Sins of Betrayal

UNFORGIVEN SOULS MC

BOOK ONE

JUNIPER NYX

Copyright @ 2023 by Juniper Nyx. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Sins of Betrayal

Edits/Proofreading: Silvia’s Writing Corner

Cover Design: Books And Moods

Cover Model: Chad Hurst

Photographer: Michelle Lancaster @lanefotograf

Created with Vellum

Contents

Dedication

Playlist

Introduction

Prologue

1.  Nyla

2.  Nyla

3.  Nyla

4.  Nyla

5.  Nyla

6.  Mitchell

7.  Nyla

8.  Nyla

9.  Nyla

10.  Grim

11.  Nyla

12.  Nyla

13.  Mitchell

14.  Nyla

15.  Mitchell

16.  Nyla

17.  Nyla

18.  Mitchell

19.  Nyla

20.  Mitchell

21.  Nyla

22.  Mitchell

23.  Nyla

24.  Mitchell

25.  Mitchell

26.  Nyla

27.  Mitchell

28.  Nyla

29.  Mitchell

30.  Nyla

31.  Nyla

32.  Nyla

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Dedication

Dedicated to those of you who were ever betrayed, but your life turned out better for it.

I’m sorry you don’t get big biker dick to make up for your betrayal, so I wrote about it.

Playlist

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3lKi3cxb1m0HXHmcQ1oKSj?si=d10ad41cb8bf4a32

My sacfrice - creed

empty - the click five

Alone - i prevail

you and me - lifehouse

listen to your heart - dht

take your time - sam hunt

nothing left to lose - mat kearney

home - daughtry

Cold - crossfade

would anyone care - citizen soldier

what hurts the most - rascal flatts

what about now - daughtry

the beach - the neighborhood

welcome to my life - simple plan

savin' me - nickleback

addicted - saving abel

whatever it takes - lifehouse

one last breath - creed

unsainted - slipknot

lifeline - bad wolves

sober - bad wolves

how you remind me - nickleback

One Day The Only Butterflies Left Will Be In Your Chest As You March Towards Your Death - bring me the horizen, amy lee

umbrella - rihanna, jay-z

already home - thousand foot krutch

1x1 - bring me the horizon, nova twins

arcade - duncan laurence

love is gone - slander, dylan matthew

hey pretty girl - kip moore

monster - starset

i guess i'm in love - clinton kane

drown - bring me the horizon

never knew a heart could break itself - zach hood

Introduction

Dear reader,

Sins of Betrayal may have triggering content not suitable for readers under 18. For a full list of content warnings please visit https://junipernyx.com/sins-of-betrayal/

Disclaimer:

Mitchell Walker does not grovel with words.

Prologue

G rim

I was a coward.

Sitting under the tree that had become my home for the last several years, letting the droplets of rain fall from my hair and skin without care, too scared to face my past mistakes and visit their graves.

My mother and sister’s graves to be exact.

The thought of them six feet under from the evil of the world did nothing to comfort the heaviness in my chest where my heart was supposed to be. They were gone from the Earth because of a selfish mistake…

My selfish mistake.

I was a failure, just like my father kept telling me I was when they passed. Can’t say I blame him; the grief of losing your wife and daughter because of your son was a heavy burden someone shouldn’t have to carry.

Every night for the past twelve years was a routine. I parked my rod under the tree within sight of the graves, watching over them as I should have done in the past. The thoughts of my mother hugging me like she always did. Mallory always bragged about how great her big brother was, but she didn’t know how much of a monster I was behind the scenes until it was too late. Their memories alone shot pain and warmth into my chest, constricting my heart uncomfortably, but I deserved the pain. If I knew then what I know now, I would’ve cherished my time with them. Instead, here I am, watching them from afar.

Alone. Haunted by my memories.

Like I deserved to be.

My nails dug into my palm until I felt them break the skin, the physical prick of pain soothing my mental anguish slightly. I had to be strong until I could avenge them, and I would—even if it was the last thing I would ever do.

These past twelve years without them have been nothing short of a clusterfuck. I met men I was proud to call my brothers—the club saved my life. It helped me become the man I should’ve been back then. All I could hope was that Mom and Mallory were looking down on me, proud of who I have become. They were, no doubt, in heaven, and I would never see them again, even in death.

Right now, my brothers were counting on me to find The Flock’s leader. The son of a bitch was gone in the wind, and we had no leads. Ever since their deaths, my sole focus was finding their murderer and helping atone for my sins. His blood was going to stain my hands if it was the last thing I was going to do.

This was my last ride.

I would be meeting the Devil himself after it was over.

Not like I had anything left to live for, anyway.

CHAPTER 1

Nyla

T he rain was heavy today, as if God had sensed my sorrows and sent the rain as an empathetic gesture. I didn’t care, though.

My focus was on the tombstone in front of me.

I stood there, purple umbrella in hand to protect me from the downpour, reading the etching on the stone.

Leela Brooks

Beloved mother and grandmother.

May she rest in peace.

Crouching, I rubbed the letters with my free hand, a small part of me hoping she would appear in front of me if I did. It didn’t matter that I knew it was impossible or that I’d been coming here for two years, feeling just as broken as I did that day. I still came here, even if it’d never be enough.

The grief of losing a loved one wasn’t linear, and some days you just needed that false hope to make it through the day.

And today was one of those days.

“Hi, Grandma.” I spoke to the slab of stone in front of me, placing the bouquet on the grave. “I brought your favorites, white orchids. I make sure the shop has them, just for you.” The back of my eyes began to burn as my lips shook. “Claudia even named the display Leela’s Orchids. Isn’t that nice?”

Not only was Claudia my boss at Poppy Oak's, but she was my best friend’s mother. She was like a second mom to me—my only motherly figure aside from my grandma. Grandma was always my number one; she’d raised me, alongside my father, since the day I was born. My father told me my mother left me on his doorstep shortly after I was born, and he had no idea she was pregnant. He was concerned about me not having a mother, but my grandmother played both roles.

She was all I needed, but that all changed when I was fifteen. It started with her forgetting her keys whenever she would drive. She brushed it off, saying everyone forgets their keys once in a while, and I believed her. But then it started snowballing. Little instances, like when she’d just drive right past her house, lasted for a few years before she started to forget my father’s name, and then my name. That’s when my father forced her to go to the doctor.

She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

My seventeen-year-old heart was broken with the diagnosis. The person I loved more than anything in this world was slowly forgetting me—and I didn’t know how long it would be before she forgot me entirely.

I spent as much time with her as I could after that. I quit all my after-school programs to spend more time with her, and after I graduated, I delayed going to college. Instead, I got a part-time job at Poppy Oak’s, where Claudia let me work when I wanted to. During that time, Grandma was placed in hospice care, and while I took care of her the best I could, we still had a nurse come in a few times a week.

I cherished the times we would sit together, Grandma and me, sipping tea while the TV played in the background. Grandma would remember me some days, and she would chastise me for taking a gap year—always worried I was wasting time with her when I could be out living. And the days she didn’t know who I was, assuming I was a nurse to care for her, she was kind, but formal. Sometimes, when I was just a nameless person in her world, she would talk nonsense about how she’d have to clean out her basement, which she was adamant was filled with junk. Whenever I’d offer to help clean it, she would insist her son would do it, and that I shouldn’t worry about such trivial things, always keeping the formality between us. Other times, she’d turn wistful, and it would break my heart whenever she told me about her granddaughter on the days I was a stranger to her. How much she loved Nyla and how proud she was, but she had no idea I was right there next to her.

I was Nyla. She was talking to me, about me, and she didn’t even realize it.

It was like that for a few years until the disease progressed to where she became nonverbal, just staring out the window in her favorite rocking chair. The hospice nurse explained the disease was close to the end, and she was right. Grandma passed away a few weeks later, taking a piece of me with her.

You’ll never be the same when the casket closes on your favorite person.

“You remember that nurse who used to come in and take care of you? She came into Poppy Oak’s last year for some flowers and remembered me. After we talked, she said I would make a great nurse. I talked to Dad; he supported me and paid for my college classes. Today, I found out I got accepted into nursing school.” I felt the pain release from my eyes, flowing down my cheeks. “Are you proud of me, Grandma?”

Of course, there was no answer, but the wind blew at that moment, wrapping around me, making me feel nature’s embrace. My tears came out faster. “I miss you, Grandma… I wish you were here with me.”

I spent a few more moments looking at her grave before I pressed my lips to my fingers and touched the stone. I wish I could stay longer, but my dad was taking me out to dinner to celebrate getting accepted into nursing school. I couldn’t wait to spend time with him and my uncles. As much as I missed my grandma, I was fortunate to have a family I could remember her with.

I stepped away from the grave, making my way across the stony path to my car. I turned the key in the ignition, slightly freaking out when I heard stutters instead of revving.

“No, no, no,” I mumbled to myself as I tried to get the car to start. Frustrated, I hit the steering wheel with a cry. Of course, my car wouldn’t start on a rainy day in the middle of a freaking graveyard. What was this, a cliché horror movie? I rubbed my hands up and down my cheeks, debating on what to do.

I clutched the necklace my father gave me when I was little for comfort. It was a simple chain and a simple band, engraved with my birthdate and Moore.

I had no idea what Moore meant, but once I got older, I asked my dad about it and he told me it was meant to be more, as in ‘I love you more’ but there was a mistake and he couldn’t afford to get a replacement, so that’s how it remained; leaving me with a note to make up for it. The note read ‘We love you forever, sweetheart,’ a phrase I repeated in my head on my darkest days—it always brought the light at the end of the dark tunnel, especially when Dad was traveling for work.

Feeling defeated, my emotions already on edge from the visit, I picked up my phone and called Dad. He worked all hours of the day due to owning a business, so chances were, he was probably still asleep or busy, but he kept his phone volume up in case of an emergency. Thankfully, after a few rings, he answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Nyla? You okay?” The concern in his voice soothed me a little bit. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl. He fought all my demons and made everything feel okay.

“I was visiting Grandma’s grave, and my car was fine, but now it won’t start.”

“Well, shit.” He cursed under his breath before sighing. “Me and Rand had to take care of some business out of town, so I’m an hour away.”

I furrowed my brows. Dad usually told me where he was going to be during the day, and today, he had mentioned he was going to be home, off. “What are you doing out of town? I thought you took the day off?”

“Something came up,” he replied dismissively. Dad never really talked about his business, other than the fact that he had a lot of people depending on him, so his hours were sporadic. He got called out at all hours of the day, and it worried me since his sleep schedule wasn’t healthy. I made sure to cook for him and made sure to make extra for my uncle, who frequently came over since he worked for Dad’s company.

“Are you safe?” His question interrupted my thoughts.

I bit my lip. Work was important to my dad. He raised his business from the ground up, sacrificing a lot to make it successful. I don’t know if I would’ve had as strong of a relationship with Grandma if he wasn’t working so much. His long hours led me to spend a lot of time with her.

I knew what could happen if he half-assed whatever he was doing. I would never forgive myself if my dad lost a potential client or contract because of me. “I’m safe. You don’t have to leave. I can call Oakley and see if she can pick me up.”

“Nyla—”

“Your business is important, Dad. Oakley told me she’s making deliveries today and besides,” I paused, looking around at my surroundings, “I don’t want to be stuck in the graveyard for an hour.”

I heard him let out a frustrated sigh. “We’re still gonna head back that way. Call Oakley, and let me know what’s going on.”

“I will.”

“Love you, kid. See ya soon.”

“Love you, too.” I ended the call before dialing my best friend and roommate. Thankfully, because of her job, she always had her phone on her in case of a potential order. I felt relieved when she answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Oak, are you busy?”

“I just finished a delivery. Are you okay?” I heard the concern in her voice.

“I just went to visit Grandma, and now my car won’t start.” I sighed. “I was wondering if you could pick me up?”

“Of course,” she answered immediately, and I let out a sigh of relief. “I have to pick up Joslyn first, and then I’ll be there.”

I furrowed my brows. Joslyn was my manager at Poppy Oak’s, and a close friend to Oakley and me. She was the sweetest person I’d ever met, and I wasn’t just saying that because she was my boss and friend. When she wasn’t working or at school, she was always volunteering somewhere for children or the homeless. I already knew the answer to my question, but I asked anyway, “Why do you have to pick her up?”

Oakley was silent for a moment. “Jordyn took her car, and Jos can’t find her.”

I sighed, hating that I was right. Jordyn was Joslyn’s twin sister, and her total opposite. Where Joslyn was sunshine, Jordyn was the darkness in the corner of the room, riddled with track marks and gaunt eyes. Joslyn enabled her sister’s obvious habit, even if Jordyn was borderline abusive toward her. I’d seen the damage Jordyn did to her sister, and while Joslyn always had a smile on her face, it always seemed to disappear whenever Jordyn was around. I’d never been around her for more than an hour, but she always gave off a destitute vibe. I didn’t know what Jordyn held over Joslyn’s head to be at her beck and call all the time, but I also didn’t understand since I didn’t have a sibling, let alone a twin. When I didn’t respond, Oakley started to talk again. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Will you be okay until then?”

I looked out through the window. The rain had let up a bit, and other than me getting the chills from being alone in a graveyard, I was fine. “Yeah, thanks, Oak.”

“See you soon.”

After we hung up, I sent a text to my dad telling him that Oakley was coming to pick me up. He replied, letting me know that he and Uncle Rand were on their way back to town, and they’d meet me at the restaurant at seven. I sent him a ‘See you soon,’ before resting my head on the headrest, letting the soft pattering of rain lull me out of reality.

It was the simple pleasures in life, like falling asleep to the sounds of the rain hitting the roof of my car. I remember the days when I would sit in my grandma’s reading nook, book in hand, watching the elements until I eventually fell asleep due to the lull of the rain.

I felt relaxed as the rain picked up once again, but the crackling of thunder and lightning across the gray sky made my eyes shoot open. I may have liked the rain, but thunder and lightning always set my nerves on edge.

I looked out the driver’s side window, resting my cheek against the cool glass as I listened to the raindrops. I spotted something underneath a nearby tree, and my eyes widened.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

A man was sitting under the oak tree, his face tilted toward the sky, letting the rain cascade over him through the branches. My eyebrows furrowed, wondering what he was doing. No normal person sat in the rain by themselves, especially in a graveyard.

You’ll always be surprised that the nicest people live in the dark; the real dangers are the ones who aren’t afraid to hide in the light.

My grandma’s words wrapped around my mind, making me bite my lip. My grandma helped anyone she could, whether it was giving her holidays to volunteering at the local soup kitchen or spending her days in her sewing room making socks and blankets for the homeless shelter. My father always told her it was dangerous to constantly be around people who could potentially be dangerous.

She would look at him with a smile. I would rather die doing good than die standing by while more people on this Earth need help. The privilege of helping others is one that’s often taken for granted.

I wanted to be just like her, spreading good in this world to combat the massive hate epidemic. I remember donating my toys and books whenever Grandma would collect items for the shelter, wanting to show her that I could be good like her. She would smile at me, collecting some of my favorite toys and well-loved books before placing them in a cardboard box.

My grandma was the reason I was going to be a nurse, so I could help people like her. I promised her when she was on her deathbed that I wouldn’t let her legacy of doing good for others die with her, though I’ve been too busy going through the motions of my grief to go above and beyond for others the way she did.

That legacy would be continued today.

A shuttered breath left my lips as I reached for my umbrella. The rain drowned out the sound of my car door shutting as I made my way over to the man. Being the awkward woman I was, I said nothing as I shoved the umbrella over his head, protecting him and myself from the rain. My breath hitched in my throat when his head snapped to me, and I got a look at his eyes.

His haunted hazel eyes entranced me, and the sheer amount of pain that rested beyond them made me ache.

The haunted look didn’t last long, replaced by one of amusement—further proven when his lips tilted up at the sides. “Wasn’t expecting a good view in this shitty place.”

Ignoring his comment, I asked, “Are you okay?”

A huff of breath left his lips. “I’m sitting in the rain in a graveyard; what do you think?”

My cheeks flushed from the slight embarrassment and annoyance at his answer. I breathed in my nose and out my mouth before I answered, “I think you could use some company.”

“What if I wanted to be alone?”

“No one truly wants to be alone.” I looked around at the endless rows of lost loved ones. The despair that had gripped me from the moment I drove past the front gates still surrounded me like a cold layer, and not even the pouring rain could wash it off. “Especially in a place like this.”

He seemed to study me for a moment, the dubious smirk still present on his face. “You don’t know me, so don’t go assuming what I want or need.”

I may not have known him, but a decent human would at least check on a man who was obviously down on his luck. Sitting on the muddy ground, wishing the rain would wash his pain away, was a clear indicator of that.

“Stubborn and beautiful,” he mused. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or just making a comment to himself. “Deadly combo.”

My face flushed. I’d been complimented by men who came into Poppy Oak’s, but they weren’t nearly as attractive as the man sitting in front of me. No man I’ve ever encountered was.

His dirty blond hair that ended just at the base of his skull was wet, some strands sticking to the tanned skin of his face while the rest was slicked back. His facial hair was trimmed close to his jaw, making it look like stubble rather than a heavy beard, but he pulled it off well. He wore a black sweatshirt paired with straight-legged gray sweatpants, complimented with a pair of plain black slip-on shoes.

My mouth was watering slightly, and I wasn’t sure if it was the moisture in the air or not. Did he not know how dangerous it was to wear gray sweatpants out in public?

“I have a face to look at, y’know.”

My yelp at being caught seemed to amuse him more than piss him off, which I was thankful for, even though my face blazed hot at getting caught. “S-sorry.”

He brushed off my apology as I looked around, trying to find a place to sit. The ground was wet from the rain, and I didn’t really want to sit on it, but I also felt awkward just standing there. “What are you looking so hard at?”

“I was going to sit, but it doesn’t look like there’s a dry place.” Yes, that’s what happens when it rains, Nyla.

“You could always sit on my lap.”

His words caught me off guard, drawing a laugh from me. I looked at him, expecting him to be joking, but his stoic face told me otherwise. Who offers a complete stranger to sit on their lap? “I-it’s fine, I’ll stand.”

His amusement at how flustered he was making me was clear, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just shrugged before he stood, looking down at me. At five-foot, seven inches, I was taller than average for a woman, yet I still had to crane my neck to look at him.

“So, tell me, what brings a girl like you to these parts?”

He knew why I was here, but he was really asking me who I was here for. “Someone I miss more than anything…”

The words I spoke were raw; I’d been reliving the pain of losing my grandma all over again today. You never got over your grief of losing a loved one, you just learned how to live with the pain of missing them.

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed movement. I stepped back slightly, head tilted up, looking at the man now standing in front of me. I lifted my umbrella up to accommodate his height, a notion he didn’t miss. “Whoever they are, they’re lucky they got someone like you missin’ them. I wouldn’t mind being six feet under if I knew you were visiting me.”

“Don’t talk like that,” I hissed. “Your family would be devastated if you were gone.”

“Considering my family is already buried here, I doubt that.” I sucked in a sharp breath at his admission, confused when he grinned at me. “Why do you think I’m here in the first place? A nice stroll in the rain?”

I leveled him with a look of sympathy. “I know why you’re here… I just wish it was for different reasons.”

“We all have wishes, though most of them go unanswered.”

“If you had one wish that would be granted, what would it be?”

He seemed to contemplate my question, tilting his neck enough to look at the sky as rain dripped off the leaves and landed on his face. I didn’t think he would answer me, but in a voice barely above a whisper, he responded, “I wish I could be saved.”

“I don’t understand?”

With his head still tilted upward, he cut his eyes to me and flashed a sardonic smile. “Good girls like you wouldn’t.”

The silence between us was tense, the only noise the steady rainfall around us and the soft thuds of the drops hitting my umbrella. My brain was rattling for something to say, but all I could think about was what he just told me. I knew the standard definition of saved.

Though his felt entirely different.

“You know,” I gently stated, needing a distraction from our heavy conversation, “I don’t know if you do this already, but your family might like some flowers on their grave. Makes their forever space stand out compared to others.”

“Men like me wouldn’t be caught dead in a flower shop.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Most men who came into the shop were dragged there against their will. “I work at one. I’ll have you know there’s men who look a lot like you going in there to get flowers.”

His eyes narrowed, confusing me with his sudden anger. “That all they do?”

I blinked, trying to process his question. “What do you mean?”

“Is that all they do? Buy some flowers…” His lips flattened as if he was struggling to contain his emotions. “Or do they flirt with the pretty girl at the counter, too?”

My eyebrows furrowed, nerves starting to get the best of me with his shift in mood. “Some do.”

His jaw ticked, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “And what do you do when they flirt with you?”

“Since they usually make me uncomfortable, I just politely laugh and hope they leave. Once they do, I move on with my life.”

He was quiet as he gazed at me intently before he gave a sharp, single nod. “Some other guy comes in and flirts with you, you let me know.”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, or if I’d like the answer. “Why would I tell you? As a matter of fact, how would I even tell you?”

His hand reached out, and for a split second, I regretted leaving my car to help him. My body seized, trying to prepare for whatever he was about to do. But as I looked into his hazel eyes, I found they were swirling with an unidentifiable emotion I felt compelled to unravel. I almost got caught in them when I felt his hand barely graze my hair, pulling a small leaf I didn’t realize was stuck between the strands. He released it, both of us now bothering to watch it get lost in the wind. Instead, it was almost like we were getting lost in each other.

What the hell is happening?

“I like that fire in you, pretty girl. Let me tell you a little secret.” His face lowered, getting so close to mine, I could feel his breath on my lips as he whispered, “The biggest mistake of your life was telling me where you worked.”

I didn’t realize how loose the grip of my umbrella was until another gust of wind swept under the tree, taking my umbrella—and my only weapon of protection—with it. I couldn’t be bothered to look where it was going, just knew it was gone when my skin recognized the feel of rain still falling from above. I couldn’t tell if this was his weird way of flirting or if it was something else.

“Why was that a mistake?” My hushed words were wary, totally unsure of where he was going with this sudden mood swing. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten out of my car.

The smirk that grew on his lips was an odd mix of self-deprecation and confidence. “I’m going to teach you why you shouldn’t approach all the monsters you see, pretty girl.”

His words instilled fear in me, making my body go cold for a different reason other than the chill in the air from the rain. The lump in my throat grew, making it difficult to swallow my growing nerves. Yeah, definitively should’ve stayed in my car…

He stepped back, making me flinch at his sudden action. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he lifted his dampened black hoodie over his head. I briefly glanced as his undershirt rode up his stomach, exposing a thin trail of hair to his belly button. Now only dressed in a tank top, I couldn’t help but peek at his arms that were taut with lithe muscle. The rain trailing over his biceps drew in more of my attention than I should’ve been giving him.

My eyes caught the black tribal tattoo taking up the expanse of his forearm, accompanied by a bracelet on his wrist. The bracelet was beautifully unique, centered with a sapphire- and amber-swirled stone—a combination I’ve never seen before.

He cleared his throat, drawing my attention from his body to his face. That egotistical smirk ever so present. “Put this on. Let’s get you out of the rain.”

I looked at the clothing he just handed me. I was still surprised by his words, so my brain wasn’t properly working when I responded, “I don’t think it’ll fit.”

“I’m twice your size; of course it’s not going to fit.” He snorted. “But it’ll give you some protection from the rain. Don’t want you gettin’ sick because of me.”

I did as he asked, starting to slip the over-sized fabric over my head. The hoodie ended mid-thigh, the dampness of the material blending in with my own clothes. I looked up in time to see the way his hazel eyes trailed my body, darkening as he took in his clothing on me. His eyes looked like a predator who had just marked their territory.

“Come on.” His voice was gravely as pulled the hood over my head before gesturing me forward. The hood suddenly fell over my eyes, making my steps falter as I was blindly trying to follow him. I felt his forearm before I saw it, letting out an “oof” when my stomach collided with it.

Brushing the hood from my eyes, I didn’t know what to do, especially with the way he was looking at me. The mirage of emotions filtering through his muddy gaze were fighting with each other, making it impossible to know what he was feeling. He was a hard person to read, but I think he wanted it that way.

“Come on,” he grunted, tearing his eyes from mine. He lifted his hand to mine in a gesture that felt like more than just keeping me from tripping again. I stared at his outstretched hand, the rain falling harder around us. His eyes drew me in again, leveling me with a ‘what are you waiting for’ look. The rain must’ve been sapping away whatever excuses I had not to meet him halfway, but even then, I found myself reaching out, mindlessly accepting his offer. The empath in me had a good sense and feeling of a person just by the energy they gave off. As strange as it sounded, the vibe this man was giving off wasn’t unpleasant…

It made me feel safe. His words didn’t match whatever intentions he had with me. I could always be wrong, but if he wanted to do something to hurt me, he had every opportunity to do so.

He led me to my car, our hands still connected. He let go first, making me feel colder, though my skin burned with his contact. We both stood there for a moment, the only sound ringing through the air was the sound of the raindrops as they slammed against the trees and ground. My eyes were directed to the ground as I wordlessly slid my hands down my covered body—a motion I felt him watch closely. I gripped the hem of his hoodie before his voice stopped me.

“Keep it.” I looked up just as a bead of rain slid to his lips. When it reached his top lip, his tongue darted out, catching the drop before humming in appreciation. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, taking my hands away from the hem. I didn’t know how to react to his words. This man was like an open book and a closed-off puzzle at the same time, his constant mood shifts giving me whiplash. “Thank you.”

“Get in your car; I wouldn’t want you to get any more wet.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling nervous jitters course through me, and his eyes darkened at my obvious reaction. His innuendo wasn’t lost on me, and going by the smirk on his face, I didn’t think it was intended for me to miss it, either. I needed to leave before I made even more of a fool out of myself. That, and the rain was cold and uncomfortable.

“What about you? You don’t have anything to shield you from the rain.”

“It’s cute you’re worried about me,” mirth danced in his eyes as he opened the car door for me, “but you don’t need to worry. It’s gonna take more than some rain to take me out.”

I hoped so, because there wasn’t any doubt in my mind we’d both be getting a nasty cold from this rain. I slipped past him, sitting in my seat, shivering slightly as the wet clothes soaked into my skin under my weight. He stood there, my car door open, giving me the chance to take one last look at him.

The way he just stood there, the rain cascading over him and making his hair stick to his face, gave me the urge to brush it away, but I resisted. “My name’s Nyla.” I had no idea what compelled me to introduce myself to him, but I knew I just couldn’t watch him walk away without him knowing it.

The corner of his lips turned up, but he made no attempt to introduce himself. “See you around, pretty girl.”

He shut the car door with a resounding thud, standing there staring at me for a few seconds before he walked back over to the oak tree just a few yards away. Just as he was about to disappear behind the tree, he must’ve felt me still staring at him, because he craned his neck in my direction and winked, indicating he knew I couldn’t take my eyes off him before he disappeared into the expanse of the trees.

The view in front of me was now just an old rotting oak tree, the leaves crying when the weight of the rain was too heavy for them to bear. I looked at where he was just sitting, the bark still slightly dry from where his back was pressed against the tree.

It made my mind race with what just happened—thoughts of the stranger I just met in a monsoon in the middle of a graveyard, and the spirits surrounding us, witnessing our unconventional meeting.

Maybe I should fear his threats… I shook my head, telling myself they were nothing but idle threats—or at least, to be wary of the stranger with the bottomless eyes I couldn’t seem to forget. Instead, my eyes remained glued to the spot where I saw him, trying to get the rain to wash away the sorrow that surrounded him like a veil until he noticed my presence.

Out of a mirage of emotions, one stuck out the most, and it wasn’t one he made me feel. No, it was the one I’d seen when I first approached him.

The haunted look in his eyes he didn’t mask quick enough when he noticed me. Was he here to grieve alone in a place where he suspected no one to be? Was this a safe place for him to release pent-up emotions, and I just invaded it, making it nothing more than a tainted place? Is what haunts him the reason he wanted to be saved? Usually when someone says they want to be saved, they want to be rescued.

But I think he just wanted to die.

CHAPTER 2

Nyla

I  heard the gravel crunch under Oakley’s car as she pulled next to mine. Grabbing my things, I hopped out of my car, wanting to get rid of the soaked clothing. I ran around to the driver’s side, getting in the seat directly behind Oakley while trying to ignore the two obvious stares from the front seat.

Oakley’s voice cut through the silence in the car. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t know how to answer. Physically, besides my cold skin and chattering teeth, I was fine. But mentally and emotionally…? Well, that was a different story. I was still having a hard time processing what had just happened. “Yeah, I just want to get out of here.”

“I have a blanket in my trunk if you want it.”

I nodded; anything that could warm me up was welcomed. Relief flooded me as I reached into the open trunk of her hatchback and grabbed the blanket. “I need to get out of these clothes.”

“Just put them on the floorboard, please.” I understood, feeling bad for getting the seat drenched. I quickly stripped, wrapping myself in the thick blanket and sighing in contentment. I was still in my bra and underwear, which were uncomfortably wet, but at least I could get out of the majority of my soaked clothes.

“Is your dad coming to get your car?” Oakley asked, turning her attention back to me.

“Yeah, he’s out of town with Uncle Rand, but they’re on their way back to get it.” I didn’t want the conversation on me anymore; I needed to be distracted. Instead, I looked over at the passenger seat. “You doing okay, Jos?”

She looked over her shoulder at me, her usual sunny expression clouded with gloom. “I’m fine… Just worried about Jordyn.”

I gave a small smile because what could you say? Her sister disappeared like this frequently, always taking Joslyn’s car, even if she hid the keys at night. Joslyn never knew if she was coming back, she just hoped her sister would.

Silence filled the car as Oakley pulled away. My skin prickled, nerves on end as I felt like I was being watched. I turned to look out the window, swearing I saw a shadow lurk just beyond the trees. I rested my hand against the car window, the coolness of the glass soaking into my palm as I watched the dark figure disappear just as quickly as it had appeared.

I sighed, the condensation settling on the window as I listened to the mix of rain and the soft music playing in the car. The dull life I lived through my dad’s overbearing protectiveness—seemingly hiding me from the outside world—didn’t prepare me for today. Being homeschooled, my life was a sheltered one, but a good one, full of fun memories of my grandma and me.

Poppy Oak’s was my introduction to the real world. Moving in with Oakley was my first taste of freedom. Nursing school was my first step toward the future.

The man in the graveyard was my first dose of skepticism that everything might not be as it seemed.

Today would be choked up as a once-in-a-lifetime scene I read in the guilty pleasure books I borrowed from Oakley. I put my head against the cool glass as I tried to calm my nerves, closing my eyes to drown my thoughts with darkness.

It wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again, anyway.

The biggest mistake of your life was telling me where you worked.

Hopefully.

It’d been a week since my encounter with the mysterious man at the graveyard. He’d been on my mind more than I liked to admit—I even considered going back to the graveyard just to see if he was still there underneath the old oak tree.

“What’s on your mind?” I jumped at Joslyn’s voice, not expecting to hear it, especially when my mind was somewhere else. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I brushed off her apology. “Just a lot on my mind lately, I guess.”

She smiled widely. “Of course! Nursing school! That’s an amazing accomplishment, Nyla. I’m so proud of you.” Her voice turned soft. “I know she is, too.”

I felt the back of my eyes burn. Joslyn was more than just a manager to me; she was someone I admired. Hearing her say I was making her proud, but especially my grandma, really did something to me. “It wasn’t easy.”

She shook her head, though the smile was still present on her face. “Nothing worth having in life is easy.”

Feeling entirely too vulnerable, and my eyes still burning with the threat of tears, I turned the conversation on her. “How’re you doing?”

After my car broke down, Dad had it towed into a shop. They said the starter was shot, and I had no idea if that was a major deal or not since I knew nothing about cars. But according to him, it was a simple fix, and I had my car back within a day. Joslyn, however, was still asking for rides, since apparently, her sister was still missing. Honestly, it wasn’t unusual for Jordyn. She would disappear for days, sometimes weeks at a time, and then she’d show up looking like she hadn’t slept, eaten, or showered for weeks. The first time it happened, Joslyn was worried and called the police, who ended up finding her.

And Joslyn came into work the next day with a bruise on her cheek and no light in her green eyes. Whenever we asked her what had happened, she’d shake her head and mumble something about staying out of her twin’s business.

I begged her to move out when I saw her like that—we offered to find an apartment the three of us could share, and until then, she’d be more than welcome to take our couch. She just smiled and refused, saying her sister needed her and she wasn’t going to give up on her. While Joslyn’s personality was as bright as the sun, I was worried Jordyn was going to extinguish the light within her permanently.

That’s why I felt bad when the mood changed around her, her light dimming as her eyes turned sad and her smiled deflated. “She’s still gone.”

I wanted to berate Jordyn—point out every single flaw and the abundant hurt she was causing her sister—but the rational part of me knew pointing out the obvious about someone Joslyn cared deeply for wouldn’t help the situation. “Any word on her whereabouts?”

She shook her head. “No, but she’ll come back.” She turned to me, her eyes glossy with tears, her voice small and shaky. “Right?”

Even though touch wasn’t a love language of mine, it certainly was Joslyn’s. She showed her affection with touch and gestures, which was why I pulled her into a hug. “She’ll come back, Jos. She always does,” I whispered as I rubbed her back softly.

She wrapped her arms around me before she let her walls down. “It’s so lonely without her. I…”

“You what?” I pulled back, sliding my hands to her forearms as my forehead scrunched in concern.

I could tell she was fighting with herself to tell me. She locked her problems with Jordyn away, not wanting anyone to know how bad it truly was between them. Her smile told me she wasn’t going to tell me the truth, and I understood I couldn’t force her to tell me her whole story. Shockingly, she confessed in a low voice, “I feel like I’m being watched.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“When Jordyn’s not there, I feel like someone’s just standing at my window. I’m too scared to see if someone’s actually there, so I just try my best to sleep and ignore it.” I could tell it wasn’t working well—the concealer she wore under her eyes did nothing to hide the dark circles amplifying my concern. She already had so much to deal with, she didn’t deserve anymore added stress.

“You can text me anytime, you know, even if it’s three in the morning.” I was always concerned about Joslyn, but now that fear for her well-being was intensified. “I’ll come over to get you, or I’ll stay the night.” Or call the police. But I knew better than to do that. If I did, the next time I saw Joslyn would be on the news in a ditch.

“I know you would, but you know I can’t do that. I have to be there in case something happens to Jordyn.” Which meant overdose or get beaten, and unfortunately, both have happened. “And I don’t want anything to happen to you if you stay the night because of me.”

I knew what she was getting at. Jordyn’s… acquaintances were dangerous. I hated that Joslyn was under their radar just because of who her sister was. The littlest thing set them off, and there was no telling what my presence there would make them do. I just wondered why she stayed and allowed herself to be treated that way. She had so much within her grasp, but Jordyn held the leash that was holding her back.

The bell rang, signaling the door was opened. A handful of women came in, all smiles as they came to the counter. A younger woman was flanked by two older ladies, while three younger ladies trailed behind them, all dressed in similar colors of light purple and beige. Looks like a wedding consultation with how they were dressed. This would be a good way to diffuse the heavy conversation we just had.

“Please come again!” I chirped, waving at the lovely group of ladies who came in thirty minutes prior. The door opening created a draft, and I shivered. I was a wimp when it came to the cold, which I blamed on my genetics. I was cursed or blessed with a fast metabolism, just depends on who you ask. And because my metabolism was fast, I was a little too thin, so I’ve always gotten cold easily. I lived in long sleeves and comfortable sweatpants, but for the past week, I had a new favorite I wore.

Walking to the back of the store, I dug through my backpack and pulled out the black sweatshirt the man at the graveyard gave me. The material was thick, keeping me warm and covered compared to my other sweatshirts.

Plus, it had the added bonus of holding his musky scent, which had slightly faded from washing it after the rainstorm.

I told myself I would give it back to him if I ever saw him again, but until then, it was the only hoodie I had that was both warm and had pockets. Whenever the female fashion industry prioritized comfort over pleasure, like they did with men’s clothing, maybe I’d switch back to my own.

I threw the sweatshirt over my head as the sound of the door chimed again. I vaguely heard Joslyn greet the customer before she shouted, “Nyla! A customer’s here to see you!”

I adjusted my hoodie and made sure the hood was lying flat in the back as I cocked my head to the side. A customer? For me? Confused, I put on my best customer service smile as I passed the threshold to the front of the store. “Hi, may I help—” My mouth went dry, eyes widening when I saw who it was. “You?”

He turned to look at me with the same smirk as the previous week—the same smirk that had flooded my daydreams ever since. “Hey there.” The intensity in his eyes as he took in my attire made my face burn. “Nice hoodie.”

I swallowed back the lump in my throat as my eyes wearily took in the man in front of me.

‘I’m going to teach you why you shouldn’t approach all the monsters you see.’

Sweat prickled my skin as his words floated in my mind. What have I done? What is he going to do?

“I’m gonna go get caught up on online orders. Get me if you need anything, okay?” I nodded absentmindedly; my mind full of possibilities of worse-case scenarios. My eyes remained locked on the man in front of me, who’s stare hadn’t left mine since he walked inside.

“Just gonna keep lookin’ at me or are you going to help me?”

I shook my head and let out a breath. “What can I help you with?” I didn’t know how I felt about him following through with his obviously not-so idle threat, but the back of my mind was telling me if his intentions weren’t good, then he would’ve hurt me last week.

“Was just thinking about what you said ‘bout the flowers.” He shrugged, his biceps slightly rippling under the hunter-green sleeves of his Henley. I didn’t miss the way his hair was shorter, how the sides were closely shaved but the longer hair on top swooped to his right side. Absently, I watched as he twiddled a daisy petal from the nearby flowerpot. “Figured I’d take your advice and get some.”

“Of course.” My tone was guarded, trying to predict his next move. But just like last week, he was hard to read. “What ones do you need?”

“Something that symbolizes…” He paused, his smile resembling stone. He stood quietly as he tried to identify the symbolism of the flowers he wanted. His attention turned toward a rose, his fingers brushing against the petal. “Memorial. Remembrance.” His hand slipped from the petal, falling heavily to his side before he lowered his voice. “Forgiveness.”

“We have red poppy flowers,” I responded gently to his vulnerable words. I could hear the tinge of despair he tried to hide, but he wasn’t successful. “They symbolize remembrance.”

The way the corner of his lips curved was intoxicating, his eyes far away as his attention was still on the bed of flowers in front of him. “You know best, pretty girl.”

There was that nickname that stirred the butterflies in my stomach again. I couldn’t dwell on it; I needed a distraction from the foreign feeling. “Name for the order?”

“Mitchell Walker.” His name rolled off his tongue smoothly, the Southern drawl making me think he was from the south rather than our small city in Utah. “You told me your first name. What’s your full name?”

I glanced at him, debating on telling him before turning my attention to writing his price slip. “Nyla Brooks.”

“Nyla Brooks.” The way he repeated my name felt almost seductive. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

He certainly had turned up the charm compared to last week. I felt heat spread to my cheeks as my teeth favored my bottom lip—a motion his eyes followed hungrily. “Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what? Pretty girl?” I nodded, making him look at me as if I grew another head. “I’m sure you own a mirror, Nyla. Every single part of you,” his eyes roamed my body in appreciation, “is pretty.”

The laugh that left my lips was nothing short of embarrassing. I wasn’t used to this type of attention from men. Being Grandma’s full-time caregiver didn’t give me a lot of free time, and then after she passed, I threw myself in my studies to try to get into nursing school. I haven’t put a lot of thought into relationships, but now I had a break before nursing school took over my life. Maybe I was ready to start looking for a relationship…

Or maybe it already found me. I’m getting way ahead of myself; this is only the second time I’ve met him.

“I can get your order ready in thirty minutes. If you want to go grab food or something, it should be done by the time you get back.”

“Any rules about stickin’ around and watchin’ you work?” he asked, leaning his tattooed forearm against the counter. The gem of his silver-banded bracelet clanged against the countertop, drawing my attention to the unique swirl of amber and sapphire in the center, making me wonder if there was any significance behind it.

“Ah, no.” I looked for any excuse to tell him yes, but I couldn’t think of a decent one. Besides, what would I say? Yes, there is a strict rule about handsome, mysterious strangers watching the girl they met at a graveyard—and coincidentally, had mildly threatened—make a flower arrangement. In truth, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get through making his bouquets because he was very distracting. “It’s just gonna be boring watching me.”

“Doubt that.” He leaned his chin on his palm, the mirth from the week before returning to his eyes. “Watching you squirm whenever I look at you is becoming one of my favorite pastimes.”

My lips turned down at his snarky reply. “I wouldn’t be mean. I know where the scissors are.”

“The kitten has claws,” he drawled, but I ignored him as I walked over to the red poppy flowers, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. I walked back, trying my best to ignore the burning of my skin under his scrutinizing gaze. I kept my eyes firmly on the red blooms while I took slow, shaky steps back to the counter.

The more time that passed with him watching me, the more it made my everyday task seem so much more difficult. Instead of easily being able to assemble this simple bouquet—far simpler than any I had done in the past week—I found myself lost and struggling with my steps. I had to at least try to start a conversation with him to ease the tremors so I didn’t accidentally hurt myself. “So, who are these for?”

He stood up straight, the aura around him darkening with his mood. I paused from my task, noticing his eyes were more fire than the teasing they held just moments ago. He seemed to be fighting himself before he finally said, “How did you word it? Someone you miss more than anything? Well, I’ve got two someone’s.”

His change from easy-going to borderline aggravation bothered me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“Not mad.” He shrugged it off, even though I could tell he was still slightly on edge. “Normal question to ask.”

“I only grabbed enough to make one bouquet—” I began to walk out from around the counter before he put his hand out, stopping me.

“Let me.” The twinkle in his eyes returned, and I took a step back. Copying my earlier movements, he moved and grabbed the poppy flowers out of the pots. “Maybe you can teach me how to make one of these bouquets.”

Acting as if he owned the place, he came behind the counter, grabbed the same sheet of wrapping paper I did, and copied my previous steps of wrapping a few of the flowers and tying it tightly. It looked so bizarre seeing such a large man handling delicate flowers any tying such a perfect bow.

“What’s next?”

“Uh…” I looked back at my project in front of me, desperately wracking my brain to remember the basic steps. “You just take the rest of the flowers and stick them in the wrapping paper. It makes the flowers stand out more.”

I didn’t think he would appreciate if I laughed at the way his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration as he did as I instructed. It was hard to stifle it when he looked at me for approval. “Like this?”

“Perfect.” I smiled as he set the bouquet down before going to the other side. “Why did you go over there?”

His egocentric smirk returned. “What, pretty girl? Miss me already?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his attempt to flirt. “Can’t miss you if you haven’t even left.”

I felt his eyes watch my movements as I prepared the other bouquet for him. But unlike earlier, I felt more at ease. Once I was finished, I inhaled the fresh floral scent—the smell had been like home to me for the past few years. “Poppy flowers are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are.” I turned to him, my smile slightly faltering in surprise when I noticed he was looking at me instead of the bouquet. His eyes looked far away, deep in thought.

He didn’t take his eyes off me like I couldn’t him. I swear, after a few moments, he started to lean in slightly, but that would be crazy. This was our most convectional meeting, but it was only our second one. I knew for the past week he’s been a constant on my mind, but I couldn’t imagine the same being said for him. The few pecks I’ve had over the years would all but be forgotten if I allowed this man to touch his lips to mine.

And am I crazy for wanting him to? Probably.

He leaned in so our faces were directly in front of each other, and his breath was ghosting my lips as they did our previous meeting. When I felt just a whisper of them on mine, he chuckled, the chilled sound causing goosebumps to jump on my skin.

Why is he laughing?

“There you go again, letting the monster in.” He pulled back, leveling me with a look that said I messed up by letting him get so close. “It’s going to cost you letting me in, pretty girl.”

If he was aiming to make me feel dumb for giving my vulnerability to a total stranger, he more than succeeded. He said something similar to me last week, though a small part of me had rationalized he was just saying that to play with his prey.

Which, apparently, was me.

And I didn’t know how to feel about the way he was playing with me. My mind was telling me to do anything to stay away from him—that he was as dangerous as his words were, that he was blessed with undeniable charm to draw his prey in…

But my heart told me it was already too late to get out of his snare.

I put my head down, shame coursing through me that I was going to let a man I’ve met twice kiss me. I rang his order up, my tone flat as I told him his total, “Seventy, even.”

I watched as he dug into his pocket, pulling a hundred from his wallet. I grabbed his change from the register and handed it over, not expecting him to put it in our barren tip jar. “Sorry it’s not much of a tip, but I’ll give you some advice to make up for it.”

Thirty dollars is the best tip we’ve ever gotten. Curious, I looked at him, hoping he could tell how much I wanted to know what he was going to say through my eyes since I didn’t trust my voice.

“Ready?” I nodded slowly, not liking the way his lips flattened. I was used to his devilish smirks, not the seriousness he was displaying now. “Don’t trust me, pretty girl.”

“Who says I trust you?”

“Say you don’t trust me all you want, but your actions sure as hell say you do. Didn’t your dad ever teach you never to play with monsters, pretty girl?”

“He’s protected me from all my monsters,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure he heard me until his lips turned up.

“Well, daddy can’t protect you from me.”

I took a step back, my brows furrowed. “Does he have a reason to protect me from you?”

He chuckled, beginning to walk backward toward the door, letting his silence answer my question as an unpleasant burn spread in my stomach. The logical part of me was screaming that he was dangerous, but the way he made my heart race drowned out the warnings. I was so distracted by watching him go toward the exit that I didn’t even notice he didn’t grab his bouquets.

“Hey!” He paused, still facing me. “Your flowers?”

“Keep ‘em.” He turned his hand on the push-bar, throwing me one last look over his shoulder. “Remember me when I’m gone?”

“I don’t think I could forget you,” I murmured. If he heard me, he made no indication of it.

“Keep my hoodie safe for me; it’s my favorite one now.” He turned, walking out the door and out of sight, taking my breath with him. I was surprised I didn’t feel any whiplash from the large range of emotions he showed in such a short period of time. Instead, my head was revolving around the fact that he told me I was wearing his favorite hoodie. But it wasn’t his favorite before. Is it his favorite now because I’ve been wearing it?

This man was toying with me, drawing me in and kicking me out. He told me not to trust him, he made me feel like his prey… and I couldn’t help but be utterly fascinated by him. Was it because I’ve never experienced someone quite like him? Was this the thrill teens got when they snuck out of the house to meet the person their parents didn’t want them dating?

If so, I could see why their impulses fueled their actions, despite the trouble lurking around the corner every time. I never had that phase growing up, so I had nothing to compare it to.

“Everything go well with your friend?” I turned, seeing Joslyn walk out of the backroom with a sly grin before looking at the counter. “Whose flowers are these?”

“His.” I found my voice again, even though my throat was dry. “He gave them to me to remember him by.”

Her eyebrows scrunched, looking as confused as I felt. “Are you never going to see him again or something?”

“No.” I shook my head, looking out the door Mitchell just walked out of before I answered, barely above a whisper, “I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

“Uh, what?”

I had to suppress my laugh at how wide her eyes were, like they were about to pop right out of her head. It was an expression I should’ve expected since my words were pretty jarring and uncharacteristic. “Nothing, just talking to myself.”

The concern in her eyes was palpable. “Are you safe, Ny?”

I looked at the door again. “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER 3

Nyla

“A re you sure you can’t join us tonight?” I asked Joslyn over the phone as Oakley pulled into the supermarket. Once a month we had a girls’ night, full of movies and junk food. It was something we all looked forward to.

“Jordyn came back… She’s in rough shape.” Her voice sounded tired and slightly conflicted. “I think I should take her to the hospital—”

“You’re not taking me to a fucking hospital!” Jordyn’s voice was distant but clear as she yelled at her sister. “I’m fine! I don’t need you!”

Joslyn’s watery sigh came through the receiver, pulling at my heartstrings. “I can’t leave.”

“Did you need us to come over?” By Jordyn’s tone, Joslyn was in for a lot of hurt, and I was concerned about her wellbeing. “Joslyn—”

“No. I’ve been taking care of her coming off her high for a while. I’m used to her being like this.” She tried to sound strong, but she couldn’t hide the crackling in her tone. “Besides, I can’t trust that anyone else will take care of her like I will. Her friends… while she thinks they care, they don’t. She’s just a place to them—somewhere they can go to get high—a nobody. And I get it. She’s not a great person, but…” Joslyn drew out a breath, “but she’s my twin, my other half, and someone has to care about her, even if she doesn’t care about herself.”

“Will you text me if something happens at least?” I was going to worry regardless, but I hoped she’d give me her word that she would ask for help if needed. I was told that Jordyn was rarely violent, but even once was enough. I didn’t want a repeat of dull-eyed Joslyn with a bruise on her cheek. “Joslyn—”

“I will.” Incoherent screams were muffled over the receiver, followed by Joslyn’s frantic intake of breath before she rushed out, “Talk to you later, Nyla.”

Silence took over her end as I pulled my phone from my ear, frowning when I saw she’d hung up. Worry churned in my gut at how the call ended.

“Did she change her mind?” Oakley asked from beside me, frowning when I shook my head. “Is she okay at least?”

“I hope so,” I admitted, not knowing if she was or not. “Are we bad friends if we don’t go over to check on her?”

“No. We’re respecting her wishes. Jordyn’s in a dangerous state of mind, and if we interfere, it could make the situation a lot worse for Joslyn. If she really needs us, she’ll come to us.” Oakley may be the quietest of the three of us, but she was also the wisest.

“I guess…” I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. I didn’t know how to handle someone coming down off a drug-related high, but the snippet I heard over the phone with Jordyn was enough. I don’t know how Joslyn does it. “Girls’ night is delayed.”

“I need to get a few baking things, anyway.” Oakley ran a small bakery business out of our kitchen while picking up some shifts at Poppy Oak’s to save up for a storefront one day. “Plus, we’re out of coffee.”

I laughed. “How are you even alive right now?”

Oakley was a caffeine addict. I was pretty sure she kept our local coffee shop in business by herself. She shot me a teasing grin. “Barely.”

“Go get your stuff; I’ll get a few snacks for us.” She nodded, taking her cart in the opposite direction as I immediately headed to the section I didn’t need but wanted anyway—the sweets aisle.

I have a massive sweet tooth—there’s nothing sugar couldn’t fix for me. I helped Oakley with her baking, but honestly, I just licked the spoon and made some deliveries—not to mention I was Oak’s taste-tester whenever she was trying out a new recipe. I burned everything I touched in the kitchen. She was kind enough to pay me for my time—not in money, but by baking my favorite treats, which was something I didn’t mind one bit.

I rounded the corner to the candy aisle, making sure to get our favorite treats. I was a sucker for anything chocolate with caramel, and I picked up some dark chocolate for Oakley. Then I started to head toward every woman’s favorite part of the store, the wine section.

Passing the endcap, a familiar floral scent wafted through the air. I spotted a small flower display with various arrangements in vases with balloons and bouquets. Red caught my eye, drawing my attention to the red poppies in a small pot in the middle of the aisle.

My mind wandered to my earlier interaction with Mitchell. Just thinking about his deep Southern accent, charming smile, and hazel eyes sent my heart into a frenzy. The heart that brushed off his bad attitude, that cunning smile sure to melt the panties off any willing female, his maybe-not-so idle threats…

Maybe I was colorblind, ignoring all the red flags he was throwing my way.

But my intrigue overtook the rational part of my brain. It wasn’t a good reason, but it was the only one I had.

Crash!

I was so lost in my thoughts that I was just mindlessly wandering like an idiot in the store, not paying attention to my surroundings. “Oh my God, I’m so—”

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.”

My body stilled, recognizing the deep Southern drawl that was at the forefront of my mind just minutes before—as if my mind had summoned him to the wine aisle. Slowly, I craned my neck, the light fixture illuminating the mossy color of his eyes and his condescending smile.

Mitchell Walker.

The man who told me to stay away from him, but somehow showed up everywhere I was. The man who had my brain begging me to run, but my heart reminding me that he would find me if I did.

Would I like the chase?

Probably not more than he would…

The way his mossy-colored eyes were looking at me, like he just found what he’d been looking for, made the red flags look pretty gray to me.

He infiltrated my thoughts; he ceased my ability to speak, to think. How could I have such a strong reaction to this man? Why was it with every warning he threw my way, I took it as the green light to push the boundaries he was setting, but neither of us were respecting?

I didn’t quite understand it myself. This was why I wished I had buckled down and had at least some experience with men—maybe then I wouldn’t be so lost on how to react with him. But even if I did, no one would ever compare to Mitchell Walker. Nothing in my life could’ve ever prepared me for a man like him.

“Disappointed to see me?” he teased at my blatant gawking.

“Yes!” I blurted out without thinking. “I mean, n-no. I mean, nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” My unease fueled his deep chuckle. If his hand wasn’t gripping the edge of my cart, I would’ve attempted to escape. But his grip prevented me from doing so, and I think that’s exactly what he wanted. His eyes roamed to my cart, no doubt noting the various items. “Busy weekend?”

“Yeah.” My weekend was filled with being Oakley’s taste-tester and helping her with deliveries. “I’m off this weekend, so I try to keep busy on my days off.” Liar. Eating your weight in sugar and passing out doesn’t count as a busy weekend. Mitchell didn’t need to know that, though.

“I see.” His eyes roamed from the cart to my face, making me feel self-conscious. I was still in my disheveled work outfit and probably smelled like moss. I didn’t bother looking in a mirror, but I knew I probably looked like a mess. “That’s a shame.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He lifted his shoulder casually. “I was gonna come by the shop tomorrow and take you out for lunch.”

