The Saints' Devil

XXXIII

He wasn't gone that long. It was a short run. There was no threat. There was no complications. The club was worried about the target painted on his back, but he should've known they'd use her. 

Nothing could've prepared Frank for what he'd see when he got back to the clubhouse. The rest of the members were in disarray, angry at themselves for allowing something like this to happen not once but twice now. However, for Frank the love of his life was gone and the one man who brought him out of the darkness was shot dead in his own auto shop.

It terrified the rest of the members as they watched him approach Eagle's lifeless body and kneel down in his blood, lifting his head in his lap and just staring down at him. Frank was in shock, to say the least. He was like that for too long, just sitting there hoping the man he considered a father would just wake up. He was hoping this was all just a nightmare but the longer he sat there, the sooner he realized it was all too real.

When he sat there, holding him close, he denied that he was truly dead. He couldn't believe it. 

Then the anger came. He stood, covered in Eagle's blood, and seething with rage. It was like an aura around him and the members knew he was at his Devil stage. "Where the hell were the rest of you?" he said, his voice low but laced with venom.

"There's no way we could've known, Frank--the place is sound proof and they had silencers--"

He grabbed Leon by the color, his steel eyes glaring down at him and causing his face to drain from color. "When I said make your rounds I expected you all to come into this place. How could the rest of you not know this was going on?!"

Ryan placed a hand on his old friends shoulder, his eyes red and pooling with tears. Unlike the rest of them, Eagle adopted Ryan when he was married. They were closer than Frank was with him and he was barely holding on. Frank had been so blinded by his own sadness and rage that he didn't even stop to check him and just the sight of him had ceased his actions.

"No more," Ryan said, his voice breaking, the tears spilling. "They couldn't have known. No one could've k-known."

Frank grabbed his shoulder, watching as his head fell and the tears dripped to the floor. 

"It's no excuse," Leon said, his head down and fists clenched. "We abandoned our duties and during a time like this. It's our fault he's--"

"Enough," Frank said. "Eagle died for this club, I'm sure that old bastard was thinking he was glad it was him who died."

They were all silent, their heads down, their right fists over their heart. The reality of it all came crashing down on Frank and the tears spilled but the rest of the members didn't know. Even after all these years, he had always told himself not to get involved with anyone else; not to get attached to anyone. He knew the consequences, he knew them yet why. Why did he allow himself to get attached? 

"Let's give him a proper burial," Frank said and nearly all the men followed, helping to carry his body to the back of the clubhouse where the rest of their land was and where their personal cemetery was for the most devoted members.

"Search for any traces of her," he said to a few of his men, helping Ryan to dig a hole. "There will not be another death."

"Why'd they kill him?" Ryan asked, his sobs and his accent making his words jumble together as he tried his hardest to dig this hole. "I was at the bar, how could I be so oblivious? I couldn't even say goodbye."

"He was a devoted member," Frank said trying his hardest to keep his composure. "He saved many lives and had a heart of gold. He'll always be a Saint."

"They put him on his knees like a dog and executed him. He didn't deserve that," Ryan tried to say, having to stop every so often to wipe his face with the back of his arm. 

"His death will not be in vain," Frank said, the anger rising within him yet again. "Fury will not get away with the shit he's pulling."

* 

"Where the fuck is she?!" Frank snapped, his patience running thin. It had already been three and a half weeks and they could find no trace of her, no sign of her, nothing. They had no clue what Fury had planned or where he was hiding. 

"We've searched the city, every corner of it. We can't find her," Cobra said.

"I'm going to kill the son of a bitch the minute we find him," Frank seethed.

"What the hell does he get out of doing all this shit," Leon asked, all of them just as confused and frustrated about the situation as much as Frank. "I mean, what the hell does he have planned? It seems like this whole damn time, the entire time he was President, he had something bigger planned right under our noses but we still know just as much as we did before; nothing."

"What if she's already dead?" Drake whispered to himself, his head in his hands. 

"There's no way they'd kill her, they're using her to make Frank stupid," Cobra said, roughly patting Frank on his back. "They know as long as they have her, Frank will come running into their neatly placed trap all while he's got his cock in his hands."

"Knock your shit off Cobra," Frank snapped, elbowing him in the gut. "I'm well aware of their pathetic attempt at trapping me."

"If that's all they want to do," Ryan began, catching their attention, finally speaking after three weeks. "Then maybe we should make a trap of our own for when they show themselves?"

And so the games began.