he was still holding it was shaking.

When he noticed, he put the bottle back on the shelf. This bastard had had his last drink on the Horde.

He came back around the bar and slapped a hand down on Ray’s sloped shoulder. “Hey, buddy. What say we take you back to the dorms and you can kick back awhile, wait for Wyatt?” Ray nodded miserably, and Show walk-dragged him back to one of the rooms.

When Show came back out, Isaac asked, “We good?”

Show nodded. “I was already on board, brother. That’ll be enough for Victor and CJ both. Bart and Len, too. Probably everybody but Wyatt. That’s some bad shit he did. He’s got to pay. I’d want him dead even without your girl.”

“We need to pull everybody in, get this dealt with.” Isaac wanted it done before he left the clubhouse.

All of it. Done.

Leaning on the bar, Show asked, “How’re we gonna handle Wyatt? This won’t go down easy with him.”

“We keep Ray, let Lilli deal with him here. That neutralizes Wyatt, keeps him from acting against the club and setting off a whole new set of troubles.” Isaac pulled his burner and nodded at Show’s pocket.

“You call in the club. I need to talk to Lilli.”

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Sport. Got some news.”

“What’s up?” He could tell she was distracted, probably deep in whatever work she was doing.

“Ray’s back. We did like you asked—got him drunk, he told the whole sick story.”

There was a long silence before she responded. “Where is he now?”

“Passed out here. We’re calling in the club for the vote right now. Should go our way, baby. We’ll keep him here, and I’ll call you when the vote’s through. You can deal with him here.”

This time, there was no hesitation on her end, and when she spoke, her voice was strong and authoritative. He heard the military officer she’d been. “Absolutely not. No, Isaac. It doesn’t go down in your clubhouse. You have to stay clear of this. Get him home. I’ll deal with him.”

“Lilli, there are too many moving parts. It’s gotta be here.” The only way he could think of to keep Wyatt out of trouble was to keep both him and his brother in sight.