That stunned me silent, my mind having a difficult time processing what he just told me. Didn’t he tell me not to trust him, to stay away from him? And if he was serious about that, then why was he planning to take me on a date? My mind was swirling with no clear answer in sight. “I’m not working until Monday.” That wasn’t even an answer, and honestly, any answer was better than that.

“I’ll be picking you up around noon. Be ready.” He wasn’t asking me on a date; he was telling me he was going to take me on one. I wouldn’t have believed him if it wasn’t for the confidence in his tone.

He stepped closer to me, so close that his musky cologne halted my internal battle about calling out on Monday. He lifted his hand to my cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb gently caressing the soft flesh before he whispered, “Until Monday, pretty girl.”

He turned, walking out of the aisle without a backward glance at my stunned-silent form. I hated the way he said pretty girl. That Southern accent of his was like a master key, able to unlock any part of me he wanted to control, and I was powerless to stop whatever it was he wanted to do with me. And instead of warning me away, he wanted me closer.

Were men always this confusing?

Maybe I should call in on Monday.

You could, but you know he’d just find you if you did.

Would he, though? Part of me was tempted to test the theory, while the other wanted to make it easy for him—for now.

“Hey, Nyla, I got that merlot you like. They also had some baked cherry pie flavor I figured we’d try.” I heard Oakley’s voice, but it wasn’t registering. I didn’t answer her, my eyes still glued on the spot where Mitchell was as I absentmindedly twirling the ring on my necklace over my fingers. “Nyla? What happened?”

“You know that guy I was telling you about…?” I dragged my eyes to meet Oakley’s. “The one who came into the store and left me his flowers?”

“Yeah?”

“I just ran into him.” Literally. “He told me he’s coming to the shop on Monday to take me on a date.”

Her eyes widened. “You said yes?”

“I didn’t say yes,” I countered, though my voice was as weak as my argument. “He just said he was coming to pick me up for lunch.”

“Are you going to go through with it?”

“I don’t think he’s giving me a choice.” I imagined if I stood him up, he’d just wait at Poppy Oak’s day in and day out until I finally showed up. I didn’t want Claudia to have him arrested for trespassing, nor did I want her asking questions, especially when I had no answers.

“Are you going to tell your dad?”

Should I? He’s never been receptive to the idea of me dating. He was one of those ‘I’m not allowed to date until I’m forty’ dads. He’s made it his life’s mission to make every man steer clear of me—something I’ve always hated. Maybe if I was less sheltered, then I would be navigating whatever this is between me and Mitchell much better instead of just relying on a prayer.

“But you don’t know a thing about this man!” Oakley threw her arms out wide, her voice increasing over the canned music in the store. “He could be luring you in for something dangerous.”

“I know.” His words were sharp, but his actions had been the opposite. Actions speak louder than words, don’t they? I chuckled lightly before jesting, “I can’t even imagine what your dad is going to do when you get a man’s attention.”

Oakley was a textbook daddy’s girl through and through, and I didn’t envy the man who caught my best friend’s affection. There was already an unmarked grave lying in his wake.

“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that ever again.” Her voice was soft, and I instantly slammed my mouth shut at my insensitivity.

My mouth worked faster than my brain did sometimes. “Oakley—”

“It’s okay.” Her tone was off, letting me know it wasn’t okay, but knew she didn’t want to discuss him. I bit the inside of my cheek, hating to even make him cross her mind. I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed silent as we made our way to the check-out counter.

I knew what would cheer Oakley up, even though I’d rather have a root canal. “Hey… want to go shopping?” I asked as the cashier started to ring up our items.

Shopping was Oakley’s kryptonite, and she instantly perked up. She always made sure she looked her best—years ago, she confided in me that it made her feel good about herself. I never understood that, especially since my usual MO consisted of oversized crew necks paired with sweatpants or leggings. “What’s the occasion? You hate shopping.” She paused loading the bags into the cart to lift a brow at me.

“Shopping cheers you up.” I shrugged as I slid my card into the reader. “Besides, I need some nice clothes for nursing school.” While that was true, it wasn’t my main reason for wanting to go shopping. I was twenty-two years old, and I didn’t have anything to wear for my… date. Was it a date if you were being forced to go? I didn’t know. “I just figured since our plans got pushed back, we could do some retail therapy. Unless you have a lot of orders to do…”

She shook her head. “No, I got caught up with most orders yesterday. I was just going to make some things for the homeless and domestic shelters to pass around this weekend, but I can always do that after we shop.”

I smiled at my best friend as we left the store. She loved sharing her gift with the less fortunate. “I’ll help you pass them out.”

She was quiet as we loaded the bags into the car and returned the cart. I knew she wouldn’t pass up a shopping trip, just like she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of having me help her pass the treats out.

“You’re not going to help me bake, though, right?” She laughed as she turned her car on. “I don’t want you near our oven; I’d rather not get a visit from the landlord about why there’s a burnt smell coming from our apartment.”

My pout was half-hearted. I knew I wasn’t to be trusted in a kitchen; I’ve burnt water before, which I thought was impossible until I discovered first-hand it wasn’t. “Just for that, you’re going to help me pick out my outfit.”

“You were going to make me pick it out, anyway.” She wasn’t wrong; another thing I was useless at was fashion. I used to wonder if it was because I grew up without a mom, and Grandma wasn’t a big shopper—maybe Grandma’s aversion to stores in general had shaped my own preferences early on. Luckily, Oakley lived for it and had fantastic taste to boot. It was engraved in her best friend duties—my personal baker and shopper.

She’d make sure I looked my best for Mitchell on Monday.

I stepped into Poppy Oak’s, the heels of my ankle boots echoing on the hardwood floors, my curled brown hair bouncing off my shoulders as confidence radiated off me. I watched as Joslyn came from the backroom, a giant smile on her face before she recognized it was me. Her lips fell open in surprise. “Wow, Nyla! You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” I felt gorgeous—something I wasn’t used to feeling. I knew I wasn’t ugly, I just didn’t put a lot of effort into my appearance most days—that extra ten minutes of sleep was worth looking like I just crawled out of a dumpster. And since I didn’t put the effort in on the regular, when I got ready, it wasn’t without some casualties.

But the outfit Oakley picked out for me was on point. The loose burgundy tank top flowed just over the waistband of my new black skinny jeans, which we paired with a cute pair of brown ankle boots with half-inch heels. It would be a miracle if I didn’t break my neck today.

Not only that, but my face felt heavy from the make-up I was wearing. The fake eyelashes slightly stung from the mascara drying and sticking them together, but my silver eyes resembled glitter. I also painted my lips with a burgundy-colored lipstick, the area accented by the paleness of my skin. I ignored the phantom pain on the back of my head that was from when I held the curling iron a little too close for comfort.

Once I was done, I remember looking in the mirror, feeling beautiful on the inside. Whether that beauty translated to my appearance didn’t matter to me right now—that was likely to change whenever Mitchell showed up… if he even showed up. Maybe he was just playing with me like he had been ever since the day we met.

The center of my chest throbbed at the thought of getting stood up by him.

“What are you all dressed up for?” Joslyn’s voice broke me out of my musings.

I didn’t want to tell her, but there’d be no way to hide it if he actually showed up. “You remember the guy who left his flowers behind last week?”

She leaned against the counter, obviously ready for me to delve into the story. “Uh-huh.”

“He’s taking me on a date.”

“Why am I just now hearing about this!” I winced at her screech as she flew around the counter to face me. “So I guess you guys really hit it off?”

My face flushed, giving Joslyn all the information I didn’t necessarily want to provide, but the hard set of her jaw let me know I wasn’t going to get away with skirting around what actually happened. “Not exactly…”

“So why did you say yes to the date? That doesn’t really sound like you, Ny.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly need an answer to a question he never really asked. It was more like a demand—”

“He what?”

Anxiety pooled low in my stomach at the concern in Joslyn’s eyes. “He… he kinda just said he’d pick me up for lunch…”

“I can’t believe he demanded a date, and you actually agreed!”

“I didn’t exactly agree—”

“If you didn’t agree, then why are you all dolled up?” she questioned with a teasing lint, her previous concern overshadowed by my appearance. “You don’t ever put an effort into your appearance; in fact, I can count on one hand the times you’ve gotten dressed up, and we’ve known each other for four years, Nyla.”

My brain wracked for an answer I didn’t have. Was it my impulse? Was it his command? Was it the thrill of a man actually showing blatant interest in me while my dad wasn’t here to interfere? So many questions that didn’t have an answer yet. “I guess I’m excited.”

“I’m happy for you.” Joslyn’s excitement dwindled as her words turned serious. “Just be careful, okay? After what happened with Oakley…”

“I know.” What happened to Oakley in high school was something that affected her until this day. She never talked about it to us, her parents, or her court-ordered therapist. No one truly knew everything that happened that night, but I didn’t think I could stomach the details even if I did. “It’s just one date, Jos.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Startled, Joslyn and I turned to the source of the deep voice. I could ignore how Mitchell stealthily snuck in unnoticed, but one thing I couldn’t ignore was the way my mouth watered as I took in his appearance.

The black and gray flannel he wore fit him perfectly, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, leaving his tribal tattoo and bracelet on full display. His denim jeans snagged on his thick thighs before flowing to rest on top of his boots. The biggest change, though, was his hair. “You cut your hair.”

He looked sheepish, running his hand along the now short sides, leaving a mop of dirty blond on the top. The strands were spread haphazardly, like he’d been running his hands through them all morning. “You like?”

If only he knew how hot my body felt just by looking at him, but he could probably see the tinge of red on my ghastly complexion. “You look good.”

“I’m gonna leave you two kids to it,” Joslyn teased, and I was ashamed to say I momentarily forgot she was in the room, my mind hyper-focused on Mitchell. “Have fun, and text me if you need anything, okay?”

I nodded at her. “I’ll be back later.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she sang as she walked toward the backroom, leaving us alone.

My body vibrated with the slight embarrassment from her parting words, but I didn’t have long to dwell on it as I looked at Mitchell. The hunger in his eyes was evident as he looked me up and down, his face scrunched when his eyes landed on my face. “What are you wearing?”

My heart sank, hoping that my beauty had translated on the outside since my confidence was sapped with such few words. “Make-up?”

“You don’t need it,” he said gruffly. “You’re a natural beauty, Nyla. That stuff on your hides that from me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, frustrated since I had spent over an hour on my face and nails for him. Him telling me I looked better without it wasn’t the compliment he intended it to be. “I like wearing make-up.”

“Funny, since this is the fourth time I’ve seen you, yet it’s the first time I’ve seen you wearing it,” he called out my obvious lie, his lips turning up at how my face was heating. “Your lips are too pretty to be spewing lies, pretty girl.”

I raised a challenging brow. “Who says I’m lying?”

His gaze locked with mine for a scorching second. “You have a tell.”

“How do you know that?”

“The corner of your lips twitch whenever you lie. It’s subtle, and you can only tell if you’re starting at them.” He stepped toward me, my breath catching in my throat as he leaned into my space. “Closely.”

His whisper was borderline seductive, drawing me in. My heart thumped against my chest at the thought of him watching my lips close enough to notice a lying tell I didn’t even know I had. “Are you serious?”

“Maybe.” His shrug was almost mocking, clearly still playing with me like a favorite toy. “Maybe not.”

“I’m not taking my make-up off.” My defiance was fueled by my annoyance that was growing by the second. Maybe he’d leave if I refused to take my make-up off, and I’d be able to fulfill every rom-com where I just ate ice cream, watching sappy movies, and wondering where it all went wrong. “I spent over an hour getting ready for you.”

His lips spread in a cocky grin. “Seems like you put in a lot of effort for me.” That’s really all he got from that? “You look good, pretty girl, there’s no denying that. But I don’t want you wearin’ it for our next date.”

My laugh was full of disdain. “Keep it up and there won’t even be a first date.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“It’s only proper for a man to ask a woman on a date.”

“I don’t have much in common with a proper man; I have more in common with a monster. You know what they say about monsters…” The grin that spread on his lips was crazed, an involuntary shudder running through me as I got a sneak peek of the monster inside him. “We take, regardless of the consequences.”

The truth of his words sucked the air from my lungs, momentarily paralyzing me. He’d seen the fear in my eyes—the same fear he fed off when my whisper left my lips. “What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s easier to name what’s not wrong with me.” He stood straight, holding his arm up for me, silently commanding me to grab it. “Shall we?”

I looked at his outstretched arm, fingers twitching at my side as I debated my options. He was back to his temperament when we met at the graveyard. I could always shout for Joslyn, but that would likely escalate the situation. He was in full control, and he knew it.

His smirk dared me to defy him.

I’ve spent my life being the obedient girl my dad raised me to be—never questioning, always doing what I was told, and acting as Dad expected me to, even if he wasn’t around—it was the only way I knew. My skin burned as I placed my hand on his forearm, his calloused hand securing my fingers around the muscle.

I wish I was stronger.

I wish I had let the rain wash him away.

My hand was still on his forearm as we strolled down the quiet street. We were silent by choice, the tension between us thick. I had no idea where we were going; I was just letting him lead me to what could be paradise or death.

“Feelin’ okay?” he asked, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Was he trying to have a normal conversation now?

I’m scared out of my mind at whatever mood you’re going to come at me with next. “Fine.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, you know.” The slight mockery of his words wasn’t welcomed. “Like I said, it’s just a lunch date.”

I didn’t say anything, silently keeping his pace as we strolled down the sidewalk. Apparently, he didn’t care for my silence. “I didn’t expect you to be so riled up over something so small.”

His words broke the dam inside me. A backhanded compliment was one thing, but minimizing my feelings was another thing completely. Maybe I was being a little sensitive, but for once in my life, I tried to look presentable for someone. And for him to just say I looked better without it felt like a slap in the face, diminishing the beautiful confidence I had felt earlier into dust. I let a lot of things roll off me, but not this and not with Mitchell. “It’s not small to me.” My voice was quiet as I spoke my truth, the coldness of the metal ring dangling from my neck thumping against my chest with every step. My body vibrated as I waited for his reaction; the fact that I spoke up for myself a major triumph based on my more submissive upbringing.

He halted our movements, sidestepping in front of me while waiting for me to continue, his undivided attention weighing down on me. “I spent time getting ready for you. I don’t think you realize that women are so judged by our looks that when we actually put effort into our appearances, hearing that it was a wasted effort hurt, even if your intentions were good.” I stood firm, flicking my gaze away from his. Now that I spoke up to him, I knew I couldn’t take those words away—nor did I want to return to being the quiet, obedient girl Dad had raised me to be. I wanted to challenge Mitchell, the same as he challenged me.

He studied me, considering my words. I wasn’t expecting much of a reaction out of him if our earlier argument was anything to go by. If anything, I would gladly welcome the silence, counting every second until I was away from him.

“I’m sorry.” My eyes flew open, staring at him with impossibly wide eyes. Did I hear him right? Was he apologizing? I didn’t think he even knew what sorry meant. “It was insensitive of me. Even if my intentions were meant as a compliment, you didn’t take them as one, and I should’ve accepted that instead of fighting with you about it.”

I had no words. Had a different Mitchell replaced the asshole at the shop when I briefly looked away? I was going to bill him for the whiplash he was giving me. The look in his eyes was one I hadn’t seen before; they were unsure, but one thing shone through, the sincerity of his apology. “I appreciate your apology. We’re still getting to know each other, so there’s bound to be a few tiffs, right?”

“So, I’m forgiven?” His face twisted slightly, almost as if he wasn’t used to being forgiven. People make mistakes and say things they don’t mean. It didn’t mean they couldn’t be forgiven, and depending on the severity, it was nothing a little conversation couldn’t fix.

“I know you didn’t mean it maliciously.” My eyes met his, trying to my best to look stern as I reminded myself to breathe through this conversation. “Communication is important to me. If we fight, I don’t want to dwell; I want to talk it out.”

A boyish smile broke over his face and his eyes sparkled. “So there’s going to be more chances to fight with you?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. Of course, that was what he would focus on. “Yeah, there’ll be more chances.”

His eyes dipped to my lips. “That pretty mouth of yours didn’t twitch, so I’m gonna hold you to that, pretty girl.”

My face flushed, but I tried to ignore the way his eyes were still concentrated on my mouth. “If you don’t take me to get food, I’ll change my mind.”

He chuckled, holding his elbow out for me and this time, I grabbed it without hesitancy, feeling lighter after we talked things out. “We’re almost there.”

The silence between us was comfortable as we made our way to the restaurant Mitchell had picked. We stopped in front of a strip of buildings, the sign on the door reading Red’s.

I wonder if this is new? I’ve never heard of this place before.

Mitchell stepped up to the door, holding it open for me as we stepped inside. I felt his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the hostess stand. The place looked retro, with its loud black- and white-checkered floor, to the eggshell walls cluttered with vintage signs and décor. To the right was a bar with cherry-red padded stools—the same color as the booths that lined the outer walls of the establishment.

Along the side of the bar was the hostess station, where an older woman with a kind smile stood at the podium. “Welcome, table for two?”

“Please.”

She grabbed a few menus, leading us to a booth in the back corner of the diner. There were only a few other couples in here besides the staff. Reaching the table, Mitchell gestured to me to get inside the booth before sliding in the seat across from me. Once the hostess took our drink orders, she left, leaving us alone.

I focused on my lap, unsure of what to say. I felt as if we already had enough conversation for the day, but our date had only begun. His chuckle made me lift my head. “I figured a public place would make you less nervous, but I’m guessin’ I was wrong.”

“I just don’t know how to feel about you,” I answered honestly, my leg nervously bouncing beneath the table. “One minute you’re hot, and the next you’re cold. I don’t know which personality is going to come out next.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Bi-polar.”

“What?”

“I have bi-polar disorder. Not excusing the mood swings by any means, but sometimes the impulse I feel wins.” He propped his elbow on the steel table, resting his cheek on his palm dejectedly. “It’s not always easy to pick up the pieces of the messes I make.”

My heart went out for him. I was fortunate enough to not have the daily struggle of a mental illness, but I remembered Grandma had mentioned some of the women and children she had donated clothes, toys, and books to had suffered greatly. To get up and fight with yourself every day must be exhausting. “I don’t know a lot about mental illness, but just being here together tells me exactly how strong you are.”

He shifted his face so his hand was covering his mouth. Was he hiding a smile? I couldn’t tell. “Being strong is the only thing I can control.”

My eyes lingered on Mitchell as he moved his hand to pick up his menu. Before today, I would’ve never guessed he was suffering with something. But under the dim lighting of the fixture, he looked older, like he was battle worn. The dark shadows under his eyes gave him a haunted appearance—whether that was from lack of sleep or from his grief, I didn’t know—and I noticed the slight tremble in his fingers. He looked vulnerable in this moment, and for every fight we had in the future, I would remember him looking this unguarded.

“Hey, folks!” a chipper voice interrupted my monologue. “I’m Mary. Here’s your drinks. Did you need a few to look over your menus?”

“Sorry, I’ve never been here. I’m not sure what you have.”

“No problem! I’ll be back in a few!” She headed to another table as I scanned the menu. Sweets were the main staple in my diet; if I could, I would get dessert pancakes or waffles anywhere I went. My eyes lit up as I saw they had chocolate chip pancakes, my absolute favorite meal.

I felt Mitchell’s eyes on me as my gaze flicked over the menu. “Get whatever you want.”

“Chocolate chip pancakes.” His chuckle at my immediate response made me look at him over the top of my menu. “What?”

“Is that why your eyes lit up? Because you saw pancakes on the menu?”

“It’s my favorite food,” I said sheepishly. “You were watching me?”

“How could I not?” He rested his chin on his palm, looking at me with a warm expression. “You’re a good view, and despite my earlier behavior, you look beautiful with your make-up on.”

I released a nervous breath, the confidence from earlier restoring itself with his compliment. “I figured I’d want to look presentable for my first date, not like I just crawled out of bed.”

“First date?”

An embarrassing shade of red painted my face as the sound of surprise in his tone. “Did I say first date? I meant, first date with—”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Tell me, is this your first date ever with a man?”

God, I wanted to disappear. I wonder if this old vintage diner had some type of portal that could swallow me whole. “Yes.”

“Good.” It should be illegal how his accent made a single syllable word sound so seductive.

Mary chose to come back at that time to check on us, and after giving her our orders, she skirted off toward the kitchen. We fell into silence, and I wracked my brain to fill it, but my introverted self-doubted that Mitchell wanted to discuss the weather. My brain felt fogged from the nerves, trying to focus but unable to.

“I’ve never been to this part of town until a few days ago.” Mitchell had no problem starting a conversation back up, staring out at the road and watching the cars and people pass by before turning his attention back to me.

“Are you from here?” Diamond Ridge, Utah, wasn’t a large place, and our population was only around six hundred. I had a feeling Mitchell wasn’t from around here based on his accent alone, and my suspicions were confirmed when he shook his head.

“I’m from Alabama. Moved up here with my family when I was seventeen.”

That was a long way away from our small town. “What brought you to Diamond Ridge?”

His eyes misted over in a protective veil. “Dad relocated from work. Then I got a job.”

I knew better than to push for more, especially with how short he was with me. Still, I wanted to get to know him better, so I tried for an easy follow-up question. “What do you do for work?”

“I guess you can say I do recruiting.” He didn’t sound too thrilled describing what he did. “Basically, I just look for people I think my boss would like to interview.”

That was an interesting job, and I’ve never met anyone who’s done that. “Do you like it here?”

His eyes crinkled slightly when his lips curved up, staring at me. “Starting to.”

My teeth fretted with my bottom lip, trying to contain the butterflies in my stomach. This date was going better than I thought it would. This side of Mitchell was, dare I say, nice. Luckily, Mary chose that moment to deposit our food—chocolate chip pancakes for me, a burger and fries for Mitchell. We ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from our table was the snick of silverware cutting into my pancakes.

“How old are you?” he asked as he took a sip from his drink.

I took a sip of my drink before I answered, “Twenty-two. How old are you?”

“Too old for you.”

“Maybe I like older men.” I flirted back with him, making him huff out an amused breath.

He jabbed a fry into a puddle of ketchup. “You shouldn’t like anyone other than me.”

“Just like I shouldn’t be nice to anyone but you?” I couldn’t stop my snort when he nodded. “Do you not realize how ridiculous you sound?”

He didn’t appear bothered. “Do I look like a man who cares?”

“But seriously, how old are you?”

He smirked. “Guess.”

I chewed a mouthful of pancake as I considered him for a moment. “Twenty-six.”

He snorted. “Try thirty-two.” He makes thirty-two look so good. “Gotta different opinion about older men now?”

“No, just surprised you look so…” My brain searched for a compliment, but I was falling short. “Young.” Smooth, Nyla, real smooth.

He laughed, an actual belly laugh. “Thirty-two is young, though some days I feel older.”

“What makes you say that?”

It was his turn to sip from his drink, though I felt like he was trying to just delay answering me. “Life… you just never know what sucker-punch it’s going to hit you with next.” I could tell that life had beaten him down more than his fair share.

“I’m dreading nursing school because of how I know it’s going to beat me down.” The stories from online forums almost made me not apply, but then I’d seen my grandma’s face and how, without the help from the nurse, her passing would’ve been much more painful. I decided the struggle my life would be for two years would be nothing compared to all the good I would be doing for the world with it.

He considered me for a second as he pushed his now-empty plate to the side. “What made you wanna be a nurse?”

“My grandma…” My mind wondered off to the height of her disease. “She had Alzheimer’s. The nurse who came in to care for her was amazing, and she taught me things and told me I would make a great nurse. My grandma made a legacy of helping others, and I want to continue it.”

Warmth spread on the top of my hand, drawing my attention to it. Mitchell’s hand was covering mine, and I dragged my eyes to his sympathetic gaze. “You’re a good girl, Nyla.”

Warmth spread through me at his praise. “My dad raised me well.”

“Just wish he taught you not to approach strangers.” His tone was slightly condescending. “Ones in a graveyard, specifically. Who does that?”

I wasn’t going to argue with him. What I did wasn’t something everyone would do, and I was lucky to not be in a grave myself. But more than what I did, I wondered why he was here in the first place. “I think the better question is, who just sits alone in a graveyard during a monsoon?” I dropped my eyes as I stabbed the last piece of pancake with my fork.

“Didn’t feel like leaving.” He brushed it off indifferently.

“You don’t have a home?”

“I have a place to go to, but it’s not a home.”

The weight of his words wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t know what to say. Soon after, Mary came back to check on us and collected our plates, and Mitchell asked for the bill. After leaving a hefty tip for her once she put the check on the table, he stood, then shifted to my side of the table and offered me his hand. He helped me stand, a fluttering feeling inside me when he didn’t let go of my hand as we made our way out of the restaurant.

Just like he did before, he made sure I was on the side opposite of the road, but instead of my hand on his forearm, our hands remained connected. What started out as, what I thought would be a grueling date with him, opened my eyes to who Mitchell really was.

The more we talked, the more ingrained I became in the monster’s trap.

“My brothers would like this place.” He spoke absentmindedly, like it was an afterthought.

“How many siblings do you have?”

His eyes hardened slightly. “I share no blood with my brothers. I only had one sibling related by blood.”

Had. He said had.

My hand squeezed his in an act of comfort. He made an attempt to squeeze back, eyes still steeled. “I was an only child,” I said, trying to diffuse that look in his eyes. “Dad told me Mom left me on his doorstep when I was a few months old, and then he was too busy starting up his business to have another kid. He didn’t even know about me until she dropped me off.”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, the look dissipating slightly as his attention was diverted to me instead of his thoughts. “What kinda business does your dad do?”

Is it bad that I didn’t actually know? He told me I didn’t have to worry about it, that I wouldn’t ever have to worry about carrying on the legacy he was building for us. I would always be taken care of and free to do whatever I wanted. I was fine with that answer, but I’ve always been curious about what he did. “I’m not sure, really. I have a feeling it deals with some sort of construction or real estate, though. He oversees a lot of properties and travels a lot.”

“He’s never told you what he does?”

“He was gone a lot when I was growing up.” I shook my head. “We lived with my grandma, scrapping pennies together until I was six. That’s when he caught a break, and he moved us into our own place.”

He hummed like he was trying to solve a puzzle—the puzzle being why my dad never told me about his business. I never thought it was a big deal, but maybe it was a bigger deal than I thought? He didn’t comment about it further, though.

“I was skeptical about this date. I thought after the start we had, it’d be a disaster.” I looked at him, a smile brightening my face. “I think that second date is in the cards for us.”

He stopped suddenly, turning to face me, our hands still connected. “I told you before, I don’t ask, I take. We were going on that second date whether you agreed or not.”

His possessive tone before today would’ve turned me off, but getting an insight into him and how his brain operates, I just let it sink into my skin, starting to love the confidence it was making me feel that a man like Mitchell wanted someone like me. “For someone who warned me away from him, you can’t seem to stay away from me.”

“I can’t,” he confirmed seriously, a foil to my jest. “Dunno what it is about you, but I can’t stand not bein’ where you are.”

“So I shouldn’t try to get away from you?” My words were backed up by me boldly sliding my free hand up his chest, feeling the hidden muscle under my fingertips.

“I haven’t even begun to show you what you should be running from.” My tongue ran over my top lip, an action his eyes followed from beginning to end. A slight growl passed his lips, his eyes fighting his next action before giving in.

He lowered his head to mine, the emotions behind his actions different to when he did it a few days prior at Poppy Oak’s. His hands slid down my body, settling on my hips, his breath staining my lips as mine parted in anticipation—

“Nyla?”

I froze at hearing my name. I knew that voice. I angled my head toward the furious sounding growl from beside us. Oh my God, he caught me almost kissing someone.

I couldn’t play this off with a ‘it’s not what it looks like,’ because it’s exactly what it looks like. So instead, I removed my hand from Mitchell’s chest, awkwardly waving. “Hey, Dad.”

“This is your old man?” Mitchell asked, pulling his head back but not relinquishing his tight grip on my hips.

“Yeah, I am,” Dad confirmed, his pissed-off expression pinning Mitchell. “What the fuck are you doing to my daughter?”

CHAPTER 4

Nyla

T he air around us was thick with tension. Out of every person I expected to see today, my dad wasn’t one of them. He told me he and Uncle Rand were leaving on a business trip a state over, so what was he doing here?

Dad’s eyes were still focused on where Mitchell’s hand was touching me. “Would you let her go?”

Mitchell pulled me closer in defiance. “No.”

I swore I saw a vein throb in my dad’s head. My face was red; I didn’t think it would be this embarrassing being caught red-handed with a man by my dad, but here we are. “What are you doing here, Dad? I thought you and Uncle Rand were leaving town?”

“I wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything before I left.” His jaw clenched, and he ground out through clenched teeth, “Didn’t realize you already had plans.”

“She did.” Mitchell matched Dad’s unimpressed tone. My heart was racing; these men weren’t going to reach a stalemate anytime soon. Dad was extremely protective over me, and I didn’t see this ending well for any of us.

“Appreciate you looking out for my little girl.” He emphasized in a hostile tone—a tone I was familiar with when it involved men trying to flirt with me in front of Dad in the past. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a date, Nyla?”

“Because of how you’re acting right now,” I admitted, knowing his reaction would be over-the-top and unnecessary. If Dad had a gun with him, it would be up to Mitchell’s face, and I was scared Mitchell would dare him to pull the trigger. And I didn’t think Dad would be scared to do so. “I didn’t want you to hurt Mitchell.”

“It’s about to happen if he doesn’t take his hands off you like I asked.”

“I’m not scared of you.” My dread was growing by the second. Dad had a temper, and by the way his skin was transitioning to a deep shade of red, it was only a matter of time before it was unleashed.

“You should,” he challenged, unwavering from the fight Mitchell was putting up. “I know who you and your brothers are.”

My face turned to Mitchell’s just in time to see his eyes narrow, jaws tightening to the point I thought the cord in his neck was going to snap. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s going to make your life a living hell if you don’t let my daughter go.”

A mocking laugh escaped Mitchell’s lips as he pulled me closer in defiance, his grin sinister and eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “You assume it’s not already.”

Unease prickled my skin at the sudden shift in the conversation. How did Dad know Mitchell and his brothers? The way he said it made it sound like Mitchell and his brothers were nothing but trouble.

And Mitchell’s avoidance of the question silently told me it was true.

My mind was racing, becoming too overstimulated with their argument and Mitchell’s defying touch. I started to feel dizzy, like I was about to pass out. I put my hands on Mitchell’s that were resting on my hips, his hazel eyes meeting mine as I pleaded, “Can you please let me go?”

Mitchell eyed me, reluctantly letting me go, but refusing to step out of my personal space. Dad came closer to us, lips turned up in a way saying he knew he won, but Mitchell’s posture was still ready for a brawl. Their eyes locked, a line of fire passing between them as I watched Dad stick his hand out to Mitchell, disapproval still clear in his eyes. “Vincent Brooks.”

Mitchell stared at his outstretched hand, and I willed him to meet him halfway. I was beginning to think that not telling my dad about Mitchell was a good idea with the way he was acting. “If you already know who I am, then I shouldn’t have to introduce myself to you.”

He dropped his hand, a cocky smirk still on his lips. “How do you know I’m not lying?”

“I’m not stupid enough to test you in case you ain’t.”

Dad hummed, his face still laced with a cockiness I wasn’t used to seeing on him. “Didn’t realize your kind was smart.”

Mitchell’s lips grew into a snarl, clearly on the defensive again. He cared a lot about his brothers, I could tell with how he wasn’t relenting on Dad’s aggravated remarks. “Didn’t realize you had a death wish.”

Despite the humidity, it felt like the temperature had just fell ten degrees.

I didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, wasn’t good. Who were Mitchell and his brothers? His words weren’t exactly comforting, not to mention the fact that Dad was a good judge of character—besides with men who mirrored slight interest in me. His opinion of Mitchell could very well be bias. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to take my mind away from this situation. Too much was happening to process anything efficiently. Dad’s phone began to ring, and he answered, not taking his eyes off us.

“Vincent.” He listened intently to the other line, his face growing more frustrated the longer the other person was talking. “Take them to the LB location. I’ll stop by before I leave town to deal with them.”

He ended the call, bringing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “Something came up. I have to check in on something before I leave down. But Nyla? When I get back, we’re going to have a talk.”

Worry whisked in my gut. I hated mine and Dad’s talks. Whenever I did something he didn’t approve of, he insisted we talk it out immediately. I loved him, but his ‘my way or the highway’ discussions always left me feeling a little more deflated—but also a little more wary and obedient toward him. Which is all he could ask for in the end, him getting me to do what he wanted. It was a never-ending cycle, even into adulthood.

“You, Nyla, and me,” Mitchell corrected, making this situation more uncomfortable. I swore my dad’s head was about to pop at Mitchell’s smart remark. “You’re acting like you own her and her decisions. She’s done nothing wrong, but you’re treating her like she did.”

“Out of all of her suitors,” he sneered, eyeing Mitchell with contempt. Saying I had suitors was a bit extreme; every man who’s shown interest quickly changed their mind once my dad found out about them. “She picked you.”

“She did.” That was the first thing Mitchell agreed with, even though I didn’t think it was true. Plus, it was being conveniently left out that Mitchell didn’t give me a choice. “But if you think I’m going to stay away from her just because you think I’m not good enough for her, then you got another thing comin’, asshole.”

I gasped, snapping the taut chain of tension between the three of us. Dad rushed to Mitchell with ill intent, and Mitchell wasn’t backing down from a brawl. I meant what I said earlier that I didn’t want him to get hurt, so I stepped in between them, my back pressed against Mitchell’s body as my dad halted centimeters from me.

“Listen here.” Dad was seething, ready for a good fight. My dad was skilled, but Mitchell had size on him. If it came to blows, Mitchell would win, hands down. Instead of being worried about Dad hurting Mitchell, I should be worried about Mitchell hurting him. Dad clearly wasn’t thinking straight with his erratic behavior. “You touch her inappropriately in anyway, and I’ll make sure they never find your body.”

“Don’t worry,” Mitchell calmly responded, his hands back on my waist, emphasizing his words by pulling my hips back to his, my breath hitching as my ass came in contact with his front. “I’ll make sure she enjoys every time I touch her.”

Oh. My. God.

Dad’s face was turning hot as his phone blared again. The cords in his neck strained at the pressure of his gnashing teeth. Without taking his eyes off Mitchell, he put the phone up to his ear and snapped, “What!”

I didn’t understand the mumbled words through the phone and honestly, I didn’t think my dad was listening—he seemed more focused on his hatred for Mitchell. All my senses were zoned in on how he was giving no leeway of pressure to the way our bodies were rubbing together.

I was naïve, but not naïve enough to not know what the hardness pressing up against me was. My face burned, but I tried to keep a straight face and not alert my dad to what Mitchell was doing to me.

Because if he knew, there was a good chance Mitchell would be dead.

“I’m on my way,” Dad growled over the phone, his eyes frantic as they locked me in a dead stare. “You fuck him, you’re dead to me.”

Mitchell was in front of me in a second flat, and my dad was sprawled on the ground, hand touching his bleeding lip. I barely had time to process my dad’s cruel words, let alone the fact that Mitchell just hit him. “You say what you want to me, but you never talk to her like that, motherfucker. Because if you do, I’ll make sure they never find your body.”

Mitchell was breathing heavily, trying to calm down. I glanced at his hand, and saw his knuckles swelling, red with irritation from the punch he delivered.

“Boss! We need you here now!” The angry voice was clear through the phone. It must’ve accidentally been put on speaker when the altercation took place. There was a commotion I couldn’t quite make out, either.

“God dammit! Fuckin’ useless. I’m on my way,” he cursed, yelling into his phone before smashing his finger on the end button. He spat actual blood while giving a scathing look at Mitchell. “This isn’t over.”

“Treat her like that again, and it will be for you.”

I looked at the ground, my eyes stinging with tears threatening to fall. My dad has never, ever talked to me like that before. We’ve had our arguments like all families do, but for him to say I would be dead to him if I slept with Mitchell… something that wasn’t feasible? I wasn’t sure what would make him react like that. He said he knew who Mitchell and his brothers were, but even if they were bad people, he shouldn’t have projected his hatred onto me—his daughter—for the action of others.

“We’re going to have a long talk when I get back into town, Nyla.” He stood, making no effort to comfort me after his outburst. He kept his gaze locked on Mitchell. “Without you.”

“If you think I’m leaving her alone with you after how you just treated her in front of me, you’re outta your fuckin’ mind,” Mitchell snarled. “Pissed or not, you don’t talk to your kid like that.”

I looked at my dad, the heaviness of my necklace singing my skin with how I burned with the hurt I felt from his words, making me view him in a new light. He was stoic, not appearing remorseful in the slightest at his heated words toward me. No, it looked more like disdain in his eyes than regret—something that made my heart ache. He’s just angry, Nyla. People say heated things in the moment that they don’t mean.

I was thankful he was going away on business for a few weeks—it would give us time to cool down and gather our thoughts. I was already dreading our next conversation as it would be different than all previous ‘my way or the highway’ chats. I wanted to explore more with Mitchell, even though I knew Dad obviously didn’t approve. I already knew how the conversation would go, and more importantly, knowing it would end with Dad making me choose between him and Mitchell.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks, Nyla.” Dad turned toward his car, glancing at me over his shoulder as he pulled the driver’s door open. “Don’t forget my words, because I meant them.”

I don’t think I’ll ever forget them, I thought as he got in his car, pulling away as if nothing happened, but leaving behind the rose-colored glasses I’ve always looked at him with.

I stepped away from Mitchell, my dad’s words like a record in my mind, making me feel dirty. All my life I’ve done everything my dad has asked of me. I took the classes he wanted me to do, participated in the clubs he asked me to do. I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl…

Hearing him say that to me ripped right through me.

“Don’t step away from me,” Mitchell’s command broke through my thoughts as he put his hands on me again. It was like he couldn’t stop touching me.

“He’s never talked to me like that before,” I blurted, willing his touch to take some of my pain away. “He’s just angry—”

“Don’t excuse his behavior. Angry or not, no one is gonna talk to you that way, especially not in my presence.” He held me tighter. “He’s lucky I didn’t do more, but I promise you, if he does, I’m not gonna hold back.”

“He’s still my dad—”

“Don’t give a fuck; his words hurt you.” He twisted me to face him. “Whoever hurts you is gonna pay for it with either my fists or a bullet.”

I was beginning to think he wasn’t lying. “You’re not gonna kill anyone.”

“Says who?”

“You’re not God, Mitchell. You can’t dictate when someone lives or dies.”

“Watch me.” He gave no indication he was joking.

“I don’t like violence.” I was starting to realize that Mitchell was willing to kill for me, even after our brief interactions. “The world is filled with too much hate; we need more people who are kind.”

“You’re definitely the better half of us.” His words were affectionate as his fingers brushed across my cheek. “There needs to be a balance with kindness, and I’ll be that balance for you.”

“Why does there need to be balance? There’s strength in kindness.”

“That’s true, but it won’t stop people from trying to take advantage of that kindness.” His face grew close like it did before Dad interrupted us, his breath ghosting my lips yet again. “And that’s where my bullets come in.”

“You’re putting me on a pedestal I don’t belong on,” I argued. “Stop talking about killing people. I don’t like it.”

“Some people deserve to die.”

“Not for me. I’m not worth it.”

“You’re worth it.” His voice was soft, almost like a promising lullaby, drawing my senses from the fight between Mitchell and my dad and into the trance of Mitchell’s comfort. “You’ll always be worth it, Nyla.”

My mind thought back to what Dad said about Mitchell and his brothers—about knowing who they were. “What was my dad talking about that he knew you and your brothers?”

He looked slightly perplexed himself. “No idea, but I’m gonna find out.”

His icy tone and resolve chilled my blood. “You’re not gonna hurt him, are you?”

“I think breaking his nose constitutes as hurting him,” he said flatly, proving he wasn’t scared of doing anything like that again. “Maybe he was talkin’ about my job, but I can’t disclose any information because of client confidentiality.”

That would explain why Mitchell reacted the way he had. I was at my limit for today, my emotional battery completely drained. When I got like this, I just needed to be alone, and despite the good day I had with Mitchell, I needed to be by myself. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say you’ll see me again,” he whispered, his large hand pressing against my flushed cheek as his breath fanned my face. Not knowing how to respond, I just smiled softly at him. What he was making my heart and body feel wasn’t like anything anyone else had ever made me feel. He made me feel special, wanted.

And I liked the way he was making me feel.

I watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it and pulling up his contacts. I smiled as I saw him put Pretty Girl under the contact name before he asked, “What’s your number?”

I rattled off my number and he put it in his phone, pocketing it once he was done. “I’ll leave once I see you go inside.”

His expression was odd, and I honestly couldn’t describe the multitude of emotions flashing across it. With one last small wave, I stepped inside the doors where Oakley and Joslyn were pretending to be busy. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“No,” Oakley squeaked while Joslyn said a vibrant, “Yes!”

They both looked at each other bashfully. “Why did he punch your dad?”

The harshness of my dad’s words came crashing back, making me look down at my feet. “He said something pretty hurtful to me…”

“Your dad?” Oakley gasped, confused. She’s been around my dad more than Joslyn, and she knew my dad had never been anything but kind and loving toward me. “That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“I know. Mitchell was being an ass to him, but he reacted badly to one thing he said.”

“What did he say?”

My face burned. “He told Dad he’d make sure I enjoyed every time he touched me.”

Gasps fill the room. “He said that? To your dad?”

“I know; I couldn’t believe it, either. But Dad…” I took in a shaky breath, still trying to process his jarring words. I’ve never seen him so angry. I knew when I eventually started seeing someone, Dad was going to act like an overprotective father, but I never imagined he would react like that. “I don’t think I can repeat what he said to me.”

“Oh, Ny,” Oakley cooed. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

I gave a watery smile and shrugged. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Not saying it does,” she corrected as she moved to hug me. “He’s been a great dad to you up until this point, and hopefully, what he said can be fixed.”

I was hoping so, too. I couldn’t imagine life without my dad by my side. Besides Grandma, he was my best friend growing up. Smothering and overprotective, sure, but he always made sure I was taken care of.

“Someone’s still watching you.” Joslyn cackled, pointing at the window behind me. I turned around and saw Mitchell was there with a look on his face I couldn’t identify through the glass. I waved shyly, and a breathtaking smile formed on his lips before he gave me a two-finger salute and walked off to where I couldn’t see him anymore.

I bit my lip, trying hard to suppress the butterflies erupting in my stomach before turning back to my friends, who had grins on their faces. “What?”

“Someone’s gotta crush!” Joslyn jested.

“Yeah.” My smile grew wider as I brought my fingers to my lips, and joy spread into my fingertips and flowed through the rest of my body. “I guess I do.”

CHAPTER 5

Nyla

I  inhaled the scent of orchids, stepping on the muddy ground that led to my grandma’s grave. The weather was calmer than it was the last time I was here a few weeks ago. Unlike the last time I was here, I was in high spirits.

It’s been three days since my date with Mitchell, and every time I thought about it, my lips turned up into an involuntary smile. The good morning and goodnight texts from him were nice to wake up to, and I always looked forward to his goodnight one, despite us texting all day. Even to the point Claudia was trying to figure out why I went from barely being on my phone to smiling like an idiot at it almost overnight.

I’d sworn Joslyn and Oakley to secrecy, at least until I knew there was at least something resembling a future with Mitchell. Right now, even with high spirits and a fluttering heart caused by his charm and Southern accent, I was trying to not get my hopes up.

Trying, but failing miserably.

“You’re never going to guess what happened, Grandma.” I grinned, spreading out my blanket on the ground in front of her tombstone before plopping down, excitement getting the best of me. “I met someone.”

No response, of course. “I know what you’re thinking. Dad—” My heart twinged, thinking about my last interaction with him. We’ve been radio silent, giving each other a few days to reflect and calm down. The fight only showed what damage could be done with high emotions and heated words. A little deflated, I continued, “Dad doesn’t approve, of course, but he never has when someone showed even the slightest interest in me.” I paused, thinking about the first time a boy called the house for me, and how Dad threatened the boy to never call again—and apparently, to tell everyone at school that I was not interested. I was so embarrassed when I found out about it, and when I talked to Dad, he simply said that high school boys were nothing but trouble. I knew he had my best interests at heart, but still… I wished I had that opportunity to make those choices myself. “Mitchell doesn’t care about his approval, though. He proved to me that he was willing to stick by me, despite Dad’s overprotectiveness.”

I smiled, a fond memory coming to mind. “I remember that time you took me to volunteer at the soup kitchen when I was ten. The single mom with her twelve-year-old son. You invited them over to dinner, and he was so shy around me.” I laughed, remembering how the boy’s face was as red as the spaghetti sauce we had for dinner that night anytime he glanced in my direction. Everyone besides Dad thought it was funny, but it was a fond memory I’d never forget. “They were so kind. I’m glad you were able to get them a place on their own. I hope they’re doing well.”

Not only was my grandma a saint with her volunteering at the homeless and domestic shelters, but she also invited the ones she really connected with over for dinner. Even going as far as finding a job and housing for them, not to mention how she would provide clothes, toys, books, and other essentials for the people she helped. Some of them cried, beyond thankful for help during the rough time in their lives. That’s what Grandma was all about, though—being kind to others and life would reward you.

I smiled, thinking about what the world was beginning to reward me with. “His name’s Mitchell. We went on our first date, and while it started out rocky, by the end, I saw him in a whole new light.” I deliberately left out the part about Mitchell and Dad’s fight. I’m sure she’d seen it from the heavens, so she didn’t need it rehashed. “Between you and me, I think he let his nerves get the best of him at first, which is pretty cute considering he tries to keep his rugged, bad boy persona front and center.”

“Would rather you think I’m sexy, pretty girl. Cute hurts my ego.”

A scream escaped me as I twisted around, hand on my heart in a pathetic attempt to stop the erratic beating. My eyes widened as I saw a familiar figure. “Mitchell?” I flushed, not knowing how much he heard. “What are you doing here?”

“Admiring the view,” he teased. The smirk that grew on his lips told me he wasn’t sorry that he did. “Should be more aware of your surroundings. Never know who’s gonna show up ‘round here.”

I felt myself smile back at his remark. “I’m starting to think you’re following me.”

“Surprised you don’t have a line after you daily,” he mused instead of denying. “Even if you did, I’d fight my way to the front. No man’s gonna keep me from ya, Nyla.”

My face burned. He’s been saying swoony things like that since our date. The cynic in me—not believing a man like him could want a boring woman like me—faded with each word from his tempting lips and the tender actions from his calloused hands.

Joslyn was right, I did have a crush.

Instead of replying, I gave him an easy smile and stood from the blanket I laid on the ground. His face was relaxed as he stepped toward me, wrapping a large hard around my hip and planting a welcoming kiss on my cheek that tempted me to turn my head so it met my lips instead.

I’d been wondering how his lips would feel against mine ever since our date… ever since our almost-kiss Dad had interrupted—which was constantly playing as a what-if scenario in my head. I would’ve let him steal my first kiss, though he wouldn’t be stealing it since I would gladly gift it to him.

He pulled back, his eyes staying on my lips a second longer before turning his attention to Grandma’s gravestone in front of us.

“I’m Mitchell Walker, ma’am,” he said from my side, his hand curled around my hip to make me cuddle to him, taking some of the strength he was willingly providing that I lacked every time I visited Grandma’s grave. “Thanks for takin’ such good care of my girl, but I’ll take over from here. You don’t need to worry.” His head turned to mine, a mirage of browns and greens colliding together in his deep eyes, softening the look of the otherwise hardened man. “I’ll always make sure she’s taken care of.”

‘My girl’ rang over in my head as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. The newfound emotions Mitchell has made me feel since the day I met him amplified at the simple gesture of him telling my grandma I would always be safe with him, protected by him—

Cared by him.

“And just so y’know, I was nervous on our first date. Almost fucked everythin’ up; got lucky, though. You raised a forgivin’ woman, and I’ll never take that for granted.”

I sighed at the memory, glad that I saw past my temper tantrum that day. Contently, I laid my hand on Mitchell’s chest, warmth spreading through me from his words. He didn’t have to do this, but him introducing himself and talking to Grandma’s grave like she was here meant more to me than he’d ever know.

He tugged me tighter to him. “Got anythin’ else to say to her before I whisk you away?”

“I’ll be back in a few weeks, Grandma. Oakley’s making some rhubarb pie for our annual Leela’s Legacy Drive. I have to make arrangements, so I’ll be busy.” It was a thing Oakley and I had run every year to raise funds for the domestic and homeless shelters—two causes Grandma held near and dear to her heart. “Oakley and I are planning on sharing a piece of pie with you afterward.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any sweeter.” His voice was low, and I debated on if he even wanted me to hear what he said as he led me away from Grandma’s grave. “What’s Leela’s Legacy Drive?”

“Vendors come set up shop in the center of town, and everything they sell goes toward the local domestic and homeless shelters. It’s a thing we came up with to not only honor her memory, but to give back to the community.” I looked up at him. “It’s a fun day, you should come.”

He hummed, considering it. “I’ll see if I’m free that day. Maybe I can get some of my brothers to tag along, too.”

My eyes lit up. “Really? That’d be great, we could use the help. Do your brothers have anything they can auction?”

He nodded. “Yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself. Gotta ask them first.”

I took a deep breath, deciding to change the subject to relieve some of the giddiness I was feeling with Mitchell and his brothers potentially helping with my fundraiser. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Your eyesore of a car.” I grimaced. I knew my car wasn’t the best looking one around, but it was one I saved up for and bought on my own. It’d always have a special place in my heart, even if it died on me a lot. “Seriously, Nyla, think all of Utah could hear you pull up with how loud your muffler is.”

I pouted. “Leave my car alone. Nothing’s wrong with Tabby.”

He snorted, clearly amused by my name for my car. “You name your car?”

I raised an eyebrow at him and countered, “You don’t?”

“Considering I’m normal… no, I don’t.”

I pouted at his half-hearted jab. “I’m normal, too.”

“You’re strolling in the graveyard with me. Normal doesn’t begin to describe you.” Mirth shined in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, scanning the area. “Where’s your car?”

“Don’t have one.”

“You walked here?”

“Don’t live that far,” he explained casually, silently indicating the end of our conversation as he led us to a familiar area.

The oak tree where we met a week and a half ago.

Mitchell pulled something out of his pocket, my heart momentarily stopping as he pulled out a knife. “You carry a knife?”

“You don’t?” He looked at me like I was the crazy one. “You should, pretty girl. Never know when a man might take advantage. I won’t always be around to take care of them for you.”

“This is the only place I ever go alone.”

“Good choice,” he deadpanned, his flat tone telling me he didn’t approve. “A secluded place where only the dead can hear you scream…”

“I met you here, didn’t I?” I challenged. “And despite your multiple warnings, here we are, over a week later. If you’re going to warn people away from you, then maybe you should follow through with your threats.”

“I usually do.” His voice softened along with his posture. “Just can’t picture hurting you.”

Well, that took the air out of my lungs. What could you say after something like that? So instead, I bit my lip, feeling bashful as his eyes trailed the movement. A slightly heated look stayed in his mossy eyes, and I silently hoped he would act on his desire since I was too shy to make the first move.

Disappointment filled me as he tore his eyes away, clearing his throat before turning toward the tree. His arm lifted before I heard his knife dig into the bark. He was making sure to hide what he was doing by blocking the trunk of the tree with his large body. I watched as the muscles of his biceps moved as he carved into the bark of the tree with his pocketknife. I was enjoying the way his tribal tattoo flexed, the unique amber-sapphire swirl of his bracelet shifting with each movement of his wrist.

Didn’t realize I’d be getting a show today.

He turned to me moments later, his eyes shining with fondness. “You’re gonna have to buy me dinner before you look at me with your fuck-me eyes, Nyla.”

My face flamed at being caught staring at him. “S-sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he mused. “When we fuck, it’ll be on my bed. The only way you’ll get dirty is from my touch, not from the mud on the ground. So quit lookin’ at me like that before I go back on my promise.” My breath hitched in my throat, but he wasn’t done with his dirty words. “Though I don’t think these spirits would mind a bit of a show… No one’s allowed to see your body but me.”

I sputtered, not knowing how to respond but trying to, anyway. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about that with Mitchell—it was only natural to wonder what it would be like to be with anyone, especially a man like Mitchell. His confidence told me he knew what to do, inside and outside the bedroom.

Still, his words lit a fire on my skin. The heat felt as though it would permanently stain my cheeks red.

Smirk still present on his face, he stepped away from the tree, revealing what he carved. When I saw the engraving, my mouth fell open, and I was surprised I stayed upright with the sudden weakness in my knees.

M+N

Our initials, forever carved in the oak tree.

“Oh, Mitchell.” My words were breathless. No matter how much air I took in, my head felt light. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t gotta say anythin’.” He stepped over to me after pocketing his knife, his fingertips trailing on my cheeks, and I was slightly afraid that his hand would burn with how hot my face was. “You’re not gonna be able to talk in a second, anyway.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “What do you—”

His head sank down, his lips connecting with mine. I gasped as I felt his surprisingly soft lips touch mine, moving, trying to coax me along, but my short- circuited brain wasn’t processing what he’s doing.

Mitchell Walker was kissing me.

He was finally kissing me.

“Your bad for a man’s ego, Nyla,” he said, his words slightly muffled against my lips. “Usually when someone kisses you, the polite thing to do is kiss them back.”

Embarrassed, I kissed him back. My inexperienced showed as I applied pressure, trying to match his movements as his lips moved against mine. I felt his mouth open, his tongue escaping to trace the seam of my lips, coaxing me to open and let him explore.

