Proven (Motorcycle Club Romance): Axel and Paige 3 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 8) by Savannah Rylan

ONE
    AXEL
     
    I watched as Blaze aimed the gun at Rocco’s head, knowing that if one of us didn’t step in, he was going to kill the motherfucker.
     
    “Answer him,” I instructed in a low voice. “What do you know about Stephen Taylor’s death?”
     
    Rocco flinched. “I know it wasn’t what started the war with Las Almas. Maya and Rogue did that. Isidro didn’t want them together, and the night that Taylor died was the night Isidro realized how serious they were. It divided the clubs.”
     
    Blaze’s gun shook in his hand. “But that has nothing to do with my father.”
     
    “It has everything to do with him. He died protecting Rogue from a shot from Isidro, because of Maya. He sacrificed himself to make the club better.”
     
    “Killing my father did nothing for this club.” He pulled the weapon back, twisting it, so he could hit Rocco in the mouth with the butt of the gun.
     
    Rocco slumped on his side and down onto the floor.
     
    I shook my head. “He doesn’t know shit, Blaze. Don’t let him get to you.”
     
    Blaze growled something under his breath before walking away.
     
    Fuckin’ Rocco. That motherfucker put himself—his greed—ahead of his club. Ahead of his family. My hands fisted at my sides, seeing his pathetic form lying in front of me now, a low growl rumbling in my throat. How could he? I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe any of my brothers could be a rat, but there was no denying it any more. And Rocco had to be dealt with—the only way the club dealt with such treachery: permanently.
     
    Trista’d already gotten in her licks, and now it was finally my turn. I leaned over Rocco, and pulled my hand back, landing another punch to his gut. “You goddamned motherfucker. We trusted you. Would have done anything for you, you stupid son of a bitch. And you sell us out? For what?”
     
    Rocco’s head lifted, blood dripping down his face in thick smears. “I know, but just listen. Please, if you could just—”
     
    I didn’t allow him to finish, dealing another blow to his kidneys. My knuckles were raw and bloody, but I didn’t stop. The pain in my hands was nothing compared to the pain I wanted Rocco to feel. “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. If you were in trouble, you come to the club. You let your brothers help you. You do not,” I pulled back, punching again. “Sell us out. There’s no excuse for that shit.”
     
    Rocco wheezed, the air knocked out of his lungs. I knew I should feel pity for the bastard, but I couldn’t see past the blinding rage. Adrenaline surged as I thought back to all the lies he told. For months . My jaw tightened.
     
    “I’m sorry,” Rocco wheezed. “I know I fucked up. I know I did.”
     
    “Fucked up doesn’t even begin to cover it, Roc,” I spat. “Just shut your fuckin’ mouth. Your words are as empty as your black soul. We’re all well aware that you’d say just about anything to save your own ass, but, this time, it’s not going to work.”
     
    I punched him square in the jaw, sending blood and one of his teeth shooting across the warehouse floor. Trista eyed Ryder and I from the corner, nodding her head up, and indicating we should go over to her.
     
    “We need to bring this to the club,” she sighed. “As much as I want to just beat that fucker to death right here and now, this needs to be a club decision. We vote.”
     
    Ryder and I nodded, knowing she was right.
     
    “Put him in the van. Make sure he can’t get lose. I’ll call the club and gather everyone.”
     
    Trista pulled her phone out of her back pocket, and began to type furiously, heading toward her bike. Ryder glanced at me and I nodded, knowing we were on the same page.
     
    “She never said in what condition he should arrive to the club,” I smirked. “Round two?”
     
    Ryder’s face lit up and he bumped fists with me. “Round two.”
     
    We took our time getting Rocco back to Raven’s Nest, each of us