Free Redemption by LS Silverii

number. It was Gray Man. He’d been stirred and was hungry, as he said in several posts. What roused St. John from his slumber were the final text message streams.
    [hey bro. come over. I miss you – jeff graham] from Gray Man.
    St. John replied finally. [enough. I know who you are]
    [really? I know what you did]
    [and what is that?] Still groggy, St. John stamped out his final text and thought about turning the thing off. [my daddy liked me to watch what he did to his whores]
    [so what]
    [Vid feeds all over house]
    [wrong person] St. John typed. His heart beat rapidly at the realization there’d been a witness.
    [no its you and justice boudreaux. I will have you both]
    St. John typed out one last message— [fuck you] —but wisely deleted it. He closed his eyes but his heart raced. He knew they had to kill Gray Man.
    St. John blinked as cool air covered him in the quiet of his room. He must’ve dozed off out of sheer exhaustion. He tossed in his bunk, but now his thoughts were on Abigail. By agreement, she slept in Justice’s bed although he’d promised to not make her service him. St. John wasn’t sure, but had to trust him.
    He peeked in Justice’s bedroom to see it was only she, asleep in bed. Justice always left the bedroom door open to signal to the other brothers she was there for the taking. He reached in and pulled it shut. He crept back along the floor and made his way downstairs. The aroma of bacon led him into the kitchen. The room was full of brothers who hadn’t surrendered to the all night party.
    “Justice said to join him out back,” slurred Rotten.
    “Thanks, brother. SFFS,” St. John offered. Maybe he was self-conscious, but he’d never felt so out of place. His ears prickled at the suspicion he was being talked about. Had Justice leaked his identity?
    “Good morning, Opie. Lets talk.” Justice, as usual, had his plate piled high with eggs and bacon.
    St. John was apprehensive about the man’s tone—flat—and his expression showed no hint of brotherhood.
    A wooden rocker skidded and bounced as St. John pulled it across the back patio. He wouldn’t leave his back to the door. Maybe he was just drained from the killing of Ford, but Justice’s sinister undercurrent caused St. John to be thankful he’d strapped his weapons on.
    “What’s changed?”
    Justice glared at him. “Your girlfriend talks in her sleep.”
    St. John shuffled his feet against the wooden surface. He tried to match Justice’s glare, but only met eyes that were dark and serious. Suddenly his food lacked taste. He set his plate atop the railing.
    “What exactly did she say?” His elbow tapped the top of his weapon just in case things turned shitty real quick.
    “At first not much, but once I woke up and keyed in on her babble it became clear. She met with Lawless and Voodoo while we were gone. She also said something about Gray Man.” He spoke without breaking to chew. “So I woke her up to finish the conversation.”
    “Is that all you did to her—talk?” St. John felt his blood begin to boil. His feelings for Abigail had grown strong over the last months. If Justice broke his promise, it’d be on for an ass beating.
    “Gave you my word, Seals.”
    “It’s St. John.”
    “Okay, St. John.” He paused. “I found out Ford had been the one setting up shit so Geneti would know how to rip us off. Of course, we knew that already.” He made pretend his hand was a gun. “She told me she was close to setting up a deal for the guns, but you stopped her. Very wise on your part.”
    “We knew that too.”
    “Yes, but you never let me in on it. I guess you were still planning an arrest strategy. Maybe this is why you came clean—don’t have the juice to bust our ass.” His look was distant. The Rocky Mountains in the distance were beautiful, majestic, but Justice was somewhere else in his thoughts.
    St. John stopped rocking. “You think it’s easy to come clean? I took an oath, just like you did.