As soon as I opened my mouth, his tongue invaded—slow, deliberate, and sensual.

And I just stood there, not knowing what to do besides let him take the lead while I shyly tried to follow his movements. He retracted his tongue, instinct making me try the same thing on him. But unlike me, who let him do what he wanted, he still had to dominate in some way.

His lips closed on my tongue, giving a sharp suck that made me gasp, giving him more access as he trailed his tongue along my lips before pulling back, fire tinging in his mossy eyes.

“I’m gonna teach you how to use that mouth on me.” He pulled away, his eyes slightly glazed over. “Gonna enjoy every second of it.”

“So, I wasn’t bad?” My brain was swirling with disheartening thoughts about my performance, but if Mitchell looked as breathless as I felt, then I couldn’t have been that bad, right?

“Wasn’t so bad,” he mocked, his thumb coming up to brush my bottom lip. His tongue traced his top lip, making me want it back in my mouth to play with. “So good with your pretty mouth, it’s makin’ me crave what else I know can fit in here.”

As if I didn’t embarrass myself enough, I choked on my own saliva, sending me into a coughing fit. Mitchell’s face was smug as he lightly patted my back. “That disgusted by the idea?”

“No!” I said a bit too quickly. “I just… I’m not used to someone talking like that.”

“You’ll get used to it.” His hand traveled up my back, gripping the back of my neck with a slight squeeze. “Beginnin’ to think I can’t control myself around you, Nyla.”

I wasn’t sure what was hotter at this point, the sun or my face.

“I think you’ve taken all you can of me today.” Mitchell’s hand slid to my lower back, guiding me toward my car. “But trust me, Nyla, soon enough you’ll be taking all of me… and even when you think it’s too much, you’ll be beggin’ for more.”

Yeah, it was a good thing he was ushering me away; I’d hate to embarrass myself more than I feel like I already had. Unlike the last time we were in this predicament, I wasn’t as scared—Mitchell was a stranger but now, he was more.

What ‘more’ meant? Only time would tell.

We approached Tabby, my lovely cobalt mini cooper, and just like last week, Mitchell opened my car door for me. I shyly slid inside, biting my lip nervously because I didn’t know what else to do.

He leaned into my space. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” I answered breathlessly, loving how our faces were mere centimeters apart as we got lost in each other’s eyes—hazel clashing with silver.

He leaned in a fraction, but not meeting my lips the way I wanted him to. But he made me feel confident in my ability, bolder than when I stepped foot into the graveyard this afternoon. Enough so that I met him halfway, giving him a quick peck before pulling away. That was a proper goodbye, right?

“Fuck, no.” He frowned. “That’s not a goodbye kiss.” As soon as the words left his mouth, it was on mine, moving and coaxing, driving me wild and sending fire down my throat, pooling between my legs. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled back, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what he did. “Now that’s a goodbye kiss.”

“I should go,” I whispered, not wanting to go but not ready for whatever was happening between us.

“Remember me?” He had asked me the same thing at Poppy Oak’s. Little did he know, he was the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.

“I can’t remember you if you don’t let me leave.”

“I’m letting you leave… I’m just not letting you go.”

His words resonated within me, a deeper meaning I didn’t quite understand tagging along with it. “We’ll see each other again.”

“Of course, we will.” He sounded so sure of himself. “You can’t escape me now, Nyla.”

And I don’t want to, I thought as he gave me one last peck before pulling back, shutting the car door before he gave into what I knew he wanted to do to me. He stood there, watching me turn on the car, and I gave him a small wave before pulling away, not keeping my eyes on the road but on the rearview mirror until Mitchell disappeared.

It was a drive full of deep thoughts and imagination; I didn’t even bother to turn the radio on as I cruised down the road. My lips tingled at the remembrance of him, my grin refusing to leave my face.

My first kiss with Mitchell.

My first kiss ever with a man.

I’d seen the scene play out in the movies. They were described as butterflies in your stomach and forgetting the world around you, like nothing else mattered besides you and that special person you were giving yourself to. I thought the movies were over-exaggerating the feelings, but they weren’t because that’s exactly how I felt with Mitchell.

The kiss we shared was a metronome in my mind that I hoped never stopped ticking. My heart was soaring, feeling like I was invincible, on top of the world, and everything was for my taking. Would it have felt this good with someone else? I don’t know, but I’m thanking my lucky stars for privileging me with such a good first kiss—something I wouldn’t forget for a long time, if ever.

His sun-kissed skin, his soft lips, the way he tried his best to be tender, even though his roughness shone through in a way that was only Mitchell…

God, I felt like every girl in a cheesy rom-com.

I couldn’t remember the drive home, my thoughts too encompassed with Mitchell and what we shared underneath the oak tree. But mindlessly, I pulled into the driveway, putting Tabby into park and hearing the ping of my phone when I cut the engine off. Grabbing my phone, a smile spread on my face.

Mitchell: Get home safe?

Me: Yes.

Mitchell: Date this Friday night.

I laughed at his demand, already knowing I was going to give in, but wanting to tease him a little.

Me: Aren’t you supposed to *ask* a girl on a date?

Mitchell: Didn’t ask you on a first date, not gonna start now. Be ready by 8.

Me: Yes, sir.

Mitchell: Keep that smart mouth up, Nyla… I promise I’ll enjoy shutting it.

I bit my lip, trying to contain my smile, but I knew anyone who passed by our apartment would see a crazy woman smiling at her phone in her driveway. Feeling ballsy, I didn’t let him have the last word.

Me: Can’t wait <3

It took longer for him to reply as I eagerly waited for his response.

Mitchell: See you this weekend, pretty girl.

Even through text, his pet name for me made me feel special. I put my phone to my chest, giving a content sigh as dirty blond hair and hazel eyes clouded my vision.

I think a girl could get addicted to a man like Mitchell Walker.

CHAPTER 6

Mitchell

I  can’t be addicted to Nyla Brooks.

This wasn’t part of the plan; she wasn’t part of the plan. My frustration was growing as I stomped down the sidewalk, still reeling from the memory of her lips on mine. Never been a kissin’ man, but those fuckin’ lips were changing my mind, giving me a glimpse of Heaven I knew I would never reach.

As soon as she pulled away, I had to release the tension that was growing in me, debating with the demons in my head if I should act on what I really wanted to do to her or let her escape the inevitable for a few more days.

The demons clashed, not liking my resistance, but the next date…? I’d let them have their fill of her. And I couldn’t wait for the feast.

She’s nothing but a crutch… a distraction to what really feeds me. But I’ll have a hell of a time taking my fill until it’s time to move on.

My mood had been unpredictable even before the incident. One minute my mood could be high as a kite in the summer sky, then the next second, without warning, it would plummet into the darkest depths of the ocean, making me feel like walking through a fire sounded better than taking my next breath.

I didn’t know who I was going to be when I woke up each day, and I wish I could say that made life more exciting, but it didn’t. There was only one way to control who I was, but that wasn’t an option, despite the cravings for it that never stopped.

It was so easy to just take care of the problem. Sure, I could go back to the doctor, explain what was happening and fill the prescription I knew they had on file for me… But I just couldn’t find the desire to take them. I didn’t want to be who I was, but I didn’t want to be the person the pills turned me into, either. I knew my other option, but I couldn’t do that, either. I couldn’t just completely tap out of life for a few hours and find myself in a dirty alley again, disorientated, broke, and aching.

I wanted to be comfortably numb, forget everything life had thrown me, and just… exist for a bit in the darkness.

Now though, I found something new to take the edge off that temptation.

I couldn’t deny I was captivated by the unique color of her eyes, the way she looked in my clothes or the way her brown hair was straight with a natural curl on the end as it fell over her shoulders. I couldn’t deny how I felt with the way she showed concern for me when most people in my life didn’t, or even the way she was too trusting.

And the trust she instilled would only get her hurt, or worse.

Worse being under the radar of a man like me.

I thought back to the graveyard the day we met. Of her face when I looked up while she put the umbrella over my head to shield me from the rain I was relying on to drown the intrusive thoughts my body was aching to act on. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I find him.

I berated myself for almost blowing my date with Nyla a few days ago. I only apologized to her because I knew she would forgive me—she was too kind to do anything but that. Using her naivety against her pissed me off, and the way she was none the wiser pissed me off even more.

My moods being unpredictable also gave me the leverage to manipulate my senses—something I’ve mastered to get what I want and worked well with my unpredictable moods. I could shift my emotions on a dime and make it look convincing to the naked eye, and that was something Nyla fell for hook, line, and sinker. She wasn’t the only one to fall for my tricks, but the farther I dragged her along, the more shame I felt in my gut. I’m not sure why I felt like that, since it wasn’t something I was used to feeling. I was always so sure of my actions, but Nyla…

What I was going to do to her was something I could never undo.

It was a good thing I wanted her to hate me in the end.

“Hey, Mitchell!” an excited voice called that made my skin crawl and pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t realize I’d wandered to this part of town. Nyla was distracting me, even when I wasn’t with her—like she had since the day I first saw her over a week ago.

The woman who called my name wasn’t excited to see me, just excited at what she knew I could do to her. But I wouldn’t; I hadn’t been with anyone in years, and that wasn’t going to change. My mission meant more to me than some pussy that had been around the block more than once.

I didn’t say any of it, but instead, I turned, biting the inside of my cheek to try to control myself from lashing out. I had to remind myself that, in due time, I could unleash Hell on them… just not today.

Her greasy hair, gaunt eyes, and too thin frame swayed, trying to entice me when it just made me want to vomit. I would’ve felt sympathy for her if I didn’t know what she and the scumbags she associated with were knowingly doing to people who didn’t deserve it. Even though I’d rather chop my tongue off, I replied, “Hey.”

She twirled a piece of greasy hair around a manicured finger; apparently, she didn’t realize how unattractive the action was. “We’re throwing a party next weekend. You wanna come?”

Of course I didn’t want to go, but I knew I had to keep her on the hook. “Where at?”

“This place called Hellbound; Lincoln rented it out for the night.” She smiled, showing where one of her teeth had rotted out from continued drug use. “You gonna come?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Who’s all gonna be there?”

“Me,” she purred, assuming I would automatically show up if she was there, even though I was more tempted to take a bath with a toaster than be in the same room as her. When I looked indifferently at her, she pouted, arms crossing over her chest in disappointed when I didn’t take her bait. “The Cardinal Bloods. Someone from the Flock is supposed to show up, too, I guess.”

Now that was interesting. “Who’s coming from the Flock?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. Lincoln made a deal with them a while back, so I guess they’re showing up to check us out.”

Humming, I pretended to consider my options when my mind was already made up. “Check you out for what?”

She bit her lip, debating. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you…”

“If the Bloods want to get a deal done with my boss, then you’ll tell me.”

“We need your supply,” she whined. I knew the supply she was talking about was a promised shipment of cocaine. My brothers and I promised the Bloods a shipment of narcotics to get them in our trap—a black market deal they couldn’t refuse or ever pay back. They’d forever be in our debt, just like we wanted.

But they’d never get that shipment. The only thing they’d be taking would be our bullets between their fuckin’ eyes.

I steeled my eyes and took a step closer. “Answer my question.”

She gave up her inner debate real quick at the thought of getting her quick fix. “They’re coming to see if we’re fit to be a division of theirs. The Flock is branching out, city by city, and Lincoln wants the Bloods to be Diamond Ridge’s representation.”

Would you look at that? She could be useful besides spreading her legs for scumbags. I wouldn’t utter a word of what she told me because it could end in her head. Which, I wouldn’t care either way, but if she gave me the information so easily, that meant she’d probably be willing to give some more when the time came.

“I’ll be there.” Not wanting to be seen with her any longer than necessary, I continued the trek down the sidewalk, needing to wash the stench off me before I made my way back to my perch. “I won’t tell anyone what you told me, and you won’t tell anyone you saw me, understood?” She looked relieved as her body loosened its tension and she blew out a shaky breath. She knew the consequences of what she told me, and she knew no one would hesitate to see them through. “See you next week, Jordyn.”

I swore her sigh was slightly heated when I walked away. It was nauseating to think her twin was the total opposite of her. If I got a closer look, I might’ve noticed the differences, though I doubted I would. I didn’t pay attention to women’s looks—after all, they couldn’t offer me anything my hand couldn’t take care of.

Silver eyes flashed through my mind, brunette hair falling below shoulders, a smile that could clear an entire hurricane with how brightly it shone. Nyla was the only woman to ever make me do a double-take.

Nyla Brooks was someone I certainly couldn’t afford.

But something I couldn’t resist, either.

I bit the inside of my lip so hard it drew blood, trying to get the metallic taste to distract my thoughts of going too far with her. I reminded myself of who I was and what my mission was. I continued my trek, heart pounding at the thought that this could all be over in just a few weeks’ time.

The girl with the silver eyes, who’s been a welcoming visitor in my living nightmare. I remembered seeing her pull in, and how I watched her stand in front of a grave, mourning the loss of her loved one. Seeing her look so similar to me in my grief made the hole in my chest feel odd. Seeing her like that triggered memories I wanted to forget, until she was above me, shielding me from the rain with a plastic umbrella. That simple act was the kindest thing anyone had done for me in years.

A part of me wished she wouldn’t have, because now she was entangled in a life she didn’t know existed. Just another sin on my soul that died when my mom and sister did. When I thought of them, I hurt just like I deserved—gut-twisting, soul-shattering, bone-cracking aches that never gave any reprieve. I just wished it hurt me more… Nothing I could ever do would make up for my sins, but I was prepared for a very painful death repenting them.

Nyla may be unexpected, yet she had all these expectations of me. She thought I was good man ruled by his mental illness… and maybe I was. Maybe I was still sick, even though I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel anything but dead inside, so I guess that’s not far off from having a mental illness. The way Nyla looked at me brought a flame to my skin, a feeling I hadn’t ever experienced. The fire she was igniting would soon be extinguished when that growing affection she had for me in her eyes died—just like I did, little by little at the thought of what I was going to do.

She hasn’t even begun to regret meeting me yet.

But she would soon enough.

CHAPTER 7

Nyla

“A re you going out with Mitchell again?” Oakley asked, walking into our shared living room with her beloved e-reader in hand.

I nodded, grinning at the thought of seeing him. “Yeah, tonight, actually.”

She gave me a half smile, not looking happy for me like I had assumed, but instead more worried. “You know I worry about you, right?”

Ever since she witnessed the altercation between Mitchell and my dad, Oakley had changed her opinion about Mitchell. Like me, Oakley didn’t like violence—she couldn’t see blood without passing out. If she wasn’t so worried about me being in between Mitchell and my dad, she would’ve ducked and hid at her first chance.

“I know, Oak, and I love that you worry. But Mitchell…” What could I even say about him? The mirage of emotions he made me feel were confusing, for sure. But one thing was true; he couldn’t seem to take his own warnings to stay away from me. The effect I had on a man like him was something that made the butterflies in my gut multiply and swirl faster. “He’s… different.”

“You know I’ll support you, no matter what.” She smiled at me, despite her silent rejection. “I just want you to be happy, is all.”

“I’m the happiest I’ve been since Grandma died. My life revolved around her and her care, something I didn’t realize at the time, but I do now.” I returned her smile. “I wasn’t living, just surviving. I gave up my life to care for her, and I don’t regret it—I’ll never regret the final moments I’d spent with her. But it’s time to step forward, and I feel like I can do that with Mitchell.”

Oakley regarded me for a minute and blew out a breath. “You do look a lot happier. Just be careful, okay?”

I wanted to hug her, but Oakley wasn’t one for touching. I knew her past experience with him jaded her views on men in general. I could be cliché and tell her that all men weren’t the same, and that Mitchell was different, but I truly didn’t know if he was. He was so hot and cold—mostly hot in his looks and cold in his attitude, which was a good fictional combination, but in real life…? Not so much.

Time would only tell if there was a future for us, but I wanted to take it slow.

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” I grinned. “Your dad would bail mine out of jail if he did something to Mitchell, right?”

“I dunno about that.” She snorted, her lips turning up, signaling her mood lightened drastically.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and my smile grew, already knowing who it was from.

Mitchell: I’ll be there in an hour.

Me: Can’t wait to see you.

Mitchell: Wear something pretty for me.

I grinned at that message, feeling a little adventurous.

Me: Maybe.

Mitchell: What are you gonna wear?

Me: I guess you’ll find out.

I was scared I’d failed at my attempt to flirt with him with each moment that passed without a reply. Anxiety rushed through me when I heard my cell phone vibrate with a new message.

Mitchell: If I have anything to say about it, you’ll be wearing nothing by the end of the night.

I felt so hot, rereading his dirty message over and over again. This was new territory, and besides the grinding we did the other day after our second date, I had no experience in this area—and the spicy scenes in the books Oakley loved to read didn’t count as experience. Though I wouldn’t mind Mitchell teaching me a thing or two. I would love to learn how to make him feel as good as he has made me feel, but I had no idea how to please him, and I didn’t know how to bring up the idea of him teaching me.

Me: I’ll make sure to wear nothing underneath, then.

I clicked my phone off, hands heating from the burning of my face as I slapped them over my eyes. Did I really just say that? Was he seriously considering having sex tonight? My message was surely going to insinuate I wanted to as well. But the question was, was I ready? Sex was so serious, so personal. I knew people had sex with random strangers every day, but I never pictured myself as one of those girls. I always pictured my first time as being tender, with someone I loved and who loved me.

I didn’t love Mitchell—I understood that—and going by looks alone, he didn’t know what the word gentle meant. My phone buzzed, and I hurriedly reached for it, bringing close to my face as I read a text that made heat flood in my core.

Mitchell: Keep talking like that and we won’t even make it to our date.

My heart pounded and my face burned hotter when my phone buzzed again.

Mitchell: Keep testing me, pretty girl. I worked hard planning a normal date for us, but I don’t mind eating something else…

Intrusively, I wanted to throw my phone across the room, but instead, my eyes were still locked on the message, but not reading it anymore. My lower half was burning with anticipation. I looked at my outfit, still in a tank top and sweatpants I put on after my shower. I knew what he meant by something else—the area in question throbbing at just the thought of his mouth being near it. My mind was scanning for a reply when another text popped up on the screen.

Mitchell: Fuck it. On my way, wear anything underneath that skirt you’re wearing and I’ll show you how I like to fuck.

I dropped my phone, jumping out of bed with my brain short-circuiting with the implications of his message. “Oakley!”

I heard her rushed footsteps before she appeared in my doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s on his way!” I don’t know why I was freaking out. A man I haven’t known for very long just insinuated that he was coming over, and we were going to have sex. No big deal, right? Right. “What do I wear?”

She calmly walked over to my closet and opened the doors. “Do you know where you’re going for your date?”

Does someone’s bed count as a date destination? “No.”

She hummed, pulling out a few different outfits. “Since you don’t know, I think cute but comfortable would be the best.” She laid out a cute tan sweater dress, then moved over to my drawers, pulling out a pair of pantyhose. “Can’t go wrong with a cute, casual style.”

The sweater dress was form-fitting, so it would amplify the slight curves I had, making my body hopefully look more appealing for Mitchell. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my body—I had a high metabolism, so I never had to worry about gaining weight when I ate, but it also meant my body had a more straight than lush shape. My chest wasn’t the most eye-catching, but my thighs and backside were slightly plump due to me doing daily squat challenges.

The dress and pantyhose combo would make my ass look great and, hopefully, irresistible to a certain man. My phone buzzed before someone knocked on our front door. “He’s here!”

I rushed to my phone, seeing Mitchell’s text saying he was at the door. I didn’t have make-up on yet, and my hair wasn’t done…

And I’m still wearing underwear.

I bit my lip. Would Mitchell deliver on his punishment? And did I want him to? Me being the vanilla girl with kinky thoughts, I was too scared to try something so drastic, especially during my first time. I looked over at Oakley. “Can you stall him, please? I’ll be out in a minute.”

She was nervous about being alone with a man like that. I felt bad asking her to be uncomfortable, but I also didn’t want Mitchell to barrel through the door if we didn’t answer. Another series of knocks sounded before I pleaded with her, “He’ll knock our door down if you don’t answer it soon.”

“Please hurry.” She walked out. I owed her one. She didn’t do well with men, especially large men like Mitchell. Closing the door behind her, I stripped naked, throwing only the pantyhose and sweater dress on, listening to his command.

The hold this man had on me already was shocking. I rushed to the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. My chestnut hair looked frazzled with static and my silver-toned eyes looked bland.

“Fuck him and you’re dead to me.”

My father’s words rushed through me, killing the lust that had a hold over my thoughts and actions. His words still stung, even more so since we haven’t talked since the fight. I kept telling myself he was a great dad to me—he gave me a home full of everything I needed. I listened to everything he said, and I never rebelled. I was the good girl he wanted me to be.

But my obedience led me to be a twenty-two-year-old virgin with no life experience. With nursing school starting up in a few months, I knew I needed some more. The health care field was as unrelenting as it was unforgiving. Whether you were new to the field or a veteran, it chewed you up and spit you out, day in and day out. And with being protected from others most of my life, the anxiety of being thrown to the wolves made me second-guess my decision to become a nurse daily.

And that’s why I couldn’t listen to Dad’s every command. I knew he meant well, and that he was just trying to protect me, but I was an adult. I was in charge of my actions and the consequences of those actions, good or bad.

I wanted Mitchell, and he wanted me.

And that’s what was going to happen.

I took a deep breath, making sure my lungs expanded fully before releasing it out my nose. I took one last look in the mirror, my eyes widening when I realized what I was wearing.

Did pantyhose count as something underneath?

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I froze at the Southern drawl that was becoming a constant sound in my life. I guess I’ll find out if Mitchell thinks so soon enough.

I turned and saw Mitchell with his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. The muscles in his forearms flexed, the angle making them look bigger than usual. What I wouldn’t do to have them wrapped around me—

What’s gotten into me lately?

Hopefully Mitchell.

“Uh…” Why did he have to look so good in a flannel and blue jeans? It was absolutely criminal for someone to look the way he did. “Hey?”

God, I’m so lame.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes slowly raking down my body. He paused on my pantyhose, his smirk starting a wildfire over my skin.

“Bad girl, Nyla…” He licked his top lip, his eyes trailing to my flaming face. “You’re just begging for a punishment, aren’t you?”

I guess that was my answer. Scenarios flooded my mind from all the things I knew he could to do me; my nerves and shame getting the better of me as my imagination made heat flood between my thighs. “I don’t think I’m ready for punishments.”

“You’d like my punishments.” His sensuous tone was doing me no favors with the dirty thoughts plaguing me. He tucked a strand of frizzy hair behind my ear, his hungry eyes taking in my form one last time. “Let’s go. I’ve got a special night planned for us, and your roommate is about to have a panic attack with me in your apartment.”

“You didn’t scare her, did you?”

“Most people fear big men like me. Your roommate’s just smart enough to heed my warnings.”

“And I’m not?”

“You’re here in front of me, not cowering, but instead, your eyes are begging to be fucked by me.” My breath caught in my throat, his face showing acknowledgment that he heard it. “You don’t make good decisions, because if you did, I wouldn’t be here.” He leaned in close, his breath against my ear. “Thanks for making bad decisions, Nyla.”

I had to get us out of here. The way he was looking at me, I knew we were on borrowed time before he pounced on me, making a claim my body was ready for. My nipples were stiff just thinking about the different things Mitchell could do to me, would do to me. I wasn’t looking forward to our date anymore, the lust driving me to the cliff… and I was more than ready to jump off the ledge.

“Let me grab my purse.” My voice was surprisingly even despite the growing sexual tension. Mitchell stepped out of the way, letting me through. As I walked past him, I felt his eyes on me the whole time. I looked back at him, taunting him with a smile. “Shall we go?”

He nodded and pushed off the doorframe, bringing his body right up against mine. “Lead the way, pretty girl.”

We walked out of my room, and Oakley was nowhere in sight. She was probably locked in her room, desperate to be away from Mitchell. “Oakley! We’re leaving!”

“Be safe,” she called, her voice slightly hidden behind her closed door. I should’ve known she would hide out until I left, and it made my heart hurt that she still felt the way she did four years ago.

Mitchell and I walked out the front door, and I gasped when I saw what was in our driveway. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“My ride of choice.” He came to stand beside me. “Ever been on one?”

I shook my head. I’d only seen one in passing or on TV, but I always thought they looked fun to ride. My face flushed, remembering what I was wearing—well, what I wasn’t wearing.

“What’s wrong?”

Oh God. How was I going to explain that I decided not to wear underwear? Yeah, I had pantyhose on, but they were transparent. If my dress lifted, I would be exposed to everyone.

“You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?” My head snapped to his. His eyes were as dark as his chuckle. He backed me up to the side of the building, my back pressed against the brick. The cool sensation did nothing to cool down the way my body temperature was rising under his lustful gaze. “Answer me.”

“N-no.” I was surprised I found my voice, especially since his presence was enough to make me breathless.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praised, clenching his teeth together like he was trying to hold something in. My tongue ran along the seam of my lips, his eyes following the movement before giving in to himself. “Fuck it.”

His lips slammed against mine, and not like the previous times where he gave me time to get used to the idea of his lips against mine. No, he just took them like he owned them.

And in that moment, I knew I’d give him any part of me he wanted.

I wasn’t going to let inexperience derail me from trying to match his pace. It was a good effort, but ultimately, Mitchell’s ruthless pursuit of trying to dominate every sense of my mouth won—a fight I didn’t mind losing. I moaned, the vibrations giving a pleasant sensation, making him pull back. His hunger for me was more evident than it had ever been.

“Fuck our date,” he panted as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his bike. “You better not show anyone what’s underneath that dress of yours, because if you do? Just know there’ll be consequences, pretty girl.”

Defiance briefly flashed across my lust-filled mind, wanting whatever he was willing to give me. I already had a punishment coming because of my pantyhose, so what’s a few more?

“You’ll like my punishments.”

It was crazy how lust could overpower any sense you had. Earlier, I didn’t think I was ready for his ‘punishment,’ but now, with lust coating every nerve in my body… Not only did I think I was ready for them, but I was pretty sure I would love them, too.

Our mouths wouldn’t stop seeking the other’s out. Our tongues clashed, Mitchell’s dominating every crevice of my mouth as my back was flattened against his front door.

One of his hands left my waist, grabbing the doorknob and pulling it open as he fell through the front door. Once through the threshold, he kicked it shut. He pulled back, his lips just as swollen as I’m sure mine were. “Now this is a fucking date.”

His lips attacked mine yet again, my inexperience shining through as I tried to keep up with his pace. My efforts seemed to please him enough, or at least, he hadn’t complained yet. The way he was devouring me told me I was doing at least an adequate job. He pulled back again, a trail of saliva following him as he did. “You’re too fuckin’ slow.”

My heart stilled in my chest, insecurity rushing through me as I opened my mouth to apologize, but he threw me over his shoulder. I yelped as he gave me a resounding smack on my ass. “You’re too slow to get to the bedroom. I want my cock in your cunt now.”

In a second flat, we were in a different room, but I didn’t have time to scour the room as I was tossed onto the bed, landing on my back. Mitchell was bigger than me, but being flat on his bed with him leering over me like a monster who finally caught his prey made him look almost God-like. I brought my knuckles up to my lips, biting down on them to hide the embarrassing sounds about how he was turning me on just by looking at me. He wasn’t hiding how much he wanted me, and my shyness of my first time mixed with sexual inexperience made me second guess myself that I wouldn’t be enough to satisfy a man like him.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ dream. I had our night planned out—dancing, champagne, dinner with a view…” A wicked grin formed on his lips. “But no view compares to what I’m lookin’ at right now.”

My breath was expelled from my lungs as I was flipped over. I caught myself on my forearms and knees to prevent myself from going flat on the bed. I wasn’t sure what to do as his eyes were locked on my ass, eyes flashing with appreciation before he reached for the hem of my sweater dress, pulling it up to see what it hid from him.

“Such a bad girl for wearing pantyhose…” His tone was appreciative, despite his earlier proclamations for wanting to punish me. “Now it’s time for my reward.”

I barely had time to think as my pantyhose ripped, causing my breath to hitch when the cool air came in contact with my now exposed pussy. “The fact I’m the first and last man to ever see, taste, or touch your cunt brings out somethin’ primal in me.”

With my position on the bed, I had to strain my neck to look over my shoulder, and I saw his hungry eyes were still locked on my most intimate area. Between his stare and my inexperience, I just waited there uncomfortably. The wetness was beginning to feel overwhelming just waiting on him to do something to me, the pressure growing when he licked his lips.

Maybe he was teasing me, making me wait for longer than he knew I wanted, feeling degraded in a position like this. My arms were growing tired as I squirmed, trying to get more comfortable when I heard a growl from behind that made me still completely.

He walked to the bed, putting his knees on the mattress before gripping my hips to hold them still as I felt his warm tongue swiftly lick my core, making me moan or scream, I wasn’t sure which. I was too consumed with yet another new sensation he was making me feel. “Better than any meal I could’ve had tonight.”

He continued his feast, worshiping my pussy like it was his last meal on Earth. I didn’t recognize the sounds coming out of my mouth, my brain fogged with the pleasure of his constant assault between my legs. I tried to writhe to relieve the building pressure he was causing in my lower half, but it didn’t help, especially since Mitchell refused to let me move, his strong grip sure to leave some type of bruise on my pale skin. I couldn’t hold my moan back as his teeth scrapped against my sensitive clit. His teeth went back and nipped the bud before he pulled away.

“Oh God,” I whimpered, missing the sensation of his tongue against my warmth. Heat flooded back in as I glanced back at him, his lips shining with my arousal coating them.

He leaned over me, still fully clothed, as he put his lips a whisper away from mine. “You taste divine.” I felt the warmth of his breath as he hastily said, “Taste yourself off my lips; I want you to feel what I do to you.”

I swore my brain was slightly melted, the lust commanding my actions as I didn’t hesitate to swipe my tongue over his coated lips, tasting myself as my nipples tightened under the soft material of my sweater dress. Mitchell’s hazel eyes turned more brown than green, an undeniable hunger igniting in them. I went for another taste as he ripped away from me, knees on the bed as obvious lust took over his senses. He seemed like he was trying to calm himself, a contradiction of what I wanted him to be. My desire wanted him to ravage me, uncaring of the pain I knew was coming, and instead, focusing on the pleasure he was going to make me feel. “Mitchell?”

“I’ve always liked the way you say my name,” he panted, ripping his shirt over his head. “Now I wanna hear you scream it.”

I squealed as he pounced on me, flipping me over onto my back, grabbing the hem of my sweater, and pulling the material up over my breasts. My nipples hardened even further with the chilly air—it was almost painful, the contrast heightening my senses even more. His face flew to my neck, sucking on the pale flesh as one of his hands made its way down my body. His fingers brushed against the peak of my breasts before making their way down to the stiff bundle of nerves he was nipping with his teeth just moments earlier. His fingers circled the entrance of my pussy, testing the resistance before plunging his middle finger in knuckle-deep, making me buck at the sudden intrusion.

“I know it’s your first time, pretty girl. I can feel it.” He emphasized his point by thrusting his finger deeper inside my entrance, his heated pants cooling the moisture he left behind on my neck. “I can’t hold back. I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. Need to make my dream of how good your tight cunt feels a reality.” His ring finger joined his middle, and a slightly uncomfortable burn spread throughout my core, earning a breathless moan from me. He ramped up his motions, fingers stretching my entrance in circular motions. “I was planning on takin’ my time with you, but I fuckin’ need you. I don’t do gentle. When I fuck, I fuck hard.”

“I don’t want gentle.” I knew it was the endorphins talking because deep down, I wanted gentle. I wanted a perfect first time, with the perfect man I knew would take care of me. Mitchell would surely rip me apart and stitch me back together after. “I want you.”

“Dunno what I did to deserve a someone like you, but I guess God’s gotta be good to me sometimes.”

I felt the same way. God gave me Mitchell, and I didn’t know what I did to deserve such good compensation for my patience.

“I want to touch you, too,” I whined as I reached my hand between us. I brushed my hand over his jeans, lightly touching his bulge, making him hiss as his hips involuntarily shot forward. “Please, let me touch you.”

“You’ll feel me when I’m inside you.” He sat up on his knees, his chest heaving with heavy pants as he pulled a condom out from his back pocket before undoing his belt, then pulling his jeans down barely below his ass. His cock springing free drew my gaze and held my undivided attention.

Long, thick, and pulsating. My urge to please him like he just did with me was overwhelming. His arm stretched out, leveling the palm of his hand with my mouth. “Lick.”

More than willing I did as he commanded, my tongue sliding along his shaking palm—or maybe that was from the lust-filled nerves radiating throughout me. He took his now wet hand to his cock, giving it three slow, erratic strokes before flattening his body over mine. He was teasing his head with my slit. I gasped at the sensation and the thought of him filling me with his large cock. He noticed my slight panic with my widening eyes, and his eyes softened. “This is gonna hurt.”

I slammed my eyes shut, mentally preparing for the pain.

“Open your eyes. I want to see your eyes when I fuck you. Your eyes never stray from mine. I want to see the look in your eyes when I own you. Get me?”

It was a hard and slightly demeaning task, but I did it. His eyes glazed over, breaths still coming out in pants as he tried to restrain himself. I was rewarded for my efforts as the head of his cock pushed against my clit. Mitchell then applied slight pressure, making me feel like I was going crazy.

Distracted by the head of his cock, the stinging burn of his single thrust caught me by surprise. Tears slipped past my eyes as a throaty yell escaped without my permission.

“Breathe with me.” Mitchell’s soft coo took my mind off the stinging as I matched his breathing. “In and out… there you go. Such a good girl.”

With each passing moment, with each copied breath, I felt the pain twinge away slightly. I would follow this man anywhere, listen to his every command. I was at his mercy. I could be ashamed by the fact I let him have so much control over me, but for now, I wanted him to shut up and fill me to the brim.

I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me without question.

I tilted my hips up, silently letting him know I was ready for him, and his resounding groan filled the air between us. His teeth gnashed together, his jaw pulsating under the strain of the pressure. “Fuck! Baby. Please tell me you’re ready for me to move.”

His plea let me know that maybe I wasn’t the only one who had control over someone. A pitiful whine of vulgar words left my mouth. “Fuck me, Mitchell.”

“Every sound that comes out of your pretty mouth drives me insane,” he growled, wasting no time in pulling back before snapping his hips into mine again. A mewling sound left my lips as a contradicting burning pleasure came from his relentless thrusting. I didn’t know what to do, so I laid there while Mitchell did all the work, and I felt the same sensation as before build up inside me. My back arched, my face pushing closer to his as our eyes never broke contact with one another’s.

The ache between my legs was building with no relief in sight, and my tongue lolled out of my mouth. My hand traced down my body, which made Mitchell break his rule of eye contact as he watched my hand drift, already knowing the destination. “The only one allowed to touch you is me,” he growled possessively, words stilling my hand. “You touch yourself, and I’ll make sure you’re sobbing with need and even then, I might not let you finish.”

I debated if being punished was worth it. If his punishments were anything like what he was doing to me now—fucking me like he was going to the chair tomorrow—then it was very tempting. I knew he’d seen the indecision in my eyes when he looked at me again, his hazel ones daring me to defy him.

But I liked when he called me a good girl, so I decided to be just that. My hand trailed up his rippled abs, the exertion of his actions coating them in a way that made him even more sexy. My hand reached its destination of his dirty blond locks, gripping tightly as I threw my head back and choked out a moan.

“I’m addicted to you.” His voice was hoarse, still thrusting into me, my nerves on fire. “Every little fuckin’ thing about you, Nyla, I’m addicted to it. Your screams, your cries, your smiles.” He thrusted hard and deep, earning another gratifying moan from my lips. “Your moans. They’re. All. Mine.”

I was focused on his hips making contact with mine, making a delicious slapping sound that I was getting lost in the melody of. A disgruntled moan blew out of my lips as he hit a deep spot inside my cleft.

“Fuck!” he barked, losing himself in the motion of his hips, his forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mixing as he panted. “There’s gonna come a day when you hate me.” I tried to focus on his raspy words instead of his forceful thrusts, but it was difficult. “You’re gonna want to leave me, but I won’t let you.”

If I could form coherent words, I would’ve replied, but the only thing I could muster was a mewl as his cock filled me so completely. “Remember what I said about monsters, pretty girl? When they find their treasure—” He groaned as I felt convulsions wrack every nerve, sending me to what I thought was akin to heaven. “They.” Thrust. “Never.” Thrust. “Let.” Thrust. “Them.” Thrust. “Go.”

Bliss ripped through my nerves, sending my body into a dreamlike state. I still registered Mitchell above me, still felt his cock slip in and out of my body, but at a slower pace, extending the pleasure rippling through my body. I felt like I was on a cloud—physically here, but mentally far away. I softly sighed when he eventually pulled out, my body slumped on the bed and uncaring of the world around me. I vaguely heard water running before the bed I was lying on disappeared, slumped against a chest that was slightly sticky from sweat, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with him.

The only thing that woke me up from my dreamlike state was the warm water I was lowered into. My gaze was hazy as I looked over at Mitchell, his expression gentle as he let me go. “I know I was rough. Figured my pretty girl deserved some pampering.”

I did feel the lasting dull pain between my legs, but the warmth of the water was easing some of it, even if it was only mentally. My heart felt full with the fact such a large, rough man was taking care of me so lovingly. “I feel fine.”

He chuckled. “Slurred words still?”

I nodded, resting my arms against the side of the tub and resting my head against my folded arms, looking at him. “Yeah, that felt better than I could have ever imagined. I knew you wouldn’t be gentle, but I liked it.” My face burned at my admittance.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine. “Told you I would make you enjoy every time I touched you, pretty girl.”

“You’ve kept your word,” I confirmed, feeling boneless. “Will it feel this good every time?”

“Maybe not at first, but you’ll learn to enjoy my punishments.” He grabbed a loofah, pouring his body wash on the before dipping it into the warm water. “But before we’re done…? I’ll always make sure you feel as good as you look right now.”

I smiled. “I like the way I feel right now.”

“Sit up; let me take care of you.” I did as he asked, concentrating on him rubbing my body with the loofah. I didn’t realize how sensitive your body could be after sex—it felt akin to floating though you were on the ground. I gasped as the rough material went slower over my nipples before scrubbing the other parts of my body. Mitchell’s hand went deeper under the water, and I flinched slightly as he touched my sore area. He pulled back. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” I looked over at him, my vision hazy around the edges. “But it was worth it.” He didn’t respond, just continued washing me. “I thought you were going to punish me?”

His smile was cunning. “You’re still due for one, but I couldn’t resist you long enough to do it. Most women would be running out the door if I treated them how I just treated you.”

“I’m not scared of anything you do to me.” He stilled in his actions, his eyes no longer on me but on the ground. I sat up from my relaxed position in the tub, reaching my hand out to touch his cheek, the water falling off my skin and onto his. “Mitchell?”

“That’s a mistake, Nyla.” His tone was so quiet, I wouldn’t have heard him if the room wasn’t silent. “That’s a huge mistake.”

“According to you, I’ve been making nothing but mistakes since I’ve met you.” I rubbed his cheek, the stubble of his beard rough against my thumb. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He was silent for a moment, his loving aura gone, replaced with one that felt slightly suffocating. His head snapped up, surprising me and making me drop my hand as my eyes widened. “You don’t have a choice but to stick around and find out now, pretty girl.”

“There’s gonna come a day when you hate me. You’re gonna wanna leave me, but I won’t let you.”

I remembered his clear words despite the fog surrounding my clarity. Was he talking about his bi-polar disorder? I would never leave him over a mental illness he couldn’t control. My mind wandered off to when he told me it wasn’t always easy for him to pick up the pieces of his actions whenever his impulses took over. And while he showed me a sliver of that side of him, I would be with him every step of the way.

I wanted Mitchell by my side.

My lips turned up with unease, and I wasn’t sure what to say. The tension between us was slightly awkward as he continued washing me. His movements were still gentle, but his muscles were more rigid than they were before. I put my hand on his forearm, trying to rub the tension out of his muscles. He immediately relaxed under my touch, and his movements became more fluid. The tension between us lessened as I let him continue to wash me. My eyes were drooping shut, the sound of his laugh filling my ears. “Tired?”

“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled as I was picked up out of the tub, the water soaking like a waterfall to the floor. I would’ve been embarrassed, but I was too satiated to care. He set my feet down on the floor, and I had to admit, I was a little wobbly, using him as a crutch while he dried me off, taking his time over my sensitive areas and causing me to shiver for more reasons other than the chilly air. He must’ve noticed how cold I was to the touch since, instead of teasing me, he rushed to get me dried off before scooping me back up into his arms, still damp as he put me in his bed.

My eyes shut as the corner of my lips tilted with gratitude when I felt him get in on the other side of me. He pulled me close as I laid my head on his chest, sighing contently. The feelings bubbling inside me were almost too much for me to handle. I knew I didn’t love Mitchell, but I couldn’t deny the way my heart was beginning to ache to see him, and how I missed him when he wasn’t with me.

“Got somethin’ comin’ up next weekend,” he whispered as he played with a strand of my hair. “Why don’t you bring Joslyn and Oakley along?”

I shifted my face up to look at him. “What is it?”

“A party. I’m scouting some clients for my boss. Don’t think I can be away from you for a night.” My heart warmed. I was glad I wasn’t the only one feeling affected by whatever was going on between us.

“I’m sure Joslyn would love to go, but Oakley…” I sighed, thinking about her anxiety when it came to large crowds. “Oakley doesn’t do parties.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t say.” I would just let him infer. To this day, I didn’t even know all the details about what happened that night, but even if I did, I wouldn’t share them. It was Oakley’s story to share with who she wanted.

“Maybe she’ll want to get out of her comfort zone.” Doubtful, but there was always a chance. “Until then…” His lips twisted into a grin as he threw his legs over my hips, arousal spreading through my body once again. “Let’s play, pretty girl.”

He lowered his head, his lips moving against mine slowly as the corner of my lips turned up and his tongue wrestled with mine for dominance. I easily gave in to him again, just like I knew I would every time we were together like this.

I couldn’t deny it; I was addicted to Mitchell Walker.

CHAPTER 8

Nyla

“J oslyn, it’s a party. Why did you need to bring your whole closet with you?”

“Never know what can happen,” she defended. I would never understand why she felt the need to bring five outfits with her for one night. The three of us—excluding Joslyn—were introverted, preferring nights in over nights out. But it was always nice to go out once in a while. “Besides, I had an outfit planned, but I didn’t know how I’d feel about it today or if I’d be too bloated to wear it. A girl’s gotta have options!”

I couldn’t deny that. One of the lovely perks of being a woman came with random bloating and how mother nature could strike its curse at any time, making whatever you were planning on wearing a laughingstock to her. Being a woman was fun. Not.

“It was nice of Mitchell to invite us. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been out and had some fun.” Between school, work, and watching her sister, Joslyn hasn’t had a lot of free time on her hands. It was good to go out and have some fun every once in a while. Although for me, I’ve been having a good time since Mitchell and I decided to take whatever it is we had to the next level.

Ever since our last date, Mitchell had been a prince to not only me, but to Oakley and Joslyn. He was kind, considerate, and brought us lunch at Poppy Oak’s—he even brought in some more customers for us, too. Mainly the female crowd that made me bite the inside of my cheek whenever I noticed they were not paying attention to the flowers, but instead, staring at the sinful-looking man who Joslyn put to work since he was there so much.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. He was actually getting pretty good at putting flower arrangements together. Though, he said if his brothers ever found out, he’d never live it down.

We’d been spending time together whenever we had a free moment—meaning, whenever I was off work, he’d find the time to pick me up, even if he was busy doing whatever it was he did during the day. While I didn’t know anything about what he did for a living, it didn’t bother me since I didn’t know what Dad did, either.

Usually, we would end up at my apartment, though we would go to his house sometimes. We would go to his place whenever Oakley was home, since I knew how uncomfortable she felt around men in general, and Mitchell was an intimidating man to say the least.

But I didn’t find him intimidating. Mitchell was the safe place I didn’t know I needed, and he gave me the confidence to explore my sexuality in ways I didn’t even realize I craved. And he didn’t find my inexperience childish or as a turn-off. If anything, he was a patient teacher as I explored how to please him, showing me and telling me what he liked, and as I learned, I found I loved pleasing him just as much as I love having him please me.

When I told Joslyn and Oakley about this weekend, I already knew their reactions. Joslyn was chomping at the bit for the party, and Oakley kindly declined. It wasn’t until Mitchell came over to watch a movie with us, and he told Oakley that he’d make sure she was safe during the party, was when she relented. I could see the debate in her eyes—the one between being a recluse and trying to get her life back on track. She was going to regret it the day of the party, but she never went back on her word. Just another thing I admired about Mitchell was his ability to connect with others, and more specifically, the way we were able to connect with each other.

I bit my lip, trying to contain the excitement beating in my chest. It had been a week since our first night together. I’d woken up in his bed the morning after, my head on his chest and leg sprawled over his thighs. His hair was wild with running my fingers through it constantly the night before. I’d seem many emotions from Mitchell—angry, cunning, manipulating—but I’ve never seen him at peace until the morning after our first night together.

The morning after was a dream—a round-three type dream. He was still sleepy, but even half-asleep, he had skills that drove my senses into overdrive.

We made sure the date he planned for us didn’t go to waste after all, although it was cut short. Mitchell couldn’t get enough of me, just like I couldn’t get enough of him. With each time we had sex, my confidence grew. He made me feel so comfortable in my own skin. He fucked my father’s threat right out of my head, and even if I was dead to my dad, all the orgasms Mitchell had gifted me the past week made it slightly worth it.

Lust was a powerful emotion, and I now understood why so many people got lost in their desires.

After the post-orgasmic bliss wore off, my mind always went to the fight I had with Dad. I was still struggling with what he said to me. That wasn’t a normal reaction to have, and since he’s been out of town on business, we couldn’t even talk it out like usual when we had these sorts of disagreements. Instead, it was stewing inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. I hoped once we talked things out, the impending doom of the eruption would calm. For now, I was trying to distract it with Mitchell, and what a great job he was doing at keeping my mind off things.

Besides, Dad never had to know about me and Mitchell sleeping together—unless Mitchell opened his mouth about it. Which would be mortifying in itself, but also could cause catastrophic damage to my relationship with him.

At first, I was worried that as soon as I gave myself up to him, that would be all it was, but he’s made sure to text me during the day and insisted he told me goodnight over the phone—which led to some dirty talk, filled with him listening to me get off to his dirty words.

I didn’t ever think I’d be that type of girl, but Mitchell brought out a side of me I never knew existed. I felt so alive for the first time in my life. I used to feel so left out hearing about my peers’ escapades with men, and I barely had experience talking to them, thanks to Dad. I didn’t know if Mitchell and I would work out, and a big part of me was hoping his affection was more than the lust-filled looks he gave me—the way he was with me told me what we felt went both ways.

Only time would tell, though, but I was hopeful for our future together.

My phone pinged, drawing my attention away from my thoughts.

Mitchell: Be there in five.

“Mitchell’s almost here,” I told Joslyn, who was finishing straightening her long blond hair. I took the time to look at my appearance. A red halter top—to match my red-painted lips, the only make-up I’ve been wearing since my date with Mitchell—paired with black skinny jeans with a simple pair of black flats. “Do I look okay?”

“You look great. Even if you wore two Cheese-Its and a thong, I think Mitchell would still find you attractive.”

I choked at the imagery of her words. Gotta love Joslyn; you never knew what was going to come flying out of that mouth of hers. My phone pinged again. Speaking of never knowing what’s going to fly out of someone’s mouth, holy—

Mitchell: No underwear tonight.

Well, I kind of had to. Not wearing underwear with jeans was an uncomfortable disaster waiting to happen.

Me: What happens if I do?

I already knew some semblance of the answer he was going to give me—and I was beyond ready for the consequences of my defiance.

Mitchell: Wear some and find out. Promise you, they’ll be in my pocket by the end of the night.

I bit the inside of my cheek to focus on something other than fucking him. Why was everything this man said so erotic?

I debated on changing into leggings, but where was the fun in that? I wanted to see if he would go through with his threat—no, his promise. A man like Mitchell made no threats. I guess I was changing into leggings. Before I went to change, I called out to Oakley to make sure she was ready.

“Oakley!” I called out. Our apartment wasn’t a big space, so I knew she could hear me. “Mitchell’s almost here. Are you ready?”

When she didn’t answer, I shouted for her again but still, no response. I left Joslyn alone in the bathroom and walked into the living room, where Oakley—who was dressed fashionably in ripped light blue jeans, a black undershirt, and a black- and white-checkered flannel—was mumbling to herself on the couch. “Oak?”

She jumped at my words, the fear in her eyes there for a second before they slipped away. “Hey.”

My eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t sound convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to give myself a pep-talk.”

I hated how much going out tonight was clearly affecting her. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I need to.” Her admission surprised me. “I’ve been living in the past for four years. I need to try… try to go back to who I was. Or at least, find someone like her.”

I couldn’t deny that tonight would be a huge step in the right direction for her. I didn’t want to push her out of her comfort zone—I knew how detrimental that could be to her healing process—but seeing her so reclused and afraid of everything was heartbreaking. I hated seeing her live as a shell of the person she was in high school before that night.

“I’m proud of you, Oak.” And I truly was. If I were in her shoes, I don’t know if I would be able to go against every thought in my mind telling me I was making the wrong decision. “We’re going to have fun tonight, I promise.”

Her smile told me she wasn’t reassured by my words, but she was at least listening.

A knock on the door made our heads turn and my skin heated, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door. I rushed to the door a little too quickly and threw it open. Just like every time previously, my heart began to race at the sight of him. Dressed in a hunter-green Henley and straight-legged khakis, he stood with his hands in his pockets. The longer top of his hair fell haphazardly to the right side, and his hazel eyes were locked on me.

Is skipping the party an option? He knew what I was thinking if his deep chuckle was any indication. He leaned down, pressing his lips on mine in greeting before moving his mouth to my ear. “Don’t make me be rude in front of your friends.”

His comment made my face burn. What did he turn me into? I was still learning as I went, and it was embarrassing to admit that we’ve only known each other about a month, but we were already so rooted into one another. My head still hadn’t wrapped around the fact that he wants me as much as I want him. Even if it was just physical with no romantic feelings involved. But I couldn’t deny the way my heart felt whenever I was around him, and it was only growing stronger with every interaction.

“Are you ladies ready to go?” With a chaste kiss on the side of my neck, Mitchell straightened his back and glanced at Oakley, who refused to meet his eyes.

“I am!” Joslyn chirped, having decided on a baby-blue sundress with tan gladiator-style sandals.

Mitchell chuckled. “If you’re this way sober, I wonder how you are when you have a few hard ones in ya.”

Joslyn deflated, her green eyes dulling slightly. She didn’t drink; in fact, she acted odd whenever alcohol was in the vicinity or even mentioned. Whenever we had our girls’ night, and Oakley and I were sipping on our wine—which Joslyn denied a glass every time—she would stare at it with longing in her eyes. “I don’t drink.”

“I respect that.” He nodded, not questioning her any further before turning his attention to Oakley. “You ready to go, Oakley?”

She stood from the couch, shyly meeting his eyes. “Thanks for inviting us out tonight.”

He dipped his chin at her. Oakley was respectful, always saying please and thank you—even if it was something she didn’t want to do.

He threw his arm around my shoulders, drawing me close, and I instantly relaxed into his touch like I had since our first date. He twisted us around toward the front door, and walking out to the lawn, we spotted his car in the driveway. Joslyn and Oakley were right behind us, and when the resounding click echoed from Oakley locking our front door, Mitchell said, “A rule with me. You ladies don’t open your doors; I’ll open them for you. Got me?”

“What a gentleman,” Joslyn sang, loving the princess treatment. “You have any brothers?”

He turned and looked at her proudly. “I have lots of ‘em.”

I couldn’t wait to meet them one day. If they were anything like Mitchell, then I knew they were great men. He still hadn’t talked a lot about them, but lately, whenever we’ve been together, there hadn’t been much talking.

Heat pooled between my legs at the thought of exactly how much time we’ve spent not talking. Yeah, I really didn’t want to go to this party now; I wanted to have fun another way—with him between my legs and my hand entangled in his hair.

Discovering your sexuality was a fun experience.

When we reached the car, Mitchell removed his arm from around my shoulders, then opened the door for Joslyn and Oakley, making sure they were inside before coming to my side again. The smirk he shot me was filled with canal intentions, making my top teeth bite into my bottom lip to relieve the pressure I was feeling.

He backed me up until my back met the car, the chilly metal digging into my back uncomfortably, but the man in front of me was taking my mind off the sensation. “Promise we won’t be there long. I just gotta talk to some people for my boss, then I’ll take care of my favorite girl.”

I looked up at him through my lashes and bit my lip. “Promise?”

He chuckled at my eagerness, but I knew he couldn’t get enough of me, either. “Promise.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips into mine in what was meant for a brief kiss, but just like all interactions, we became lost in each other. That was until someone started banging on the window. My face bloomed red like a girl getting caught red-handed doing something bad. “That Joslyn is a cockblock, ain’t she?”

“Apparently,” I muttered, giving her my best glare, which she just shrugged off with an unapologetic look. I guess I couldn’t blame her; I wouldn’t want to see her making out with anyone, even though there hasn’t been anyone over the years I’ve known her. There were suitors, for sure, but once they learned about her little… problem, as they called it, they ran away. So, she’s just given up entirely.

She was so lovable; I knew she’d find the right person to show her that one day.

