Chapter 6 - A House Divided
The words stung.
Several of the younger bikers looked down, ashamed.
The older ones, who remembered the prosperous, honorable days under Roman Wolfe, began to stand up.
But they didn’t stand for Silas.
They stood and moved to the left side of the room, aligning themselves behind Gregory and Lyra.
“This is treason,” Silas hissed, his face darkening as he realized he was losing control of the room.
“This is cleansing,” Gregory corrected.
Marcus slowly stood up from his knees, his massive frame towering once more, but this time, he walked over to Lyra’s side.
“I’m sorry, kid,” Marcus said, looking down at Lyra. “I was weak. We didn't know you were alive. We thought the line was broken.”
“It’s not broken,” Lyra said, her eyes fixed on Silas. “It was just waiting.”
Silas laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that echoed off the wooden rafters.
“You think a few old men and a little girl can take this club back?” Silas asked. “I have the police in my pocket. I have the city council. I have the cartel’s backing.”
He raised his hand, pointing his silver-ringed finger at Gregory.
“If you don't leave now, old man, you won't live to see the sunrise. And the girl goes to a dark room until she tells me where that book is.”
Lyra didn’t show fear.
May you like
“We leave,” Lyra said, looking at Gregory. “But we’ll be back.”
“You aren't going anywhere,” Silas said, reaching for his gun.
