Dre was passed out upstairs. She was scraped up, but nothing was broken. She’d be okay.

Thank fucking God she’d be okay.

Bear sat on the rolling stool King used when he was tattooing. He shook an errant hair from his eyes and made a steeple with his hands, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I’ve always said that the best way to eliminate an unknown threat, is to start by taking out the known ones,” he said in his serious biker voice. The same one he used with his brothers when the shit hit the fan.

“So let’s make a list,” King suggested. His massive frame took up every available inch of the leather sofa. His knees spread wide apart. “Anyone who even has even a little reason to want to cause us or our families harm.”

“Then what?” I asked, my head still pounding. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Bear shrugged. “Then we kill everyone on it.”

“Agreed,” King said, crossing his arms over his chest. “By removing all of the threats against us, no matter what the reason. Chances are that we’d also remove the one who tried to get to Dre.”

“Process of elimination,” I said, rolling the idea around in my head, liking it more and more as it took hold in my brain. “Although, I don’t think mass murder is how that process usually starts.”

Bear snickered.

“Dre doesn’t have anyone after her, so this is definitely something related to me,” I said.

“What about that other guy Dre was with when you first met her?” King asked. “The one you didn’t kill.”

“Eric,” I said, hating the way his name sounded out loud. “Before Dre even left the first time I tracked him down, but I was too late. Fucker was already dead.”

“Good,” King said. “So he’s out. Who else?”

Bear cleared his throat. “We finally got a location on the coroner who signed off on your death certificate. There’s no way he wasn’t on Chop’s payroll. Plus, the bitch ran shortly after the news that you were alive started to make the rounds through town. He thought he could hide from us, but he thought wrong. Smoke tagged him in a public housing complex in Fort Romig, just a thirty minute ride down the coast.”

“Close enough to make him a suspect for last night too,” I pointed out.

King sneered and cracked his knuckles. “Motherfucker should have run further.”

I nodded. “He’s on the list.”

“The guy at the funeral home who was covering for Chop, who told us that open casket wasn’t an option because of some shit about an embalming mishap? He’s been taken care of courtesy of Jake Dunn,” King said, toying with a buckle on one of the leather belts wrapped around his forearms.

“Thank fuck for that crazy son of a bitch,” I said, taking a swig of whiskey from the bottle and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Who else?” Bear asked. “What about Bo’s mom?”

“Dre is his mom,” I corrected with more bite than I meant to.

“You know what I mean, Prep. His biological mom. The bitch who shot him out her pussy,” Bear amended.

“She’s dead.”

“You?” King asked, asking if I was the one who killed her.

I shook my head. “Nope. Although, it would have been. I gave her enough H to do the job after she signed the adoption papers. The bitch must have had a tolerance like a pre-Iron Man Robert Downey Jr. Anyway, she must have pissed off one of her dealers real good ‘cause the fucker put an ax through her head.”

“Ouch,” Bear said, but the fucker was smiling.

“Yeah, and I thought I had a headache,” I said with a laugh. “Where are we with the hospital staff?”

“The hospital shit’s a fucking mess,” King scoffed. “The staff there signs off on each other’s charts. The doctor who was in charge of the ER at the time died a while back of a stroke. Then we found out that the person who comes out to tell you that your loved one is dead isn’t necessarily the one who handles the case either. They’re understaffed and overworked, so they just get whoever is available to do something. It’s been a fucking disaster to sort through. The paperwork leads you in a circle and back to nowhere fast.”

“One of my guys is banging the head nurse on the night shift,” Bear said. “He’s gonna see what else he might be able to get.”

I lit a cigarette. “The doctor with that pussy ass smile tattoo on his hand. Dr. Reid. There’s no way that fucker’s not involved with Chop. Might be trying to get to Preppy through Dre to cover up all the shit he’s done. He’d have to have balls the size of tires to attempt it, but it’s still a possibility. We’ve been tracking him for months with no luck. He quit the hospital and vanished, but we’ll find him. He’ll surface. They always do,” I said.

“There’s no telling who else there could be involved. That’s what’s been tripping us up.” King lit a joint. “We can’t be sure we get to who all was involved unless we take out the entire hospital staff,” he laughed, passing the joint to Bear.

“Well, if we,” I started, but Bear interrupted before I had the chance to utter a word. “No, Preppy, that’s not a fucking option.”

I sighed. “I know, but you gotta understand that I’ve got this thing hanging over me now. I know this shit will take time, and I know that we’ll make sure anyone responsible for all this shit pays and pays big,” I paused and looked down to my hands. “And another part of me thinks that if there’s any chance that someone inside that place might try and come after Dre again, then I’m calling that psychopath, Rage, and letting her blow that hospital into a million fucking pieces.”

“How about we call that Plan B,” King offered.

“Deal,” I said, rubbing my sore shoulder and cracking my neck.

“You all right, Prep?” King asked. He’d walked away from the accident with only a scratch above his left eye.

“Yeah, but not all of us had fluffy Preppy cushions to land on,” I said. “Who else we got?”

“With Chop, Isaac, and Eli out of the picture, there isn’t much,” King said, exchanging a look with Bear.

“What?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”