Mitchell opened my door, making it a point to keep his hand on me until he couldn’t anymore. But when he got into the driver’s seat, he instantly put his hand on my thigh, grounding me into what felt like a fantasy world the past few weeks. I put my head on the headrest, turning my head to the left to look at him, finding him already looking at me. “Ready to go?”

I nodded as he revved the engine, my eyes entranced by him. I’m prepared to go anywhere with you.

The house Mitchell pulled up to was eerie to put it lightly. It was already dusk, and we were out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees that silhouetted against the house in the darkness of the setting sun. The only light that was visible was the one window in the front of the small, one-story house where it a multitude of lights were flashing.

There was barely a place to park with all the cars on the lawn. Whoever owned this house wouldn’t be happy with all the tire tracks that were going to be left behind. “What is this place?”

“Hellbound,” Mitchell answered, making my stomach pang with an odd feeling. What kind of name for a place was that?

“That’s a nice name for a home,” Joslyn responded dryly. “Totally not scary at all.”

Mitchell shrugged from his seat, undoing his seatbelt. “I didn’t name it. Whoever owns this property did, and from what I’ve heard about them, they’re hardcore fuckers.”

“A-are they going to be here tonight?” Oakley’s reaction pulled at my heart.

“Not sure. Even if they are, don’t worry. Nyla doesn’t want anything to happen to you, so I won’t let it.” That didn’t do anything to settle her nerves, and honestly, mine were starting to ramp up a bit. You could hear the bass from the music through the car, and the number of cars on the lawn indicated there were a lot of people in there.

I’ve never been a big crowd person. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

“Hey.” My head snapped to Mitchell’s when the warmth of his hand palmed my cheek. “Won’t let anything happen to your friends, especially won’t let anything happen to you. You trust me?”

Did I? Was it crazy for me to trust someone I was still getting to know? I trusted him with my body and my pleasure, and I was starting to trust him with my heart—despite his warnings telling me no, his actions told me yes. I put all my growing feelings for him in my smile. “Yeah. I trust you, Mitchell.”

I was not expecting the flash of guilt in his eyes that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. It was so quick, I convinced myself I was imagining it.

“Let’s get this over with.” Mitchell exited the car, opening Oakley and Joslyn’s doors before coming to mine. The three of us were nervously huddled together, not knowing what to expect. Mitchell’s hand snaked to my hip, pulling our bodies together. “Just stick by me and you’ll be okay.”

We began to walk inside when Joslyn asked, “Who’s all going to be here?”

“Just a group of dumb kids with too much money to spare,” he answered as we made our way to the front door, the music making the hardwood vibrate.

I looked at Joslyn, concerned with how the loud sounds were affecting her, to see her slightly pained look. One of her hands went up to her ears, trying to soothe the pain she felt when it came to loud noises. She was trying to be strong, and while I didn’t like that, I didn’t want to embarrass her, either. She didn’t want people to know about her disability. She didn’t like the pitiful stares, or the treatment people gave her when they found out.

Mitchell opened the door and walked in like he owned the place. This was my first house party, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. But whatever it was, it wasn’t what we walked in on. Not only was the music impossibly loud, but the stench of alcohol and weed filled the air, making my throat swell slightly under the abundance that was wafting through the house. I covered my nose, but it was no help with the copious smell.

We walked down the entryway; the dim light and smoke became more copious the farther we went. I could barely see the group of twelve in the middle of the living room, drinking and snorting white powder of the living room table. The girls were barely clothed and laughing while the men were getting handsy with them.

My mouth fell open seeing as some of the men were even getting sucked off on the adjacent love seat, while others were waiting their turn. My stomach felt as if it had marbles swirling around. I’ve never been to a house party, just seen the ones in the movies, but I always thought they were exaggerated. Guess not.

The pit in my gut began to grow in discomfort, but looking at Mitchell, he didn’t look fazed by what was happening around us. Instead, he just led us inside, garnering the attention from everyone in the room but not giving them his attention. That was, until a shrill voice screamed louder than the music.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” My jaw dropped as a woman who looked exactly like Joslyn marched toward me. The only differences between the two were Jordyn’s grayish skin, the needle marks scarring her arms, and how she was slightly thinner with gaunt eyes.

I was breathless with disbelief. “Jordyn?”

Her dull green eyes scanned our group of four, growing with intensity when they landed on Joslyn, then even further when she noticed Mitchell’s hand on my hip. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” Mitchell snapped at her, his hand tightening on my hip. “Don’t act like you own this place; you’re only here by association.”

“How do you even know them?” The music lowered so everyone could hear the altercation. “And what are you doing with her?”

She said my name with such disdain, you’d think I just took away something she wanted, and by the way she was eying Mitchell, I didn’t think I was far off. I pursed my lips, wrapping them around Mitchell in a silent claim. The vibrations in his chest told me how amusing he thought my jealousy was.

“I’m with her because I want to be.” His tone was a deadly calm, almost a warning. “If you’re gonna be a bitch, you and your associates can leave. Wanna go tell Lincoln the deal won’t get done because of you? I’m sure he’d love that.”

“You need to chill, Jordyn!” someone shouted from the small crowd near the couches. I glanced over toward the voice, noticing the line of guys had diminished greatly—and the girls were adjusting themselves before they ran off. I didn’t realize how many people bailed when Mitchell lost his temper. “We need Mitchell to get the deal done. Just come here and take a hit. Leave them the fuck alone.”

With one last glance at Joslyn—who’s face was mixed with pain and surprise—Jordyn huffed, then turned on her heels, making her way back to her very intoxicated group. The music was blaring once again as we were now being ignored to the best of the others’ curious abilities.

“How does she know you?” Mitchell led our group away from prying eyes to the adjacent couch set in the opposite corner. The open concept room still made us visible to the others, but there was a bit more distance between us.

“She hangs around where my brothers and I do.” He was casual, with no indication that he knew her, just knew of her. But she was acting like she knew him, even though that could just be her jealousy of me talking.

Joslyn sat on the couch first, her light skin slightly paler than usual. Her knee bounced as she kept glancing at Jordyn, her face reddening as she glanced away. Oakley wasn’t fairing much better as she sat right next to Jordyn, then wrapped her arms protectively around herself. The two of them obviously wanted to leave already, not expecting the party to be quite like this… though, neither did I. Seeing the hard drug use and public sex acts was enough to make me run out the door, but seeing Jordyn—someone I loathed because of her treatment of her sister—just killed the good vibe I was trying to maintain for their sake.

This party was already a disaster.

“Mitchell!” An obviously drunken man came up to us. He was stumbling, reeking of enough hard alcohol to make the paint peel off the walls. I curled into Mitchell, an action that drew the drunk’s attention to me. His eyes raked up and down my figure, the lust in his glassy eyes making me shiver in disgust. The only person I wanted to look at me like that was Mitchell. “Recruiting new talent? I’d be happy to take a spin after you’re done—”

He didn’t even get to finish his words before Mitchell slammed him against the wall, the loud bang drawing loud gasps from everyone in the room. His eyes reminded me of the day he punched my dad, so full of rage they could melt someone from the inside out. “You don’t fuckin’ speak to her, let alone look at her. She’s way too good for a shady fucker like you, get me?” Mitchell took a step forward, his face mere centimeters from the drunken man, his deep growl full of deadly promise. “Next time you do, it’ll be the last thing you see.”

The man smirked, his eyes still on me. I couldn’t tell if the alcohol was clouding the smart part of his brain or if he was just an idiot. “Still…” He licked his lips. “It’d be worth it.”

His body slammed against the wall once more, the force causing some of the pictures to fall off the nails. Screeches bellowed from the mass group only feet away, drowned out slightly by the music. A trail of blood appeared where his head smacked heavily against the wall as Mitchell’s glare turned deadly and his hand wrapped around the man’s throat. The man grasped at Mitchell’s hand, his nails leaving marks and kicking the air where Mitchell had lifted him off the ground. “Wanna say that again?”

The hit against the wall made the man’s eyes lighten with slight sobriety as he was trying to talk, but his airway was compromised by Mitchell’s grasp. I froze at the terrifying display of violence. This was different than the day with my dad—this was murderous behavior. I didn’t know this side of Mitchell; he’s only shown me love and care with his callous hands. I couldn’t let him kill someone over some drunken words.

“Whoever hurts you is gonna pay for it with my fists or a bullet.”

I wasn’t worth the violence he was projecting on the man he had pinned against the wall. Dread swirled inside me as the man began to turn a different color, still struggling as he fought to get out of Mitchell’s grasp, but it was futile. I ran to him. “Mitchell!”

He turned to me, his expression still hard as he reiterated, “I won’t allow you to be disrespected, Nyla. I told you that before.” He turned back to the man he had pinned up on the wall, his hand still tightly wrapped around his neck that was sure to leave bruises. “He needs to learn a lesson.”

“I’m sure he’s learned it!” I put my hand on his forearm, making his eyes snap to it. I noted how tense his muscles were, so I rubbed them in a soothing motion, like I had the one day he bathed me after our first time. I was hoping it would calm him enough to let the drunken man go. “Everything you told me is true. I know that now, and I’m kicking myself for not believing it at the time, but I was serious when I said I’m not worth it. Please, let him go. I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me.”

Mitchell’s jaw was pulsing, struggling between his determination and my plea. Ultimately, he released the man. His bottom hit the floor as he gasped for air, chest heaving with every painful breath, his brown eyes full of fear as he looked up at Mitchell, the bruises already showing on his neck, despite the dim lighting.

“Fuck. Off,” Mitchell spat at him through clenched teeth, trying to rein himself in. “If you come near her again, she won’t be able to stop me.”

I assume the other man got the message since he shot up with as much grace as his drunk self could muster and scrambled away as fast as he could, not looking back or even re-joining his friends. Instead, he was smart enough to bypass everyone, stumbling right out the front door.

Everyone’s attention snapped to us. Confusion, anger, jealousy, and cattiness were some of the emotions I saw in their expressions. The attention was making my anxiety bubble, my skin itching with nerves as I involuntarily stepped closer to Mitchell for comfort, despite him almost killing a man.

What did that drunk mean by recruiting? And why did he assume I was one of them? What exactly was his boss wanting to recruit Jordyn and her friends for? I know Jordyn was unemployed—everything she had was graciously paid for by her sister. I side-eyed Mitchell, my mind turning at what kind of business he was involved with where his boss would make him want to cut a deal with these people. “You really are working?”

He curtly nodded. “Yeah.”

“What exactly do you do?”

He looked at me, darkened eyes not giving what he felt away. “Fuck things up.”

That answer gave me chills, a far cry from when he told me he did scouting work. Fear stirred in my gut; the man I thought I was getting to know was quickly becoming a stranger to me all over again. I looked at my two friends, who wanted to get out of here as much as I did. “Can we leave? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

He was hesitant, choosing his words carefully. “I… can’t let you do that.”

The finality of his words was backed up by the look of decisiveness in his eyes, making dread settle like a nail in a coffin. His posture told me he wasn’t lying; his old colors were clashing with my newly discovered ones, sparking newfound fear in me. “Why not?”

“Told you I’d take care of you and your friends. I still gotta do my scouting for my boss.”

His avoidance of my question made panic course through me, feeling slightly hysterical with the new onslaught of emotions. My hands trembled in my lap as I glanced around the party. “Can you just get it over with?”

“It’ll be soon, just gotta let the tension die down. High-strung emotions won’t work in their favor.”

They were high- strung before we got here, I thought as we watched yet another joint be passed around, the disgusting smell filling the air and killing my mood even more. Right now, I was feeling very overstimulated, and not even Mitchell’s touch could settle my nerves—in fact, they were heightening them. I was trying to brush off his behavior as stress from his task, but something felt off. Him saying we couldn’t leave was setting off alarm bells, but it was too late to escape. I could only hope this would be over soon. I rubbed at the ring on my necklace, hoping the etched words against my fingers would bring some semblance of comfort when I couldn’t find any.

I looked at my friends, and I saw Joslyn rubbing her ears as Oakley turned to Joslyn, signing, ‘Are you okay?’

Mitchell lifted an eyebrow, an indication he had seen what we had wanted to hide. “What’s she doing?”

I sighed. Looks like I had to tell him now. “She’s signing to her. Joslyn’s deaf.”

His eyes widened at my admittance. “No shit?”

Shaking my head, I felt bad. I had told her secret she had tried to keep hidden. “She has hearing aids, but when it’s loud like this, the noises cancel each other out and she can’t hear anything.”

“Why didn’t she just take them out when we got here?”

“She doesn’t want the pitiful looks. She hides the pain as much as she can to feel normal.” I’m glad she was distracted so she didn’t see the disheartening look on my face that was directed at her. “People would do anything to feel normal.”

He was silent for a moment, considering my words. “What did she sign to her?”

“Just asked her if she was okay.”

“What a fuckin’ mess,” he muttered. He ran his free hand through the longer part of his dirty blond hair, messing it up in a way that already made the wavy strands more alluring. He noticed my slightly heated stare, meeting it with a shrewd smirk of his own. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll take you right here in front of everyone, pretty girl.”

My face heated for another reason besides all the stares still directed toward us, followed by whispers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were discussing; we were surprisingly the oddities of this party. The feel of knuckles going under my chin to lift my head brought me out of my thoughts. Looking into the pair of hazel eyes I’d grown so accustomed to making me feel special now made me feel like a lust-struck fool.

Mitchell motioned for me to sit on the couch, but I couldn’t see myself relaxing. I hadn’t even taken a good look around. It was a small place, not homey by any means. Instead, I looked at my surroundings. The open concept had the living and dining room in one big area, no furniture besides the couch we occupied and the love seat, and the Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table the other group was currently drinking and doing lines on. I couldn’t see the kitchen or any other room to see if there was any furniture in those. The dimmed lights made the gray walls look even darker, effectively setting the tone of this party.

Joslyn signed, ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ and I relayed the message to Mitchell.

“Down the hall, last room on the right. Might tell her she’ll want to knock before she goes in there, though. Never know what you’re going to walk in on…”

Oakley stood with Joslyn, leading her in the direction Mitchell said since she didn’t want the wrath of everyone’s stares. Now it was just me and him—and the twelve others in the room, who were giving us passing glances every few minutes.

“Finally, we’re alone.” He pulled me into his lap, and as much as I wanted to relax into him, I remained stiff. The atmosphere was suffocating, and I just wanted Mitchell to finish up his business so we could leave. “What’s wrong?”

The public sex acts. The drug use. The fact that everyone here is looking at me like they want to take us out back and shoot me. That was just the things I could think of off the top of my head that was wrong with this situation. I debated reminding him about how I just wanted to leave, but my gut feeling was that the answer would be the same, so I just settled for, “This isn’t my typical crowd.”

“I would hope not.” His hand trailed up my back, his hand snatching around the back of my neck and forcing my eyes to lock on his, his hunger evident. “You’re only allowed to be a bad girl for me and me only.”

My breath caught in my throat. Only Mitchell could make me horny in a crowd full of catty women who wanted me dead to be in my position, and men who were vying to be where Mitchell was. My tongue traced my lips, doing it slowly enough so I knew his eyes would lock in on it. Our breaths mingled as I lowered my face to his, wanting to forget about his mixed signals and this God-awful party.

His lips met mine, taking my mind off the crowd and my racing thoughts. My hand slipped behind his neck, the other one landing on his cheek as his tongue forced its way past the seam of my lips, loving the way it dominated mine. He gripped my hips, coaxing me to straddle him, which I put up no fight against. I pushed my hips into his, feeling how much he wanted me. I wanted him just as badly, the wetness between my thighs making my underwear damp.

“You didn’t listen to me.” He pulled away, teeth nipping my lips and causing me to gasp at the slight amount of pain. “What did I say would happen if you wore underwear?”

“That they’d be in your pocket by the end of the night,” I recalled to him, the husky tone of my voice making his eyes glaze over. Something in his eyes snapped as I was lifted into the air—and if the group’s attention wasn’t on us, it surely was now.

“I’m going to make true to my promise, pretty girl.”

I didn’t know where Mitchell was taking me, but that thought made what he was doing much more exciting. We didn’t make it to the room before he pressed me against the wall of the hallway Oakley and Joslyn went down earlier, his actions rough and erotic. My legs were wrapped around his waist like a vise, keeping me upright as he undid the button of my jeans with one hand. The lust was driving his unsteady movements, giving him trouble getting to where he wanted to be—inside me.

“Unwrap your legs.” His raspy command filled my ears when he finally was able to undo the button. I dropped my feet to the floor so he could yank my panties and jeans down my legs. My jeans fell to my ankles as I stepped out of them, yelping when I felt the seams of my panties rip at the sides before Mitchell held the torn fabric up like a trophy.

“Naughty, naughty Nyla.” His words were meant to be scolding, but instead, they light my core on fire. He kicked my pants away before placing the torn pieces of my underwear into his back pocket, as promised. “You wanted me to rip your panties and expose your cunt to everyone, didn’t you?”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip, bucking my hips forward to try to relieve some of the tension I felt from his dirty words. The hazel color of his eyes swirled into a dark brown, lust glazing over them in his desire for me.

He placed his calloused hands on the back of my exposed thighs, lifting me against the wall before pinning the front of my body with his to hold me in place as one of his hands fumbled with his belt. I loved how I was making him feel out of control; he could barely get his pants down over his hips before taking no time to fill me with his cock. I didn’t mind the tinge of pain I felt when he didn’t let me get acclimated to his large size. My moan was so loud, I was afraid everyone could hear me over the music.

Thank God we decided on no condoms after our first few times together. I was on birth control, and he hadn’t been with anyone in years, but he wanted to get checked before he swore off condoms.

When he came back clean, the boxes of unused condoms went into the garbage, never thought about again. Bare was much better.

“Anyone could walk down this hallway and see what I’m doing to you right now,” he grunted in my ear, his thrusts pounding me into the wall, matching the vibrations of the music. “Do you want that, Nyla? You want someone to see me fuck you against the wall like a dirty whore?”

I couldn’t respond; the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing over my clit made it impossible to think, let alone speak. I tilted my head back, my head thumping against the wall in sync with the loud bass. The thought that anyone could walk around the corner and see us was thrilling.

Just like him, I knew I wasn’t going to last long, but I never wanted this to end. I was trying to prolong the feeling as much as I could since I was addicted to the ecstasy he was making me feel.

“Tell me, Nyla.” His teeth nipped the skin of my neck before blowing, causing a sensation that drove me insane. “Tell me you love knowing that someone can see what I’m doing to you, that they can hear how good I make you feel. Show them how mine you really are.”

“I’m yours.” My words were slurred, incoherent. My mind was growing hazier the closer I got to the edge Mitchell was about to throw me off. “Never give me back, Mitchell.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he groaned as his thrusts became more erratic. “You’re fucking addicting. Being inside you one last time, I’m going to have to go to rehab, baby.”

I don’t think he realized what he said, but I did. My lust-filled mind sobered completely, making me still my movements. He had no such qualms, thrusting hard a few more times before he stilled, taking me with him as he tipped over the edge.

His body pressed tightly against mine as he released inside me, taking me over the edge with a breathy moan. Mitchell was keeping his word that I would enjoy every time he touched me, because every time he did, it ended with me writhing beneath him—or writhing against the wall with him keeping me upright. The warmth he left inside me slid down my thighs as he pulled out, but my mind was still focused on his words, hoping I had heard him wrong.

“It’s so good to be inside me one last time?” My heart felt like it was splintering, panic severing the pieces. “What do you mean?”

His body tensed as he lowered me to the ground, buttoning up his jeans. “I meant it’s good to be inside you one last time tonight. You know I don’t think straight when it comes to you, Nyla.”

I wanted to believe him, but the discomfort growing in my gut told me not to. I ignored the mess between my legs. “What’s going on, Mitchell?”

He didn’t answer me; instead, he removed his Henley, leaving him in a black tank top. He handed the shirt over to me. “Put this on; you’d be uncomfortable in jeans.”

I did as he asked, my foggy mind clearing and making me realize we were still at a party where anyone could see me if they came around the corner. I tried again, firmer this time. “Mitchell.”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hallway with minimal effort. I felt the stares on us again. I knew they would realize what we did, but I didn’t care about that right now. I cared about why Mitchell was acting off. “Mitchell, please tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

His phone buzzed, causing him to take a deep breath, like he was trying to calm himself. He let go of my hand, but it felt as if he was letting go of me. Of us.

My pulse beat so rapidly, you could see it against my skin. Mitchell looked at the floor, his hair shadowing his eyes. His lips were in a snarl, but he refused to look at me, no matter how much I looked at his face.

“I make true to all my threats, pretty girl.” His eyes met mine, his hardened almost like a shield over what he was truly feeling. Turning the Mitchell I was getting to know into a complete stranger. “Today’s the day you’re going to regret meeting me.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but the sound of the front door being kicked in caused my words to die on my lips. The sound of heavy footfalls filled the house as five men wearing leather vests flew into the living area, armed with guns pointed in every direction.

“Everybody get on the fucking ground, now!”

Those words boomed over the music as four men with guns pointing in all directions made their way into the living area. Fearing for my life, I did as I was asked, watching as the other group cried but did what they were told. I looked over my shoulder, watching as Mitchell didn’t comply. I was about to yell at him to get down, but he stood and walked over to the four giant men now standing in the center of the living room.

A large, Viking-looking man held a leather vest in his hands, handing it over to Mitchell. He put it on immediately, sighing satisfactorily. “Good to be back in this thing; felt naked without it.”

He turned to us, his tag reading VP. Vice President. I felt the back of my eyes burn, my heart sinking into my stomach as I willed Mitchell to look at me, to give me some hope that everything would be okay. But he refused to do so. The men in front of us stood in unity, looking at us with pure disgust. They were all large, with broad shoulders and rippling physiques. Trembling with fear, I managed to look up, reading the patches on one of the men’s back.

The Unforgiven Souls MC.

“I betcha you’re wondering who we are,” the one in the middle said as he approached. When he walked close enough, I read the patch above his heart.

President.

Someone elected to rule. But what did he rule? And what did Mitchell have to do with it?

The rest of his appearance made me shiver. He looked as menacing as the power he radiated, his steel-colored eyes shining with hostility. He was clearly older than the men around him, his slicked-back hair the same color as his unkempt beard, black with silver peppered in. While he was tall, he wasn’t as big as the other men around him, yet he exuded more power than any of them, Mitchell included.

“I’m Darrell, President of The Unforgiven Souls MC.” He cocked his gun with a sinister grin to match his crazed eyes, pointing it right at our group. “And today, you’re going to be saved.”

I froze, knowing what that meant. Being saved was usually a good thing—

But I knew it meant we were going to die.

CHAPTER 9

Nyla

A  bullet fired, effectively stopping the music thumping around the room as it hit the Bluetooth speaker, causing everyone to scream. That didn’t draw my focus off the scary men in the center of the room. Their stares would forever be ingrained into the nightmares I was sure to have from this. If I even lived through this.

“Shut the fuck up,” the president of the group said. His features were rigid, his dark eyes narrowed, and he scowled as he looked at the twelve in front of him in disgust. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me. “You. Get up and move over here. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Get me?”

Unable to control the tremors in my legs, I stood, hoping I didn’t trip under the immense pressure I was under. I kept my hands up for good measure as tears slid down my cheeks when the fear overtook every nerve in my body. When I reached the group, I proceeded to lie flat on my stomach, watching as the leader nodded before my eyes slipped over to Mitchell, who was looking at me. Only, there wasn’t the softness and affection I grew accustomed to before tonight.

No, he looked at me like he hated me; the usual spark in his mossy eyes when he saw me was lifeless. Like the past few weeks meant absolutely nothing to him.

My tears fell faster, the combination of fear and anxiety a deadly combo when trying to conceal your emotions. I swallowed heavily, trying to rein my emotions in, but it was a pitiful attempt when all I could think of was why? Why did Mitchell do this?

He played me hook, line, and sinker and, like a naïve fool, I fell for his Southern charm and dimpled smile. The affection I felt for him drained from me instantly, fear of him taking its place as he made sure to keep his eyes locked on me, gauging my reaction of him now. If he decided I could live, I’d show him just how quickly my feelings changed for him…

Because it was apparent he never felt anything for me.

Stupid, stupid heart of mine.

The man with the president patch looked me in the eyes, studying me before turning his attention back to Mitchell. “Is anyone else here, Grim?”

Mitchell’s—or Grim, I guess—hateful gaze was still locked on mine as his words sparked alarms through my body. “Two girls. Last room on the right. Blond one’s deaf.”

A man with more tattoos than clear skin walked out of their formation, heading in that direction. I willed my friends’ screams out of my mind as I heard the door get kicked in. I turned my head, watching as the man pointed a gun at their backs while they walked with their hands up, visibly shaking with fear.

“Get down on the ground. Don’t talk. Don’t move.” Oakley laid down directly next to me and pressed her body into mine, while Joslyn did the same to her. I could feel her shaking, or maybe that was me?

“That everyone?” Mitchell nodded, surveying my friends before turning his gaze to Darrell. “Good.”

The one who kicked open the door spoke. “We caught the one who tried to pull a fast one on us and leave early. He had a nice shade of purple on his neck. You fuck him up, Grim?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at me, though there was no remorse in his eyes. “Fucker’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”

It dawned on me why Mitchell wouldn’t let us leave earlier—they had this whole place surrounded. We were caught in their trap the minute we pulled into the driveway.

Mitchell had planned this.

The dread was suffocating, enhanced by their scrutinizing gazes. He looked at the fifteen of us, grinning like he was getting off on our fear.

My gaze flicked to each man, then attempted to read each patch, or patches on some of them, but all I kept circling back to was The Unforgiven Souls MC.

Were they some kind of motorcycle gang?

“W-what do you—”

Bang.

Hysterical wails rang throughout the room as the small hole in the carpet smoked from the bullet in front of the person who spoke up. With the barrel still smoking, Darrell promised, “Next time I won’t miss.”

“P-please don’t hurt us,” one of the girls whimpered.

A hearty laugh erupted from Darrell. “Pathetic. Don’t want to be hurt, but are fine hurting others. I figured you’d have some shame, but I guess not.”

“Fuck you. We don’t know who you’re talking about,” someone spat stupidly at the large men in front of us.

“You’re not The Cardinal Bloods?” Mitchell questioned, his face impassive as he cocked his head, and Darrell walked toward the idiot who ran his mouth. “You’re not the ones who were knowingly selling faulty drugs to minors, that are killing them in the name of the Flock?”

My blood went cold as I glanced at the group, finding my best friend’s identical twin sister among them. Who the hell was Jordyn involved with?

“We just supply what he tells us. He told us Mitchell was here to cut a deal about a shipment,” someone else in the group stammered. “We know nothing else besides that.”

“Who’s he?” When the man didn’t answer, Darrell crouched and grabbed a fistful of the man’s dreads. “Who. Is. He.” Again, he didn’t answer. The cracking of bone sounded as Darrell slammed the unsuspecting man’s face into the ground, effectively breaking his nose. When he brought the man’s face to his level again, seeing his now-crooked nose gushing blood, Darrell smirked. “Wanna answer me now?”

Instead of a worded reply, the man decided to spit in Darrell’s face.

The room went deathly still as Darrell wiped the watery blood from the bridge of his nose and onto the floor. Without a word, he stood and motioned for the largest man in the room with a tilt of a head. The man, whose face I couldn’t see since it was covered by his hood—but I saw his arm looked like it had been badly burned—walked over, grabbed this man by his dreads, and dragged him to the center of the room for everyone to see. Our breaths stilled as Darrell approached, aiming a gun right at the man’s head.

Bang!

Blood and viscera sprayed as terrified cries filled the room.

They just killed somebody. Right in front of us. Without question, without reason, without remorse.

Without the worry of witnesses…

I couldn’t take my eyes off his lifeless body, or the blood flowing like a river out of the large gash in his head. I felt nauseous, and I willed the contents to stay down in fear I would be like hit if I puked. Tears welled in my eyes before they spilled over the edge. My eyes still wouldn’t leave the now-dead man who was alive just seconds before.

I willed my eyes to Mitchell, whose eyes were still shielded with masked emotion, gauging my reaction. I felt my body go cold as sweat pooled, and I was afraid I was going into shock.

I look over at Joslyn, who had her face planted on the floor while Oakley was a ghastly pale, unable to tear her eyes from the horror in front of us. She swallowed, willing herself not to get sick before slamming her eyes closed, mouth moving in a silent prayer.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Darrell acted like he just didn’t murder someone, but he couldn’t distract enough to take attention away from the two men behind him, dragging the deceased body across the floor, leaving a bloody trail as they dragged him toward the back of the house. “We’re gonna go on a little walk. You’re gonna answer all our questions—and you won’t be allowed to leave until you do—but if you don’t…” He paused, the sinister grin returning. “Well, there’s a body bag with your name on it.”

More cries sounded, making the maniac in front of us laugh at our fear. “Grim, you take the girls you came with to the clubhouse. We’ll deal with the rest.” He turned to us, his words laced with finality. “Stand up. Try anything, and you’ll be shot on the spot.”

I watched as Jordyn and her friends stood, fear evident on their faces. The two who dragged the dead man out back returned to the room, and Darrell turned to them. “All taken care of?”

“Yeah, Prez,” the tanned man with the monstrous amount of tattoos said, the evil smile on his face rivaling Darrell’s. “We got him all set for V when he gets here.”

“He’s just gonna hate he’s not alive.” Darrell sighed. “Ain’t gonna hear the end of that.”

“He’ll get over it,” the man replied, eyeing us with a sardonic grin. “Look at all the new toys we’re bringing him.”

Oakley sobbed next to me, hugging Joslyn tightly. Joslyn didn’t understand what was going on, though her eyes were full of fear as she looked at me frantically, wanting answers. Even through shaky movements, I started to sign to her.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I froze at the gravelly voice, one that wasn’t Mitchell’s or Darrell’s. I turned around, seeing the man who dragged the guy for Darrell to shoot. I still couldn’t see his face, the hood hiding most of it, though I saw what looked like skin wrinkled from burns at the tip of his chin. The sweatshirt he was wearing had the sleeves cut off, exposing his muscular biceps—along with the wrinkled skin from shoulder to hand on his left arm. “She’s deaf,” I rambled hysterically. “She doesn’t have her hearing aids in, so I was just explaining to her what was happening. I promise.”

I didn’t think he was looking at me, but I couldn’t tell since his eyes were hidden beneath the shadows of his hood. The angle of his head seemed like he was staring at Joslyn, who was shaking uncontrollably and sobbing in Oakley’s embrace. Oakley was trembling with fear, too, her jade eyes closed, willing this whole situation to be a nightmare.

“She’s telling the truth.” The voice that’s haunted my dreams in a good way the past few weeks sounded closer. He looked at the cloaked man, who tilted his head, indicating that he was listening. “Let’s get them to the clubhouse.”

“Clubhouse?” I questioned.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Mitchell reached for me, but when he touched my skin, it was a weird icy contrast to the heat he made me feel just minutes earlier.

I wrenched away from him, giving him my best hateful look. “Don’t touch me.”

His smirk was vile. “I already did, pretty girl. Don’t forget who’s come is dripping between your legs.”

I flushed, berating myself. The larger man, whose face was hidden behind his sweatshirt, stood behind Joslyn and Oakley. Joslyn couldn’t hear what was going on, but when she turned and saw the man over a foot taller than her, she paled, grabbing onto Oakley like a lifeline as she curled herself into our scared best friend, who was trying her best to be strong but faltering by the second.

“Let’s get goin’,” Mitchell said as we made our way toward our certain deaths, my mind wracked with every emotion imaginable.

Remorse for myself for trusting him.

Guilt that my actions had gotten my best friends involved.

If I made it out of this alive, I was going to go back to being the invisible girl I was raised as. Just going through the motions of life, doing everything Dad wanted me to do. He warned me not to get involved with Mitchell… If only I had just listened to him…

It would certainly hurt immensely less than this did.

I figured wherever we went, it would be by car, not trekking through a dark wooded area. I briefly thought about running, but knew I had a better chance of survival with these monsters than with the unknown wildlife out there. With the heavily wooded area, I couldn’t discount the possibility of running into a cougar or a coyote, never mind the various snakes and spiders that could be lurking in the undergrowth.

“Tell Joslyn to put her hearing aids in,” Mitchell commanded, making Oakley tap on her. The lighting was faint, so instead of signing, Oakley reached into Joslyn’s bag to pull her case out. Joslyn shakily put them back in her ears. “You hear me, Joslyn?”

“Y-yes, sir.” She sounded as scared as the rest of us were.

“Good. We’re goin’ to the clubhouse. You answer our questions, and you’ll be good to go in a few days. Get me?”

“I thought you were going to kill us.” My question sounded more like mockery.

“If you cooperate and you’re not involved with the Bloods, then we won’t.” He looked back at me, his eyes still lacking any emotion. “But if we find out you are? Well, you’ll make the ground prettier with your blood staining it.”

The imagery was more than unnerving, especially since I knew Mitchell was serious. Mitchell had shown me before how dangerous he could be, and that was when he was still hiding his true self from me. But now… now that I saw who he really was… The threat of death was real, and the man I thought would save me from any danger was the cause.

He really is a monster.

“You’re going to kill my sister?” Joslyn’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Probably.” Mitchell’s response was as careless as it was heartless. “Solely depends on her and her cooperation, but I’ve been scouting your sister for months now. Her death wouldn’t be anything more than squishing a bug.”

“That’s my sister!” Joslyn’s outburst made everyone stop, fearful for what they’d do to her. She was breathing heavily, face red and eyes sharp. “Her death would mean something to me!”

“Make sure to tell her that when she tells you how much she hates you the next time you see her.” A sardonic grin spread on his lips. “If there is a next time.”

“How could you be so cruel!” I snapped at him when Joslyn broke into heart-wrenching sobs. “Where’s the Mitchell who showed compassion? Showed that he cared?”

“What you want and what you get are two very different things.” His eyes were akin to evil, the feeling in them making me shiver. “That Mitchell you knew doesn’t exist. This is the real me, pretty girl. Sorry to disappoint.”

I wished I discovered sooner that what I wanted and what I wanted him to be were two different things. This Mitchell, this monster, was who he always was. I was just too blind and too forgiving at the beginning of our relationship to actually see it. He laid the trap out for me, telling me all the right things until it was too late to escape.

If only I realized it sooner, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.

We continued our walk on the trail, the ominous feeling around us from the darkness of the sky and the impending doom of the situation. It was quiet except for the crickets and frogs, until Mitchell spoke up again, commanding as ever.

“Give me your phones, now.”

“I don’t have mine.” Joslyn told him, her voice hoarse from crying. “Mine’s in the bathroom of that house.”

“We’ll do a thorough check, so you better hope you’re not lying.” Mitchell turned to us. “Nyla? Oakley?”

We begrudgingly handed our phones over to him, watching as he crushed Oakley’s in one hand while pocketing mine. “Why did you crush her phone?”

“She’s got no one who’s gonna track it, so she can get a new one if we let her out.” God, I hated this new version of Mitchell. “Keeping yours because of your batshit-crazy dad. Don’t need him snooping around.”

“Dad knew.” Realization hit me so hard, I was surprised I remained upright. “He knew you guys did this to people.”

“He only knows what we want him to know.” There was no guilt in his voice. “No more questions until we get to the clubhouse. We’re almost there, and until then? Shut it.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to restrain myself from snapping at him, afraid of the backlash it would cause. Just like Mitchell wanted, the rest of the walk was in silence, the darkness of the night settling into my heart. The opening of trees at the end of the trail showed a large warehouse. It looked like a prison, just missing the bars on the windows. It already had the large gate with heavy barbed wire on the top of it.

“What is this, Alcatraz?” I muttered under my breath as our unwilling group stopped at the gates, watching as Mitchell put in a code he made sure to keep hidden. The gate opening signified a lot of things, usually as a taste of freedom…

But for the three of us, it was our first taste of Hell.

The yard looked more like a graveyard, spacious with absolutely nothing besides a shed and a patio area with chairs lined up and beer bottles littered all over the concrete. The doors were as black as night, and I thought that was intentional to ward whatever enemies Mitchell and his brothers had from getting inside.

In old Mitchell fashion, he opened the door, waiting for us to get inside before shutting it, making sure we heard the lock engage. We were officially trapped. This was their world, and we were their prisoners.

Inside was vastly different than the yard. The room was huge, filled with pool tables, air hockey tables, couches, flat screen TVs, and a full bar along the back wall. The liquor they had was all top-shelf, just like everything else in the room. It screamed ‘we have money,’ and with money comes power—and it obviously went to their heads.

The Viking-sized man with auburn hair walked toward us. His patch just read Member, not VP like Mitchell’s or President like Darrell’s. “Prez said to take them into the interrogation room; he’ll be there when he’s done getting the others settled in the basement.”

I gulped. He’s locking them in the basement?

He nodded, not concerned with the others’ living arrangements, before he turned to us. “Follow me.”

We walked across the large room that led to a hallway, and at the very end of the hallway, he turned to the left and opened a door. It was a smaller room, with only a table surrounded by chairs and mirrors. The man with his hood rested against the wall, his face still shadowed.

The door shutting behind us sounded like finality, but I was hoping the loud noise would wake me up from whatever nightmare I’d gotten sucked into. The small space felt more enclosed with the amount of people in it, mixed with the impending doom I felt.

“You stayin’ for the questioning, Sarge?” Mitchell looked at the man with the hood. At least now I could put a name to his… body. All he did was grunt in return.

“Sit down; Prez will be here soon.” His voice sent an arrow through my heart, much colder than it had been. This was who Mitchell really was; he wasn’t the man who played me like the fool I was. He told me what would happen if I didn’t stay away from him, but still, I played with fire.

And now I was going to get burned.

We settled in the cold metal chairs, and true to his word, Darrell came in shortly after. He still looked as menacing as he did at Hellbound; if anything, he looked more in control here. He was the puppet master, and we were his toys. He held the strings to our future with just one bad decision. His footsteps bounced off the walls, his authority showing with each step. He twisted the chair around, resting his crossed arms against the top. It made him look even more intimidating, and I gulped as a cold sweat threatened to form on my brow.

The silence was deafening; its sole purpose served to put fear in us—which it was doing a very good job at doing.

“If the three of you are truthful with your answers, and we know you’re not bull shittin’ us, we’ll consider your freedom.” Eyes turning to Joslyn, he got straight to the point. “You and your sister close?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“You know anything about her friends?” Joslyn was surprisingly silent at his question, her head tilted down, her hands fisting the material of her skirt. “It’d be in your best interest to tell us the truth, Joslyn. It could be the matter of life and death for you.”

She trembled as tears slipped from her eyes. She glanced over at Oakley and me, her voice a mere whisper. “P-please don’t make me say it in front of them.”

“Who? Us? Or your friends, who think you’re an angel incarnate?”

I had to forcibly stop the refute that threatened to release. I knew we were at the mercy of these men, but that didn’t mean I had to like the way they treated us while we were trapped here. A cold sweat began to bead on my forehead at the memory of what they did to that man at the party. The blood, the screams, the dead body—

I had to calm my breathing, which was proving difficult as the images plagued my mind. If they weren’t scared to kill someone in front of an audience, then there was no limit to what they would do to us sealed behind a steel door. “Give us somethin’ at least.” Mitchell was adamant, and when she didn’t answer, he sighed. “If not, we’ll find out from her sister. Word on the street is she doesn’t care what happens to ya. So I’m sure she’ll have no problem ratting you out if you do know something.”

“They come over to our house a lot.” Her admittance was almost a whisper. “When I know they’re there, I lock myself in my room.”

“They ever try to bother you?”

She shrugged. “If they do, I can’t hear them. I take my hearing aids out when they come over so I can pretend they’re not there.”

“Ever see anything you weren’t supposed to?” Again, she was silent, debate warring in her eyes before she relented—probably because if they found out, there was no doubt they would kill her. Her hesitance told them that there was something though, so she had no choice but to tell them, regardless of the consequences.

“I walked out one night for a drink, not realizing they were there, and I saw,” she began to tremble, “men fighting, blood…” Her skin paled, and I was afraid she was going to pass out. “So much blood.”

“Sounds like the other info we got. Tryin’ to fight their way into the organization, only the toughest survive. You ever part of those fights?” He rubbed his unkempt beard as she shook her head. “You just stood to the side then, watching them beat each other to death?”

A guilt-filled sob escaped her throat. I couldn’t even imagine walking into a scene like that. I know she told me that when Jordyn’s friends were over, she took her hearing aids out so she could pretend they weren’t there. I assumed what they were doing there was bad, but a fighting ring was something no one should witness, let along experience.

“Not like you could do much.” Darrell looked down on her. “You’re what? Hundred-ten pounds, soaking wet with rocks in your pocket?”

“Shut the fuck up, Prez.” Sarge promised certain death with the tone of his voice. It was the first time he spoke since Hellbound.

Darrell’s eyes widened slightly, and if you weren’t looking at him closely, you would’ve missed his surprise. “You really gonna talk to me like that, brother? Forget who I am all the sudden?”

“No,” he snapped. “Forget who I am? Hex ain’t here to sedate me if you keep it up.”

Sedate him?

Darrell rubbed his rugged beard, seemingly considering his words. “Interesting reaction you’re havin’, brother.” The giant man didn’t answer, making Darrell turn his sights on Oakley, who jumped in her chair when he did. “And who are you?”

“A nobody.” She curled into herself, attempting to make herself as small as possible as she prayed for this hellish night to end.

His laugh was condescending. “Can’t be a nobody if Grim invited you to the party. Let’s try this again. Who are you?”

“Nyla’s roommate. My mom owns the flower shop Nyla and Joslyn work at.”

“That’s better.” His praise was patronizing. “I don’t think you have anything to do with this, just picked the wrong friends.” He shook his head mockingly. “Just hate when that happens.”

She looked down at her lap, looking like she wanted to say something, but Oakley remained silent. I knew she didn’t regret us, but talking back to him could make things way worse for us. I doubted she would talk back to him anyway, since she was ruled by her fear of people—men specifically.

“And you.” He laughed when he turned to me, riling up my anger. “You got bad taste in men, sweetheart.”

“That’s an understatement,” I gritted through my teeth, and the bastards across the table found it amusing. Lust may be a powerful emotion, but so was anger, and I was so angry, I wanted to reach across the table and knock the air out of their lungs so they couldn’t laugh at the pain they were causing us. My eyes met Mitchell’s, hopefully for the last time. I did my best to pour all the betrayal I felt by his actions into one look. “Biggest mistake of my life.”

The shield he had over his eyes broke slightly, a brief flash of the remorse I’d seen in the car earlier today appeared before it disappeared. I didn’t care if he felt sorry for his actions if we made it out alive.

God, I trusted him. I went against my dad for him, with no idea what will happen between me and Dad because of him. I gave him all my firsts… my first date, first kiss, first… everything. And now, if we survived, I would never be the same because of him.

I hate you, Mitchell.

Darrell’s attention was back on Joslyn. “You really deaf?”

She hated when someone pointed out her disability, but the fear she was feeling was beyond the annoyance she would’ve usually felt. “Yes, sir. Been deaf since I was a few weeks old. I can only hear with my hearing aids in.”

He sucked his teeth as he regarded her. “So, you’re useless to us.”

She deflated at his cruel words, hating having her condition thrown back in her face. “Yes,” she whispered as she hung her head.

He nodded, done with his assessment. He returned his attention to us.

I shot a glare at Mitchell, whose eyes never strayed from me during this whole conversation. “Why don’t you just kill us?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Darrell’s laugh was cynical. “You’re not in the position to ask us questions, darlin’. Just a few more things and you’re free to go, for now…” He pointedly looked between Oakley and me. “Has Jordyn told you two anything?”

Oakley vehemently shook her head as I answered, “No. We avoid her when we can. We don’t exactly get along.”

“Your judge of character seems to be sound.”

I look over to Mitchell, sneering. “It’s not.”

Mitchell narrowed his eyes at me, ignoring my lashing. “How did y’all meet?”

“Oakley’s mom owns Poppy Oak’s. Joslyn’s the manager, and I’m just working there until I graduate from nursing school.”

“Interesting,” Darrell countered. “So, you’re pretty smart, huh?”

I shrugged, not knowing where he was going to go with this. “I guess.”

“Too bad you weren’t smart enough to stay away from Grim.” I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw shook.

Darrell began to stand from his chair when Joslyn asked, “What’s going to happen to my sister?”

Darrell paused. “She’s going to get what she deserves.”

“S-she’s a good person. She’s just lost.”

“It’s admirable to stick up to her, even though I can tell she’s caused you a lot of pain.” I was shocked when his tone softened. Maybe he realized Joslyn was a victim in this situation? “But your sister has willingly caused others a lot of pain as well.”

She stayed silent. I could tell her mind was swirling by the range of emotions swimming through her eyes. He fully stood. “What you saw at the house? It never happened.”

“You murdered someone right in front of us.” My voice shook. “We just can’t forget that.”

“Even if I told you that man drugged and killed a family of four because their thirteen-year-old son refused to join the Bloods?” His eyebrow raised, challenging me to disagree.

My stomach churned at that information, my mouth watering, trying to keep the nausea down. What could you say to that? And worse… those people were apparently Jordyn’s friends, friends who went to Joslyn’s apartment frequently… If they did that to a kid, what could they have done to her? “Oh my God…”

“No God was there to save them,” he returned. “So we played God for him.”

“Who are you guys?” I whispered.

This made his evil grin return. “My brothers and I all have sins too great where our souls can’t be forgiven. For atonement, we eliminate other souls who cause anguish for others before it’s too late for them.”

My voice shuttered with nerves. “So you think you’re God?”

“I have more in common with Lucifer, my dear,” he corrected, not making me feel better. If anything, it made me even more fearful of this crazy bastard.

“So, you’re murderers.”

“I prefer the term saviors.” The deranged laugh that came out of his throat made me shiver. “We make this town a better place for our family.” He stood, clearly done with this conversation. “You’ll be able to leave on Sunday once we think of what to do with you three. You won’t speak a word of this to anybody. And if you do?” His crazed smile returned. “Then we’ll just save you, too.”

He shut the door behind him, leaving behind the fear he put in myself and my two friends. Not to mention two of his ‘brothers,’ who, with clenched fists, didn’t watch their leader leave, instead their heads directed at us to see what we would do next. But what could we do? We were stuck here, overpowered by them.

They could do whatever they wanted to us, and we just had to accept it.

Mitchell stood from his chair. “We have a room for you guys to stay in. We’ll take you there.”

Tonight’s events left my energy zapped. Mindlessly, I stood, following Mitchell to the door. I peeked behind me at my friends; Oakley was behind me, but Joslyn was still sitting in her seat with Sarge residing in front of her. I willed Joslyn to follow, not wanting her to be alone with that brute of a man. Finally, she got the strength to stand. This situation was excruciating for all of us, but she had emotional ties to whatever these monsters were doing, even if she wasn’t directly involved.

There was a screech on the floor before Joslyn suddenly fell over. Instinctively, I jumped toward her, even though I was too far away, but Sarge was there in an instant, keeping her upright in his arms. Her small hands were on his scarred arm, but she didn’t seem to mind the roughness of his skin.

“You okay?”

I watched her look up at him, and despite her wounded expression, she attempted to smile at him. It was a way she guarded how she was truly feeling. “Yeah, thank you.”

He nodded as he retracted his touch as she stood straight, walking away from him. His head remained in her direction the whole time as she joined us. I rushed to her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She nodded, her lip quivering like she was about to lose it. I knew the next time she spoke, the floodgates would break. She was trying so hard to stay strong. I put my arm around her, following Mitchell, who had his eyes on me the entire time, out the door. He led us across the main room and into the adjacent hall, opening a room with four beds and an attached bathroom.

“A brother will be stationed outside your room,” Mitchell explained. “If you need anything, just knock and he’ll come in.”

I walked through the door, Mitchell giving me one last longing look before shutting the door behind him. The silence warped around the room.

“I’m so sorry.” I sucked in a breath, looking at Joslyn, who was hugging herself, my voice devoid of any type of emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Jos.” I ran to hug her, and she flinched slightly under my touch before returning my embrace, shaking in my arms. “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for the actions of others.”

“But—” Her voice broke on a sob.

“No buts.” I shook my head. “This was Jordyn’s fault, and this psycho club’s fault.” And my fault. “We just have to endure whatever bullshit they decide to throw at us next. This isn’t your fault, honey.”

“But it is,” she whispered hysterically, and I thought her mind might’ve actually shattered. “It is.”

“We never have to relive today again.” I tried my best to comfort her, but Oakley’s true pessimistic words brought the dark clouds again.

“Just the memories of it,” Oakley’s whisper was barely audible next to me. “Reliving it is worse than experiencing it. You experience it once, but you relive it every day.”

Oakley’s words cut deep into my soul. I knew when we got out, this would be just another traumatic wound that would never fully close.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” I whispered to Oakley, who looked at me confused. “You said he could be luring me into something dangerous, and I went anyway, thinking it could never happen to me. I’m sorry.” Another sob escaped. “I’m so sorry.”

A bemused expression softened her features. “This isn’t your fault, Nyla.”

We all felt at blame for this mess and tonight, we would grieve the unfortunate decisions that led us to this moment. Our cries filled the room, the events of tonight finally catching up with us.

We’d never be the same again.

CHAPTER 10

Grim

O nce I shut the door to the girls’ room, I slammed my fist into the wall, welcoming the stinging pain in my knuckles to the constricting feeling in my chest. I pulled my fist back, leaving behind a hole in the dry wall and my knuckles slightly bleeding from the impact.

You deserve more pain. Think about all the pain you’ve caused everyone… You don’t deserve any happiness or anything good in your life. All you deserve is torture and misery until you can’t take it anymore and you remove yourself from this planet.

I did. Looking at Nyla, the pain spread to the corners of my body I didn’t know I had anymore, throbbing with what felt like guilt. But I couldn’t feel that; I couldn’t feel guilty. This needed to be done.

For her sake and mine.

“Brother,” Sarge said from beside me. I turned to look at the big bastard. He didn’t talk much as he much rather used his fists. He kept his face hidden; I wasn’t sure what he hid beneath the hood of his cutoff, but I guessed that the charred skin on his left side traveled to more than just his arm.

He never let anyone touch him or see him besides the cutoff sleeves of his hoodie and the sliver of his chin the shadow of his hood didn’t hide. You could see the discolored, wrinkled skin. Not many people knew what was hidden underneath the darkness, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that my brother was in some kind of fire

“What?” I spat at him, my nerves on edge. Tonight couldn’t have gone any worse than how it did for me. The first part of our mission of getting some of the Cardinal Bloods off the streets was a success, and we made the streets a safer place for everyone.

But this cost me Nyla—a price I wasn’t willing to pay, but had to. For the sake of my brothers, the city of Diamond Ridge…

All the innocent people caught in their unsuspecting webs.

“Prez won’t touch them.”

Our president, Darrell, or Prez, as we called him, was a great man. Great leader, even though he’d cut your throat and hug you in the same moment. He was a father figure to all of us in the club since the majority of us grew up with absentee or not-so-pleasant sperm donors. He made this club fifteen years ago, handpicking the members personally. In most clubs, people are welcomed to join if they pass the prospecting period, but not our club. Our club was filled with misfits who came from all walks of life, but we all had one thing in common.

We’ve all done something God won’t forgive us for.

For atonement, we did God’s work, saving others from making the grave sins we’ve committed. In the end, we could only hope to be saved once our purpose was fulfilled.

I was content with that. Once I found the man who took my mother and sister’s last breath, I was going to be saved. What a beautiful day that would be. It was all I’ve looked forward to for years… at least, until a few weeks ago when something unexpected happened.

Nyla.

She was an unexpected pleasure I didn’t deserve in my life. One I craved, but knew I shouldn’t have. Like the apple in the Garden of Eden, she was a temptation too great for me to ignore.

My lines began to blur at her involuntary seduction. Her soul was too beautiful, too trusting. And that undeserved trust got her paths crossed with more monsters than just me. Every one of my brothers would be getting their own isolation chamber in Hell alongside me.

The day I met her in the graveyard, ungracefully shoving her umbrella over my head to shield this undeserving soul from the elements? It was the most… human gesture someone’s done for me in years. I was used to manipulation, acts of promise for something I would never get in return.

Truthfully, I didn’t think anything of her at first, besides some mindless flirting, but that was until I saw her friends pick her up.

I couldn’t help my curiosity, running to my bike and following from a safe distance. I never expected that one of her friends in the car was Jordyn, a member of the Cardinal Bloods who had been under our radar for months. My few interactions with her were nothing short of her trying to sleep with me, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her because I had a feeling that’s what the gang conditioned her and many other women to do. The things she’s done to help the Bloods do…

It was the stuff of fuckin’ nightmares.

I reported it back to Darrell, who got Knight to do some research on Poppy Oak’s. Hacking into the employee files, we never expected her to have a twin sister named Joslyn. If I had a better look at Joslyn when she walked into the shop, I would’ve instantly seen the physical differences.

A plan was made to see if Jordyn told her sister anything. Sisters usually tell each other everything, right? We had no idea that Jordyn loathed Joslyn, but we had to make sure Joslyn didn’t overhear any information about the gang. We didn’t hurt children and women usually, but if a woman was hurting others, then we didn’t discriminate. Havin’ a pussy didn’t make you immune to the consequences of your actions.

The plan to seduce Joslyn was between Tyrant and me since, according to others, we were manipulative bastards. I knew I was, but Tyrant was the charming one of the brothers, luring people into our trap with those bright blue eyes and tattoos women went crazy over. But the thought of him going into the shop and being his cunning self with Nyla—her staring at his tattoos like she did with mine—made me want to kill him. So, instead of him, I pulled rank and told my brothers I would be doing the mission myself, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by them.

I shouldn’t have done what I did, but the temptation of Nyla was too great. Now, instead of the warmth in my chest from her smiles, I felt the heaviness from her cries.

“He was just trying to scare them into not talking, but I think they’re already at that point. I don’t think they’re involved, but I’ve been wrong before.” For their sake, I hope they weren’t. Telling Nyla I would paint the ground with her blood if she was lying gutted me—and I was glad I didn’t see her reaction. I don’t think I could stomach the way I was causing the necessary rift between us.

This whole situation would be easier if she just hated me. She wouldn’t miss me when my revenge was carried out—and I would make sure she was safe until my dying breath.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he growled at me.

“Who?” I blinked. This fucker got worked up over every little thing. “Joslyn?”

I knew he was. His uncanny behavior and protectiveness of her in the briefing room told me it was, I just wanted to hear the fucker admit it. Instead of answering me, though, he turned on his heels and stomped away. I felt slight sympathy for Joslyn catching Sarge’s attention—that was one deranged brother.

I followed him in silence down to our Church room, where he would debrief us about the information he got from some of the Cardinal Bloods. As we walked into the room, we saw the majority of the brothers in there already, as well as Prez. I took my usual seat beside him, looking around. “Where’s V?”

“He should be here any minute. He thought he was gonna go to the house for cleanup,” Tyrant, our Sergeant in Arms, said from the chair beside me. “He’s not happy he has to come here first.”

Knight, Tyrant’s best friend, snorted from his position at the other side of the table. “When’s that bastard happy about anything?”

That’s an understatement. V, our Enforcer, was the most heartless bastard I’ve ever come across. He had two emotions, devoid or psycho, and there was no in between. I wasn’t sure where Prez found him, but if I had to take a guess, it was from an asylum. He killed like it was an art to him. The way he looked was terrifying, and he could get information out of people better than anyone else in the club.

The door opened and in walked V. Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear. His midnight eyes scanned the room before he sat in his chair in the back corner of the room. His long hair was in its usual bun, showing the black surgical mask he always wore. His beloved baseball bat he dubbed ‘Friend’—and truthfully, I thought was his only friend—was caked in dried blood and by his side.

Only Darrell knew what sat beneath that mask, knowing the secret that was V. But the fucker never shared, only made our enemies scream in fake remorse to save themselves.

I scanned the room; it was part of my job to make sure all our members were accounted for during church. Our club was small, but loyal. We all had a common mission.

Atonement for the horrible things we’ve done in life. We knew we’d never reach it, but we’re going to die trying.

I counted Tyrant, Knight, and Husk in their usual row. Tyrant was saying the first dumb thing that could come out of his mouth, while Knight laughed at anything he did. Those two could get a nun in trouble.

Tyrant glacier-colored eyes lit up as he laughed, the black curly hair of his faux hawk bouncing with whatever stupid joke he just said. His dark skin was covered in colorful tattoos, which emphasized his larger than life personality. He had various piercings in his face, ears, and I wish I didn’t know this, but nipples and cock, too. What could I say? He shared shit we didn’t care about when he got drunk. Despite the light he tried to pass on to others, he was hiding something sinister beneath the surface. You flipped that switch? Your light went out, permanently. It was a side he didn’t show often, but when he did, I stood out of the way of the carnage.

Knight was Tyrant’s best friend, littered with the same piercings and tattoos as his friend. His brown hair, that matched the color of his eyes, was shaved at the sides and neatly trimmed at the top in a temple fade style. He was harder to read, but was still one of the happiest-go-lucky fuckers in this club. Scratch that, they were the only two in this club. Knight’s light personality dimmed when he was alone, or whenever Victoria was around. Didn’t know what happened between the two of them, but whatever it was made the two of them not able to be around one another. I asked Victoria about it, and she had no idea why Knight didn’t want anything to do with her—they’ve never fucked and she’d never met him prior to joining us. Which, with the way Victoria was the sunshine of our club, seeing her rain on one person without reason was fuckin’ weird.

Their sins were their business, though; we had to bear the cross of ours and the weight was already suffocating.

Husk, as always, had his elbows on the table, hands folded, his long auburn hair splaying over his shoulders as he was praying for a miracle to happen. It’s been three years, and I hoped his miracle would come true soon. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. Seeing what he became after the incident… our once full of life brother became a shell of himself.

Sarge was at the other end of the table, arms crossed. Brother didn’t like rooms where he wasn’t the only one in it. I wasn’t sure if it was a PTSD thing or if he was an asshole before the army, but he made sure there was enough space between him and the brothers. I wasn’t even sure if he listened to our meetings; I couldn’t see his eyes to tell. Either way, he may be ‘fists first, don’t give a fuck about the thoughts even later,’ but he was a loyal brother. All brothers in the club were.

Looking at the back wall, our two deranged brothers, V and Hex, sat in chairs in separate corners. They sat separated for a reason. One, if a fight broke out between us, they didn’t care enough to put a stop to it or even get in the middle of it. Two, they were the last in, first out. V, knowing he had toys waiting for him at Hellbound and in the basement, was bouncing his leg up and down in anticipation to get to them. He was already pissed one was dead, and another one might’ve been since on the walk over here he tried to escape and fell headfirst into a ravine with rocks at the bottom. We pulled him out, but there was no telling if Hex could save him. Personally, I didn’t think he cared if he saved him or not. I didn’t want to keep him waiting long, though; who knew when the psycho switch in him was going to flip?

And if it flipped in here… well, that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

And Hex? Our doctor marched to the beat of his own drum. His short black hair was styled in a Ceaser-style cut, and his black eyes were mysterious with fuck-all emotion. Sometimes it was hard to tell why he agreed to join, but I guess he needed us to get his violence quota, and we needed him when we got roughed up, which was a lot. He was excellent at getting information like V was, but V refused to be around sharp objects. Whenever he saw one, his eyes would dilate, and his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. Usually, it was in fight-mode.

Heartstrings tugging, my eyes went to the two chairs that will forever remain empty, with cuts laying over the backs in memoriam. I missed my damn brothers. God didn’t owe me any favors, but I always prayed that one of them would come back…

The other one never would.

No one sat in those chairs since they left, and no one ever will.

“What about Law?” I finished going over who was here, though I noticed our club lawyer wasn’t in the meeting—and his presence for meetings like this was important.

“He’s still on a run. The Savage Disciples ran into trouble, and Law said he’d help them for a marker for our club. And since he’s been too busy with them, he doesn’t know much about what’s happened over the past few weeks. He’ll be debriefed when he gets back on Sunday,” Prez answered.

I nodded. Law was a good man—a mysterious man, but a loyal brother to our club. Plus, a marker from the Savage Disciples would do us a world of good.

“Alright, brothers, to recap what went down tonight.” He slammed the gavel down, signifying church had begun. “Our trap got some members of the Bloods in our custody. One was shot at Hellbound, and one tried to off himself but wouldn’t say shit. They’re either loyal or too scared to rat their boss out.”

“I wonder if their boss is threatening their families,” Husk said. Husk had more at stake in our attempts to find out who their boss was than anyone in this room, besides Prez, who had been dedicated to our cause since day one.

It cost him everything.

“Grim got some information that the Bloods were in talks with the Flock to help take over Diamond Ridge. That lines up with what Joslyn told us about the fighting rings. Rumor has it, the Flock murders their targets parents and takes the kids, raising them to be their soldiers. Or they threaten to kill their loved ones if they don’t join their cause,” Prez explained. “The man we shot at the party murdered a thirteen-year-old and his family for refusing to join the Bloods.”

“Hardcore shit, man,” Tyrant muttered. “But sounds like the Bloods are doin’ a lot more shit that aligns with the Flock. Did you get the member of the Flock who was supposed to be at Hellbound tonight?”

“Either they weren’t there, or they blended in well, but we’ll find out once we continue interrogations.” Prez’s fist was clenched so tightly, I could see a trail of blood streaming from where his nails met his palm. “Whoever runs the Flock needs to be taken down. If it’s the last thing I do, that motherfucker will bleed.”

“We will take that motherfucker down,” I corrected him. “We’re with you all the way, Prez.”

“We have to.” Husk’s voice was hoarse as his vulnerability showed. “I might not find her if we don’t.”

Knight put his hand on Husk’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. Three years ago, Husk lost his everything because of this organization. He’s been beating himself up over it, unrelenting in his pursuit to take this organization down.

“We got some interesting info out of Jordyn.” Prez gained our attention back. Now it was my turn to dig my nails into my palm, hoping the physical pain countered the mental pain. “Apparently, sweet little Joslyn has quite the past…”

The growl at the other end of the table wasn’t expected, as all eyes snapped to Sarge. I thought back to earlier when he said don’t talk about her like that. Guess I was right when I suspected he meant Joslyn—but I definitely wasn’t expecting that one.

Tentatively, hoping not to flip the crazy switch in Sarge, I asked Prez, “What’s Joslyn been up to?”

“Jordyn didn’t go into much detail. Just said that Joslyn wasn’t the good girl she pretended to be.”

“She could be diverting the attention off her and the Bloods,” Knight pointed out. “Can’t believe a word she says, Prez.”

“I know that,” he chastised. If there was anything he hated more was when people made him feel like he was an idiot. “But we know nothin’ about these girls. We have to believe all possibilities.” His eyes narrowed on me. “And I mean, all possibilities.”

I knew where he was getting at—that there might be a chance Nyla was involved. Even though I was biased toward that slip of a girl with the pretty eyes, I knew in my bones she didn’t have anything to do with Jordyn or the Bloods, and that she knew nothing of them other than them being a bunch of partiers.

But I’ve been surprised before. It was a scenario I didn’t want, but one that was always a possibility.

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his silver-peppered hair, apparently not done with his speech. “Jordyn said Joslyn knew about the Bloods’ existence before this and to ask Joslyn how she got involved. Don’t know what that means, but we need to get that information out of one of them.” There was another growl from the other end of the table. All eyes snapped back to Sarge as Prez lost his patience with him. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?”

“You ain’t touchin’ Joslyn,” he snapped at him, surprising the rest of the brothers—except for Prez and me, since we’d seen this behavior toward Joslyn earlier. Sarge may have a short fuse, but more often than not, it snapped on our enemies or people who accidentally brushed up against him.

“Catchin’ feelins, brother?” Tyrant taunted, smiling even though I was sure Sarge was about to smack it right off his face. “How cute. Since Grim here seduced the wrong girl, I hope you don’t mind if I—”

Sarge appeared from across the table before Tyrant could finish, mere centimeters from his face with a deadly snarl on his lips. “You touch her, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Tyrant just didn’t know when to quit, and his teeth flashed at Sarge. I was sure Sarge was about to knock some of them out. “I’ll be sure to let you know how it is.”

A fist slamming against skin radiated through the room, followed by Sarge panting heavily as Tyrant let out a maniacal laugh. “That’s all you got, Sarge? I barely felt that!”

I could tell Sarge was trying his best to hold back. All of us, Tyrant included, knew Sarge was the strongest one, physically. He was the biggest brother in the club in terms of muscle mass, and I’ve seen him kill an enemy with a single punch. I knew he continued his grueling four AM military workouts daily, even after he was honorably discharged from the army. Not sure why, but I think he needed some type of routine to keep him sane. Right now, though, he was shaking, fingers twitching, trying to keep himself from losing control because he knew what happened when he did.

I looked at Hex, seeing his hand grip something in his pocket, ready in case we needed him. Knight and Husk were positioned to hold Sarge down if need be. Hopefully, it didn’t come to that, because it was always a mess whenever it did.

A mess I couldn’t watch. I could be around needles—they made my skin itch with unwanted need and temptation.

“That’s enough, Tyrant,” I scolded him, though his shit-eating grin was still present on his face. He took it too far most of the time, and he knew it. Fucker always took life as a joke. “Sarge, sit back down. No one’s touching Joslyn. We just need to know her involvement with the Bloods, past or present.”

Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell his breathing was slowing as his chest evened out. Thankfully, we didn’t have to sedate him this time. Hex always kept a syringe on him and an extra hidden in every room where everyone, excluding Sarge, knew where it was. I looked at Tyrant, who took his seat next to Knight, lip already bloody and swelling from Sarge’s punch. “You need to learn when to quit, brother. One day it’s going to bite you in the ass.”

“Maybe I’m into that shit.”

“Don’t care about your fuckin’ sex life,” I grumbled I unwillingly knew more than I wanted to about that part of his life. I looked at Sarge, who was back in his chair, head directed to the front of the room. His chest rose and fell quickly, trying to even his breathing. I prayed it worked.

“You pussies ready to start again, or do I have to watch you act like children some more?” Red was beginning to color Prez’s face, his nostrils flared as his jaw tightened. “You’re grown fuckin’ men. This mission ain’t about you; it’s about atonement for your sins. You already have enough, so stop adding more to your soul.”

Our small family was quiet for a moment, letting the stalemate pass through all of us. When we were sure Sarge wasn’t going to kill Tyrant, I asked, “So what are we gonna do ‘bout them, Prez?”

“The female members of the Bloods have a spot down in our basement, and the males are hanging by their ankles at Hellbound.” Good. Both places we made sure were extremely uncomfortable for whatever unfortunate soul was put there. “The three you spied on? Pretty sure I scared them into not telling anyone, but we’re gonna keep them until Sunday to see if they crack, but I truly don’t think they know shit. I want to do more questioning with Joslyn specifically, but we’re keepin’ Nyla and Oakley as leverage for her to confess in case she’s playin’ us. If they pass, they’re free to go.”

“You’re just gonna let them walk? They could just go run their mouths to someone. You know this town don’t like us.” Knight scratched the short part of his undercut.

“I’m well-aware,” Prez acknowledged, his lips growing as thin as his patience with us. “We can’t afford to lose our ground. If they told the wrong person, that would be detrimental to our mission and leverage. If they were gonna tell, they would regardless of the consequences. But to make sure they don’t, and to keep them safe in case they truly don’t know anything, we’re gonna have a brother watch them at all times.”

“Plus, if they’re lying, then we would figure it out if we watched them constantly.” Tyrant smirked. “You’re a genius, Prez.”

He scowled at him. “Don’t be a kiss ass, Tyrant.”

He laughed in return, lifting his knuckles to Knight. “In the end, we win.”

“We always do,” Knight replied, bumping his fist to his.

I shook my head because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. None of us in this room won anything in life. And if we did, we wouldn’t be here. “There’s no winners in this situation, only survivors.”

“Hex,” Prez addressed our silent doctor in the back right corner of the room. Just like Sarge and V, touch Hex and you’re dead. “How’s the dumb fuck who jumped into the ravine?”

“Dead.” Hex’s one-word answer was expected—just like Sarge and V, he was the silent type. He’d get his point across in one or two words. He was a helluva doctor, though. Half of us would be dead without him. He just had one rule.

He could touch you, but you could never touch him.

And if you did? He’d kill you instead of saving you.

Prez smirked knowingly. “You didn’t even try to save him, did you?”

His silence was taken as admittance. I just hoped he suffered before he passed, or that Hex choked the life out of him. Either way, I hoped it was painful.

“We’ll continue our mission of trying to get information out as the days progress; until then, get some sleep unless you’re assigned to watch our guests. We’ll have church again this week to discuss information and the next steps.” Darrell paused, eyeing us. “This is just the beginning, brothers. It’s time to get prepared for war.”

The resounding bang of the gavel hitting its sound block signified the end of church. All the brothers stood from their chairs, and, per usual, V and Hex were already gone. They were the last to get here and the first to leave. V was supposed to stay until all the brothers left since he was an officer, but the fucker never listened and there was no point in reminding him—he’d stick a finger in his ear and turn his back on you like a child.

As exhausted as I was from going from the best few weeks of my life to one of the worst days I’ve ever experienced, I needed to see her one last time. If it didn’t put our mission at risk, I would have dragged her ass back to my bed or I’d sleep with her in this one with her friends watching. I didn’t care. The days I spent with Nyla allowed my head to clear enough where I could get more than three hours of sleep.

I chuckled. It didn’t hurt that she helped in tiring me out. Teaching someone to please me was a lot hotter than I thought it would be.

Making my way to the room we left the girls in, I knocked, giving them a few moments to get prepared. When I walked in, they were all in the beds we provided, silent. Oakley was covering her face, Joslyn eyes were as wide as an owl’s, and Nyla…

Well, if looks could kill, I would be dead.

“Guys aren’t gonna try to sleep?” No response, not like I was expecting anything. “Nyla,” I called. “Come talk to me for a minute.

I watched as she looked at her friends before slowly standing. I didn’t miss the way she hugged herself as she did, her eyes downcast, refusing to look at me. Once she stepped outside the door, I closed it and looked at her. I didn’t like this look on her, much less since I was the one who took the fire right out of her. She reminded me of a shell of her former self, one that was running on fumes, betrayal, and adrenaline.

I clenched my fist, a feeling akin to shame spreading through me.

I took a step closer, my blood turning cold when I saw her flinch. My eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not going to hurt you, Nyla.”

She laughed, clearly not believing me—not that I blamed her. She obviously wasn’t convinced, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t a mission at first; my interest in her wasn’t genuine, but as time went on, she became my key to getting some information out about Joslyn without being obvious about it.

But the more time I spent with her, the more the lines between our mission and my temptation became blurred.

For the first time, I wanted to spend time with someone for more than a night.

I didn’t know what this woman did to me, but whatever it was, we were figuring it out together, whether she liked it or not. She thought I was demanding during my fake courting of her; well, she hasn’t met the real me yet.

I was relentless in getting what I wanted, and, in the end, you were mine or you were dead.

“You knew.”

Her dubious words confused me. “Knew what?”

“You knew I was at the grocery store. It wasn’t a cute coincidence; you were following me.”

I nodded, not denying it. I’d been watching her from afar when Oakley picked her up and drove them to the grocery store. “Yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed on me. “You’ve been playing with me this whole time.”

My silence spoke all the words I couldn’t convey.

Her laugh was slightly hysterical, and for a minute, I was scared she was actually going mad. Any normal person would after finding out the person they were beginning to, dare I say, fall in love with, wasn’t who they thought they were. I wasn’t dumb; I saw the look in her eyes and the way I shattered her heart completely. The silver lines were dull and jagged compared to the way they shone when she saw me.

“Should we start planning our funerals now?” Her mocking tone didn’t hide the fear we’d instilled in her. “Even if we get out of here alive, we’ll never be free from you or the nightmares we’re sure to get from this. One of you monsters will always be lurking in the shadows of our minds.”

I had to bite my tongue. I may have called myself a monster, but Nyla never made me feel like one. Hearing her call me one made the hole in my chest where my heart should be throb. I couldn’t deny her words; what she thought of me and what I actually was were two different things. I’m just glad she caught up to what I really was.

The worst thing that could possibly ever happen to her.

“You deserve a world I can’t give you. You hate me, and I promise I’ll make you hate me even more. Told you I was a monster, pretty girl, and you’re my greatest treasure.”

Just like I thought, my words surprised her, causing her pretty mouth—that was wrapped around my cock just a few days ago—to pop open. I remembered her so eager to learn how to please me. I shouldn’t be thinking about that, but the picture she sent earlier made my cock twitch every time I thought of it.

Smirking, I got closer until my lips were against her ear, eager to tease her to at least lighten my mood. This pissed-off side of Nyla was extremely sexy. I licked the shell of her ear before giving it a sharp pull with my teeth, taking great pleasure in her hiss.

“I own all your firsts and lasts, pretty girl. Meaning, I own you.” I didn’t forget how she was dressed in my shirt, naked from the waist down with my cum drying on her thigh. “Men like me never let go of their precious treasures. I’ve spent the past few weeks letting you know just how mine you really are. And let me tell ya, you weren’t complaining.”

“That was before you did this.” She reared back, disgust on her features as she snapped, “I’ll never sleep with you.”

“You already have. Multiple times,” I corrected her, igniting the small fire inside her into an inferno. I loved watching her lips curl and her eyes shine with contempt for me. If I wasn’t sure she would squeeze my dick in a way I didn’t like, I’d put her hand where it belonged.

“It won’t ever happen again.”

God, this woman is stubborn.

I reached into my back pocket, pulling her panties out that I ripped off her before I fucked her against the wall, her face flushed with anger when she saw what I had in my possession. “We’ll see about that,” I challenged her. It was too late for her to run from me. “You should’ve listened to my warnings before, Nyla.”

Her pretty lips snarled at me before they snapped, “You don’t have to keep telling me that. I know how much of a mistake you are, pretty boy.”

With that, she slammed the door.

I stood in the hallway for what felt like forever, glancing back at their door once more, willing Nyla to come back out, but she never did. The closed door signified more than just what it was.

She thought there was no chance for me and her.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t heed my multiple attempts to warn her away from me, and now she was going to have to face the consequences of her actions.

And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

CHAPTER 11

Nyla

T he altercation with Mitchell the night before made me feel drained. The moment I walked back into the room, Oakley and Joslyn were worried, but I was too tired to deal with anything. I made my way to one of the surprisingly comfortable beds. I wanted to sleep, but the anxiety that came with this whole mess left me unable to do so. Plus, I was afraid one of them would break into the room in the middle of the night…

I shivered at that thought.

Collectively, I think I only slept an hour, maybe two. I sat up in bed and saw Joslyn and Oakley were doing the same. The day passed slowly as someone knocked on the door, then opened it to reveal a woman. My eyes widened as she held three plates.

“Mornin’, beauties.” She beamed. She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties, or early thirties at most. Her pale skin enhanced her colorful tattoos, and the silver of her nose and septum piercings glinted in the light. Her rust-colored hair was styled in an afro around her that matched the streak of freckles on her face. Her body was voluptuous, but she rocked those curves like she owned them. You could feel the confidence ooze off her in waves.

Confidence I had felt just last night, but was drained with a single lie.

We all stayed silent, fearing to react. Our silence made her sigh. “I wish the circumstances were different, but there’s nothin’ starving yourselves will fix.” We still didn’t react, which didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest.

“My name’s Victoria. I cook, clean, and barkeep for the men here.” Her features softened, no doubt sensing our fear. “I understand you’re scared, but you’re safe. What they did was awful and out of character; these men are goal-oriented and let their goals overtake their empathy. It’s no excuse, but please, beauts.” She held the plates out so we could see what was on them—an assortment of fresh berries, fluffy pancakes with melted butter pooled in the center, and a yogurt dish covered with crunchy granola. “I made this myself, just for y’all. I’ll be back to check on you around lunchtime. If you need somethin’, knock on the door and a brother will get me, okay?”

“We don’t want anything from you or them,” I hissed, irritation that built within me unleashing at her. “For all we know you could’ve poisoned that food, and if they’re going to kill us, I’d rather they’d shoot us to make it quick.”

Her shoulders slumped, dejected. “I promise it’s not poisoned; I made it myself. The men aren’t allowed in my kitchen.”

“Don’t care.” I buried my face in my arms, yet again trying to will this reality away. “I don’t trust them, and I sure as hell don’t trust anyone who willingly works for men like them.”

She looked at me, sighing, but didn’t argue. Instead, just as she came in, she walked out the door with less confidence than she came in with. We all looked at each other, but none of us made any moves toward the food. My appetite was zero, the fear and anxiety filling me to the brim.

I stood from the bed, walking over to the lush plates of food Victoria had lined up for us. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the fact they had sent someone to come in and try to be kind to us, despite the carnage they turned our life into? I let out a frustrated scream, flipping over the tray of food, which went flying as my chest moved rapidly.

“Nyla?” Oakley’s call was muddled, distant in my angered state. “Nyla.”

I turned my head to her, noting how the whites of her eyes were bloodshot with the force of her tears and the mascara streaks down her face. “She was just trying to be nice.”

“How do you know that, Oakley?” I snapped without thinking, my rage showing no limit. “I thought Mitchell was just trying to be nice, and look where we fucking are!”

She flinched, snapping me out of it and back into reality as remorse hit my gut like a sucker punch. “I’m sorry, Oak. I just…” What could I say? I felt guilty. I felt hurt. I felt like going to sleep, hoping I’d wake up in my own bed, and if I didn’t…? Well, then I preferred I wouldn’t wake up at all.

“I understand.” She recovered from my remark quickly, trying to remain calm for my sake. “Getting worked up is what they want us to do; we expose more when we don’t think rationally. We have nothing to hide, but for whatever reason, they think we do.”

I heard shifting from the bed in front of me, Joslyn refusing to meet my eyes. I wanted to question her, but I needed to calm down before I did anything else I regretted and besides, Joslyn looked absolutely miserable. I couldn’t bring myself to put her through more torture—I’m sure the Souls would be doing that to us later. Instead, I went back to the bed, getting under the covers, sulking.

Hours passed before Victoria came by with lunch, and the aroma of delicious food made me want to vomit—fresh chicken salads, crusty French bread, a small side salad, and what smelled like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie.

Her eyes went to the food scattered on the ground, frowning at the mess I had made. She left the room, coming back with a broom, dustpan, and trash bag. She got on her knees, wordlessly cleaning up the scattered remnants of food until the floor had nothing but crumbs left. “I’ll vacuum when you girls leave. I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

She left the room more dejected than when she came in, and if I had the energy, I would have felt bad for making her feel like that when she was nothing but nice during breakfast. But if she was associated with the monsters of this club, she probably wasn’t that good of a person herself. I cursed, hating Mitchell a little more for giving me a taste of the real world that made me jaded toward it. The three of us didn’t even utter a word; hell, we barely even moved the whole day.

As the sun began to set and another food plate went untouched, there was a knock on the door. We figured it was just Victoria coming in to collect the untouched food, but who stepped through the threshold sparked a new fire inside me.

Jordyn.

Behind her stood Darrell with a smirk on his lips. The bastard knew what he was doing by bringing her in here. “I believe you four need to discuss things. I’ll leave you to it.”

We were silent after he shut the door, the thud barely audible over the thumping in my ears. Jordyn looked just as good as we felt. Her blonde hair stuck up in various places as her make-up streaked down her face, leaving black residue in its tracks. The clothes she wore were wrinkled and had dried blood on them that I didn’t think was hers.

I refused to think of the man they shot in front of us last night. That scene replayed in my mind enough.

I jumped out of bed, running over to her. She flinched at my quick movements, but that didn’t stop me. “What the fuck, Jordyn!”

She sighed as she looked over my shoulder, her eyes shining as she was no doubt looking at her sister. “Look, I had no idea it was going to be like this, alright? When I first joined the Bloods, it was never like this. We were just a group of people looking to have a good time and forget… It wasn’t until Lincoln partnered up with someone that the shit really started to hit the fan.”

I heard the rustling of blankets before I heard Joslyn’s footsteps move toward us. “Do you know who?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’m just their whore; they don’t tell me anything.” Joslyn flinched when her sister referred to herself as a whore, making Jordyn smirk. “What’s wrong, sis? Ashamed that your sister is a whore?”

“Of course not.” Joslyn’s lips quivered. “You’re my sister; I love you.”

Jordyn shook her head slowly as a wicked smirk crossed her lips. “Feeling isn’t mutual.”

The temperature in the room turned to ice from all the tension and hateful aura. I gritted my teeth, wanting to do nothing more than knock her teeth out for talking to Joslyn like that, but I worried about the domino effect my actions would cause. “Is this the first party the Souls have been to?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. This was the first party in a while I was halfway sober for. If they’ve shown up before, I’ve never noticed.” Her smirk made fire swirl in my gut. “Why? You want to know if your precious Mitchell’s been there before?”

If looks could kill, this bitch would be dead on the floor. “I don’t care about Mitchell.”

“So you don’t care that I’ve taken a ride with him before?” She cackled.

Aggravation like I’ve never felt ripped through me. “He said he didn’t know who you were.”

Her catty smile made me consider punching it right off her face, consequences be damned. “How do you know he was telling the truth? Obviously, he’s already lied to you, so why wouldn’t he now?”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard it bled, and I took a step toward her. I knew she was lying to get a reaction out of me, but hearing her throw Mitchell’s cattiness at me unleashed the pent-up frustration I’ve held since last night. “He wouldn’t touch trash like you,” I sneered.

That cut through her sass, making the bitch I knew come out. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” She eyed me up and down. “He touched you. Obviously, his standards aren’t high.”

My whole face was hot, anger fueling my impulse as words came out that Grandma would wash my mouth out with soap if she were still alive. “You realize you’re the reason we’re in this mess, right? Your choices affect more than just yourself, but you’re too much of a selfish bitch to realize all it’s done to not only you, but to your fucking twin sister!”

Her green eyes narrowed, rage fueling the fire of her words. “You don’t know one fucking thing, Nyla. Not one fucking thing. You don’t know how I got involved. You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve been forced to do.” Her voice cracked slightly, and if I wasn’t so pissed at her, then maybe I’d show some sympathy for her. “One look at me and what do you see? A girl with track marks, the fucked-up drug addict. Now, what do you see when you look at her?” She gestured toward Joslyn, who was watching her sister’s tirade with tearful eyes. “Perfect. Blonde hair. Porcelain skin. No. Fucking. Track. Marks.” She spat each word with disdain. “You think it’s my fault? Have you ever asked her how I met the Bloods? How I even got involved with them? People look at me and they see a fucking mistake; and when they look at her, they see what I should’ve become. I’d do anything to be Joslyn, living the good life while everyone else is dealing with the consequences of her choices.” I could tell Jordyn was being genuine. The tears shining in her eyes showed what she was truly feeling, her words tugging on my heartstrings.

I looked over at Joslyn, tears escaping from her eyes at a steady pace, dripping onto the floor. She wouldn’t even look at Jordyn; instead, she was silently telling me something I didn’t want to accept.

Do I even know who she is?

How did things turn upside down so quickly? Was my judgment on everyone I knew in my life so skewed? I turned to Oakley, who was still in bed, not having the energy to leave it. Her eyes were large with disbelief, watching as the silent truth was told.

“Jos?” I whispered, not wanting to believe Jordyn. “Is what she’s saying true?”

She remained silent, confirming our thoughts. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“I told them the truth, sister dear,” Jordyn warned her.

“Are they going to kill me?” Joslyn’s response was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know what they’re going to do, but whatever they decide won’t hurt me any less.” Her tone was sharp, malice and truth lacing every word, making Joslyn’s tears fall faster. “Can’t cry now, sister dear. It’s about time you face the consequences of your actions.”

“I do!” she snapped, surprising us all. Joslyn never raised her voice to anyone, especially not in front of her twin. She was too afraid. “Everyday, when I look at you, seeing the hatred you have for me in your eyes, the scars on your arms, seeing how thin and gray you look, when you purposely try to overdose…” She choked on her sobs. “I hate myself. I hate myself so much.”

“No one hates you more than me,” Jordyn seethed, unaffected by her damning speech. Instead, she turned her back to us. “I’m taking a nap. If you need me? Don’t.”

The air was thick, Jordyn’s words revealing more about her sister than I thought possible. Joslyn was always tight-lipped about her relationship with her sister, only letting others see the surface of their relationship. All we had seen was Jordyn being nasty to Joslyn, but we didn’t know the darker details. I was disappointed in what I’ve learned about Joslyn, but Jordyn still had no right to abuse her sister the way she had.

There was absolutely no excuse for abuse.

“Are you still my friend?” I snapped my head toward Joslyn at her hushed words.

My eyes softened. She’s already lost so much in her short life, and she was afraid when the truth—even if it was the vague truth—came out, she would lose us, too. But that would never happen. “Of course, I am. Bad choices don’t define you, Jos.”

She let out a relieved breath, like the weight came off her shoulders. The past day was extremely emotional for everyone, and the fact that it didn’t look like there was an end in sight just yet made it all the more exhausting. “Let’s just try to relax and see what these brutes have planned for us.”

She nodded, wiping her tear-stained cheeks, but didn’t say anything as she walked over to the bed.

I turned my back, mulling over Jordyn’s words, and I couldn’t help but feel empathy for her. It was obvious whatever Joslyn did to her sister had affected her a lot. I sighed, just more drama added onto our shoulders. It seemed to be piling on really heavily.

“Oh, Nyla?” I turned toward Jordyn’s bed, seeing her sitting up with a smirk on her face. “Mitchell tastes good, doesn’t he?” She quirked a brow as she licked her lips.

Crack.

“What the fuck!” Jordyn’s shrieked, drawing me out of whatever trance I was in. The door burst open as shouts and curses filled the room.

“What the hell happened?” Mitchell demanded before looking around. His eyes immediately found me, zeroing in as I cradled my hand. He glanced over at Jordyn on the bed, connecting what happened as he noticed Jordyn’s hand covering her nose, blood dripping down the seams. “You broke her nose?”

I didn’t answer.

An exasperated sigh left Mitchell’s mouth. “Didn’t know you were violent, pretty girl.”

“I’m not, but I’ll gladly show you the same treatment.”

A low whistle sounded. “We got a wild one here.”

I didn’t recognize his voice, but I remembered his face. His smile was charming, and his eyes were mischievous. He was the man who kicked the door down to get Oakley and Joslyn at the party—the man with the colorful, tattooed skin.

“Shut up, Tyrant,” Mitchell snapped, turning his attention to me. “What did she do to piss ya off?”

Again, I didn’t answer, but someone answered for me. “Jordyn’s making it sound like she slept with you.”

“What the fuck?” Mitchell roared, the cords in his neck straining as he snapped his head toward me at Oakley’s words. “I’ve never slept with her, Nyla. Never even been fuckin’ tempted to.”

“I know. She was just trying to get a rise out of me, and it worked. But she can have my leftovers,” I gritted, hissing as my hand began to throb.

Tyrant let out a throaty laugh. “Obviously, you don’t want her takin’ your leftovers if you broke her nose over it, honey.”

“Don’t call her honey,” Mitchell snapped at him, making him put his hands up in defense.

“I wouldn’t want your leftovers either, Nyla. Grim’s a real bitch.”

“Everyone settle the fuck down,” Darrell boomed, apparently tired of the bullshit. “Why are you making things worse for yourself, Jordyn?”

She shrugged, wincing as the action moved her nose. “Maybe I like being hurt.”

“Go talk to Hex; I think he’s into that shit, too.”

“Tyrant!” Darrell berated. “If you’re not going to act like a fuckin’ adult, then leave the room.”

“I’ll behave,” he grumbled, but it didn’t sound convincing.

“We heard you.” Darrell turned his attention back to Jordyn. “Blaming your sister for everything.”

“It’s her fault!” she shouted, hissing as the movement caused more pain in her nose. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think.” His reply was calm, his voice even. “From what you told us, Joslyn may have gotten you involved, but she didn’t make you harm as many people as you have. Before you play the blame game, take a long look at yourself, sweetheart. You hurt those people, not Joslyn.”

The room went still, even Tyrant’s bright personality turned cold. I wondered what Jordyn would do. Would she fight him? If anyone else said that to her, she’d throw fists first and think about the consequences when she was bleeding later. The four men in the room were all twice our size, and obviously not afraid to resort to violence.

“Leave her alone.” Joslyn’s voice was trying to be strong, but it came out shaky. “It is my fault.”

“She’s abusing you, Joslyn.” Darrell cut right through Joslyn’s bullshit. “And she won’t stop until you quit enabling her.”

I thought the windows would crack with the amount of tension in the room. “Tyrant, take Jordyn to get cleaned up,” Mitchell commanded through the silence, then turned his gaze on me. “Nyla, you’re comin’ with me. Need to get your hand cleaned up.”

“I’m fine.” I knew I was being stubborn, trying to act like my hand wasn’t bothering me, when in reality, I wondered if I didn’t break my thumb. I’ve never thrown a punch before, but now I was pretty sure the thumb was supposed to be outside your knuckles.

“You’re anything but fine.” He saw right through me. “Quit bein’ stubborn. Let me help.”

“The only way you can help is by letting us leave.”

“We’re still deciding on what to do with you,” Darrell confirmed. “Sarge?”

The man with the hidden face cocked his head, indicating he was listening. “Resume your position outside the door, if anything happens again, come get us.” Sarge nodded, his head still pointed in Joslyn’s direction, just like it had been since he stepped foot in the room.

“I’m not fuckin’ around, Nyla. Come with me willingly or kickin’ and screamin’ over my shoulder.” I clenched my teeth so hard, my jaw throbbed. I knew he wasn’t lying; I knew he would toss me over his shoulder, no questions asked. Maybe if he threw me over his shoulder, I could get a good kick to his balls. That intrusive thought made my lips turn up slightly.

I didn’t like who this situation was turning me into. I never liked violence, but it took everything in me to not hurt Mitchell—intrusive thoughts were a bitch. This wasn’t who I was.

“Come with me. You know what happens if you don’t,” Mitchell ordered, turning as he walked out of the room, expecting me to follow him. And the bastard knew I would, since I was too afraid to find out what else he could do to me with his cruelty.

I ignored everyone’s stare as I did my walk of shame behind the man who got me into this mess.

The adrenaline was wearing off with every step I followed behind Mitchell. My steps became sluggish as what I just did hit me ten-fold.

I hit Jordyn. Not only did I hit her, but I hit her because I was jealous. Jealous of just the thought of her and Mitchell being together. The fact she was just saying things to be a bitch was another story all together. I froze, realizing that Mitchell knew…

He knew I hit her because of what she said about him.

I wondered what he was going to do. Tease me? Berate me? I didn’t know this Mitchell; I only knew the Mitchell who showed me how much he cared about me through his touches and kisses. This version of him hated me with his eyes but still took care of me, just in a much more aggressive way.

He stopped in front of a door, turning the knob. “Go sit down. Be a good girl and don’t make true to your threat to hit me, okay? I would hate to have to punish you when you’re already hurt.”

I ignored his innuendo, passing him while trying to show him how unaffected I was by him and his words. I did as he asksed, knowing if I didn’t, he would make my life more miserable.

“You ever throw a punch before?” He opened the cabinet above the sink, grabbing the first aid kit. “The quicker you answer me, the quicker you can get away from me.”

“No,” I gritted, trying to keep my hand still since moving it made it hurt worse.

“Figured as much. I gotta teach you how to defend yourself. You fucked up your hand pretty good,” he observed, kneeling in front of me. “Never fucking do anything like that again, Nyla.”

“If we’re just throwing advice around, I’d advise you to start telling people your brothers are actually murderers.” My voice was flat, just like my heart. “It’d make for good conversation starters for whoever you decide to fuck over next.”

He let out a low whistle, and the force of his laughter that followed sounded fake. “You got a sharp tongue on you, don’t cha? Where was this fire when we were together?”

I felt a rift in my chest. When… When we were together. He said it like it was lifetimes ago, not mere hours, and I wasn’t sure why that gutted me so terribly. He was a liar, a murderer, a monster. So why did his words affect me so completely?

“It was too busy trusting you.” The words flew out without permission, but it was too late to take them back. “And now you broke the seal like you broke me, and the fire keeps burning with everything you say and do to me.” The fire spread from my stomach to my eyes, hoping to burn a hole in him with my gaze. “Be careful, you might get burned.”

“As long as it’s you, I’ll bear any scar you’re willing to give me.” My breath hitched. I was not expecting an answer like that. “Did you really hit her because she said I slept with her?”

I did not want to answer him, because either I would admit my jealousy over a drug addict sleeping with my monster, or I would be a liar. Apparently, my silence was answer enough because his cynical laugh followed shortly afterward. “Can’t say it’s not hot that you got so jealous over me. There was never a woman I wanted more than you.”

I shifted my gaze, feeling entirely too vulnerable to keep my eyes on him. “Too bad you threw me away.”

“Broken treasure is still treasure.” His reply was swift, coming through like a broken record, even with my constant pushback. “This is just a taste of what your life is going to become with me, pretty girl.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he was delusional if he thought there was an us still. I winced as he rubbed the alcohol pad over the broken skin on my knuckle, effectively shutting me up. My pain took prescience over my words. Mitchell noticed my flinch, and I felt him blow on the cool area, making it even colder before I felt his rough lips on my skin.

He was kissing my hand. Part of me wanted to smack him away, while the other part was feeling nostalgic.

Looking me dead in the eye while his lips remained on my hand, he murmured, “I’ll teach you how to defend yourself; until then, keep your hands to yourself.” He dropped my hand, getting up from his crouched position. “I don’t know if the Bloods will be after you because of this little stunt of yours.”

That caught my attention and dread gushed into my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“In our club, when one of our brothers gets hurt, we go after the person who hurt them—no questions asked.” He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t know if their gang acts the same. Dammit, Nyla!” he growled, causing me to draw back. “Why did you have to do that?”

“I blacked out,” I admitted. “As soon as she said…” I couldn’t repeat it, scared it’d cause me to have a similar reaction. “What she did… I didn’t think, couldn’t see. I blacked out, and the next thing I knew, Jordyn was there with her hand over her nose. I didn’t even feel it until afterward.”

“That would be the adrenaline wearing off,” he replied dryly. “Impulses cloud our judgment, but Nyla, you might’ve made this situation a lot worse for yourself.”

“Why the hell do you even care?” I spat at him. Unlike earlier, I didn’t care if I released my pent-up frustration on him. “I wish I never met you in that graveyard. Biggest mistake of my life.”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “Funny. It was the greatest moment of mine.”

He walked out, taking another jagged piece of my heart with him. I hated that, despite everything, a part of me still wanted him. With time, I knew the feelings would pass, but for now…

I just need to know I’m going to survive this.

CHAPTER 12

Nyla

D read filled me being back in this room that was akin to a prison. It was the same room we were led to the night we were brought here—the one where realizations and secrets were brought to light. The only thing keeping me grounded in reality was the adrenaline mixed with fear of being back in the interrogation room with Mitchell, Darrell, Sarge, and someone else lurking in the shadowed corner.

The man, possibly the scariest man I’ve ever seen, stood in the corner. The black strands that matched the midnight color of his eyes were tied in a bun at the nape of his neck, and the black surgical mask he wore was unnerving, along with the baseball bat leaning against the chair he was sitting in. Looking closer, I saw he wasn’t paying close attention to something. He wasn’t looking at me.

He was watching Oakley with intense curiosity.

I knew she could feel it; I recognized the fear rolling off her in waves as she hugged herself. I wondered if it was an attempt to shield herself from his heated stare, but in the open room, it was impossible to hide from his stare.

It was giving me chills.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, ladies,” Darrell began, straight to the point like he had been. “We have someone coming in to ask you some more questions, and if you pass, you’re free to go. You won’t speak a word of this to anyone, and if you do well…” The sinister grin returned, sending shivers down my spine. “I think you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

The door suddenly opened, and in walked a man with a briefcase. From a distance, he looked way too nice to be a part of these rugged bikers with his three-piece black suit, attention on his phone, and lips in a scowl. My eyes widened when he got close enough, my stomach dropping to the floor. “Trevor?”

At hearing his name, his steps faltered, almost dropping his phone. He looked at me, his jade eyes that resembled Oakley’s wide in surprise. “Nyla?” he gasped in disbelief. “What are you doing—” He looked to my side, relief washing over him as he saw who was sitting next to me. “Oakley?”

“D-Dad?” Trevor ran to the other side of the table, hugging his daughter close as she immediately wrapped her arms around him, visibly shaking.

“Dad?” Darrell didn’t bother to hide his surprise as he leaned forward, a necklace slipping from the neck of his shirt. He gently tucked the necklace back into his shirt and and looked at Mitchell, who wore the same shocked look. “You have a fuckin’ kid, Law?”

“Well, this just got more fucked,” Mitchell muttered.

“Thank fucking God.” He clutched her tighter to him. “Me and your mom have been so fuckin’ worried about you. Your phone went straight to voicemail, you weren’t at your apartment—”

“I-it broke.”

“Broke? How the hell did it break?”

“Broke it so no one could track her,” Mitchell said with no ounce of emotion.

Trevor’s neck strained to the point I thought the cords would pop right out. He was livid. “What do you mean, you broke my daughter’s phone so no one could track her?”

Mitchell threw his head back, letting out a short, frustrated cry as Darrell answered, “Sit down, Law. Let’s get this figured out.”

“I leave my family for two fucking weeks to get a marker for this fuckin’ club, only to come back to see my daughter and her friends dirty, red-faced, and scared.” Trevor was spitting mad. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this.”

“D-Dad?” Trevor looked down at his daughter, making my heart hurt as I was reminded how me and my father had left things the last time we talked. Despite my disappointment in his words toward me, it was nothing compared to the way I was kicking myself for not listening to him. This is why I always did what Dad said. He never steered me wrong, and the one time I made my own choice, I fucked up, royally. My dad loved me, and I thought we had an unbreakable bond until recent events, but it wasn’t ever one like they had. Trevor truly loved his little girl. “C-can we leave?”

“Yes—”

“No,” Darrell was firm as he cut Darrell off. “Not gonna repeat myself again, Law. Sit. Down. It seems like we have a lot to discuss.”

His eyes narrowed at Darrell, but surprisingly, he pulled an extra chair at one of the ends of the table. “Stand up, Oak.” She did as he asked. He picked up her chair and put it right next to his at the end of the table before she sat down. “Now, what the fuck happened?”

Darrell remained calm, despite the revelation in the room. “We infiltrated The Cardinal Bloods party as planned. Mitchell suspected these three of knowing some information, so he brought them along.” Darrell looked fiercely at Trevor, still not over Trevor’s best kept secret. And honestly, neither was I. I couldn’t believe someone as humble and caring as Oakley’s dad hung around these types of men. “I didn’t even know you were married, not to mention have a daughter.”

“Married long before you knew me, had Oakley young,” Trevor gritted out, not willing to disclose anything else. “I tried to keep my personal life and club life separate for this very fuckin’ reason.”

“Our lives are dangerous, Law,” Darrell began. “Regardless of trying to keep your family hidden, it would’ve caught up to you eventually. Be thankful it was us and not the enemy.”

Law narrowed his eyes at him. “Thankful? You kidnapped my fuckin’ flesh and blood! You wouldn’t allow her to call for fuckin’ help when she was scared! How the fuck would you feel if that was your daughter!”

Something hostile flashed in Darrell’s eyes. I’ve never seen someone look so… demented just by a few words. Silently he stood, leaning over the corner of the table, getting directly in Trevor’s face but, to his credit, he didn’t cower. No, instead he stood with him. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t even know where my daughter is.”

“You have a kid, Prez?” Mitchell asked, his tone full of disbelief.

“Had,” he spat, not willing to elaborate on the subject any further.

It looked like another well-kept secret was now exposed.

It seemed like Darrell was having a hard time collecting himself, the steady rate of his breathing not becoming less ragged as he tried calming breaths. “We have better things to discuss,” he grumbled, pulling out his necklace and sliding his finger through the ring before taking a deep breath.

“Better things than the fact you two have fuckin’ kids?”

“Yes,” Darrell hissed, his anger radiating off his skin. He opened his mouth to shout some more, but stopped when he remembered three innocent civilians were in the room. He sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself some more, but ultimately failing.

Trevor was done waiting for answers, quickly getting over his shock at Darrell’s indirect admission. “Tell me exactly what happened. I want to hear it from the girls.”

My heart sank. Oh God, was I really going to have to relive how my life did a complete one-eighty?

The three of us stayed silent, not wanting to speak about our horrific experiences over the past few days. “I went into Poppy Oak’s—”

“I said, I wanted to hear it from the girls,” Trevor cut Mitchell off.

Mitchell narrowed his eyes. “Don’t forget who you’re talkin’ to, Law. You’re already on thin fuckin’ ice.”

“Punish me later, I don’t give a fuck,” he growled. “I’m more concerned with these three girls than the fact you’re the VP.”

Darrell’s patience was impossibly thin. “One of you answer Law.”

Again silence. Oakley and Joslyn didn’t know the full story of how Mitchell came into our lives. I heard Darrell sigh, his patience with us thinning by the second. I felt when he opened his mouth, he was going to snap at us, but I decided to speak first. “It’s all my fault.”

All eyes snapped to me. “None of this is your fault, Nyla.”

Mitchell’s words would’ve comforted me in any other situation, but not this one. “Yes, it is. You told me that telling you where I worked the day we met would be the biggest mistake of my life… that you’d make me regret letting monsters like you in.” I looked at my lap, my fists gripping the fabric of my pants until my fingers turned white before I whispered, “And I regret it. So much.”

I might’ve imagined it, but I swore I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but otherwise, he didn’t respond. Because what could he say, really? He said the words, and I was just naïve enough to believe that I was just being nice, continuing my grandmother’s legacy of being nice to others. I guess in my attempt, I didn’t draw a very necessary line. How stupid could I be?

“Nyla?” I heard Oakley say, making me swallow past the lump in my throat.

“That day I visited Grandma’s grave, the day you picked me up, I…” I drew in a deep breath. “I met Mitchell. He was just sitting under the tree in the rain. I didn’t like seeing him like that, so I went over to maybe get him out of the rain. I was just trying to help…” I looked at the men whose full attention remained on my recounting. “I didn’t know it’d be the worst mistake of my life.”

“Not a mistake,” Mitchell blurted, his voice uncharacteristically soft, but I didn’t want to hear it. He was just trying to manipulate me like he had successfully done in the past, but I wouldn’t let him. Not anymore. I just wanted to be away from him and this situation, and then maybe I could sort through my feelings properly.

“You always did have a big heart, Nyla. You got it from your grandma,” Law commented. Right now, I wish I had my dad’s newly discovered heartless attitude. I already felt low, and thinking about my grandma right now was teetering me at rock bottom. “Some good deeds have shitty consequences. You didn’t deserve this.” He turned his glare to Mitchell, Darrell, and Sarge. “None of you did.”

“Why don’t you tell them what Jordyn told us, Joslyn?” Darrell was amused as he watched her flinch. I think he was thrilled with the way he made her fear him. “Don’t be shy. I know you know what I’m talking about. Our chat the other day pales in comparison.”

“You’ve had them here all weekend?” Trevor seethed, but he was ignored.

“I don’t want to say,” she whispered, barely audible in the room.

My gasp was loud as I snapped my head to Joslyn, watching as she tried to shrink in on herself. “Joslyn?”

“It’s true,” she admitted after a few moments. Yesterday we could only infer the truth, but hearing her actually admit it was a knock to the gut. “I’m the one who got Jordyn involved with them.” She gripped her blue sundress so tightly, her sun-kissed skin turned white. “That’s why she hates me so much.”

“And why you won’t give up on her.” I was trying to wrap her words around my head. “Because you feel guilty.”

She nodded, my heart breaking when I saw a tear fall onto her hand.

“Continue,” Darrell commanded me.

“Mitchell invited us to a party—”

“You went to a party?” Trevor interrupted me, looking at his daughter with shock.

She looked down at her lap. “I… I wanted to feel like the old me.”

My heart sank at her admission, but I continued, “When we got to the party, I didn’t expect Jordyn and her friends to be there. We all wanted to leave, but I knew Mitchell was there for work, so we—” I paused, looking at Joslyn and Oakley, feeling worse about myself because I knew they were sucking up their fears for me at that party. “I mean, I was willing to stick it out so Mitchell wouldn’t get in trouble by his boss, and then… they showed up.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Trevor tried to reel in his anger. “Jesus Christ.”

“We need to talk ‘bout what’s next.”

“What’s next,” Trevor spat, “is I’m taking my daughter home, and you’ll leave Nyla the fuck alone.”

My heart sank. “What about Joslyn?”

“Joslyn’s situation is complicated.” Trevor sighed. “She’ll need to be protected in case the Bloods retaliate.”

“They all need to be watched,” Darrell argued. “We can’t afford to let them run their mouths to the wrong people, Law.”

“We’re not going to tell anyone!” I cried. “Especially since Trevor’s involved, I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“In our world, words mean nothing.” Darrell clasped his hands together on the table. “Taking some of the Cardinal Bloods is going to put us on their organization’s radar, if we weren’t already. We don’t know who they’re dealing with, so we need to have you girls protected, even if it’s just to protect ourselves.”

“They wouldn’t need protection if it wasn’t for you.” Trevor was sharp with his accusation.

“I get you’re pissed and that’s clouding your judgment, but you need to think about the bigger picture.” Darrell was calm, despite his harsh words. “What happens if one day you’re at the club and they go after Oakley? Or your wife? What are you going to do then? Face the facts, Law; it was only a matter of time before your family got involved because of you.”

Clenching his jaw, Trevor remained silent.

“Besides,” Darrell’s voice lost its hard edge, “you don’t need another mark on your soul. Whoever these fuckers are, they’ve taken enough from you. Don’t let them take what you have left.”

Reality sunk in for me. They only let people in this club if they’ve committed an unforgivable sin. I looked at Trevor, whose head was still buried in his hands.

He’s done something God won’t forgive him for.

“D-Dad?” A frightened voice sounded from beside me. She must’ve remembered the requirements for this club, too.

Trevor smiled at his daughter. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Oakley. I can’t.” His whisper sounded more like a promise. “My atonement would be for naught if something happened to you.”

“So you’re in agreement, then?”

Jaw clenched, he reluctantly nodded.

“I assume you’ll be watching Oakley at your home.”

Another nod. “She’s not going to be out of my sight.”

“Joslyn.” She looked at the man in front of her. “Like Law said, your situation is complicated. With Jordyn’s heavy involvement and your past involvement, you disappearing will put more of a target on your back with them.”

“I know.” She looked down at her lap and whispered, “Are you going to hurt me?”

Darrell’s brow furrowed while Sarge growled, “Why would we hurt you?”

“Because I got Jordyn involved.” Her voice wobbled. “Because I—”

“You’re not involved with them anymore,” Darrell responded, quirking an eyebrow. “Right?”

“No!” She shook her head vigorously before her voice lowered. “Not anymore.”

Anymore rang over and over again in my head. I couldn’t believe sweet, little Joslyn used to hang around people who killed for sport. I couldn’t even picture it.

“We’ve all made bad choices, Joslyn.” Darrell was trying to comfort her with his words, even though his tone was stern. “Every man who’s a part of this club has done something God won’t ever forgive him for. It’s not about your sin; it’s what you do to atone for it.”

She looked up, her eyes shining with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

The corner of Darrell’s lip turned up. “Do you want to know how to atone for your sin?”

This caught her attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Help us get information about the Bloods.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Sarge snapped, making everyone’s heads turn in his direction. “You’re not putting her in danger.”

“Hear me out,” Darrell said calmly, not trying to piss Sarge off more than he already was, though he already looked killin’ mad. “She’s our best shot for exclusive information. She was part of their gang, her sister is part of their gang, and she lives where they host their parties—or where they used to host their parties. This could help us find out who they’re working for, Sarge.”

“Don’t give a fuck,” he growled.

Surprisingly, Joslyn smiled at him. “Um, sorry. Sarge, was it?” He seemed to perk up a bit when she said his name. “It’s okay. I want to help atone for the mess I helped create for my sister.”

He didn’t reply. I just assumed he was staring at her since I couldn’t see his eyes over his hood.

Darrell nodded at her. “Good choice.”

“I… I have one problem, though.”

“What is it?”

“I can only hear with my hearing aids, but if there’s too much background noise, then the sounds cancel each other out and I can’t understand what people are saying.”

“I remember.” Darrell rubbed his beard, deep in thought. “We’ll come up with a solution when the time comes closer. Welcome to our brotherhood of atonement, Joslyn.”

Sarge growled, making her flinch in surprise.

“I won’t hurt you,” Sarge said, trying his best to reel his anger in before he turned to Darrell. “I’ll watch out for her.”

Darrell dipped his chin. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, brother.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft as she offered Sarge a timid smile.

“Alright, now that just leaves you.” Darrell turned to me. “Why don’t—”

“She’s coming with me.”

I paled. I really didn’t want to go with Mitchell, not after what he did. “Is there any other—”

“You’re coming with me, Nyla,” he cut me off. “End of story. That stunt you pulled with Jordyn could possibly put you on their radar. Not sure if they’ll retaliate, but I’m not taking any chances.”

I looked over at Trevor, and my heart sank when he sighed. “I’m sorry, honey, it’s for the best.”

“The best for who?” My desperation to not be watched by Mitchell fueled my anger. “Because it’s certainly not me!”

“I already told you that you were under my protection,” Mitchell reminded me. “And that you didn’t have a fuckin’ choice.”

“Nyla.” Trevor caught my attention. “I know Mitchell hurt you.” My eyes slammed shut, flattening my lips to prevent them from wobbling. I knew what he was going to tell me, and it was nothing I wanted to hear. “Your safety matters more than your pride. You have a good life ahead of you; don’t let it be in jeopardy for reasons beyond your control. They hurt you in the past, but don’t let their actions decide your future. You have a lot at stake here.”

I thought about nursing school and following my grandma’s legacy of helping others. I couldn’t do that if I was dead. Trevor and his stupid wisdom. I was pissed off because I knew he was right; I just didn’t want him to be. I just wanted to go, to never see any of these men in their stupidly attractive leather vests and beards and muscles ever again.

“So you’re saying I should go with Mitchell? Why can’t I go with you?”

“It’ll be hard for me to guard Oakley and Claudia, as well as you. It’s safer to go with Mitchell, or any other brother.”

“You won’t be going with anyone but me,” Mitchell ground out, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I huffed out a shaky breath. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want to be safe.”

I felt everyone’s eyes on me, even the brute in the corner with his blood-stained bat. I didn’t have a choice. I knew I didn’t from the start, but the stupid optimistic hope in me was telling me other things. I had to stop that—being optimistic got me nothing but a stagnate life and crushed by the first person who showed me a taste of the real word.

I sighed, defeated. “Fine.”

“Good.” Everyone stood, ready to get out of this tense atmosphere. Darrell looked at Joslyn, though he was talking to all of us. “Remember, we’ll always be watching. You girls can’t eat or sleep without someone having their eyes and ears on you.” He smirked at the fear that brought to all of us. “Always watching.”

I was beyond ready to get out of this clubhouse. “So, we’re free to go?”

Darrell nodded. “Mitchell’s your ward; he’ll do with you what he sees fit.”

That thought of being around the person I wanted to be around the least pissed me off. “He doesn’t own me.”

Mitchell smirked knowingly. “Gonna make me say it again, pretty girl? How much I own you, in front of Trevor, no less?”

“Saying it over and over again doesn’t make it true.”

“Doing it over and over again does, though.”

I wanted to break his nose, consequences be damned.

“What’s going to happen to my sister?” Joslyn asked in a small voice, effectively ending my petty squabble with Mitchell.

Darrell’s silence told us all we needed to know, but that wasn’t good enough for Joslyn.

“I have one condition if I’m going to help you with the Bloods.” Joslyn looked Darrell in the eye, her eyes blazing with determination.

“Oh?” Darrell chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re not in the position to be making demands, sweetheart.”

“Neither are you.” My stomach tightened, afraid of what Darrell would do to Joslyn if she kept up this uncanny behavior of hers.

“What are you proposing?” I was surprised he was even listening to her. Darrell seemed like he was the ‘my way or the highway’ type of guy.

“I’ll help in exchange for my sister’s freedom. I want to atone for my sin, but I can’t atone for it if she’s… if she’s…”

“Dead.” Joslyn couldn’t say it, but the man from the corner sure could.

“Thank you for your contribution to the conversation, V,” Darrell deadpanned before giving Joslyn his attention again. “I’ll consider it. Your sister and her associates aren’t quite free to leave just yet, but you are.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m giving you a little more leash than I give most people, but don’t think you’re off it yet. I’m usually not wrong, and your willingness to help tells me you’re not involved with them. But if I am wrong, and I find out you’re helping them…?” Darrell’s crazed smile returned. “Well, sweetheart, then you won’t get your chance at atoning your sins.”

Die. Joslyn would die.

Sarge’s viscous growl went ignored. He knew what Darrell’s definition of saved was, and I was quickly learning what it meant as well. Joslyn nodded. “I understand. Thank you for listening to me.”

“What did you do to your hand?” Trevor’s question cut through the tension in the room.

I sheepishly answered him, “I broke Jordyn’s nose.”

He groaned. “What a fucking day.”

“So, we’re free to leave?” Joslyn asked with a small voice.

Darrell nodded. “You’re free to leave the clubhouse, not free from us.”

“We’re going to need to be next week.” I didn’t care about rowdy bikers; they wouldn’t keep me from running Grandma’s fundraiser. “Oakley and I run a fundraiser for the homeless and domestic shelters in town. All the vendors are committed and if we don’t show up, they’ll question it.”

“We’ll be attending it with you, then.”

“Like hell you are!” I snapped at him. Dangerous motorcycle club president or not, he was not ruining this day for me. “Those women have been through enough shit with men who look like you, and I refuse to let them be subjugated to something that could trigger them.”

A delusive smile adorned Darrell’s mouth. “Carly already approved. Have you checked your vendors? We’re already scheduled to be there.”

That shut me up. I’d been too busy with Mitchell that I hadn’t even bothered to check in on who the vendors were, leaving that responsibility to Carly, the event committee coordinator of the shelters.

“Can’t be too hard on her, Prez.” I didn’t have to look at his face to tell he was grinning. “I’ve been keeping her pretty busy—”

“Shut up, Grim,” Trevor snapped, not wanting to hear about what Mitchell and I did behind closed doors—and in hallways at house parties.

“Why do they call you Grim?” Joslyn inquired. “I thought your name was Mitchell.”

“It’s my road name.”

She blinked. “Road name?”

“We go by road names; helps protect our identities. We don’t tell many people our real names,” Darrell confirmed. “Our monikers resonate with us. We’re given them because it describes who we are, what we’ve done.”

I turned to Darrell. “How come you don’t have one?”

“Don’t want one.” He said it in a way I knew he wasn’t going to expand on it. “But we’ll be attending that fundraiser, and believe it or not, those women and children won’t be scared by us.”

I narrowed my eyes skeptically. “How can you be so sure?”

“You’ll find out next week.”

The finality of his tone indicated he was as done with the conversation as I was with this situation. I knew I didn’t have a choice; they’d be joining us for the most important day of the year for me.

And I wasn’t looking forward to it.

CHAPTER 13

Mitchell

“S arge.” The man in question looked over at Prez. “If Joslyn’s okay with it, do you mind giving her a ride home?”

I knew Prez was testing Sarge’s uncanny behavior toward her. After our brother’s outburst today and yesterday, it was only natural. The brother refused to be touched by anyone, even going as far as bloodying people just for brushing up against him. But what Prez didn’t see was when Joslyn tripped the day before, and how Sarge willingly caught her.

He willingly let her touch him.

This was a side of Sarge we haven’t seen in all our years knowing him.

Whenever a woman did that in the past—accidentally or trying to get his attention—he’d let them fall. He doesn’t care about anyone but the brothers in this club, and sometimes that was even up for debate.

Sarge looked at her, gauging her reaction, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. This whole situation had her on edge, and understandably so. My brother was not a soft man, in looks or personality. I’ve heard that whatever he hid beneath that hood of his gave chills. Just like V’s surgical mask, Sarge never took off his hood.

Joslyn catching his attention could either go really well…

Or really, really bad.

I was betting on the latter.

“I, uh…” she stuttered. I had to give it to her, despite how afraid she must be, she still managed to smile at him. The way she stood up to Prez earlier, bargaining with him for her sister’s freedom, told me she was one tough chick, despite the soft look she gave. “S-sure.”

He nodded, wordlessly going to the door. For someone who got pissy whenever someone called her a pet name, he sure had no qualms about leaving her side. I didn’t know his past with women, except that he hadn’t paid attention to any female, except for Joslyn, since I’ve known him.

Watching Sarge with her will be very interesting.

“Wait!” Nyla shouted. “Can we still see each other during all of this?”

“Of course,” Darrell reassured her. “We’d never keep you away from one another; it’d raise suspicions if they had someone spying on you three. But you need to always have a brother with you.”

She turned to Trevor. “What about work?”

“Same thing. You’ll all work the same shifts, and a brother will be posted in the shop at all times.”

“I only work at my mom’s store whenever she’s short-staffed or busy,” Oakley explained.

“Where do you mainly work, then?”

“I have my own bakery business.” Her face flamed, turning self-conscious, though I was not sure why. Running your own business—no matter what it was or where it was run from—was an incredible achievement. “I run it from mine and Nyla’s kitchen.”

“Impressive.” It was rare for Prez to praise someone outside of the MC, though I guess since Law was part of the MC, it meant Oakley was by association, too. “You’re Law’s kid, which means you’re under every brother’s protection now. You ever need something and Law ain’t available, you come to one of us.”

Her face twisted as if she just ate something sour. I doubted she would ever come to anyone besides Law for help. Our ruthless world was a lot to take in, and Prez was right, it was only a matter of time before she got involved in the wrong way. Our lives were dangerous; we had enemies who would do whatever it took to get revenge on us—even going as far as taking out our loved ones. Which, from what it sounded like, whoever the Bloods were working for was doing for their unwilling participants.

I looked at Prez, finding his eyes glued on how Trevor was with Oakley. There was an unmistakable longing in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t even know where my daughter is.”

His words left a mark on me. I’ve known him for the better part of a decade, and that was the most he’d ever revealed about his past. The fact he admitted he had a daughter was hard to wrap my mind around. He carried his sin as well as ours, and God knows how heavy it was. He was only forty years old, but the weight of everything made him look more like a silver fox.

I could tell whatever happened to his daughter was part of his sin, and I could only imagine how it fucked him up every day.

There was a growl from right next to me, bringing me out of my thoughts. Seeing it was Law, I raised an eyebrow. “What are you growling at?”

“What do you think you’re looking at?”

His question wasn’t aimed at me, so I was slightly confused when I saw he directed his question at V. V minded his business most of the time, only caring when there was violence involved. He gave no one his time or attention, ever. That’s why when he answered, it felt like Hell might’ve actually frozen over.

“Your daughter.”

The vein in Law’s throat throbbed, threatening to burst. “Why are you looking at her?”

“I like looking at pretty things.”

Well, fuck. Were we in the Twilight Zone? What was up with all the brothers losing their character over women? Not that I had room to talk—Nyla threw me for a fucking loop, too—but at least I wasn’t unhinged like V was. He rivaled with Hex for being our most ruthless brother, but at least Hex had somewhat of a conscious, and this sick fuck didn’t. The things he did to our enemies could have filled it’s own true crime series.

If Law’s daughter wasn’t in the room, I honestly thought he would have throttled him, or at least tried to. V was one tough bastard. He and Sarge were our top fighters, and I’ve never seen them lose a fight to anyone—especially with Friend, V’s beloved baseball bat.

Oakley looked at V curiously, her face red from crying or the attention on her, I wasn’t not sure. Law seemed to notice her looking at him, and hissed through clenched teeth, “One more rule for you, Oakley. You’re not allowed to date anyone in this club.”

“You don’t have to worry about me dating ever again, Dad.” Her somber admittance told me she’d been through some hardship. I’m sure Trevor was protective of her before whatever incident she went through, but afterward, I’m surprised he even allowed her to get an apartment with Nyla.

V shot up from his seat, almost knocking it to the ground and drawing everyone’s attention to him. “What’s your deal?”

His eyes were still trained on Oakley, his black surgical mask moving with the force of his mouth. “Someone hurt her.”

My eyes widened; not only was his protectiveness of Oakley concerning, but that was the most V had ever spoken to us since he joined years ago. He joined us when he was just fifteen, and starting out, Prez just showed up with him, and just like a loyal dog, he never left.

“That’s none of your business.” I was concerned about the brain aneurysm he was going to have with how tight his jaw was and how red his face had grown. “Let’s go, Oakley.”

Oakley was frozen in her spot, her pale skin even whiter as she looked at V. I could tell this poor woman was petrified of violence. She was born into the wrong family, and worse, she caught the attention of the most dangerous brother possible.

I may have been a monster, but V was the Devil himself, and it seemed like he had his sights set on little Oakley.

What makes you think you’re any better than V? What makes you think that Nyla doesn’t view you as the Devil? Because she does; she hates you and she will never forgive you for what you’ve done.

“Oakley.” Trevor was firmer in calling her name, making her break eye contact with the Devil. “Let’s go.”

“O-okay.” I could tell she was a shy thing. She was shaking like a leaf when she answered the door the night I first fucked Nyla. I invited myself in, and she didn’t even try to fight it; instead, she ran to the other room, letting me do whatever I wanted. I’d been pissed at first, since it seemed like she would just let anyone in, but then I realized she only let me in because Nyla trusted me—despite multiple warnings for her not to.

My sweet, naïve Nyla… If I were any other man, who led a simpler life, things would be so different between us.

But I was nothing if not for my sins that would eventually land me in the unmarked grave I’d made for myself that night when I was twenty years old.

Oakley was shivering like a leaf walking out the door with Law, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes in the room. I almost felt sorry for the girl, wondering what happened to her that made her so scared. As they left the room, V wasn’t far behind, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Where are you going?”

He looked back at us briefly while still walking out of the room. “Stalking.”

He didn’t spare us another glance as he followed them. At least he was honest, I guess. Should we give Law a warning that V was going to be following them? I smirked inwardly, deciding against it. Where would the fun be in that? Besides, Law was smart—he was a lawyer for fuck’s sake. He’d figure it out.

“Do all of you just see a woman and then have to go caveman on her?” Nyla muttered under her breath, obviously displeased with V’s aggression. My mouth twitched. She wanted me to pursue her, and that pursuit ended up with me doing the chasing instead. If she only fuckin’ believed what I told her the day we met, then she wouldn’t be a part of this mess.

But that also meant she wouldn’t be part of my life—something I couldn’t picture anymore. She’d ingrained her way into my bones, piercing herself there so I could feel the effects she has on me. Even though we hadn’t known each other long, I just connected with Nyla in a way I had thought was gone for me. She calmed me, seeing past my sins to the man I was meant to be. And now that I got a taste of that, I knew I wasn’t strong enough to quit her.

“Let’s go,” Sarge barked, apparently out of patience. Joslyn tucked a blond strand behind her ear before rushing to Nyla, giving her a long hug. They whispered something I couldn’t make out before she walked out the door, with Sarge following at a respectable distance.

Then there were three. Prez looked every bit of his forty years, rubbing his temples. “What a fucking weekend.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” I grumbled back, facing Nyla. She looked defeated, not making eye contact with us. “You ready to go, pretty girl?”

She looked at me skeptically. “Where are we going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Away from you.”

I laughed at her sharp tongue. Damn if it wasn’t sexy. “Besides that.”

“I’m gonna go and let you two get more… acquainted.” Bastard already knew we were more than acquainted—not like I kept it a secret. I wasn’t ashamed of fuckin’ Nyla, never will be. Besides, I wasn’t exactly trying to hide my lustful stares toward her—especially when she was still wearing my shirt, knowing she had nothing but that skimpy top and my dried come between her legs underneath.

I didn’t like the way Prez kept stealing glances at Nyla. It wasn’t full of attraction or lust; no, it was like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He snuck subtle peeks at her—you would’ve missed it unless you had been paying close attention. Hell, I don’t even think Nyla’s noticed it.

Darrell watched out for the club, and I watched out for him. You could say he was my best friend, and he would say he had no best friend, but I knew I was his.

“I’m gonna go finish some business.” He was vague, not wanting to disclose that he was more than likely going to torture some information out of the Bloods in front of Nyla. “Keep me informed on what you’re gonna do.”

I nodded, not sure what I was going to do with Nyla just yet. “Let me know if you need me, Prez.”

He smirked knowingly. “Somethin’ tells me you’re the one who’s gonna be needing some help.”

No doubt about that. With Nyla’s newfound attitude, I wasn’t sure what I was in store for. He walked off, leaving Nyla and me in the interrogation room. Unlike the past week, the silence between us was unpleasant. Before, our silence was filled with moans and rough pants, but now…? Now there was absolutely nothing except the sound of her swaying uneasily in my presence.

Something I had warned her about with words, but actually seeing it was something I didn’t like one bit.

“Where are you going to take me?”

I blinked. “What?”

She huffed a frustrated breath, having no qualms about showing me her sassy side. “I already told you where I wanted to go, but just like everything else, you’re going to take control.”

“You love when I take control, pretty girl.” Satisfaction flooded me as her cheeks tinged with color. “But seriously, you’re going back to your apartment.” I paused, wanting to see her reaction. As expected, she visibly relaxed, probably thinking our watchful eye would be from afar. Her relief would be short-lived, though. “To pack some things, because you’re going home with me,” I clarified, and she deflated.

She flinched, eyes narrowed and cheek twitching. “I don’t want to live with you.”

I shrugged. “Don’t care what you want.” I got her involved with a life she never knew existed, which now meant life or death for her. Certain death if she was away from me, and the Bloods or worse, the Flock, got their hands on her. “Your safety means more to me than that.”

I could tell she wanted to argue, biting that pretty bottom lip to prevent herself from lashing out at me. If she wants bruised lips, I’d gladly bruise them myself.

“Should I even argue?” She sighed with defeat, but it didn’t feel like a victory for me. “You’re just going to get me to do whatever you want, no matter how much I fight.”

“Now you’re learning.” I cackled, earning a glare. Her silver eyes looked lighter when there was a fire lit in them, making them that much more memorizing. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” Her determination was cute, but unnecessary. I loved to bend her will, but I’d never force her to sleep with me. Tease her? Try to coerce her? Sure, maybe. But never force.

I shrugged. “I’ll get you back in my bed one day, pretty girl.”

She huffed, turning on her heel, not bothering to wait on me before walking toward the door. “Don’t count on it.”

My lips twitched as I followed her out of the room.

Challenge accepted.

“Welcome home.” I opened the door, holding her luggage that she protested when I grabbed from her hands when we exited the car. I could be a gentleman when I wanted to be, and that meant she didn’t carry her luggage or open doors.

“Not home,” she scoffed. “This is just a house I’m being forced to stay in.”

“You can try to run,” I mused, “but I’ll always catch you.”

“I’m smart enough to know that I’m caught in a dangerous situation,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I would very much like to survive.”

A brief thought crossed my mind of Nyla being dead, buried six feet under, and a heavy throb where my heart used to be startled me. “I’m not gonna let you die, Nyla.”

“Physically, maybe,” she muttered under her breath, thinking I couldn’t hear her, but I did. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

That may be the truth. She could’ve gone back to her apartment, had another brother watch over her, but I wouldn’t have allowed it. It was either I was with her, or she was with me. Always.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I’ll order us some food?” I offered. I never had another woman in my home; usually when I was with them, it was for the night and that was that. No names, no numbers, no complications. I never offered them anything but some quick, dirty fun. But here I was with Nyla, offering to buy her dinner and give her my guest bedroom. It might’ve been for obligation this time, but it wasn’t the week prior. I actually enjoyed being with her at night, waking up to her in my bed in the morning. Who would’ve thought I’d be a sucker for a girl?

A girl whose life you’ve ruined…

The dark thought entered without permission, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. I may have ruined her life—gotten into her heap of shit she would never deserve—but monsters like me protected our treasure.

“Don’t care.” She obviously wasn’t in the mood for conversation, not that I blamed her, but it also wouldn’t stop me from trying to talk to her. I didn’t want her forgiveness; I just wanted her near me.

She dissipated the dark thoughts swirling through my head, and it was nice to get away from them, even if it was only for a few moments. I took in her rough appearance. She had showered, replacing the shirt—which, she cut up and threw the pieces at me—with an oversized sweatshirt and jeans in an attempt to hide her body. I already knew what was beneath the baggy clothing, so it didn’t make her any less enticing to me.

“Can I just ask you something?”

I glanced at her, suspecting what she was going to ask since we were alone for the first time since the party. “What’s that?”

“Why?” What a loaded question that was. “Why did you have to do this?”

The darkness crept into my mind. I couldn’t tell her everything; I didn’t want to give her the nightmares I was plagued with from it. “You wouldn’t understand, pretty girl. And if you did, you wouldn’t be able to sleep for weeks.”

“I understand these Cardinal Bloods are scum—the little you’ve told us about them is more than enough to rationalize that. How did you get involved?”

She really wasn’t going to like my answer. “That’s club business.”

“How is it club business when I’m involved?”

“We had to check every avenue. We had to be sure you didn’t know anything about them.” I sighed, the truth bitter on my lips. Even if I hadn’t seen Nyla with Joslyn that day, I still don’t think I could’ve stayed away from her. And eventually, I would’ve left a hole in her heart that nothing could ever refill. At least this way she wouldn’t mourn—no, she would celebrate—and that’s all I wanted for her. “Being with me means I can’t tell you everything, babe. Some things are strictly between the brothers.”

“I don’t want to be with you.”

Hearing those words had a more profound effect on me than I liked to admit, a crazed sensation flooding my mind. The thought of Nyla not being by my side could drive me to lunacy. “You act like you have a choice.”

“I do,” she gritted. “And I’m not choosing you.”

“Nice try, pretty girl.” I walked over to her, making her look up at me with my fingers under her chin, tilting her head up. Her eyes held fury with a hint of curiosity. She wasn’t pulling away, but instead, trying to anticipate my next move. “You lost your choosing privileges when you picked me.”

She let out an agitated scream, something I took great pride in, before she stomped off with her luggage in tow down the hallway that led to my room, guest bedroom, and bathrooms. She stomped down the hall, going into the door at the farthest end of the hallway, slamming it shut behind her. I smirked, walking closer to the closed door before calling. “Unless you want to sleep in my bed with me, you need to go to the guest room.”

She ripped the door open, her pretty face contorted in annoyance that made me chuckle as she pushed past me, going into the guest bedroom. Slamming the door behind her yet again.

I cackled at her obvious misery and frustration, walking to the door as I opened it without warning as her luggage was on the floor and her body face first on the bedding. “I’ll let you have your space, but you leave the door open.” Her words were mumbled. “What was that?”

She snapped her head toward me, silver eyes shining from unshed tears and frustration. “Why do I have to keep it open? Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“You’re here, so you’re not alone.” And so you don’t rat us out to your father. The man hated me—and the feelings were mutual—and I hated the idea of her telling him anything about us. He’d used any excuse to drive a wedge between Nyla and me—bigger than there was between us at the moment—and I couldn’t risk her talking to him yet. I decided not to tell her that tidbit, though. “I gotta make sure you don’t make a run for it. I have censors and cameras placed in each room and outside, so I’ll know your every move. Just make it easier on yourself and leave the door open so I don’t have to look at the cameras.”

“You’re going to be watching them, anyway.”

She was right, I was. I smirked, deciding to take her bait. “Why would I watch the cameras, Nyla?”

Her face flushed with anger and slight embarrassment. “You know why. I’m not going to tell you.”

I walked toward the bed, putting one knee on the cover, dipping the mattress as I leaned into her space. “I know why. I just want to hear it out of your pretty mouth.”

I got too close to her and she did something I didn’t expect—she spit on me.

She looked at me, daring me to do something as I used my finger to wipe the spit off my face. I smirked, loving the slight fear in her eyes as she realized what she just did. “Naughty, naughty Nyla.”

My hand that was coated with her dipped into the waistband of her pants, slipping into her underwear as I reached between her legs. She tried to get away from me, thrashing, but I wouldn’t let her get away from me so easily.

No, instead I straddled her back, hovering over her with my legs tight to her sides so she couldn’t escape what I was about to do to her. My front was facing the direction of her head while my hand was behind me, still down her pants. “You shouldn’t have done that, Nyla.”

She was still squirming, and I waited for her to tell me no—because I would move if she told me no, or showed me any indication that my touch was unwanted. She may hate me right now, but I knew she still wanted me. I felt her pussy brush against my fingers with each wiggle of her hips in a futile attempt to get away from me. I took the opportunity to stroke her, even though I couldn’t see what I was doing, I knew exactly where to touch that would drive this woman under me wild with need.

Her gasp of surprised mixed with pleasure escaped her lips as I stuck the finger coated with her spit inside her, using it as lubricant to thrust my finger, twisting and soothing the edges of her cunt. Now instead of squirming, she was thrusting her hips into the mattress, trying to relieve the pressure I was building inside her.

My thumb went to her clit, and another illicit gasp passed her pretty lips involuntarily, making me want to taste the sounds that were escaping. I added another finger because if she could take my cock like a pro, then she could take at least three of my fingers no problem…

But I wasn’t here to pleasure her.

No, I was here to show her who the fuck she belonged to, and while the defiance streak she was showing me was sexy, she needed to know that shit wouldn’t be tolerated.

“This is what happens when you act out, Nyla.” I told her, loving the way her hips were moving involuntarily as I finger-fucked her. “You spit on me, and I’m going to put it to good use.”

She screamed, frustrated by the unwanted pleasure I was giving her. I felt her muscles contract around my fingers before they tightened in a strangling grip, contracting before relaxing… making them more wet than when I put them inside her just minutes earlier.

She slumped into the mattress, breathing hard at the orgasm I gave her. I pulled my hand from her panties, making sure to smear some of her come on her skin as a reminder of what I just did to her. I brought my drenched fingers to my eyes, smirking as an idea formed in my head.

I leaned down, pressing the front of my body into her back, pinning her to the mattress and bringing the coated fingers to her lips. “Suck.”

Her breath was still heavy, giving a cooling sensation on my fingers. When I realized she wasn’t going to do it willing, I took matters into my own hands. When she breathed in again, I shoved my fingers inside her mouth. She let out a surprised strangle as she tried to break free, but I placed my hand on the back of her head, preventing her from doing so. “Nuh-uh, you gave me a gift. I’m just returning the favor.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at me, pleading for me to remove my fingers, but I held my resolve. This would teach her not to spit on me again. “Lick your come off my fingers. I’m not going to tell you again, Nyla.”

Tears fell from their threshold as I felt her tongue wrap around my digits, slowly licking herself off them. I ground my hips along her back as pleasure settled into my nerves, making her up her pace to get away from me faster.

She removed her tongue from my fingers, and I was satisfied with the way she cleaned them. I pulled them out of her mouth, making sure to wipe away a tear she shed at my deplorable act. “Good girl”

She buried her head into the pillow as I got off from her, careful not to wipe the spit that coated my fingers on anything. I needed that for what I was about to do to myself…

As I began to walk out the door, I heard her pitiful cry.

“I hate you.”

Smirking, I looked over my shoulder, not affected by her feelings for me. “Good.”

It’s been three days since Nyla moved in with me…

And three days since she has left the guest bedroom.

After the finger-fuck session, she listened to my compromise with her. Giving her the space she wanted, but she had to leave the door open so I could make sure she didn’t try to escape or worse, the Bloods retaliated on Nyla.

I didn’t think that was probable since they didn’t know where I lived, unless they were dumb enough to follow me. I just didn’t think they were that stupid. I had cameras and property censors letting me know if a squirrel stepped foot in my driveway. No way a Blood would get a one-up on me.

It was currently four in the afternoon. I delivered Nyla some lunch a few hours ago, promising if she didn’t eat it, I would make her eat it. She hasn’t eaten in days—cameras showed what she did to Victoria’s food, which was absolutely criminal since Victoria was the best cook I knew—but I was more concerned with her already thin frame. I knew Nyla ate a lot before the incident; I was with her day and night to witness it, she just had a high metabolism. But when I passed by the room, she looked thinner, and I didn’t like that. At all.

Instead of dinner in bed, she would be having dinner out here with me, willingly or unwillingly.

I walked down the hallway, stopping in front of my guest bedroom door. Looking in front the doorjamb, a familiar scene of Nyla in bed, looking at the ceiling with her eyes sunken in, caught my eye.

“Nyla.” No response, no reaction. Not even a twitch or her middle finger in my direction. “Get up.”

“No.”

Her voice was hoarse from all the tears she’s shed in that bed since she’s gotten here. “It’s almost time for dinner. I’m making chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I hope you choke on them.”

Her love language toward me was adorable, making my chest rumble with laughter as I walked over to the bed. “Get that pretty ass up willingly, or I’ll be happy to throw you over my shoulder. I miss touching you so honestly, I’m hoping you don’t come willingly.”

She turned her head, sneering at me before throwing the blankets off her. “Touch me, and I promise I’ll break your cock like you broke my heart.”

“So you want to touch my cock?” I teased her, successfully pissing her off. “You owe me after the other night. I touched you, but you didn’t even attempt to touch me.”

She tensed at the memory. “I didn’t want you to touch me.”

“Your come on my fingers said otherwise,” I mused, walking over to her. “You look tense… I can help with that.”

She growled, pulling her chin from my grasp. “I told you I wasn’t going to sleep with you ever again.”

“You don’t have to like me to fuck me,” I bargained, not missing the flash of interest in her eyes. “We could have something that would benefit the both of us, with no feelings involved.”

She eyed me skeptically. “You expect me to agree to being friends with benefits?”

“You’re not my friend,” I calmly explained. I’d never, ever be just friends with a woman like Nyla. “Enemies with benefits sounds way hotter.”

Even she couldn’t deny how compatible we were in bed together. During our short time together, if she wasn’t at work and I wasn’t at the club, we were in bed. I’d never think that teaching a woman how to please me and just expect her to would be erotic. I swear, I’ve never been so turned-on when Nyla looked at me on her knees, silver eyes so eager to please me as she asked me to teach her how to get me off.

I enjoyed every second of it, and it only got better each time. My body was craving to be inside hers again, every part of me willing her to say yes.

If not? Well, I’d enjoy the chase, and in the end, I would win.

“No.”

“There’s gonna come a day when you’re gonna beg me to touch you because you’re not allowed to get off by yourself. I want you on your knees, begging for me with those pretty lips.”

“I’m not a dog, Mitchell,” she sneered.

“No, but you’re so pretty when you beg,” I countered smugly, loving the way her cheeks heated in both hatred and lust. “I won’t fuck you until you give me permission, but until then, I hope you like sexual frustration. You’ll be begging for a release on my cock sooner than you think.”

“What a gentleman,” she cooed sarcastically. I wasn’t a good man; I never have been, and I never will be. I’m glad she was finally starting to see that.

“Last chance, Nyla. Get up.”

She let out a dejected sigh, slipping from underneath the covers to reveal she still had on gray sweats and a thin blue, spaghetti strap tank top. Her nipples poked out through the barely-there fabric. She snapped her fingers, a sneer on her lips. “My face is up here.”

“I’m well aware,” I murmured, still not taking my eyes off her chest. “Just admiring the view.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing past me out of my guest bedroom, heading into my living room that was adjacent to my kitchen.

“Hungry?” I knew she was since she’d barely ate since the party.

She opened her mouth to respond when her phone blared, taking her attention off me as she pulled it out of her pocket. Looking at the screen, I could tell she was slightly distressed at who was calling. “It’s my dad… I have to answer it.”

The thought of her dad made me want to spit blood. The way he talked to her the day I met him… well, he was lucky I didn’t kill him. I could tell Nyla was nervous about talking to him, but I knew she had to. The fucker would probably call the cops if she didn’t answer, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, but I couldn’t risk her telling him the truth, either. An idea formed in my mind, a sinister idea I thought we would both enjoy.

“Answer it, pretty girl,” I purred, waltzing over and pulling her attention from the screen when my shadow enveloped her completely. “I have a game I wanna play.”

CHAPTER 14

Nyla

“I  have a game I wanna play.”

My phone was still ringing, but I wasn’t able to focus on that when the man in front of me had a mischievous grin curling his lips. Mitchell looked at me in a way that made it hard to breathe. When the phone stopped ringing, I sighed in relief until it started back up again. I managed to gulp even though my mouth was bone dry, pulling my phone out of my pocket and mentally cursing who was on the caller ID.

“It’s my dad again,” I said, distress stirring inside me. I hadn’t spoken to my dad since the day he spoke to me so harshly—his business trip kept getting extended, and I didn’t have the heart to return his texts. He hadn’t attempted to apologize for being so hurtful, but I sure as hell would try to use his call as an excuse to get Mitchell away from me. “I have to answer… He’ll get worried.”

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Mitchell’s voice was deadly calm. “You’re gonna answer but know I’m gonna be listening.” His finger brushed away a cold bead of sweat as it ran down my cheek. “You try anything funny…” He trailed his hand down my body, and I gasped as his finger slowed when it passed my breast, putting pressure in his pursuit as it brushed my nipple before slowly resting his hand on my thigh. “Well, I think you’ll like the consequences.”

My mind went back to his previous weeks, thinking about the sexual punishments he constantly threatened me with. The allure of disobeying to experience the unknown was once very appealing, but with everything that’d happened over the past few days, I wasn’t sure I’d survive Mitchell’s idea of punishment. My mind then snapped to a few days ago, when Mitchell had pinned me down on the bed, finger-fucking me until I came on his fingers. I knew spitting on him would get a reaction, and maybe that was what I was going for. What I didn’t expect was how, when he was on top of me, I didn’t want him to get off. I wanted to feel his weight on me, just to know he was still there somewhere. I wanted his fingers inside me, if only to allow my traitorous body a chance to feel him again—because I couldn’t allow myself to accept that our last time together was against a dirty wall at that disgusting party. Did I hate Mitchell for breaking me heart? Of course. But did I also want Mitchell with every fiber of my being.

Unfortunately, yes.

But still. I didn’t know this side of Mitchell, and I had no idea if my Mitchell would ever come back. Did I want my Mitchell’s sexual punishments. God, yes. But I wasn’t sure what this Mitchell, the dangerous VP of a club, had in mind… I might just not survive it.

Death by sexual punishment at the hands of a rugged hot biker was a good way to go, right?

My phone started ringing again as I looked at the devious grin on his face. Was he daring me to misbehave? I bit my lip. I wasn’t supposed to react this way to him. Our conversation still weighed in my mind. He technically didn’t lie to me, but he got me caught up in a part of his life I didn’t want to be in. I should be punishing him for that, right? I didn’t have time to think about it more as my phone rang for a third time.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” I hissed, trying my best to maneuver away from him, but he overpowered me to the point where my squirming was child’s play to him. The arrogant smirk on his lips fueled the fire in me more, but if I didn’t answer my phone soon, Dad would send a search party out for me. I snarled at him as my phone stopped ringing, only to pick back up again for a fourth time.

“Answer it, pretty girl.” His large hand rubbed my thigh, ignoring my words, the implications of what he wanted to do to me very clear. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

With my narrowed glare still on him, I knew I couldn’t let it go to voicemail again without an all-out war with Dad. I had no doubt he would track me here, unless they had something blocking the location—which, I presumed they did. Even then, if Dad showed up, I knew he wouldn’t survive.

Trying to ignore his touch, I pressed talk. “Hello?”

“Christ, Nyla, where the hell have you been?” Dad roared over the phone. I resisted the urge to flinch at his tone, chalking his behavior up as concern yet again. My dad never raised his voice at me unless he was worried, and I hadn’t talked to him since his fight with Mitchell. I had no time to think about his words or how he hurt me; I had other things to worry about, like the fact that I was about to break Mitchell’s hand if he didn’t get it off my thigh.

“Oakley and I went to a party—” I gasped as Mitchell forcibly spread my legs, a smirk on his lips as if telling me to keep it up. “Where her favorite author was signing books. She didn’t want to go alone, so I went with her,” I lied through my teeth. “S-sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me next time, or at least, send a text. You’ve been leaving me on read since my… disagreement with your boyfriend.” I had to stop myself from scoffing at the fact that their disagreement was way more than that or calling Mitchell my boyfriend, I wasn’t sure. I looked down at the person in question, who was still crouched between my legs, waiting with a lopsided grin, daring me to mess up. The fact that he didn’t seem apologetic for what he told me didn’t go unnoticed, either. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine—” My breath hitched as I felt the button of my jeans pop open. I shot a menacing look at Mitchell, but he just smirked, looking into my eyes as he slid the zipper down.

“Where are you now?”

I wracked my brain for what to say. Should I attempt to tell him the truth, or should I continue to lie? The way Mitchell was looking at me, I was pretty sure he was going to do whatever he wanted, whether I told the truth or not. “Still on the road coming back. I was in a dead area, that’s why I didn’t answer earlier.”

Disappointment filled me without reason when Mitchell began to push my zipper back up. “When will you be back home?”

If Mitchell thought playing with my heart was a fun game, then I was going to play a game of my own—with his lustful intentions. “A few hours. Then I’m meeting up with Mitchell—”

“Lift your hips or I’ll lift them myself.” I nearly melted at his dirty command as he pulled my zipper down again. I prayed my dad didn’t hear his hushed words. I was humiliated, more so when I listened to him to avoid more suspicion from my dad, and not because I wanted to feel his hands between my thighs. His hands went to the inside of my jeans, slowly pushing the fabric down my thighs. I sat my ass back on the table as soon as he got them down far enough, regretting it when the cool wood of his kitchen table made me hiss.

“Why are you still with him?”

“Because I want to be—” The lie that came out of my mouth didn’t feel good, but Mitchell’s hands drifted to my crotch, rubbing a finger against the scrap of underwear over my slit, the added texture making it hard not to moan. He removed one of his hands, bringing a finger to his lips, signaling for me to be quiet as he continued his motions.

My dad was quiet on the other side of the line, making me doubt he believed my lie. After all, I’ve never been good at lying. “Nyla? You sure you’re good?”

“Y-yeah, Dad.” The pressure was building in my core as I took deep, steadying breaths so I didn’t pant like a dog over the phone. “I’m just fine.”

“Okay,” he drawled. “We still need to talk about some things…”

That was an understatement. It seemed like Mitchell was already done with his game as he pulled my panties to one side. I sucked in a breath when his skin made contact with my sensitive flesh—even more so when he put the softest bit of pressure on my opening, my arousal coating his fingers.

“What?” I was surprised at how clearly it sounded, considering Mitchell’s skilled finger rubbing the entrance of my slit. I had to bite back a moan as he removed his fingers before putting it close to his lips, his tongue slowly swirling around the digits, making sure to never break eye contact with me.

My face flushed, heat radiating to every nerve in my body seeing him in such an erotic state.

“The way we left things between us. And Rand—” I didn’t let him finish as Mitchell removed his fingers from his mouth, coated in a mixture of me and him. He didn’t waste any time before plunging them inside me, officially taking over any logical part in my brain.

“I’ll call you later. Another dead area.” I dropped my phone onto the table, hoping I hit the end call button, but beyond caring if I did. All plans to play with Mitchell’s lust flew out the window when his fingers entered my pussy. I let out the moan I was holding back, giving into the pleasure Mitchell was giving me. I decided to throw back at his ego like he did with mine. “You know, you weren’t doing a good job if I could still form a coherent sentence—”

“Say that again, pretty girl,” he challenged, curling his fingers inside me, rubbing against my walls with more force, effectively taking all the words from me. “Couldn’t hear you over the way I’m taking your breath away.”

I still felt like I could talk, so I used it to my advantage. “I said—”

Cue his calloused fingers covered in my arousal entering my mouth, his hot breath steady on my core. He looked up, daring me to speak. “Keep it up, pretty girl. I still have more ways I could shut you up with, and I’ll enjoy every single one of them.”

I narrowed my eyes, watching his pupils dilate when I wrapped my tongue around his fingers in the way he showed me how to do on his cock. He may have given up on his little temptress game, but I was just getting started. My body wasn’t giving in to his, my hate was.

At least, that’s what I reasoned with myself.

Your life’s going to hell, Nyla. Might as well have a pleasurable experience on the way down.

I nipped the tip of his fingers, earning a growl. “Just know, if you’re going to bite me, pretty girl, that I bite back.”

I bit down on his knuckle, daring him to retaliate.

And retaliate, he did.

His mouth didn’t go where I wanted, shooting straight for my hip, his teeth biting down hard enough to leave a mark. I yelped, his fingers shooting out of my mouth as my head dipped down. His eyes never strayed from mine as he soothed the bite with his talented tongue. He dragged his lips up, teeth grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt and dragging it up with him, exposing my bra as he stood. The size of my breasts wouldn’t hold the fabric up, so with his other hand, he pulled my head through the neck opening, leaving the rest hanging on my shoulders before dragging the cups of my bra down, exposing my breasts to him. “You have the prettiest tits.” His lips went to my neck, sucking the skin fervently.

But it wasn’t enough for me; he wasn’t touching me enough. I bucked my hips, hoping he would get the message—and I knew he did when I felt his cocky smirk against my skin. “Impatient aren’t we, pretty girl?”

I didn’t respond; instead, I made a sound between a moan and whine. I didn’t know, I just wanted his fingers—or any other part—inside me. Now.

“Tell me what I want to hear.”

“What?”

“Tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll put my fingers where you want them to be.”

My mind couldn’t comprehend anything but need. Trying to wrack my brain to figure out what he was talking about, it hit me.

“I won’t fuck you until you give me permission. I want to know you want me.”

And I wanted him. I ached for him.

Apparently, I took too long to respond because his hushed voice floated in my ear. “Come on, pretty girl, tell me what I want to hear.”

I wanted to be stubborn, wanted to get away from him. But unfortunately, my desire for him outweighed any sensible part of my need to be away from him. “I give you permission.”

“Permission to do what?” This man was an absolute bastard. More than anything, I wanted to rip off that arrogant smirk he was sporting. “I don’t know what you’re giving me permission to do, pretty girl.”

“Fingers,” I panted as his spit-covered fingers brushed over my exposed nipples. “Please, use your fingers.”

“Where?”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Mitchell, I swear to God if you don’t put your fingers in my cunt, I will close my legs and you’ll never get them back open!”

“Not even God could keep me from this pretty cunt.” Crying out as he did what I asked, the pressure building in my core was spreading to every nerve in my body. I began to grind against his fingers, adding to my own pleasure, and I reached up and tangled my fingers in his blond locks. I tugged at his strands, trying to relieve some of the pressure and loving the vibrations of his growl against my skin. “That’s right, get yourself off on your man’s fingers.”

“You’re not my man,” I groaned stubbornly, rolling my hips to get him as deep as possible.

“Yes, I am,” he growled. “Where are my fingers at, Nyla? Would they be this deep inside you if I wasn’t your man?”

To prove his point, it almost felt like he was trying to shove himself knuckle-deep inside me, a slightly painful feeling. I needed an outlet, and since his head was buried in my neck, my hand reached up to his locks again, pulling the strands until he hissed with pain. I wasn’t sure what he’d done to make me feel confident enough to hurt him in the bare minimal of ways, but I liked it.

“If you’re gonna pull my hair…” He pulled his face back, taking his free hand and tangling it in my hair, tugging and earning a gasp of pleasure from me. “Just know I’m gonna pull right back. It seems my pretty girl has a dirty side, don’t you?” When I couldn’t answer him, his grip became tighter, and his eyes glossed over in lust. “Answer. Me.”

“Yes!”

“Only for me, right?” When I didn’t respond quickly enough, he growled, “Only. For. Me.”

“Only for you, Mitchell,” I whimpered, feeling his fingers scissor my opening, stretching me deliciously. I almost came undone as his thumb began to flick my clit. I wanted to ride my orgasmic wave; I was so close—

He withdrew his fingers, earning an offended gasp from me. “What are you doing?”

He licked my arousal from his fingers, his eyes shining playfully. “Told you there’d be consequences. When are you gonna start believing me?”

My mouth clamped shut, teeth sinking into my lip almost painfully as I tried to deny the throbbing between my legs. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of how much his orgasm denial was getting to me. I wanted to get the job done myself, but I knew the bastard would get off on that, so I lived with the ache. For now, anyway.

“And let me tell you,” he sang, “I know what you’re doing at all times. If you touch yourself to finish the job…? Then I’ll make this consequence seem like child’s play.” He threw me a smirk over his shoulder. “I’ll be waiting for you to fuck up, pretty girl.”

He walked out of the kitchen, making me scream in frustration. Even when I said otherwise, this man still owned me, body and soul. I felt like I truly tethered my soul to a monster.

Hopefully, I’d find a way to get off its leash.

“Hey, beaut.” Victoria’s kind smile greeted Mitchell and me as we walked through the door of her house.

After my very frustrating night with Mitchell, Darrell called the next morning and told him they had church—whatever that was—and that Victoria would be watching us at her home during it. I hated feeling like a prisoner, and it was especially awkward since we haven’t had a lot of contact with Victoria besides us ignoring her meals a few days ago.

Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to being babysat by her, but a break from Mitchell would do me good. Besides, I missed Oakley and Joslyn. Our group text was just one-worded text messages, all of us busy processing the way our lives were changing—not to mention all our text messages and calls were monitored by someone at the club.

Walking inside the house, I saw a girl I hadn’t seen before. She was looking at the wine circling her glass, deep in thought. She had short, dirty blonde, curly hair, which looked unkempt and frizzy. She turned when she heard our footsteps, her brown eyes widening when she saw us. “Hey, Lib. How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” Her answer to Mitchell’s question was soft.

I heard him sigh from beside me before he asked Victoria, “You good, Vic? Need anything?”

“I need you to leave,” she shot back at him. “It’s a girls’ day, and the last I checked, you’re seriously lacking in the estrogen department.”

He laughed—actually laughed—at her, making something akin to jealously swirl in my gut. “Thanks for noticing I’m a man, Vic.”

“You’re useless like one.” She grinned at him, clearly teasing him. “Go do your manly things; I’ll take care of your girl.”

I opened my mouth to correct her, but Mitchell spoke before me. “Appreciate you. Dunno how long church will be, but Prez thinks it’ll do the girls some good if you explained some aspects of the club.”

Just being around the big bikers for the short amount of time I was, I could tell they did a lot of things behind the scenes, out of the public eye.

I just didn’t think I wanted to know what they did behind the scenes.

“I’ll be back for you later.” I felt his eyes on me for a long moment, but I refused to look at him. “What? Not gonna kiss me goodbye?”

“No.” My answer didn’t stop him from leaning in, causing me to turn my head at the last second, his lips hitting my cheek instead. “Wardens aren’t supposed to have relations with their prisoners.”

He leaned in close, his hot breath against my ear. “Forget what we did last night? You were begging me to touch your cunt.”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. His lips dragged down to my cheek, leaving a kiss as his chuckle vibrated against my skin. “Lovin’ this snark in you, pretty girl.”

He stood up straight, turning to Victoria once again. “If you need anythin’, just call, Vic.”

She nodded. “You know I will. Don’t get in too much trouble.”

He huffed an amusing breath. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I ignored the feeling of his eyes as he left, not bothering to turn back. Instead, I took in Victoria’s joyful look. Just like Joslyn, she lit up a room with just being in it.

“He calls you pretty girl?” she cooed. “That’s so cute!”

“It used to be,” I grumbled. I didn’t know how I felt about it now. Before the party, it made me feel like I was special to him, but now, it was just a reminder of what was. Of how stupid I was for listening but not hearing his warnings.

A knock at the door distracted Victoria. I thought she would go over and answer it, but instead she just shouted, “Come in!”

Oakley rushed in the door, not waiting for Joslyn, who walked in behind her at a much slower pace. Sarge stood just outside the doorway, his dark hood still covering his face and his cut-off hoodie showed off his scarred right arm. Joslyn turned to him. “Thank you for the ride.”

He made no attempt to respond; instead, he stared for a minute longer before turning his back and walking away without another word. Victoria chuckled from my side. “That’s Sarge for you, silent as ever. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m not,” Oakley muttered as she came to my side while Joslyn turned, a smile lighting up her face. I was relieved to see her familiar smile, but it could be a ruse for all I knew. I wasn’t good at spotting things lately. She turned to Libby, who was still sitting on the couch, looking at us but not interacting.

“Hey there, are you a friend of the club’s?”

“You can say that.” Her vague, monotone answer left for questions. Joslyn was just trying to be friendly, but Libby seemed extremely introverted. No doubt Joslyn would try to break her out of her shell—that’s just how she was.

“Don’t mind her,” Victoria interjected. “That’s Libby; she helps bartend and clean after the brothers. She’s not a talker, but I promise, she’s really nice. You just gotta get to know her first.”

Libby sucked down the rest of her wine, then stood. “Do you have more wine?”

She snorted in response. “Do I have wine? Girl, please. If I don’t have wine in the fridge, consider me dead.”

“How many glasses am I getting?”

“I need alcohol to calm my nerves.” I told her.

“I don’t want anything.” I looked at Oakley in concern. She struggled to eat or drink on a good day, and when she was stressed, it was a lot worse.

“I don’t drink,” Joslyn told her. She never has since the day I met her. She always said she didn’t like the taste, but I saw her steal glances at our wineglasses on our girls’ nights.

Libby walked off, leaving us alone in awkward silence with Victoria. “How are you guys doing?”

That was difficult to answer, but apparently, not for Joslyn. “It’s been… weird.”

“They still haven’t let your sister come home?” Vic asked, and Joslyn solemnly shook her head.

“Do you still feel like someone is watching you?” I was more concerned with that than I was with Jordyn.

This time she nodded. “That hasn’t gone away.”

“Isn’t a brother suppose to be watching you?” Victoria asked, accepting the glass of wine from Libby as she sat down, placing mine and Oakley’s glasses on the table.

“I don’t know… They said I was suppose to have someone watching me, but maybe they changed their mind? The Bloods might be watching my house.” She shrugged, resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her palms. “But I felt like someone was watching me before everything happened. I’ve been trying to leave my hearing in aids later, but my ears are just so sore.”

I frowned, trying to think of a solution, but I knew it was these men’s way or the highway. I didn’t want to make things worse for her. “Sarge hasn’t been around?”

She rolled her eyes. “If he is, I can’t see him. All I know is he grunts, and I think he stares at me, but who even knows if that’s true? I’ve never seen his eyes.”

“None of us have seen his eyes, either. Never takes that damn hood off,” Victoria explained, a fond smile tinting her lips. “All the brothers have weird quirks, but that’s what makes ‘em so special.”

“He was tense when he drove me home on the back of his bike the other day.”

Victoria choked on her wine, and even Libby’s eyes widened slightly. “He let you touch him?”

“Yes?” she squeaked, not knowing if it was a good or bad thing.

“That’s gold.” Victoria grinned from ear to ear. “I never heard of him willingly touching anyone before. He’s gotten into fist fights with people bumping into him at bars.”

Joslyn looked at her warily, like she didn’t believe her. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah, it’s bad. He’s banned from some bars, but he only goes out with us when he’s forced—which, admittedly, isn’t often. He’s not a people person.”

“That’s an understatement,” Joslyn muttered. “I tried to talk to him, but he barely said a word to me.”

“He’s one of the guys who doesn’t play well with others,” Victoria justified. “Him, V, and Hex aren’t friendly men.”

“V scares me,” Oakley said from my side.

“V scares everyone.” Any man who wore a surgical mask and carried a bloodstained baseball bat like it was a common accessory obviously had a few screws loose. “That baseball bat is the only thing he talks to.”

“What’s up with the baseball bat?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, that’s Friend.”

“He named his bat Friend?” Mitchell said he was unhinged, and I think he was right.

She shrugged. “Like I said, he’s quirky.”

“That’s a little more than quirky for me,” I mumbled, letting the wine soak into my blood. Hopefully I could start to relax a bit more with the alcohol in my system, but I was so high-strung, I thought I might have to get blackout drunk to be an acceptable guest at a place I didn’t want to be. But Victoria was very nice and welcoming, and if the circumstances were different, I think I would’ve been her friend.

Libby? Well, she would take some getting used to for me.

“How are you doing, Ny?” Joslyn asked. I didn’t have as much to lose as Joslyn did, but she knew I was nursing a broken heart at the hands of Mitchell. Having to be around him for my safety made the devastation within my soul hurt more.

“I hate it.” My voice trembled, and for the first time since everything happened, I felt like I was able to get my feelings out. My vulnerability was finally getting to show. “Being around him hurts.”

“Oh, Ny,” Oakley soothed, running her fingers over my hair, knowing that usually calmed me down.

“Really?” Victoria’s nose crinkled, pointedly looking at me. “I mean, if the hickey on your neck is anything to go by, I would say things are going pretty good with you two…”

I yelped, hands going to my neck, making Victoria cackle and my friends jaws to drop. My cheeks flushed for a totally different reason. “Just kiddin’, beaut. You don’t have a hickey, but it seems like you do have some tea to spill. So, get to it.”

My lips flattened, not appreciating what she said. “This isn’t funny. I’m being forced to be around the man who broke my heart, or be hunted down by a dangerous gang we know absolutely nothing about.”

“I know it’s not a joke.” Her voice softened. “But nothin’ is going to heal it but time. The remnants of it will always be there but they’ll be less and less.” Her words were meant to comfort, but they just made my temper flare. This was why I only let my emotions out in front of Oakley and Joslyn. They listened, and that’s what I needed.

I knew Victoria could tell I was annoyed with her little hickey comment, especially when I was on the verge of breaking down. But I gotta say, I was too pissed to be sad, so maybe that was her intention? If so, it worked. Everyone in the Souls had a knack for pissing me off it seemed.

“I was thinking…” she began, swirling the wine in her glass, lost in thought. “Maybe if I explained what I can, it’ll give you girls a better understanding of the brothers, the club, and what their mission is.”

Oakley, Joslyn, and I looked at one another skeptically. Did we want to know more than we already did? What we knew now was overwhelming enough.

“My dad’s been trying to explain everything to me.” She tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear nervously, not meeting our eyes in favor of looking down at her lap. Avoiding eye contact was a nervous habit of hers. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Victoria’s face scrunched up at Oakley. “Who’s your dad?”

“Trevor… Er, everyone called him Law.”

“Law has a kid?” Her voice was high-pitched with disbelief, and even Libby looked at Oakley with surprise. “Didn’t see that one comin’.”

Oakley smiled awkwardly, still not looking at Victoria. “Here I am.”

“What’s it like to be the daughter of a biker?”

“He’s the best.” Her eyes were fond. Just like me, Oakley was a daddy’s girl. Trevor’s main priority in life had always been Oakley. “Recently, it’s been a little more strained, but he’s been doing his best to explain what he can… I just don’t think he knows how. He never planned on me knowing about his double life.”

“Claudia has to wonder why you suddenly moved home again,” I pointed out. “How’s she taking it?”

“She’s happy I’m home; you know she didn’t want me to move out in the first place.” That was an understatement. Claudia cried the whole day when Trevor was helping us load Oakley’s things into the moving truck. She made sure to call at least every other day, and she forced a mandatory bi-weekly family dinner. “She hasn’t asked any questions, though.”

That’s odd. Claudia was the typical nosy mom, which was the total opposite of Trevor, who gave Oakley all the space she needed. Oakley knew he always had her back, but she also knew that failing sometimes would only make her stronger. I loved watching Trevor with Claudia, and their petty squabbles always ended with a kiss, despite the severity. It was obvious he loved his family and would do anything for them. He hated flowers, but he helped Claudia in the garden just because he didn’t want her to lift the heavy pots. They were the definition of opposites attract, and I’ve never seen a love like theirs before.

My heart sank slightly as Mitchell’s face flashed without permission. That’s what I wanted with Mitchell—what I thought I would eventually have with Mitchell. But he had other plans for me since the beginning, and I fell right into his snare.

I shook my head, not now. It was too late. Despite my weakness with him last night, I didn’t want to be with him. I wished I would’ve just listened to my dad’s rules about being picky about who you let into your life. The real world didn’t care about anything but their personal gain and pleasure.

And I learned that lesson the very first time I opened my heart.

“I understand you guys have a jaded view toward the club right now, and I don’t blame you at all. I think it’ll be good for you girls to know a bit about the club life, but I figured it would be better if it came from a woman who’s been where y’all are.” Sympathy flooded her features as she looked at us. “It won’t fix anything, but I hope it’ll make things easier to understand, maybe help your judgment of them.”

I doubted anything would change my view of the club, but I’d let her talk. Not like we had a choice, anyway.

Joslyn, being her kind self, put her hand on Victoria’s. “You don’t have to tell us anything if you’re not comfortable.”

“My concern is with you ladies. I felt so lost coming into this world, and I wished I had someone to help guide me through some things.” Victoria’s eyes watered slightly, and she took a deep breath. “This is my story, ladies. And it’s not a pretty one.”

I took a large swig of wine, feeling alcohol would be needed for this conversation.

CHAPTER 15

Mitchell

F uckin’ bullshit.

The night hadn’t gone as I planned. After teasing Nyla, I was going to sneak into her room, where I knew she wasn’t going to listen and would try to get herself off, then I would’ve finished the job for both of us. I inwardly groaned, trying not to get a hard-on as I pictured her half naked on my kitchen table, eagerly awaiting my touch.

If I thought God didn’t hate me, I was sure he did now, sending me a siren to torch my soul—and apparently, my balls.

But no, instead of the night I had planned, I got a call from Prez, saying one of the Bloods was ready to talk, forcing me to go to the club instead of my guest bedroom that Nyla was currently occupying until we figured things out. Since we still didn’t fully trust her not to run or blab to her dad, we sent her over to Victoria’s house. Victoria was tougher than all of us put together, and we knew she’d be able to handle those three by herself.

I pulled up to the gate, then punched in my code before parking my bike along the row of others. As annoyed as I was right now, this was important.

Getting these fuckers off the streets was essential.

Tyrant and Knight met me at the door, nodding at me. “Brother.”

I dipped my chin back at them. “What’s new?”

“We’re about to take a trip to Hellbound; I wanna see V work.” Tyrant cackled. Watching V get information out of these bastards was fun, hearing them beg for their lives like their victims did, but V didn’t give a fuck about their cries, they fueled him. The more he tortured, the more he transcended into the brutal fucker we all know and tolerate.

Hellbound was private property in the woods where we took those who weren’t going to be seen again. Ever. The only exception was the Bloods party we set up, but even then, the majority of them wouldn’t be seeing daylight again.

“Is he there now?”

“We were heading there to go check. You comin’ with?”

“Are you kidding?” Tyrant answered his best friend. “He can’t drag himself away from that girl long enough to do anything with us anymore.”

“You’re fuckin’ dramatic.” I rolled my eyes at him, because he was nothing if he wasn’t dramatic. Beginning to think his road name should be Flamboyant instead of Tyrant. “For one, I was with Nyla to get her to trust me so I could try to get information about the Bloods.”

“Nuh-uh,” Knight challenged me. “You were supposed to be with Joslyn to get information about the Bloods, not Nyla.” I wanted to smack the grin off his fuckin’ face. “But you decided to shack up with Nyla instead.”

I wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. “This club comes first, and it always will until my last breath.”

It can’t come soon enough. You’ve wasted enough oxygen without giving anything good to this world. You’re just a waste of space.

“Then where have you been the past few weeks, Grim?” I hated when Knight fed off Tyrant’s chaotic behavior. These two were an absolute headache together. “Because you certainly were not with us.”

I was tired of dealing with them and how they threw the best week of my life in my face like it was some sort of mistake. It was a delicacy I allowed myself—and one I could never indulge in again. “Fuck off to Hellbound before I send you to hell myself.”

My idle threat fell on deaf ears. “Seriously though, I know you’re in charge of the girls. What’s goin’ on with them?”

“Nyla’s under my care, Joslyn’s situation is still being decided because of her involvement with the Bloods, and Oakley, well… she’s Law’s kid.”

“Law has a kid?” Knight’s jaw fell open, matching our reaction when we found out the truth about Oakley. I left out the tidbit of what Prez revealed to us; if he wanted them to know, he would tell them himself. I feel as if he didn’t mean for that to slip out, but high emotions can make even the deepest secrets come to life.

“I’m surprised he took his chastity belt off long enough to make a kid. I think he deprives himself of sex to be a beast in the courtroom.” I gotta give it to him, he knew how to laugh at himself—no one else did besides Knight. “If you’re here, then who’s watching them now?”

“Prez needed me here, so they’re all at Victoria’s house to be watched.”

Knight tensed at her name. I wasn’t sure the history between them, but the way they actively avoided each other, I knew it was something significant. “I’m goin’ to Hellbound.”

We watched him walk away, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you know what happened between them?”

Tyrant shook his head, surprisingly serious. “No clue. But whatever it is, I hope they figure it the fuck out. I’m tired of seein’ him tighten up around Victoria.”

“You have any idea what happened between them?”

He shook his head. “Not a damn clue. They haven’t fucked or anythin’; Knight’s just avoided her since day one. Drives Victoria crazy. Apparently, she doesn’t know why he hates her.”

I already knew they didn’t have sex from what Victoria told me, but Tyrant had a way of connecting with people and getting them to open up, so I didn’t know if she had confessed anything to him. “Hope they get that shit figured out soon. We already got enough to deal with, don’t have time for Knight’s bullshit.”

“You’re tellin’ me. He’s my best friend, but Victoria’s a fuckin’ little sister to me, too. Can’t stand to see them like that,” Tyrant mumbled. “I can only be the sun for so many people in this place. Being the happy one ain’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.”

That was a rarity—an honest moment where Tyrant opened up.

“Besides,” he cackled, the shield of vulnerability he cloaked himself with crumbling with his words, “I gotta spread some joy to the ladies outside of this club—can’t waste it all on you ugly lot. I have a reputation to uphold!” He raised his eyebrows, palming himself. “And trust me, it’s heavy to hold.”

“Fuck off.” I walked away from him, his laughter bouncing off the room. I saw Husk at the bar and decided to go check in with our Viking-looking brother. “Husk.”

He looked at me, nursing his beer. When Tyrant was being well, himself, Husk was usually drinking until he could stand to be around him like the rest of us. “Prez is waitin’ on you. One of the Bloods is willin’ to talk in exchange for somethin’.”

My eyes furrowed. Prez was more than capable of handling one of those weak shits on his own, so him needing me was unusual. “For what?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Just know Prez wants you in there.”

“Thanks.” I started to make my way toward the interrogation room before I stopped. “You goin’ to Hellbound?”

“Yeah, gonna see if V and Sarge can get some useful information out of them to maybe save their souls.”

I knew what information he wanted, but it’s been three years and countless men with the chance to save their souls by doing the right thing. No one’s bitten yet. Whoever they were working for must’ve had some leverage on them to scare them, even to their graves.

“Call if you need anything, brother. Depending on how this conversation goes, I’ll be making a stop to Hellbound.” I took off down the hallway to our interrogation room, opening the door to see exactly why Prez wanted me in here.

The fucker who had the balls to flirt with Nyla, in front of me no less, was sitting at our mercy across the table from Prez.

Noticing his jittery form, my lips turned up menacingly. Whether it was from coming off his high or fear, I wasn’t sure. Satisfaction filled me when I saw the bruises I left on his throat. “Ready to continue your lesson?”

“Not now, Grim,” Prez chided. “We need answers more than you need to feed your ego.”

When we were done with our conversation, he was going to the reaper anyway, and I’d happily send him to his forever spot six feet under. Having fun with him was just an added bonus.

“Was wonderin’ why you needed me here.” I walked to the table, flipping the chair around and resting my elbows on the top. “Glad you called me now, Prez.”

He nodded. “Figured you’d want to be the one to save him from himself.”

His gulp was audible, even from this side of the table. He was terrified. Good.

“Tell us what you know, and we’ll consider letting your death be swift.” Prez’s features were crazed, something he could turn on like a switch for intimidation.

Stupidly, the man across the table shook his head. “I want something in return if I’m going to rat on the Bloods.”

“You’re in no position to make demands; be thankful you’re even breathing.” The fucker was lucky I didn’t choke the life out of him at the party like I had planned to.

“I have some information on the Flock.”

Prez and I looked at each other, knowing this could be a total bluff, but we weren’t in the position to take a chance. “You have our attention.”

He sat up straighter, whether he was brave or stupid was yet to be seen. “I need your word I won’t be killed if I tell you.”

Stupid it was.

Prez shot me a glance, making me dip my chin back at him. One thing we’ve learned through years of interrogation was that most of these guys were idiots. They took the word of someone who kidnapped them, thinking our intentions were good and honorable.

We weren’t honorable men. We took, we didn’t give. I’m not sure what this dumbass was expecting, but we wouldn’t be letting him go.

“Tell us who runs the Flock, and we’ll let you go.” Darrell’s promise was flat, but it worked for the desperate man in front of us.

The man glanced my way, and I grinned at him. “If you don’t answer, just know we’ve got other ways of making you talk.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with fear. He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out.

“Were you forced to join?” Darrell questioned, making him shake his head. “How did you get involved, then?”

“Girls. Drugs.” He wasn’t dumb enough to lie to us, so at least his fear was good for something. “Drugs were the only thing that made me feel confident about myself. I had a hard time getting girls in school, and when I went to a party, they promised I could have all the girls I wanted—”

My eyes darkened and I cut him off, “Against their will, right?”

His silence was answer enough. There was no saving this scumbag.

“Tell us what you know about the Flock.” Darrell was done with the games, his tone borderline deadly. “If you don’t, we’ll make you regret it.”

“The guy who runs the Flock changes his name every week to prevent people from identifying him; he’s never told anyone his real name.” His voice was trembling, but I could tell he was telling the truth. “That’s all I know, I promise.”

“Do you know what his last alias was?” Prez stared him down a bit more, dissatisfied with the little information we got. It was something we should’ve expected by now. Nothing but disappointment from life and the evil it brought our way. When sweat started rolling off this guy’s forehead, we knew he was bullshitting us. “Well?”

He still said nothing, making me chuckle. “You sure had a lot to say at the party. I’m curious why you aren’t so chatty now? Because you’re with people who actually overpower you and not the other way around?” I shook my head, standing and counting down the minutes until I could take his last breath.

He looked relieved when Prez followed my lead, but his relief was short-lived.

“Don’t look too relieved,” Prez snapped at him before we left the room, leaving him to stew in the interrogation room before we collected him. “You won’t get off scot-free for raping unwilling women. Say goodbye to your dick, asshole.”

He’s gonna lose more than just that, Prez, I thought as he closed the door and his sobbing started. Good. I hoped he felt the fear and desperation all his victims had.

“How the fuck one man can just evade us like this is something I’ll never understand.” He was frustrated, and rightfully so. Whoever was running the Flock had a plan for everything. He obviously wasn’t a dumb man and had many aliases to keep everyone only guessing who he was.

We were going to catch him one day, even if it was the last thing I did before I was put into the cold ground. His blood would be mine. For Mom, for Mallory, for all the heartache they’ve caused my brothers.

Until then, I was going to have fun with the terrified man in front of me. Nyla didn’t have to see it, but what I said to her was true.

Anyone who fucked with her would meet my fists or my bullet… a forever spot in the ground was just a bonus for them. Thinking about it, that was too good for him. I’d have to figure something fun out.

“I’ll meet you at Hellbound, then I gotta go get my girl.” I smirked at him. “Shouldn’t you go see yours, too?”

His snarl was fierce, ignoring my question. He knew who I was talkin’ about, his subtle glances at Victoria when he thought no one was watching. Going out of his way to make sure she had everything she needed. He said he was just taking care of his employee, but he wasn’t fooling anyone with that bullshit excuse. “I’ll meet you at Hellbound; we’ll discuss our plans after.”

He walked away from me, shoulders slightly slumped. Victoria was a touchy subject for Prez. I thought back to what he revealed to us the other day when he told us he had a daughter, and I wondered if that’s why he was holding back from her.

Right now I didn’t care about their complicated relationship as I walked back into the room, the asshole looking at me with fear and pleading for his life with his eyes. It didn’t diminish my resolve; if anything, it made me more excited. I fed off fear. This is going to be fun.

I cracked my knuckles, my smirk wicked. “I’ll teach you to flirt with other men’s girls, motherfucker.”

CHAPTER 16

Nyla

“B efore I joined the Souls, I was affiliated with another club. Usually, clubs accept anyone if they can pass a prospecting period. During this period, they’re basically the club’s bitch, doing the ugly work that patched members don’t want to do. Some prospects don’t make it, even after they’ve spent a year of their life being the club’s bitch. All members have to be in agreement, so if one brother doesn’t want them, they’re out,” Victoria explained. Joslyn, Oakley, and I knew nothing about this dangerous world, so this story was going to be fun. Not.

“Who would want to do that?” I thought aloud, the alcohol dulling the rudeness of the question to me until Joslyn shot me a slight glare.

“Someone who would do anything to have a family, even if it was with a bunch of rowdy sexist men.” She smiled ruefully, instantly making me regret saying those words. “I went through a few months of prospecting, and the brothers would make me… do some questionable things. I was desperate for a family, so even though I didn’t exactly feel comfortable, I went along with it. At the end of the year, they told me I could be a club girl, but I’d never be a patched member.”

“But you did everything they asked of you.” I could tell Joslyn was trying to understand.

She nodded. “This is a world full of misogyny, but women have to be strong to survive anywhere. What they made me do for the year wasn’t anything different from what a club girl would do.”

“What’s a club girl?” I asked, trying to put effort into the conversation. Victoria could’ve just thrown us to the wolves, but I could tell she was genuinely trying to help us navigate our feelings better. Not to mention I felt bad after my tipsy remark.

“It’s a girl who works for the club and has sex with the men,” Libby bluntly explained.

I felt my heart drop as Joslyn asked, “So, these girls are in the club?”

Victoria shook her head. “Not in the Souls. Darrell doesn’t want the drama that comes with them. He says real men can get their own pussy. He wants the brothers focused on atoning for their sins.”

I couldn’t help but feel relieved that these women weren’t in the club. I supported sex workers—us women had to make money anyway we could in this male-dominated world—I just didn’t like the thought of being around anyone Mitchell slept with in the past.

“Since I didn’t get in that club, I went to another,” Victoria continued her explanation. “I was considered a Nomad prospect. Nomad is when a member doesn’t want to settle at one club and can go to and from its affiliates. No club wanted a woman to tarnish their reputation, so I kept getting rejected unless I would agree to spread my legs.”

I tilted my head. “How’d you end up here?”

“I got tired of men making me feel like I was only worth as much as I would spread my legs for.” Her tone was solemn, lost in the memory of her horrid past. “I was sitting in an alleyway with my head against the wall. I had just sold my rod for some food and beer money, and I was out of options. I gave up my life to pursue a dream that just wasn’t for me, and I was living the consequences of it… until Darrell found me.”

I furrowed my brows. “He let you prospect here?”

“Darrell doesn’t prospect; he handpicks us lost souls. Says he sees sin in our eyes and gives us a family we didn’t want, but needed. I’ll forever be thankful to him; he saved my life, along with every single man in the Souls.”

I may be slightly tipsy, but the fondness in her eyes and words made me think there was more to Victoria’s feelings toward Darrell than familial affection. A sobering thought hit me. “So that means you—”

“I have a sin God won’t forgive me for.” She didn’t sound ashamed of it. “But seeing all I gained from doing it, I’d do it all over again. Hell is worth all I’ve gained.”

“That’s the only way you’re allowed to be patched into the club?” When she nodded, I couldn’t help but glance at Libby, who hadn’t contributed much to the conversation. She noticed my stare, blowing out a breath.

“I’ve done something bad, too.” Her voice was hushed, full of pain. “So, so bad.”

Victoria put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We all have. It’s comforting to know all of us are sinners, that we won’t be judged for screwing up big time. We’re just one big, fucked-up family.”

“I guess I’m where I belong.” Joslyn’s words were solemn. “I’ve done something God won’t forgive me for.”

Victoria’s grinned at her. “Welcome to the sinners club.”

She countered with a lopsided smile, not sure if it was a good thing or not. “It’s… nice to be with people who think they can’t get over the bad things they’ve done in life.”

“We’re more than our sins.” Victoria’s words were comforting. “You’re not alone anymore. We’ll help you and, hopefully, your sister.”

Joslyn exhaled a shaky breath. “My sister’s not a bad person, she’s just lost. She’s lost because of me.”

I couldn’t help myself; I walked to Joslyn and wrapped my arms around her. If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past few days, it was that nothing is what it seems. There were always hidden truths, and the consequences could not be ignored. I didn’t care for Jordyn or how she treated her sister, but I wanted her to get the help she desperately needed so she could be healthy and happy. The side she showed at the clubhouse was heartbreaking to see, but her eyes didn’t lie.

She didn’t want to be that way.

“We’ll figure everything out together, Jos.” I squeezed Joslyn harder, and her tears soaked my shoulder as she nodded.

“There’s also another way to be associated with the club without becoming a patched member. Gettin’ with a brother.”

I crinkled my nose. “Like sex?”

She shook her head. “No. When a brother puts a claim on you, you become his ol’ lady. It’s basically marriage for bikers; they give you their patch to wear so everyone knows you’re off limits.”

“You don’t have to have a sin that way?”

She shook her head. “No. If a brother gives you his patch, it shows that it’s a serious commitment. You’re not a fling, you’re theirs for life.” Her words stung; I now knew why Mitchell didn’t offer me a patch. “Or obviously, like Oakley, be a kid of one of the members. It means automatic protection.”

“What if I don’t want to be part of the club?”

“Sorry, sugar, you don’t have a choice now.” Her words to Oakley weren’t reassuring. “The club has enemies who won’t hesitate to kill you or sell you just to hurt any member, and that includes your dad.”

That was a very sobering thought. And while this wasn’t a conversation I exactly wanted to have, I was starting to understand the club slightly better. I wasn’t justifying what they did to us, though. I looked at Victoria, who had a kind look on her face. She’d been nothing but friendly to us since the first day we met her, and I’ve been judgmental toward her. I had every reason to be, but I could tell she was a genuine person with a lot of love for the Souls. I felt ashamed at flipping over the tray of food she made for us and the dejected look in her eyes that came with my impulsive anger. “I’m sorry about how I treated you at the clubhouse.”

She brushed me off. “You didn’t hurt my feelings any, beaut. I knew what I was going to walk into. I just wanted to be a friendly face in a fucked-up situation.”

“So you know about the party they took us to?”

“I know parts. Lib and I aren’t allowed to know all the details about what they do,” Victoria explained. “They’re not legal or ethical by any means, but most morally correct things in the world aren’t. I’ve heard some inklings of what the Cardinal Bloods got involved with.” She sucked in a steadying breath. “The Flock needs to be stopped.”

“Who’re the Flock?”

“They’re who the Bloods got involved with. They’re just a pawn in a bigger game to recruit more. They…” a shaky breath left her lips, “they’re such awful people. If you girls knew some of the things they did…”

She wasn’t able to finish before Joslyn spoke up. “I see it through my sister. She’s been gone a lot more; she’s losing more weight, and her eyes are becoming more lifeless. It’s like she’s giving up.”

My heart went out for her as my mind replayed what Darrell told us about the man they shot at the party. “Darrell told us what they’re doing to kids and their families who don’t join them.”

A dismal smile spread on Victoria’s lips, sadness clouding her dark eyes. “They deserve to die, Nyla.”

The more people told me that, the more I was starting to believe it. People who think they could get away with something as serious as that? Well, who knew what else they thought they could get away with “I know.”

“About Grim…” A frost-like feeling engulfed me, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what she was going to say. “He’s a great guy who fucked up big time. There’s no excuse for what he’s done, and I wouldn’t forgive him if I were you, but don’t give up on him.” Her lips thinned, trying to think of the right words to tell me. “He’s already given up on himself.”

“There’s no coming back from what he did to me.” What he did was equivalent to shattering my heart with a clawhammer, the jagged pieces never fitting together again. “He really hurt me, Victoria.”

“I know,” she agreed, thankfully not forgetting that. “He wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for the Souls’ mission. Over the past few weeks, he’s been different in a good way. He had to make a choice, and he didn’t make a choice that would make him happy, but one that would help save others.”

The weight of her words sank into me. I didn’t think of it that way; I only thought of the fact that he hurt me and got me involved in a life I didn’t want to be a part of. “He told me the day we met that I shouldn’t approach all the monsters I see,” I admitted to everyone. “He warned me to stay away from him, to not trust him, but I didn’t listen… But he didn’t listen to his own warnings, either.”

She huffed out a breath, bemused with my admittance. “He views himself as the sin he’s committed, which, if its anything like mine, isn’t something that can be forgiven. Just because he sees himself as a monster, doesn’t mean he is one. He feels like he doesn’t deserve anything, but sometimes what we think we don’t deserve becomes something we can’t resist.”

But he was a monster to me.

I wanted to get off the topic of Mitchell. I didn’t want to deal with the way my mind was twisted with my want, need, and desire, making a vortex of confliction in me. “You guys don’t know each other’s sins?”

She shook her head. “The only one who knows is Darrell. He carries everyone’s burdens, as well as his own.” A soft smile graced her lips. “He truly is a wonderful man.”

She got a certain sparkle in her eyes whenever she talked about him or he was mentioned, making me think I was right to assume she liked Darrell more than just a boss.

“All this wine is making me hungry.” Victoria stood, looking around at us. “Wanna order food and talk shit about the men? That always cheers me up after a depressing conversation.”

That made me relax for the first time since we got here. Food, wine, and talking shit about the people who wronged us sounded like a good time. I felt myself grin slightly. “Sounds like a good time to me.”

Our laughter drowned out the sound of the knocks at the door; we only noticed when it was kicked opened, earning Victoria’s loud screech. “What the fuck, Sarge!”

He shrugged as Mitchell came inside. “We’ve been knockin’ for three minutes. You know how impatient we are.”

“I’ll show you fuckin’ impatient.” She stomped over, immediately stopping when Darrell walked through the door. Apparently, him stopping by wasn’t a normal occurrence if her worried look was anything to go by. “Is everything okay?”

“Just checking in on the girls,” he explained. This guy had one mean poker face. “You doin’ okay, Victoria?”

“I’m doing fine.” I got whiplash seeing her go from raging to docile in the matter of seconds. Darrell obviously had a profound effect on her. “I explained things to them, but I also told them they didn’t have to forgive you. I gave them the facts I was able to tell them so they could make their own choices.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” His eyes lingered a moment too long on her before facing us. “How are you ladies feeling after what you’ve learned?”

“Like I just went into the ring with an MMA fighter without any breaks.” Leave it to Joslyn to say something outrageous. “But it did help.”

“Us sinners must stick together. We’ll be able to help a lot of others that way.” He acknowledged her feelings. I don’t know how she was able to get over stuff as fast as she did, but I guess with years of abuse from her sister, she grew resilient to people’s harsh judgments.

Her eyes lit up. “Does that mean you trust me?”

“No. Like I said, I gave you more of a leash than I usually give others. You’re meeting me halfway, and I’ll do the same for you.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying—”

“If you help us, I’ll help your sister.” He nodded. “I decided that your cooperation would help us far more than your sister ever could.”

Her shaky breath was one of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

“But don’t forget, if you cross us in anyway, you won’t have the chance to save your sister.”

She gulped, nodding.

He turned his attention to Oakley. “How are you doing, Oakley? Law said he’s been trying to explain things to you.”

“Fine,” she squeaked. “He has.”

Getting Oakley to talk was like pulling teeth sometimes, especially in front of men who were bred to strike fear in others. “Do you feel better after talking to Victoria?”

She nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. I think out of all of us, Oakley was going to be the least adaptable to this life. She got sick at the sight of blood, and she loathed violence and anything that had to do with it—she wouldn’t even watch horror or action movies. On our girls’ nights, it had to be strictly rom-coms until she fell asleep, then Joslyn and I would spook ourselves with whatever cheesy horror movie we could stream.

“I can tell it’s going to take some time to get you acclimated to this new life, but you’re the daughter of a biker. This is your life now, whether you like it or not.”

She grabbed the skirt of her dress, squeezing it slightly tighter, but otherwise she didn’t reply.

That just left me, but it wasn’t Darrell who asked me, it was Mitchell. “Did Victoria clear some things up for you?”

“Yeah. You guys are bad people killing other bad people before they hurt innocent people.” He chuckled at my explanation, and I lifted an eyebrow. “Am I close?”

“Pretty accurate, actually.”

I wanted to smart off to him, but what could I say? The conversation tonight helped open my eyes to their world, and while they weren’t good men, they were helping rid the world of even worse men—something that needed to be done way more often than it was right now.

They may have been doing good in their own way, but their ‘good deed’ traumatized me and my friends.

He opened his mouth to say something when someone walked through the door, someone no one was expecting. “What are you doing here, V?”

V walked closer, his midnight eyes scanning the room. His face looked emotionless, amplified by the fact you couldn’t see his mouth due to the surgical mask. He was the scariest men I’ve ever seen.

“Oakley.” The way he said her name gave me shivers down my spine. I searched out for my shy friend and saw her eyes fill with fear, knowing he was here for her.

“You’re one weird fuck, brother,” Mitchell said with a laugh. “Law ain’t gonna be happy you’re here.”

V genuinely looked confused. “Why would I care about what he thinks?”

“That’s his daughter, man. Gotta respect a brother’s kid.”

He shrugged. “Ask me if I care.”

“V,” someone growled from the doorway. And by the looks on Trevor’s face, he was ready to kill. This wasn’t good. “You should care. Next time you get locked up, I’ll let you rot.”

V didn’t look affected by his words. “I’m not scared of prison.”

I shivered. That was one scary man, and Oakley thought so too, as she rushed to her dad. “Can we leave?”

His gaze softened as he looked at her. “Of course, go wait in the car. I’ll be there soon.”

She didn’t have to be told twice as she practically ran toward the car. “Joslyn? You need a ride home, sweetheart?”

“You don’t need to worry about her.” Sarge’s voice was gravely, holding a slight warning.

Trevor huffed a breath. “You guys need to let the girls make decisions for themselves.”

“It’s fine, Trevor.” Joslyn was trying to do damage control. “Sarge will make sure I get home safely.”

“If you’re sure.” He shrugged, looking at me. “You good, Ny?”

“No,” I answered. “But I don’t have a choice.”

I felt bad as he sighed. He looked tired, and the bags under his eyes only proved my theory. “I’ll see you all later—”

“Before you go,” Darrell interrupted. “We need to discuss the fundraiser.”

I frowned. Too busy with my own problems, I forgot the fundraiser was in two days. “What about it?”

“We’re meetin’ up at the Central at four to get shit set up and help the vendors. Everyone already knows their role.” His words left no room for argument as his gaze filtered through the room, looking at each of us. “Don’t be late. You won’t like what I’ll do if you are. These women and children are relying on us. We’ve already let ourselves down; let’s not let the people who need us down.”

With that, he turned on his heel, heading out the door. Sarge followed closely behind, only stopping to see if Joslyn was following. “Sunshine.”

Sunshine? Who was he calling—

“Coming!” My eyes widened as Joslyn responded, rushing toward him and waving over her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys at the fundraiser. I’ll start making the flower arrangements tomorrow.”

She walked out the door with Sarge, leaving us all speechless. That girl had some explaining to do.

“Oakley,” Trevor called out to his daughter. “Let’s go. Gotta go to the store to get stuff for your decorating booth.”

She didn’t have to be told twice as she rushed out the door, Trevor following close behind her, and V slipping out behind them.

“Thanks for tonight.” I turned to Victoria. “I’m sorry about—”

“You already apologized, beaut.” Her smile told me to get over it, but I still felt bad. “Shit happens when we’re not thinking rationally. You’re not the only one to do something out of anger. But we’re going to be acquaintances from now on, whether you like it or not, so I’d rather we’d get along.”

I smiled, conflicted, but if I was stuck here, then I didn’t want to make it even more dreadful than it already was. “I’d like that.”

Mitchell’s hand went to the small of my back, guiding me in the direction of the front door. “See you in a few days, Vic.”

“Take care of her, Grim,” she shouted after him. “Because if you don’t…? Just remember that I know where you live.”

He laughed off her threat. If she only knew what he’s done to me thus far, I’d hope she’d put him in an unmarked grave. Mitchell turned to me. “Tipsy?”

“Not nearly enough.” Especially after a scene like that. At this point, a whole liquor cabinet wouldn’t be enough to deal with where my life was right now.

“I’ll take care of you. I even got some wine I know you like.”

The ‘aw’ from Victoria wasn’t warranted. I felt overstimulated with everything that had happened today, and now he was trying to bribe me with my happy juice? “I’m gonna need it to deal with you.”

His laughter rang out as he followed me outside. I stood in front of his bike—of course he rode his bike here, any excuse for me to touch him. The temptation to walk to his house was there, but in my current state, that would come with a sprained ankle and maybe a broken bone. Though, right now, that sounded better than being with Mitchell.

“Don’t even think about walking back to my place. Besides, you don’t even know how to get there from here.”

Bastard.

“You have blood on your hands.”

I watched as he lifted his hand, inspecting them, and earning a gasp from me. He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “What? I didn’t know if I got it all.”

Realization dawned on me, filling my veins with ice. “You killed someone.”

“He deserved it.”

I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Who was it?”

“Can’t tell ya. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

His answer set off a spark inside me, making any logical part of my brain feel like it was short circuiting. “Victoria told me to give you a chance.”

“Oh?” he wondered aloud. “And tell me, pretty girl, are you going to give me another chance?”

“No.” My whisper was strangled, fighting with the nightmare my reality had become. “You lied to me about everything… I don’t even know you. You held us captive at a party. Your club killed someone right in front of us. You kidnapped us. How can I give you another chance after that, Mitchell?”

There wasn’t one good reason I should, yet I was sure he’d find one.

“Because I’m not going to let you go.”

“You think you have this hold on me when you don’t.” My body twisted to face his, my words fierce.

“Oh, but I do.” He looked smug as he approached me. “If I didn’t have a hold on you, you wouldn’t be struggling with what you feel for me.”

“Because I’m forced to be with you!” I shouted. He was making me feel slightly deranged with his uncaring attitude toward this situation. “It’s so hard to process my feelings for you when you’re constantly around me.”

“So you want me to what?” he challenged back, his eyes narrowing at me. “Let you go unprotected when there could be gang members after you? You don’t understand the things they do to women like you, Nyla. You hating me is a small sacrifice I’m willing to pay if it means I can protect you from that.” His face lowered toward mine, teeth clenched. “What they do to women is something you won’t be able to come back from. It sticks with you forever, and just when you think you’ve accepted it, the memories will hit you at full force. The only memories you’ll have are of me protecting you from that life of imprisonment.”

“My memories of you are nothing but betrayal,” I snarled at him. “You making me think you cared about me, showed me what I thought was the beginnings of someone loving me, just to have it all ripped away. You should be groveling at my feet!”

I watched as Mitchell immediately dropped to the ground, crawling the short distance between us before I felt his calloused fingers brush against my bare calves. My breath hitched as I looked down at him when I felt his lips whisper against my skin. “Does this satisfy you, pretty girl? The fact that you have so much power over me that I’m on my knees with just a few words out of your pretty lips?” He dragged his kisses higher up my leg, his heated breath like fire along the exposed skin. “Do you want me to apologize between your legs?”

My anger was fueling me, taking over every rational part of my brain. I didn’t want to feel this way; I wanted him to take it all away. The feelings inside me were about to erupt, and I was either going to kill him or do something else I couldn’t take back. “I want you to make me forget it ever happened.”

He stood slowly, making sure his lips stayed connected to me as he dragged himself up until his lips were by my ear. “Your wish is my command, pretty girl.”

This means nothing. This means nothing. This. Means. Nothing, I chanted to myself as he pressed his lips to mine, his tongue immediately tracing the seam of my lips, wanting access to ravage my mouth. Unable to resist him, I opened. I swore it was like he was trying to eat me.

I wanted him to eat me.

Just not this part of me…

He disconnected himself from my lips, immediately dragging them along the way, making sure to sink his teeth into my nipple, earning a hiss and harsh words from me. “I hate you.”

“You don’t hate me.” He smirked, calling out my obvious bluff. “You hate that I don’t fit the picture you painted of me. Let me tell you something, pretty girl…” I gasped as his hand slipped into my pants, his finger lightly gliding over my core. “Your pussy wouldn’t be this wet for me if you hated me.”

I growled, hating the fact that I wanted him carnally. I mean, what woman in their right mind wouldn’t? Mitchell was a literal dream man. Blonde, bearded, tattooed, with rippling muscles.

His fingers applied a delicious amount of pressure on my clit, and a soft moan left my lips as I let go. This wasn’t going fast enough for me. I backed up from him—a move he wasn’t expecting as his hand slid out of my pants, confusion in his eyes. I sneered, ripping my clothes off before commanding him, “Take your pants off, now.”

He was slow with his movements, unfastening his belt before slowly pulling it through the loops. His button came next, followed by the way he slowly pulled his zipper down. I was growing more impatient as my anger fumed inside me. I wanted to go over there and rip his pants down his legs myself, but the show he was displaying was very enticing.

Walking over to him, I pushed him over the arm of the couch, watching as his cock bobbed as he fell on his back, letting me take the reins. The power was feeding my movements—no way would I have the courage to do something like this if I didn’t feel high on the power I had over Mitchell. I climbed on top of him, using two fingers to spread myself, making sure he got a show as my other hand guided his cock to my opening.

Slowly, I sank on his cock, feeling him slide inside me, filling me so impossibly full. And this was a feeling I quickly growing addicted to—and the rage running rampant through my body only intensified that feeling. I shifted my hips in intricate patterns, his large cock moving against my walls in a luscious way, earning a strangled curse from him as he bucked his hips to keep up with my movements.

“Take your anger out on my cock, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” His words were hoarse, his breath coming out in heavy pants as he gripped my hips hard enough that I knew bruises were going to be left behind. “Let go, baby. I want to feel you come all over my cock. It’s making you feel good, isn’t it?”

I leaned back, resting my hands on his shins, the angle pushing against my bundle of nerves, driving my pleasure into overdrive. “Yes!”

“What’s making you feel so good, Nyla?”

“Your cock,” I whimpered. I must’ve lost my mind to the thrill of the control he was letting me have over him. His grip on my hips grew tighter, stilling my movements. I tried to get out of his hold, but he wasn’t relenting. “Mitchell!”

“I’m making you feel good,” he growled through clenched teeth, his sun-kissed skin flush with sweat. “Me. Say it, and I’ll let you finish.”

“You’re making me feel so good, Mitchell!” I thrashed in his grip, trying to break out of his bruising force to get over the edge. “Please let me finish!”

“Good girl,” he praised. I almost lost myself when the calloused skin of his thumb connected with my clit, the roughness adding a new sensation to go through me.

“Let go and come all over my cock.” His growl was a command my mind listened to. My vaginal muscles contracted as I felt a rush between my legs, a sticky feeling left behind as I collapsed onto Mitchell, my breath leaving moisture on his chest. My post-orgasmic bliss made me drowsy, intensified by the warmth of the man below me and how my anger was satiated. My eyes began to shut, my relaxation short-lived as he sat up, taking me with him.

Our chests were heaving, matching each other’s in rhythm. I felt self-conscious after letting my anger take control, but thankfully, my face was camouflaged from the excursion.

“I know you don’t hate me, but you sure fuck me like you do,” he commented, removing me from his lap as the aftermath of our hateful sex dripped out of me. I cringed, hating that I was getting his furniture dirty, but he probably thought it was a badge of honor and was going to brag about it to his brothers when they came over.

I sat there, naked and ashamed that I gave into the carnal urges only this man could ever make me feel. I tucked a strand of hair behind my hair, unable to look at him.

“I don’t know what came over me. I… I was just so mad, it felt like I was hyper-focused and didn’t know what to do. I just acted.”

“Guess I need to piss you off more, then.” He laughed, fastening the button of his blue jeans, and I tried not to drool at the blond trail of hair leading up to his belly button. “You just rode me so hard, I think you were trying to break my pelvis bone… not that I’m complaining.” He winked, which ignited a mini flame inside me. “No hotter way to break a bone.”

“I didn’t do it because of that.” I paused, trying to find the right words. He wasn’t wrong about how hard I rode him. I was furious, confused, ashamed… and all those emotions flowed through my movements and quite literally onto him. “I was just releasing pent-up emotions.”

“I better be the only one you’re releasing your emotions on,” he said seriously, walking over and placing two fingers under my chin but not making me to look at him. “’Cause if I find out I’m not? Well, it won’t end well for him,” the fingers grabbing my chin forced me to look at him, “or for you.”

I knew he’s never given me an idle threat. He made me regret telling him where I worked, and he made true to his promise of the price it would be to let someone like him into my life. And I was paying that price with my mind, body, and soul. “If you think I’m going to fall in love with you, think again.”

He snorted, releasing his grip on my chin and putting distance between us. “Couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.”

Ouch. I wasn’t expecting him to react like that, especially after what we just did, hate sex or not. He noticed how his blunt words affected me, immediately trying to soften the blow.

“If we’re going to have something between us, it’s going to be strictly physical. I refuse to fall in love.” He turned around, his back facing me and making me strain to hear his words. “I don’t deserve it.”

He walked out of the room, leaving me with the memory of his touch and words. I should’ve felt relieved than a man who claimed to be my monster—and who acted accordingly—didn’t believe in love, but instead my heartstrings tugged at his words. The back of my mind was telling me he was a hot and cold person, drawing me in and kicking me out. He was a manipulative bastard who got what he wanted, so while my chest hurt at his words, only time would tell if he was playing with my heart again.

“He feels like he doesn’t deserve anything, but sometimes what we think we don’t deserve becomes something we can’t resist.”

I didn’t know what would become of me and Mitchell, if sex partners were all we would ever be. But right now, it was enough. I was so confused; so much was happening in such a short amount of time, and I didn’t know how to react or how to process it. Maybe giving into Mitchell sexually was a mistake, just like sheltering him from the rain in the graveyard was a mistake I’d never recover from.

Who knew one act of kindness could shatter my whole life?

CHAPTER 17

Nyla

I  woke up, staring at the vaguely familiar ceiling of Mitchell’s guest room. The gray color resembled how I felt inside—trapped, dull and lifeless. My eyes stung, dry from the stress and tears from the shitshow the past week of my life had been. But today I had to push it all to the side. No matter if the mask crumbled, I couldn’t let it disintegrate completely.

It was the day of the Leela’s Legacy fundraiser.

Even with what was happening today, I couldn’t find an ounce of joy within myself, and this day was something I looked forward to every year. The smiling faces of the kids with fresh face paint, and cookie crumbs on their faces and clothes as they ran around on a sugar high, their moms laughing and feeling the weight of the world off them, even if it was just for a millisecond.

I prided myself on making this day a brief reprieve for them, but not this year.

No, this year I wasn’t looking forward to it, especially since the Souls had graciously volunteered themselves for the event, even though they weren’t wanted there. Even worse, Carly was over the moon that they volunteered their services. Despite my bias feelings toward them, I was afraid that a group of walking giants would scare the women and children at the domestic shelter. They were afraid of men half their size, so I couldn’t imagine their reactions to them. Carly didn’t share my concerns, though.

Mitchell poked his head in the guest bedroom door, the longer part of his dirty blond hair damp from a shower. I ignored the way droplets slid down his face, through his stubbled chin, and onto the floor. “Gonna get ready? We gotta go soon.”

“I’m well aware,” I deadpanned, trying to gather my strength and patience to get out of bed. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I just need to change my clothes.”

“Get a move on. The brothers are already on their way,” he explained, opening the door and revealing his full form, clad in a black T-shirt, denim jeans, and his cut finishing out his usual look.

I sighed, pushing the covers off me. I felt hazel eyes on me, and when I turned to look at Mitchell, I found his heated eyes were locked on me. “Can you leave so I can change?”

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms to make his forearms bulge, his tribal tattoo rippling with his muscles. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen, touched, or fucked before, Nyla.”

I flattened my lips in annoyance, but I didn’t have the time to argue. We had to get going like he said, or we were going to be late—and since I was in charge of this of it, I couldn’t be late.

I walked over to my closet, pulling out a comfortable sweatshirt with a pair of black leggings—

“No.”

I turned to him, my face scrunched. “What do you mean no?”

“You’re not wearin’ that.” He walked over to where I was, pulling a familiar hoodie off the hanger. “You’re wearin’ this.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, defiance on the tip of my tongue as I stared at his self-proclaimed favorite hoodie. The one he gave me to shield myself from the rain the day we met.

“What if I don’t want—”

His sharp glare cut me off, daring me to finish my sentence. Usually, I would fight back, but every time I had so far turned into some sexual punishment that had me thrashing and wanting more from him—something I was trying to avoid until this shit situation I was in died down. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my anger, so I decided on a different approach. “Fine.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised I didn’t put more of a fight up. Instead, I grabbed his sweatshirt from him, throwing it over myself, the hem stopping just above my knees. It also gave me a chance to strip out of the gray sweatpants and into the leggings I chose without giving him a show, something I knew he was looking forward to if his dejected sigh had anything to say about it. “Let’s go.”

I smirked. I finally won. It was a small victory, but a victory, nonetheless.

Mitchell brought his motorcycle to a halt next to the row of his brothers’ bikes. I waited for him to stabilize the bike before letting go of him, hopping off the bike like I was on fire.

The Central was an area in downtown Diamond Ridge that was lush with trees, flowers, and a path that circled a playground for the children to play on while the adults tended to whatever business they needed to. Kids were already crawling all over the play structure, which was a huge wooden castle with slides, swings, cargo nets and bridges, as well as handholds of climbing. I saw a few women walking together around the path, probably early for the event, and I grinned. It was a nice, safe area for everyone.

At least it was until a motorcycle gang bulldozed their way into an event that was supposed to help others, not scare them.

I walked over to the Central, various smells of fresh breads and sweets wafted in the air as the vendors set up their tables with their products on display. My eyes widened with the intricate displays showcasing fresh fruit and veggies from private farms, delicious cakepops and cupcakes decorated with balloon piping, and handcrafted soaps and bathbombs. Farther down the street, I saw a few tables set up with resource information for the women, including free clinics for healthcare, food pantries, as well as the local shop that provided everything from clothes, books, and toys, as well as some basic furniture for when the women finally made their way out of the shelter, ready to start the new chapter of their life. I made a mental note to stop there since that was where Grandma’s legacy truly fell, and I wanted to ensure they had enough supplies and resources to help those families. Loud screaming pulled my attention from the street, whipping around to see the other end of the festival, and I sighed in relief. Children were screaming as they lined up, excited to try out the bouncy houses that were being inflated—an obstacle course to satisfy the older kids, as well as a jungle-themed one for the smaller children.

I made my way down the street, smiling and waving at the people who shouted for me, and surprisingly Mitchell, who they called Grim. He waved back at them with that charming grin of his, not bothered by being referred to as his road name.

We were silent as we made out way to the main area of the central, a stoned circle path with lots of canopies and trucks emptying their goods to sell and give away to raise money for this amazing cause. This food truck parade as we called it would be a huge help in boosting our funds to help these families. My nose was assaulted by the various scents wafting from the trucks—offering everything from coffee shops to taco stands, fruit kabobs, waffles, burgers, and ice cream. My smile was wiped off my face when I saw the large group of men in front of me.

The Unforgiven Souls MC.

Darrell was barking orders, which was barely heard over the loud music that was pumping through the event—the kid-friendly versions of popular music was drawing a crowd of raucous school-aged kids, spinning and dancing in the middle. Tyrant and Knight were carrying heavy boxes to a canopy, Sarge was setting up chairs, and V was setting decorating equipment on a table—Oakley’s table to be exact. V set the empty piping bags on Oakley’s table, throwing his blood-crusted baseball bat over his shoulder.

“V, put that bat away.” I stepped closer, hearing a guff voice I recognized as Darrell’s. “You’re gonna scare the kids.”

He quirked an eyebrow, looking at Darrell like he was insane. “No.”

Darrell’s nostrils flared, clearly frustrated with how his club was acting on such an important day. “Then go do something else. Oakley’s gonna be helpin’ the kids decorate cookies and cakes. You don’t need to be around to scare them, they’re scared enough.”

It was hard to tell what he was feeling. His eyes weren’t expressive, and his mouth was shielded by the black surgical mask he never took off. He did look different today though, but maybe it was because he let the black strands of his hair hang loose instead of in his usual bun. “I’ll be watching.”

“The fuck you are.” Trevor came from around the corner, a box full of canvased cookies in his hands. “This day isn’t about you; it’s about helping others, and you don’t know how to help anyone other than yourself.”

V narrowed his eyes. His bat slipped from his shoulder, the heavy barrel hitting the cement echoing around and making Darrell intervene.

Darrell tried to diffuse the situation, knowing V was like gasoline for Trevor’s temper. “You usually don’t listen to us, but I know you can resonate with scared kids… We’re trying to help them, brother.”

V didn’t look phased by Darrell’s attempt at peace, and Trevor wasn’t having any of it. “Plus, you scared my little girl, and that shit doesn’t fly with me, V.”

V just stood there, stoic and silent, his eyes unreadable but glued in Trevor’s direction. With one tap of his bat on the ground, V walked back to the loading truck the Souls brought along with supplies for today. V grabbed another box for Oakley’s booth, and Darrell sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as Trevor stomped to his daughter’s area, clearly not happy with what just happened.

“Are y’all still arguing?” Mitchell came to stand beside me.

It was strange to me to see Trevor be so hostile toward someone when he’s been nothing but calm and collected since the day I met him five years ago. But V had a weird growing obsession with Oakley that he loathed, and I knew that fueled the hate-filled venom he spewed at V. “Wouldn’t be anything to argue about if he just fucking listened.”

Mitchell snorted. “You’re just pissed he has a thing for Oakley.”

Trevor’s lips curled unsavorily. “He. Does. Not.”

“He does.” Tyrant opened his mouth as he and Knight came back for more boxes. “Never seen him stare at anything but that fuckin’ bat. He likes lookin’ at Oakley more, though.”

I thought Trevor’s head was going to pop off his shoulders, something that entertained Tyrant and Knight. Tyrant tilted his head at Sarge, who grabbed a crate full of flowers out the back of the truck. “Not as interesting as this big fucker havin’ a thing for the flower girl, though.”

Sarge seized and for a moment, I thought that he was going to drop the crate of flowers. His chest began to heave as if he was trying to calm himself down from doing something stupid like throw the wooden fox at Tyrant’s head. Instead, Sarge settled for, “Watch yourself, fucker. The kids won’t be around forever.”

“Oh, I’m so scared.” Tyrant edged him on. I wondered why he enjoyed messing with Sarge so much when Sarge could easily kill anyone with the flick of his wrist. “Want me to take that from you? I’ve been meaning to talk to Joslyn—”

Sarge threw the crate full of flowers at a cackling Tyrant, who swiftly dodged it. “You’re too easy to fuck with now! I like this side of you.”

“Sarge, grab another box and go help Joslyn set up the floral arrangements,” Darrell commanded before his slanted eyes turned to Tyrant, a snarl painted on his mouth. “Tyrant, you can unload every single fuckin’ box by yourself if you want to take this day as a joke.”

“Calm down, Prez!” the tanned man whined as Sarge stomped off to where Joslyn was currently setting up flower arrangements to auction off. “Just tryin’ to lighten the mood. This day’s all about helpin’ these people forget their struggles.”

“Your idea of lightening the mood is what triggers the fuck out of other people,” Darrell spat, not amused by his behavior. “Don’t fuck with Sarge about Joslyn anymore. You know as well as I do he’s holdin’ back, and we might not be able to stop him when he decides enough is enough with your bullshit.” His voice lowered to a borderline deadly level. “You’ve seen him when we couldn’t stop him before, and I don’t want to end up in Hex’s clinic again because you think bein’ a prick is funny. I don’t want to give you another strike, but keep pushing people and death will be the least of your worries.”

Tyrant slumped, his pierced lip flattening as all amusement was sucked out of him. “Understood, Prez.”

“Strike?” I asked as Tyrant grabbed a crate out of the truck, making his way to the face painting station to drop the extra supplies off there. I wasn’t expecting an answer to my question.

“Strikes are somethin’ Prez does when we fuck up big time. We’re branded with our mistakes to remind ourselves of what we’ve done, and after three, you’re out of the Souls and chained in Hellbound until the day you die.”

I gulped, shakily turning to look at Mitchell. “And he’s already got one?”

His eyes darkened. “Tyrant may look friendly, but I assure you, he’s as deadly as the rest of us. But he’s also the most impulsive. It’s not my business to tell you what he’s done, but just understand that strikes aren’t given lightly.”

“Is he the only one who has a strike?”

“Can’t say.” Mitchell brushed me off, turning to his group of brothers. “What else needs to be done?”

“Just setting up now since Tyrant’s lugging all the boxes by himself,” Darrell explained easily. “I need to talk to Carly and see if she needs help with anything.”

“That’s who I was trying to find.” I looked around, seeing if I could spot a Carly’s red hair and brown eyes running around. That chatty woman was never in one spot for too long. “She should be around here somewhere—”

“Nyla!” A smile tugged on the corner of my lips, already knowing who it was. “You’re here!”

I turned just in time to meet Carly’s hug. “We were just talking about you.”

“My ears were burning for a reason!” She squeezed me, strong despite her size. “Where’s Husk?” A pout was on her pink-painted lips. My forehead scrunched, confused how she knew Husk.

Knight laughed. “Your cousin didn’t want to participate this year.”

Cousin? She was related to one of these men?

She rolled her brown eyes. “Typical. Such an anti-social bastard.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Carly.” Knight filled with sympathy as he grabbed another box from the truck, helping his best friend with his punishment. “It’s almost the anniversary… You know how he gets during this time.”

Remorse flooded her features, obviously forgetting whatever date they were talking about. “I know.”

I was curious at what they were talking about, but I let it slide since we had more important things to do today. Darrell stepped up, asking Carly, “What did you need us to do?”

“Darrell!” she sang in a sweet voice I never heard come out of her sassy mouth before. “Just help Oakley and Joslyn with their stations, everyone else came by yesterday and set up theirs. Everyone else should start arriving soon, so we just need to get the little things done.” She glanced at the kids and people mulling around. “Though some came in early, and the vendor kids are already enjoying the festivities…”

Darrell dipped his chin before walking away to help set up Oakley’s decorating station. “Yes, ma’am.”

A swoon-worthy sigh escaped her lips and I swore her pupils turned into hearts as she watched Darrell retreat. I cleared my throat, drawing her attention away from the MC president. “Who’s on what station?”

“Oakley’s on decorating.” She looked at her clipboard, tongue sticking out with concentration as she hit her head with the tip of her pen. “Joslyn’s on taking raffle tickets for the flower arrangements, Knight and Tyrant are face painting—”

“Don’t you think they’re a bit too…” I looked for the right word to describe them without sounding judgmental, but I couldn’t find a word, so I just blurted it out, “scary to do that? Aren’t you afraid these men are going to scare all these kids?”

“No? Tyrant and Knight own a tattoo shop called Souless Ink, kids love their fake tattoos and hennas. They’re a perfect fit for face painting.” She furrowed her brows, looking at me like I’d gone insane. “Why would they be afraid of them? They’ve been silently helping the shelter for years, not to mention they’re the ones funding these places and finding the unfortunate souls in these situations. The women and children love seeing them when they stop by.”

I’ve been coming here for years, and I haven’t seen them once. “I’ve been coming here for a long time, C. How come I haven’t seen or heard about them until now?”

“They don’t come around that often for obvious reasons. They usually just show up when they find a new survivor and help her set up her room to make her more comfortable.” She shrugged. “They try not to broadcast their association with this place for these women and children’s protection.”

That made sense, I guess. “What about the fundraiser? I haven’t seen them help before.”

“This is the first year they volunteered services instead of just making a hefty donation.” Carly waved at a vendor who was firing up his grill to sell barbeque before turning to me, quirking an eyebrow as a smirk played on her lips. “I wonder why that is… How do you know them?”

The truth was on the tip of my tongue, and I mildly debated on telling her how I got involved with these men, considering she was related to one of the members. But today wasn’t about me or the way my life went to shit; it was about these poor kids and the survivors of heinous crimes. So, I went for a half truth. “I’m dating Mitchell.”

“Mitchell?”

I figured she’d know his real name since she was related to Husk, but I guessed not. “Grim.”

“Ooh, la la. He’s a hottie.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me, shifting her face back in Darrell’s direction. “I’d like to throwdown with Darrell if you know what I mean, but I think Victoria would skin me alive if I even tried.”

I couldn’t picture Victoria being that violent, especially with her kind temperament toward me and my friends during this difficult time for us. I looked over my shoulder, watching her help set up more cupcakes at a kiddie table…

And Darrell glancing at her every so often.

“Anyways,” she drawled, looking back at her list, “Law and Victoria are helping Oakley, Libby’s helping Joslyn…” She pursed her lips. “Sarge and V can do whatever they want; they don’t listen to anyone, anyway. I’m surprised they’re even here. Of course, Hex refuses to be around a crowd of people, and no Husk either.”

I could think of two reasons why Sarge and V were here and not shut in their homes, but that was a story for another day. “How come I haven’t seen you at the clubhouse?”

“I may be related to Husk and know of the MC, but I don’t want to be part of their lifestyle.” Her eyes darkened, silently telling me this was the only time she’d speak of it. “I run shelters for people who get out of dangerous situations. I appreciate the Souls and will happily work with them behind the scenes, but for legal reasons, it’s better I stay out of their business because if something did happen, I would have to testify the truth. And we both know these men don’t do anything the legal way.” Her eyes softened a bit before putting the nail in the coffin of this conversation. “But they saved so many of these women and children that the law just passed off as a lost cause. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

They saved so many of these women and children.

My mind focused on that, peering behind me, spotting Tyrant and Knight under the face paint canopy, entertaining the children and the parents. Out of everyone in the club, minus Mitchell and Darrell, they were the most approachable. The kids were fawning over their colorful tattoos and their moms didn’t mind the view either, despite that their objective was face painting, but whatever made those kids smile was good enough for me.

Joslyn was chatting it up with the faceless Sarge, head pointed in her direction as she held up flower arrangements to show him. Libby just standing off to the side watching them with no interest. I’m glad Joslyn had a bit more help with her station since Claudia’s sick and Law debated on even coming today. Apparently, when he learned V was coming, and where he would be stationed all night, the protectiveness of his little girl prevailed.

Oakley, Victoria, and Law were at Oakley’s station helping the kids decorate cupcakes. V leaned against the canopy post, staying vigilant, his baseball bat by his side, though it was surprisingly covered up to shield the bloodstains from the kids.

Apparently, he listened more than everyone thought.

But still, I didn’t want to think of these men as anything other than the monsters they showed me they were.

Darrell and Mitchell were chatting close to the decorating station, Mitchell sensing my eyes on him as he sent a wink in my direction, making me grit my teeth and turn my attention back to Carly. “What about Mitchell?”

She looked confused. “You and Grim are working the lemonade stand. He said you were okay with it?”

No. No, I wasn’t, but I gave her a strained smile. “Oh, that’s right. Sorry, slipped my mind.”

“I suggested a kissing booth—”

“You what!” I shouted, making her lift her hands up.

“Calm down. Grim shut down the idea, and I think he was about to hit me, so we settled for a lemonade stand instead. Sugar all these kiddos up and send them off to their mommas!” She cackled, looking at the entrance of the Central, seeing more people filter in. “This place is already bustling. Go to your station; I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly!”

She ran away from me, and I knew I didn’t have to worry about the flow of today. Carly could run the whole world without an issue.

“Ready to start our shift, pretty girl?” I turned to see Mitchell, his dimpled smirk not welcomed when I was this irritated with him volunteering me to work with him. “Or did you want to work at a different station? No matter which one you pick, you’ll be working with me.”

“How generous of you.” I made sure my sarcasm leaked out in heavy waves. “Don’t be surprised if accidentally get some lemonade spilled on you.”

“I can cover you in somethin’ too.” I blanched at his innuendo. “Been here enough times. I know places we can sneak off too.” He winked, by passing me to head to the lemonade stand. “Just let me know, pretty girl.”

Yeah, this day couldn’t get any worse.

Leela’s Legacy was in full swing, families running around with smiles and laughter, and children with sticky hands and even sticker faces.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” I handed a little boy, Ken, his lemonade before leaning in to whisper loudly, “I put extra sugar in it, so make sure to bother your mom a little bit more tonight.”

He squealed, thinking it was the funniest thing in the world while his mom chuckled. “Thanks, Nyla. I’ll remember you when I’m up at five AM when he’s trying to climb the ceiling.”

I laughed, glad she knew I was kidding, only trying to make her child laugh. “I’ll make up for it!”

“I’m sure you will.” She grabbed Ken’s hand before waving, disappearing into the heavy crowd.

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, thanking God for a slight break before our next rush. It was a perfect day, a mild seventy-one degrees with the sun shining down.

“Why isn’t your dad involved with these things? Isn’t Leela his mom?”

His question was valid, but it caught me off guard. I kicked at the ground, a frown on my lips. “He’s always busy this time of year. He always schedules some type of business trip…”

“So that’s why you didn’t even talk about him coming.” I shook my head. My dad never cared about this fundraiser; he’s never even donated to it, even though it was for his own mother. “More you talk about your dad, the more I fuckin’ hate him.”

My lips flattened as I glared at him. “Funny. I feel the same the more I talk to you.”

He smirked. “Betcha if I felt between your legs, I could tell you’re lyin’.”

My face flamed. This man was beyond frustrating.

“How come you guys are even here?” I sneered at him. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be watching out for the Bloods?”

“Funny thing about men like them. They don’t come out when they see people who can overpower them,” he casually said. “Because of our little stunt at the party, they know who we are now, and they’ll steer clear of us. The Flock too, if they’re workin’ for them like they say. Until they can get us alone, that is.”

“You talk a lot about this Flock.” I quirked an eyebrow. “How come they’re so hard to find?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” He took a sip of the lemonade he helped himself to. “They have us by our balls, but we’re not gonna fuckin’ rest until each one of them is takin’ a dirt nap.”

My lips flattened. “Maybe you guys aren’t as good at what you’re doing as you think.”

His eyes darkened, the playfulness in his eyes quickly disappearing. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know about, Nyla.”

I gulped at his drastic change in demeanor. I definitely hit a nerve with him, and I instantly regretted what I said. I opened my mouth to say just that.

“H-hello?”

A timid voice stopped me from unleashing frustrated words on Mitchell, and I turned my neck in her direction. She was a short thing, with dull brown hair that matched her amber eyes. “Grim?”

“Hey, Harley.” Mitchell’s tone was soft toward her, rumbling something I refused to accept as jealously in my chest. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was small, like she was scared to speak any louder—something that was unfortunately common with domestic abuse victims. “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“You didn’t interrupt anythin’, sweetheart.” Tone still gentle, he asked, “What can we do for you?”

“I never got to thank you for helping me escape.” Her eyes were watery, unshed tears of gratitude as she looked at Mitchell. “I just started college, thanks to you, and I’m going to be a social worker. Helping people like you do, just… you know, legally.”

He laughed at that, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He looked proud—a side of him I had never seen. “How’s my buddy doin’?”

“He’s at that summer camp you paid for, still talking about how cool Grim is.” Her lips grew into a smile. “He wants to be just like you.”

His lips twisted ruefully, disapproval lining his vision. “Hope he finds a better role model.”

“Anyone who risks their lives to save people in need is someone I’ll be proud of my son becoming.” Her brown eyes shifted to me. “Your boyfriend and his friends are great men. You’re lucky to have someone like him in your life.”

I wanted to deny he was my boyfriend, but she gathered the courage to come up and tell Mitchell what he’s done for her, and I refused to let my pettiness take away from that. “I’m glad he was able to help you, Harley. Would you like some lemonade?”

“Could I have two?” She looked sheepish asking. “It’s Brody’s favorite; I’d like him to have some when he gets back from camp in a few days.”

I nodded, preparing her drinks while Mitchell said, “I’ll make sure to bring some lemonade every time I visit then.”

“You’re going to spoil him rotten.”

“He deserves it,” he answered simply. “I hope you find a man who does the same for you, Harley.”

I peeked over my shoulder, not missing the fear in her eyes. I turned, giving her the two lemonades—snapping a lid on one so she could travel with it easily—as she smiled uncomfortably at the prospect of being with anyone again. I didn’t know her full story, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out why someone was at a domestic abuse shelter. “Thanks again.”

She walked away, blending into a crowd of people who all shared similar stories.

“Her husband beat her for years,” Mitchell explained, going to the pitcher of lemonade and pouring himself another cup. “No one took her seriously, and the ones who knew didn’t care enough to do anything about it. I was doing some recon in the shady part of Diamond Ridge. She was trying to buy ice cream for Brody, but couldn’t afford it. I bought it for them, and she just broke down cryin’, tellin’ her life story to a stranger because everyone who was supposed to help her didn’t.”

My heart went out for her, a story that was way too common within the walls of the shelter. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah.” He side-eyed me. “Still think we’re not good at what we do? If it wasn’t for us, her and her kid would be in a grave. We’ve saved damn near every woman and child who has walked into this building, Nyla.”

I looked down at my feet, shame filling me at my previous comments. I’ve seen a whole new side of the Souls today. My mind just didn’t want to accept the fact they were good men, but anyone who saved the innocent from abusive situations had a bit of good in them.

His knuckles tightened, forearms shaking with the force of it. “We’re tryin’ to find the Flock. Tryin’ to find every fucker who has laid their hands on the women and children in the shelter. People deserve to know they’re safe, but they won’t knowin’ their abusers are still alive. We don’t know a lot about the Flock, but we do know they’re the scum of the Earth who don’t deserve breath in their lungs.”

I gulped, suddenly uncomfortable with the shift of emotion I felt about Mitchell. What he and the Souls did for these women painted them in a good light, even if what they did wasn’t ethical. The other part of me remembered the party, the blood splatter, and the way they held us against our will for three days.

But they didn’t hurt you.

They only hurt the ones who made a sport of hurting those who couldn’t protect themselves…

I shut my eyes, trying to rid the logical thought about these men out of my mind. Willing my stubbornness to remember what they did, not what they didn’t do.

The mood between us was shot, but we didn’t have time to dwell on the heaviness Harley brough upon us as another group of children came up to us, chubby cheeks coated with dry icing. They came for more of a sugar fix, and I giggled watching their poor parents trying to keep up with them.

By the time the rush died down, so did the fundraiser. The items were auctioned off at great prices, all the vendor tables were nearly bare, and whatever the food trucks had left, they were boxing up to donate to the shelter. As people trinkled out back to their cars, Carly came over to me with a beaming smile.

“This was our best year yet, Ny!” She was so excited I would’ve thought she just drank a whole pitcher of lemonade with the way she was bouncing. “I think these hot biker men are a must every year.”

I did my best to make my smile look genuine, though I absolutely loathed that idea. “Maybe.”

“Anyway, it’s late, and I’m exhausted,” she said stifling a yawn. “All the vendors are heading out and will come by to collect their things tomorrow. I already got Oakley’s leftovers packed up for the kiddos.”

“Thanks for hosting such a great event, Carly.” Mitchell slid his unwanted touch on my hip, making me bite the inside of my cheek to be on my best behavior in front of Carly. “Can’t wait for next year.”

“Me neither. I think with more planning, we’ll make it even better. We’ll be able to buy new furniture for all these apartments with these proceeds.” Usually her enthusiasm was infectious, but I just wanted her to leave so I could peel Mitchell’s hand off my hip. I watched as the Souls, Oakley, and Joslyn made their way toward us. “Great turnout, guys! Thanks for all your help.”

Darrell dipped his chin at her. “Thanks for having us.”

“Carly here thinks we should volunteer every year.” His grip tightened on my hip, pissing me off even more. “I think that’s a good idea, don’t you, Prez?”

Darrell smirked at me knowingly. “Can’t wait.”

I couldn’t say anything. These men were doing good for the less fortunate, and who was I to deny them more money just because I didn’t want to be around these men? I was hoping by next year I would be a forgotten memory to them…

So why did that thought hurt?

Stupid, stupid heart.

Another stifled yawn from Carly. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys when we start planning for the next year.”

She walked off, leaving our large group the last ones in the Central.

Sarge turned from the group, wordlessly walking away until Joslyn shouted, “Sarge? Where are you going?”

“You’re stayin with Vic tonight,” he grunted, not bothering to look back at her. “Got shit to do.”

She looked crestfallen, face falling towards the ground; her shoulders slumped dejectedly. “Oh, okay.”

I guess Sarge’s soft spot for Joslyn was bigger than we all thought since he turned around and angled his head so it was pointed in her direction. “Morning.”

Joslyn looked up, eyes brighter. I guess being around Sarge as much as she has, she was able to decipher the meaning of his short words. “Promise?”

He turned before dipping his chin, taking off in the direction of his bike. Joslyn’s smile returned to her face.

“Looks like it’s you, me, and Libs, sweets.” Victoria walked over to her, slinging an arm around her neck and looking between Oakley and me. “Do you girls—”

“No,” Mitchell answered for me. “Nyla’s got other plans tonight.”

Since it was just us, I wasn’t afraid to let my true feelings show. “Like hell I do! If I want to hangout with my friends, I can!”

He smirked as I inhaled sharply, realizing what I just did.

I called Victoria and Libby my friends.

“Cute that you finally accepted them as friends, but the answer’s still no.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “You’ve been usin’ that sharp tongue on me all night, and I want you to use it somewhere else—”

“Don’t need to hear this shit!” Trevor exclaimed, covering his ears with his palms. I didn’t want anyone to hear about mine and Mitchell’s sex life either, especially the man I thought of as a second father. “Come on, Oak. Unless you want to spend the night with Victoria?”

She looked over at the group, longing in her jade eyes but ultimately, she shook her head. “No, I just want to go home.”

“I understand, sugar.” Victoria winked at her. “We’ll get you comfortable enough to stay with us one day.”

The look Oakley gave her told me she didn’t think so.

“Alright, we’ll see you guys later, then.” Trevor waved, walking off along with Oakley and as always, V followed behind them like a loyal dog.

“V!” We heard Trevor’s shout. “Stop fuckin’ following us!”

V dropped his bat from his shoulder to the ground, the guard that hid all the dry blood from the children falling off, littering the ground and showing the bat’s true purpose. I just hope he wasn’t going to use it on Trevor.

Anything goes with a man as mysterious as V, and not a lot was known about him from what Mitchell had told me in passing.

“Dad.” Oakley clutched Trevor’s sleeve, looking back at V unsteadily. I saw her throat bob under his weight of his gaze, taking a small step towards her dad. “Let’s just go, please?”

With a strained jaw Trevor wordlessly turned to Darrell. “I’m not responsible for the bullet I put in his head if he doesn’t leave Oakley alone.”

A cackle sounded in the semi-empty parking lot. “What? I thought he didn’t have a thing for Oakley?”

Trevor’s head snapped to Tyrant at his comment. “He doesn’t!”

“Denying it doesn’t make it go away.” Mitchell’s grinned as his hand tightened on my hip, I put mine on top of his using my nails to try to ward his touch off me, but he held steady despite my clawing. “Do you have a thing for Oakley, V?”

V shrugged, not taking his gaze off an uncomfortable looking Oakley. “Thing is a broad term.”

Tyrant whistled lowly. “That’s practically a love declaration. When’s the wedding? I can help you plan; I know a good place for floral arrangements.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd, sans Oakley, Law and V. I could see the red on the tops of his ears under the fluorescent streetlight. He stomped away from the boisterous crowd, Oakley scurrying right behind him.

And, like clockwork, V followed behind them.

“God, those two are fun to watch with those girls,” Tyrant cackled. “Never seen ‘em act like this before toward women. Hell, never even seen them with a woman before.”

“What they do in their free time is none of your business.” Darrell chastised him.

Tyrant waved his words off. “Anyway, Knight and I got some shit to do tonight. So, we’ll see y’all whenever shit inevitably goes down again.”

“Aren’t you a ray of fuckin’ sunshine.” Tyrant laughed at Darrell’s pessimistic compliment as he walked to Knight, who was standing directly next to the row of bikes, before they took off, gravel spitting beneath their wheels as they took off down the darkened road.

“Alright, beauts.” Victoria’s smile was big. “Let’s—”

“Will you girls be okay?”

Victoria’s eyes softened at his question. “Besides dealing with Libby’s hangover, we’ll be fine. Thanks, Darrell.”

“You did a good job hostin’ this event, Nyla.” Darrell’s words were directed at me, but his eyes lingered in her direction as Victoria, Joslyn, and Libby made their way to her car before turning to us. He turned to me, slight pride in his dark eyes. “Despite your feelings toward us, this is a cause we’re passionate about. Every woman and child deserves to know they’re safe.”

I quirked an eyebrow. I was a woman, and I did not feel safe with these men. Darrell chuckled at my silent response. “You’re with us mostly for our protection and believe it or not, yours, too. Who’s gonna stop the Bloods or the Flock if they show up at your front door, Nyla?”

Mitchell.

I froze, hating that his name was the first thing that popped into my mind. I did not want his protection, nor his dubious care. I just wanted to be away from him. “Myself.”

Mitchell snorted beside me. “You can’t overpower grown men, pretty girl. You couldn’t even punch Jordyn without damn near breaking your hand.”

My face heated at that embarrassing memory.

Darrell chuckled at our display, stifling his own yawn. “See you guys later. Call if you need somethin’, Grim.”

And with that, Mitchell and I were alone, and a question lingered on my mind.

“How come a brother doesn’t have to be with them when they stay at Victoria’s?”

Mitchell snorted. “Victoria’s more than capable of taking care of herself, as well as Libby and Joslyn. They’re safer with her than they are with us…” Mitchell paused. “Well, in Joslyn’s case, she’s safest when she’s with Sarge. Fucker can deny it all he wants, but he’s acting like he’s gotta middle school crush on her.”

From what Joslyn’s told us about the way Sarge was with her, it was like Sarge was more curious about what he felt about Joslyn instead of having a crush on her.

Sarge didn’t seem like a man capable of feelings—hell, half the men in the Souls didn’t.

We began walking back to Mitchell’s motorcycle, my mind heavy with confusion and misguidance. Today was a side I never suspected to see from such burly men.

“Don’t think today made me forgive you.” My voice was small, but lighter than it’s been in the week since I’ve been stuck with him. I didn’t realize how much of an impact the Souls had behind the scenes for the people in need. “But thank you for helping so many women and children.”

“I just wish we got to them sooner.”

My face scrunched. “What do you mean?”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes hazing over in a memory. “Lots of ‘em went missing. Only reason why we got involved is because of Prez. Once he caught wind of what was happening, he dedicated himself to stopping it.”

“Do you think it was the Bloods?”

“Possibly. The Flock wants these low-level gangs to get in their good graces doing asinine shit.” His gaze hardened, a fire amplifying the green of his eyes. “Those fuckin’ assholes will do anything to get their power kink satisfied.”

I thought about all the women and children Grandma had helped throughout the years, hoping they were doing well and thanking the heavens above that they were helped out of their situations.

Now if only I could find a way out of mine.

CHAPTER 18

Mitchell

I  collapsed, the only thing keeping me from crushing Nyla was putting my weight on my forearms. I looked down at the pale skin of her back, smug as I saw the red marks left behind from my lips assaulting her skin. I couldn’t help myself but to plant a kiss in between her shoulder blades, not missing the way she stiffened at the contact but choosing to ignore it. I flipped to my right, moving my forearm to cover my eyes as a content sigh escaped my lips.

I felt Nyla shift to my right, already scurrying to get away from me. “Leaving already?”

She turned her head, a scowl on her pretty lips. “Our arrangement doesn’t involve me staying in bed with you. It involves you fucking me so I’m less tempted to kill you.”

Would make my life a lot easier if you were the one pulling the trigger. My intrusive thought was unwarranted, but not untrue. I was dead set on having Nyla’s face be the last one I saw before I left this world.

My mind was on a downhill spiral, mood plummeting as my brain fogged over as my intrusive thoughts began to plague me once more. It usually happened after I fucked Nyla. I felt so fuckin’ high when I was with her, like me betraying her trust never had happened. Then, when it was over and her heated pants turned to heated stares, the dark thoughts always came back. I needed Nyla to keep me grounded. “What’s one thing you want to do before you leave this world?”

She pulled her leggings over her hips as she looked at me skeptically. “Why do you care?”

“Humor me.”

She straightened her top, not looking in my direction as she answered, “Visit my grandma’s house.” She smoothed out the fabric. “I haven’t been there since she died.”

That surprised me. “You’ve never been back to your grams’ house?”

“No. If I went there, I’d have to accept the reality that she’s gone.” The pain in her face made me hate myself a little more for asking. I’ve caused her enough pain—it seems that’s the only thing I was good at doing to her. “Dad told me he would take care of her belongings—get them in a storage shed and make sure her house was doing more than just collecting dust.”

“You just trusted him to do that?” Resentment for her dad and what he said to her still pissed me off every time I thought about it. Not like you have room to talk, asshole.

I know I was a hypocrite. I hurt her just as badly, if not worse than her dad did. He couldn’t take his words back, just like I knew she would never forget me playing with her heart. The fact he told us he knew who me and my brothers were had been throwing me for a loop since that day. He could be bluffing—but Vincent Brooks didn’t look like a man who lied. He had a high and mighty reputation around Diamond Ridge, according to the research Knight conducted.

After our initial meeting, I immediately went to Knight, asking him to find everything he could about this scumbag. Something was off about him, and it wasn’t because he immediately hated me—that was the only thing I could find redeemable about the man. It was the fact that he knew of us, could recognize me from the gang, and that didn’t sit right with me. There were only a few groups who knew who we were, and the majority of those groups wished they hadn’t.

But his record was clean, with not even a fuckin’ traffic ticket to tarnish the perfect name. Anonymous interviews and following associates all proved the same. Vincent Brooks was a charismatic, friendly man who did no wrong and everything right for his community.

Those were the ones people had to look out for the most. The nice façade ended as soon as the door was closed, and in Nyla’s case, when she defied him. Just thinking of what he said to her, her looking gutted to the point tears threatened to fall down her cheeks…

Yeah, I should’ve killed him. I hated the man, and I’ve had no problem getting’ my hands dirty for her. They were itchin’ to do something violent, and her dad seemed like the perfect person to start my rage streak back up again.

Nyla already proclaimed to hate me, and that would just solidify it.

I looked at her, those gorgeous silver eyes scrunched in confusion. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t trust the bastard.”

“You’re the least trustworthy person I know,” she spat at me. I could’ve countered that she trusted me enough to make her feel good, but I knew that wouldn’t do either of us any good. “I know what he said wasn’t—”

“I know you’re not about to excuse his behavior, Nyla.”

“I wasn’t,” she lied, but I let her this time since she looked so relaxed. Our agreement seemed to be helping her. Well, not really an agreement, more like me telling her how it was gonna be and her finally not making a smart-ass remark about it. Sex was very beneficial in more ways than one.

“Your lips are too pretty to lie.” They were made for other things, like panting out my name in the throes of passion like she was doing just moments before.

My mind went back to our first date, and how she told me no one wanted to be around her as a kid, besides her dad and gram. I knew kids and parents could be cruel, but all of them? To a sweet girl like Nyla? That didn’t add up to me, especially now.

“So, you didn’t have any friends growin’ up?”

She shook her head. “No, but it was fine.” How is it okay to not have any friends?

“He kept you sheltered for a reason, pretty girl. No parents just keep their kids away from other children for no reason. I don’t trust your dad.”

She looked like she was trying to process my words, tongue poking the inside of her cheek—a cute habit when she was deep in thought. “I guess it doesn’t bother me since I was pulled out of school in sixth grade. My social anxiety got to the point where I would have panic attacks at the thought of going to school, knowing no one wanted to be around me. So my dad pulled me out and Grandma home-schooled me.”

I knew kids could be cruel, but I just couldn’t picture anyone not wanting to be friends with Nyla. The vibes I got from her dad were that he was a total control freak, and just the bits she’s told me about her life growing up proved that. The fact that he manipulated her grief into not going back to her gram’s house after she died…? What kind of dad did that?

She seemed to be considering my words. “The day he was mean to me… it opened my eyes a bit more. I’ve always tried to be a good daughter, but the one time I didn’t listen, he was so… cruel. I don’t understand why.” Her voice faltered slightly. “I thought it was just me overthinking things—people say cruel things to others without really thinking. But he’s never said one mean word to me before.”

“He’s losing his power over you.” I got up on my knees, resisting to smirk at the way her eyes immediately drifted to my cock—the blood flowing there as I watched her throat bob. “People don’t react well when their puppet gets out of control.”

“I’m not my dad’s puppet. He said things out of anger, and we’re going to talk it out once he gets back in town, end of discussion,” she spat, done with our conversation. “I have to get to the clubhouse; Victoria’s going to show me how to bartend today.” I’m glad she was getting along with Victoria, not that it was hard. Victoria was a literal ray of sunshine and sass, and if you didn’t like her, then there was something wrong with you.

Though, I wouldn’t accept drinks from Nyla—there would be a good chance some cyanide would be in there.

I gripped her clothed hips from my position at the end of the bed, pulling her closer to me. “I wanna eat before I go.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Didn’t you just eat breakfast—”

My heated gaze told her I wasn’t talking about food.

Her eyes glazed over, watching me as I pulled her legging and underwear down until I couldn’t reach. “Take ‘em off.”

“We just had sex.”

“What can I say?” My eyes hooded, my best attempt at a seductive look as I licked my lips already anticipating the taste of her cunt on my tongue. “I want seconds.”

“Insatiable bastard,” she grumbled but made no complaint as she pulled her leggings and panties off completely, exposing the expanse of her creamy thighs and my mouth watering like it did every time she exposed her body to me.

“Now put one foot on the bed. Let me make you feel good before you change your mind.”

Her foot on the bed gave me access to her dripping cunt, making my mouth water. Her pussy was my second favorite part of her body.

My first was her eyes, how she wasn’t able to hide what she was feeling. And right now, she wanted to feel my tongue inside her.

Who was I to deny my pretty girl anything after everything that’s happened?

“Eyes on me,” I commanded when she threw her head back in anticipation. When she didn’t listen, I released a hot breath, earning a soft moan from her. “No eyes, no pleasure.”

I almost laughed at how quickly she snapped her head to look at me. Eyes ready for my descent, but like all the other times, I took my time. I leisurely traced my tongue along her thighs, hot breath cooling the warm areas I was leaving behind. She squirmed as the warmth of my breath returned to her core, bucking her hips, anxious to relieve the euphoria she would feel.

The only feeling I was allowed to make her feel.

My lips tightened on her clit, giving it a sharp suck, the melody of her pleasured cry ringing through my ears and encouraging me to continue. She could deny how I didn’t own her all she wanted, but my tongue in her pussy proved otherwise.

I applied the barest of pressure with my tongue against her clit, rapidly flickering it, teasing her. Herthroaty breaths matched my pace until I flattened the muscle against her clit, eliciting a moan she couldn’t hold in anymore.

Her pupils dilated, never leaving mine as her body shuttered in a familiar motion as I covered her pussy with my mouth, tongue slowing down on her clit to draw out her orgasm, making her tremble with my sensual movements.

I made sure her eyes were locked on my face—specifically my lips as I traced the seams with my tongue slowly, her arousal still coating my tongue as I spread it to my lips.

“You look a bit hungry, too, Nyla.” Her eyes were wild with lust and a tinge of hate. She hated how good I could make her feel—which made her hate me more.

Good. I wanted her to hate me, needed her to hate me.

Despite her loathing claim, she couldn’t tear her eyes from me stroking myself. Pre-come dripped out the head of my cock, drawing not only her eyes, but that devilish tongue to lick her enticing lips I wanted wrapped around my cock. “I know you want a taste, Nyla. Don’t be shy.” My grin was teasing, igniting the dormant fire in her eyes. “You haven’t been before.”

Her eyes narrowed, the flames bringing out the silver more than usual. “You’re pretty dumb to let my teeth anywhere near your little problem.”

My lips turned up at her jest, hand going to her cheeks and squishing them together, making those pouty lips of her even more enticing. “There’s nothing little about it, and you know that, baby. It fills every inch of that pretty mouth of yours. Should we test if it fits down your throat?”

Her knees hit the bed, crawling over to me, my eyes focused on her face as her eyes remained on me like I taught her to do. My mouth watered, anticipating her pretty lips wrapped around my cock—something I dreamt about.

She leaned down, tucking a strand behind her ear, showing more of the delicate flesh of her neck as her hot breath hit my sensitive cock. I groaned as the heat of her mouth collided with the chill of pre-come that dripped down from the tip.

Her small hand wrapped around my shaft, eyes looking innocent, even though her actions were anything but as she squeezed my cock too tightly, playing the wrong fucking game as I bared my teeth at her in warning. She promptly ignored my warning, and I forgot all about it as she sucked my balls into her mouth, gliding her hand up and down my length the way I taught her. My head shot back, unable to stop the groan at the pleasure she was making me feel.

She released my balls, delicate mouth wrapping around the head of my cock, the tip of her tongue lapping up the pre-come that beaded at the tip before going as deep at that seductive mouth of hers could. Her head bobbed, tongue twirling around the base with each dip of her head before she pulled away, a string of spit still connecting us as she flattened her tongue, licking from my balls to the tip, leaving bruising sucks along the way.

The pressure in my balls was too much to handle, and as much as I wanted to finish on her face, loving to see my essence clinging to her skin, there was another place I wanted to fill.

She was about to descend that naughty mouth of hers on my cock when I pulled back, her eyes laced with confusion before a yelp escaped as I grabbed her hips, forcing her to turn the other way, flattening her body to the sheets by pressing my hand into the small of her back. I didn’t miss the way she gripped the sheets, hips slightly swaying in anticipation of what was to come.

“Ass up, Nyla,” I commanded with another resounding smack against the ample flesh, making her pant. She didn’t do as I asked, and my hands went to her hips, dragging them up in the air with one more spank, loving the red left behind from my hand. She decided to be a defiant minx, dropping her hips back to the mattress, earning a growl from me. Roughly grabbing one of her cheeks in a bruising grip, I urged her body. “I’m not going to ask again. Ass. Up.”

She didn’t need to be told again as she lifted her hips up toward my hips, the impressions of my fingers already leaving a contrast of dark against her light skin. Her thighs shook with need as she held herself up on her hands, head turned to the side with a pleading look in those silver eyes.

Nyla was a nightmare I never wanted to recover from.

Without warning, my hand went to the side of her face, her looking at me skeptically before leaning slightly into my touch, causing me to grin menacingly. Luckily, she didn’t get a chance to see that look before I pushed the side of her face into the mattress, her face squished between my hand and the soft fabric of my sheets.

She looked fearful, not used to me being rough like this in our previous night’s together. She told me before I should make promise on my idle threats.

And this is what she got for playing a losing game.

I didn’t release the pressure on the side of her head as I bent over and whispered in her ear, “Get ready for a ride, Nyla.”

She tensed as my free hand lined my cock up with her entrance, not bothering to wait until she was comfortable before slamming myself inside her. Her cries edged me on in my relentless, bruising pursuit to take out all my anger, all my frustration on the woman currently surrendering to my cock.

Her hands fisted the sheet, pale knuckles turning a ghastly white at my rough treatment, her mewls encouraging me not to stop. Her moans were a melody I never wanted to end as each punishing thrust of my hips built the pressure inside me. “Fuck! Your cunt, baby. I’m addicted to the way your cunt squeezes my cock. I can feel the fuckin’ way you love me dominating you.”

Another hearty breath escaped, a trail of slight drool spreading to the mattress from her lips. Pride that I fucked away her ability to speak made me go even harder. “I’m gonna fill this tight cunt with my cum, and then were gonna go to the clubhouse with it still filled. Want that, Nyla? Walking around with my cum in your tight snatch, feeling me with every step you take?”

“Yes.” Her moan was barely audible. “Fill me up, Mitchell!”

Who was I to deny my pretty girl?

I was getting close, just five more hard thrusts before her pussy milked me for all I was worth, drawing out her pleasure and mine with short, shallowed thrusts. I drew my hips back, tempted to push myself back into her as my cum connected my softening cock to her. Nyla dropping her hips back to the bed, my cum spilling onto the guest bed.

“Not allowed to clean yourself up,” I reiterated, getting off the bed, even though my legs were weak with the force of my orgasm. “We have to go to the club, remember?”

I cackled as I left the room, not missing the way she called me a bastard under her breath.

I didn’t know how I was going to control myself knowing she was going to have my cum between her legs until I told her she could clean herself.

I groaned. Today was going to be a long, frustrating day.

Nyla took a sip of the strong—heavy on the strong—raspberry lemonade Victoria made for her. Victoria did it all around here, from cooking to cleaning to bartending. I think she was happy to make something other than just handing a brother a beer out of a cooler. After regretting being with me—twice—last night, Nyla wanted to go somewhere where she, and I quote, wouldn’t be tempted by me.

“You plannin’ on getting drunk today?” Victoria teased as Nyla was downing her drink like she’d never get another one.

“If I’m able to.” She took another sip, making me grin. “I’m being forced live with him. Alcohol is a necessity to survive at this point.”

“Your cum on my tongue says otherwise.” And now the drink was completely gone, and she was asking Victoria for another. Looks like her bartending lessons would be left for another day when she was sober.

“Damn girl, you’re a guzzler.” Tyrant came up to the seat beside Nyla, who was ignoring him, but he shot me a wink over her shoulder. “Betcha love that, Grim.”

I wished I could have a beer. Dealing with Tyrant sober was a tall task I didn’t feel like dealing with today. “What’re you doin’ here, Tyrant?”

He shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle of beer Victoria put in front of him. “Is it a crime to spend time with my family?”

I snorted. “Since it’s a Saturday morning, and God only knows who you did last night, I’m thinking you might’ve committed one.”

“I’m on a dry spell,” he grumbled, propping his chin on his hand. “No woman’s been getting me goin’ lately.”

That was a surprise. The majority of us weren’t ruled by our dicks. Hell, when we decided to go out, most of the women steered clear of us, especially when Sarge and V were there. Out of all the men, Tyrant got his dick wet the most. “So what have you been doing instead?”

“My hand.” He shrugged, making Nyla choke on her new drink, and I patted her back. Tyrant thought it was amusing. “Never met such crude men in your life, have ya?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“You’ll get used to this, beaut, I promise.” Victoria’s tone was encouraging. “How’re your friends doing? I haven’t seen them since the fundraiser.”

Nyla squirmed in her seat, making me hide my smirk behind the palm of my hand as she tried to get comfortable despite the mess I left between her legs. “They’re doing fine. Oakley’s busy with her business, and Joslyn’s busy studying and working.”

“Have you been back to work?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not our busy season, so extra help isn’t needed. Claudia would let me work, but I just…” She looked at me solemnly. “Don’t think I’m mentally ready to deal with people.”

“Slang for we don’t trust her not to tell,” I decoded for her, because it was the truth. Oakley had a good reason not to expose us, as did Joslyn, but despite Nyla’s claims that she wouldn’t, she had no concrete reason to keep silent about us and what we did.

“Well, in that case, you can come here and help me keep these men in line!” Victoria’s grin was bright. “It’s a full-time job, and I need some help since Libby’s not exactly authoritative. I need some extra sass.”

Tyrant snorted. “You do a good job keepin’ our asses in line, Vic.”

“Perhaps,” she mused, exhaustion lingering in her eyes. “But it’s a lot of work, and havin’ help would do me a world of good.”

She snorted. “No offense, but I don’t want to be around them in the first place. No way I would help keep them in line.”

Victoria’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. She knew what type of men we were, hating when people judged us, but Nyla had every right to feel the way she did about us. “I understand.”

“Don’t ant anythin’ to do with us?” Tyrant asked Nyla, his tone confused. “We’re tryin’ to help ya here.”

“Keeping me against my will in a place I don’t want to be is a weird way to help.” She crinkled her nose at Tyrant’s defense. “You guys dumped me into a world I didn’t want to know existed.”

“Better you learned it our way.” Tyrant got up, surprisingly whimsical as he took his beer to his room at the club. “Believe it or not, we’re not the hard way of learning the lessons of this world. It exists, but you’d rather learn it from us than the Flock.”

His words left her stewing. It was consistent with what we’ve been telling her and the girls because it was the truth. They thought our ways were cruel—which, there was no denying they were—but it was nothing compared to the Flock.

They’d rip her soul out of her body, letting her suffer in purgatory before they gave into her pleas of ending her life. And even then, they still wouldn’t.

We’ve seen the aftermath of what they did to people. They needed to be stopped. I refused to rest until every last member of the Flock was bleeding from their throats.

The thought of that happening to Nyla… She should be saying grace that we found her first. She was always going to get involved, being associated with Joslyn as closely as she was. I downed the rest of my beer, hoping it would fade the images of Nyla being at the hands of the Flock. I needed to get up, to move. I stood. “Come take a walk with me?”

She eyed me before glancing at Victoria, who tilted her head in my direction, making her sigh. Victoria had a way with people I would never understand. She begrudgingly stood, making sure she wasn’t within reaching distance of me, which I’d grant her… for now.

I led us to the backyard of the clubhouse, my favorite place to go when I had a lot to think about. It was spacious, not busy, and perfect for letting you just relax. The only thing out here was our patio set, a grill for cookouts, and a shed where we kept our tools and… other things.

“This would be a nice place to do bonfires,” she thought aloud as she glanced around the spacious backyard. We usually held gatherings out here, sans the bonfires. For good reason, too.

“We don’t do fires here.”

She tilted her head. “Why’s that?”

“Sarge doesn’t like fire. Apparently, it triggers the fucker into a murderous rage.” We discovered this by accident when Sarge first came to join us. Tyrant lit a fire out here to celebrate our new brother, and his screams… I could still hear them ringing six years later. Everything around him turned bruised and bloody, and it was then we learned that he had to always have sedatives around when he was triggered. There was no way else to calm him down.

“What happened to him?”

I honestly didn’t know. Darrell found him standing in the middle of the road with blood on his hands. He refused to tell us what Sarge hid under his hood, saying if he wanted us to know then he would show us himself. Whatever it was, I think it had something to do with how half of his body looked like it’d been set on fire. “Dunno. Somethin’ horrible, though. He doesn’t talk much.”

“That’s what Joslyn’s said,” she mused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do they call you Grim?”

“Told you it was my road name.”

“There’s more to it than just that.”

“It’s short for Grim Reaper,” I answered truthfully. If she wanted the truth, then she would get the full one. “When people see me, it’s a sure death—physically, mentally, or emotionally depends on their sins.”

I watched her throat work nervously, gaining the courage to ask her next question. “Like you did with me?”

You didn’t have a sin worth destroying you over.

My lips flattened, contemplating the answer I was going to give her. The hardest part about seeing Nyla was seeing her eyes. When we first met, her silver eyes shone more with each time she saw me, almost making the color of her irises translucent.

That all changed the night of the party. Now, instead of the translucent eyes full of hope and admiration, I witnessed the dull and lifeless fear that overtook them. Everything she did with me now wasn’t willing; it was coerced from fearful tactics I presented to her. Each sexual encounter, each dinner, each time she looked at me like she’d rather be with anyone else but me took another beautiful shade of her eyes away…

Now instead of looking at shining silver, her eyes were a dull gray.

“Yeah.” My throat was suddenly dry, making the words come out raspy. “Like I did with you.”

“I just… I don’t know what to think,” she confessed, confliction evident in her tone. “The way you guys were at the fundraiser with all those women and children worshipping the ground you walked on like you were their saviors… And from the stories I heard, you were.”

We’d help save a lot of women and children from abusive situations on the downlow. They didn’t know us by our names and that was intentional. We couldn’t stop them from spreading the MCs name, but we asked them not to do that since it might put an unintentional target on their backs, and there was no guarantee we would get to them before the bullet hit them.

“We don’t like hurting the innocent, Nyla.” I knew my confession was more information than I should share, but I was beyond caring. I just wanted to see a slight spark of light in her eye. “You were an unfortunate casualty, but we had to make sure you didn’t know anything about the Bloods to help protect the women and children in the shelter.”

I could tell she was thinking about all the children’s faces, their toothless grins and icing-smeared cheeks. The way the moms looked relieved for the first time in their young lives. She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew we had good intentions with an unfortunate outcome. “Besides, with Jordyn’s involvement and Joslyn’s past, not to mention Oakley being Law’s hidden secret, there was a good chance you were always going to get involved, Nyla. And despite the way we brought you into our world, I’m glad we found you first.”

“I wish you didn’t.” Her voice was hushed, not meaning for me to hear what she said but I did, and it was just like taking a bullet to the heart. Actually, I think a bullet would’ve hurt a lot less. She looked down at her feet, voice low when she asked me her next question, “What made you this way?”

I barked out a laugh. So much. So much made me into this man that was nothing short of a fuck up. But, just like this conversation, she was getting all of me.

“My sins corrupted my soul twelve years ago.” My voice was hard, the memories of that night seeping in and driving my anger to the surface. “And when I saw you, it was the first break I had from my purgatory. I wanted you—more than my sins, more than myself—even if it meant I was going to hurt you. I can’t regret it, because it brought you to me.”

She slammed her eyes shut, her body breaking out in small tremors. She didn’t have to accept the words, but they were the truth. I would rather have Nyla for the little amount of time I would than not have her at all. She was naïve to how the world really was—how the darkness of man was eclipsing the light at a steady rate.

“I don’t believe you.”

“After everything I’ve done to you, I don’t expect you to.” I leveled her with a look. “But our intentions were good… You saw it at the fundraiser.”

The tensed silence between us was uncomfortable, lasting longer as neither of us knew what to say. Because she knew I was right and she was struggling with the fact that maybe I was a better man than she thought.

But I couldn’t allow her to feel anything but disdain or indifference toward me.

And we were way past her feeling neutral about me.

She took a deep, calming breath. “I’m staying with Oakley tomorrow night.”

“Is that so?” I mused. She was cute for even thinking she could get away from me. She didn’t bother to ask me since she knew what my response would be. “What if I said you couldn’t?”

“I’m going to be with Trevor, so I’ll be protected,” she argued. I knew Law would watch out for her, but I didn’t like her being away from me. “Oakley needs me; she’s having a difficult time with this like I am.”

That was an understatement. Oakley was already reserved, but from what Law was telling us, she was scared to leave her room. It was a hard thing to accept, and Law was struggling with this whole thing, too. He felt like he’s losing his daughter.

I took that into consideration. A night with Oakley might be beneficial, not only for them, but for my brother, too. As much as we fought with each other—sometimes physically—we were closer than blood at the end of the day. I smirked, making her still with my words. “If you want to stay the night of Law’s you’re going to have to do something for me.”

“I did something for you.” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, making those beautiful tits of her pop out, tantalizing me. “I didn’t bite your dick off this morning. You’re welcome.”

I tsked, corners of my lips turning up in a predatory smirk. “You didn’t, and now I want that sharp tongue of yours wrapped around my cock.”

“You’re getting greedy about this deal.” She sneered at me. “We had sex twice this morning.”

I quirked my brow. “And?”

Her facade faltered a bit when she knew I wouldn’t back down. I figured she’d learn that by now. “Doing it three times in a day is too much for me.”

I shrugged, walking over to her with slow, calculating steps. “Not for me.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly thinking I was joking until I stepped right in front of her, grasping her chin between my fingers. Forcing her pretty eyes to look into mine. “Either you get on your knees out here, or I’ll drag you inside and you can give everyone a show. I don’t want them to see what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours, but if that’s the only way you’ll wrap your lips around me, then so be it.”

She tried to rip her head away from my hold, but I held her strong. Her lips sneered, silver eyes dancing with arousal and infuriation towards me. A smirk grew on the corner of my lips as her body lowered, knees hitting the deck. I gave a mocking pet to her brown hair. “Good girl.”

My head tilted back at her familiar hands dragging up my thighs, brushing the lightest of touches over my stiffening cock. One masterful hand was undoing the button of my jeans while the other one was still rubbing me.

I looked through the patio doors as her delicate fingers pushed my zipper down. My threat earlier was true, but if anyone seen what she was doing to me, I was going to put a bullet between their eyes.

No one was allowed to see Nyla on her knees but me. And if they had the privilege of seeing her so compromised, that would be the last thing they ever saw.

I sighed as her hand gripped me after she pulled my jeans and boxers down over my thick cock. I tucked my chin, loving the way her hand worked me up and down. Her eyes peaked up at me, staying locked onto mine as the tip of her snarky tongue licked the pre come from the slit, making me hiss between my clenched teeth.

“Fuck.” That pretty mouth of hers wrapped around me, taking me as far as she could, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I fisted my hand into her silky hair, half afraid I was going to rip some out as she bobbed her head up and down the length of my cock. Giving special attention to the head because she knew that’s what drove me wild.

And my smart girl thought that’s what would make her get away from me sooner.

I thought to my earlier threat making the rest of the blood in my body all making my already hard cock feel like it was going to burst because of the pressure of it.

She tried to pull back, but I steeled my hand. “Nuh-uh, remember earlier? When you used that smart mouth of yours?”

She looked up at me, confusion in her silver eyes as she racked that mind of hers of what I was talking about, mouth still engorged on my cock. “Come on, I know you remember.”

Her eyes dawned with realization, making the corner of my lips turn up. “Were going to test my theory out.”

I didn’t give her a chance to pull away as I put pressure on my hand, bringing her head closer to my hips. “Relax, pretty girl. Take every inch of me.”

I felt her throat working, unsure of what to do as I pushed farther inside. The tip of my cock hitting the back of her throat causing her to gag slightly, spit pooling out the sides of her mouth and down her chin. She pushed against my hand, but I held firm. “If you’re gonna gag, it’s going to be on my cock.”

I threw my head back as she swallowed involuntarily, a groan releasing deep inside as I moved my hips deep into her throat. Feeling the moisture on the bare skin of my hips that I knew were her tears I decided to pull back, holding back a moan as I looked down at the tears and spittle on her face.

“You’re doing so good taking me so deep in that throat of yours.” My praise was a mix of strangled words. I rocked myself, making Nyla’s fingers dig into the fabric of my jeans, holding on for dear life. “Just a bit more. You know I don’t last long when I fuck this pretty mouth of yours.”

Either she was trying to talk with a mouth full of my cock or choking on it, either way I wasn’t pulling out until every last drop of my come was sliding down her throat, and the excess down her pretty lips. My hand still placed on the told of her head, my other slid around to the base of her neck as I set a ruthless pace; half afraid she was going to suffocate as I continued to push myself in her, the head of my cock hitting the back of her throat.

Her fingers slid inside my jeans, pushing them down my thighs more as her fingernails clawed my skin, the stinging pain she was trying to make me feel paled in comparison to the way my cock felt impaling her throat.

My head blanked out as she swallowed around the tip, the sensation making my balls pull up—the tension releasing down the pretty column of her throat. The palms of her hand smacked my thighs. As much as I wanted to soak in this feeling, I knew she needed to breathe, if only so she could do this to me again.

I pulled my softening cock from her mouth, a sting of come connecting the tip and her pretty lips. She disconnected the spunk with one of her small fingers, it piles on her finger before she licked the pad clean.

The blood I thought she sucked out of my body came rushing to my lower half. I wanted to fuck her on a patio chair, but my mind was drawn to the finger she was still sucking on like a trance. She had me consumed, and she knew she did.

She looked relieved, expecting me to say no, which was still on the tip of my tongue. She turned around, having had her limit of me today. “Make sure you talk to Trevor.”

I sighed as I watched her walk back inside the clubhouse, running a hand through my disheveled hair. The spark in Nyla’s eyes when I potentially granted her permission to be watched by Law was a peek inside her soul that maybe she could forgive me—yet another mistake she would make. I didn’t want her forgiveness; I wanted the mean looks, the hateful actions, her disrespectful words.

It’d make it a lot easier for her once I was gone.

CHAPTER 19

Nyla

M y heart was pounding, feeling like I had to look over my shoulder every second. Trevor told Mitchell he would watch me for the night, making me feel like I was a baby being watched by overgrown babysitters. My dad had called, wanting to meet up. Trevor refused to make Oakley and I feel like we were prisoners, he gave us free rein around the house but not free rein to leave for our safety. After dinner, Trevor and Claudia went into their bedroom—Claudia hasn’t felt well lately, and Trevor was watching over her like a hawk. With a goodnight and a command not to leave the house, they left Oakley and me to do whatever we wanted. I got a text from my dad to meet for dinner tonight, something Oakley encouraged me to go do since it was obvious there was a lot for us to chat about.

I was surprised the Souls let me have my phone with me, but it was being monitored by Knight. I knew I had to act fast to finally be free of this loosening chain I was beginning to question if I wanted out of.

So, I snuck out the guest bedroom window—I knew how to bypass all the alarms and cameras on Trevor’s property since I knew where they were—and walked the distance to the restaurant Dad wanted to meet at.

This was my chance to tell him what happened. He would save me; he always saved me from the messes I made. Despite my promises not to tell anyone because of Trevor, I couldn’t be around Mitchell anymore. My gut burned at the consequences Trevor might face, and by association, Oakley, and I knew I was being selfish.

The lines were blurred with what I felt for Mitchell. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but I kept giving into the temptation. It was driving me wild and, with each night spent together, the lines became clearer.

And I didn’t like what I saw when the fog cleared.

I walked into the restaurant, ignoring the pit in my gut. I was determined to put Mitchell behind me.

So why does it feel like I’m already mourning the loss of him?

I felt conflicted looking around dining area and seeing someone I haven’t seen in a while—and truthfully, still had a hard time getting the courage to see. His face turned, eyes landing on me, and his smile seemed forged. That’s weird. Usually, whenever he saw me, his eyes lit up. It could just be the nerves of seeing me after all that had happened between us.

“Nyla,” Dad said when he saw my approach, awkwardly kissing my cheek while my lips formed a strained smile.

“Hey, Dad.”

He scanned the area behind me. “That boyfriend of yours isn’t coming, is he?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to correct him, but I decided against it. Now wasn’t the time to out Mitchell or the Souls. Later, Nyla. You’ll tell him later. “No. He’s busy tonight.”

He looked relieved as he led me over to our usual table. This restaurant was a staple in our lives; we came here at least once a month since I was a little girl. It brought back the good memories we had here with Grandma, which was much needed after the hell my life had been lately. “Good. We have a lot to discuss tonight.”

Great. The waitress came over and took our drink orders, but when she left, the silence was uncomfortable. My mind was stuck on his words the day of our fight, and now we were going to talk about it—something I haven’t been looking forward to. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About our fight,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that; there’s no excuse for my words. Just know I didn’t mean them.”

I’ve done a lot of reflecting since the night at Hellbound. Thinking of all the oddities that Mitchell did, and there were a lot of signs. His posture, the way it seemed like he couldn’t meet my gaze, but most importantly, the tone of his voice—it was never sincere.

Just like my dad’s apology wasn’t. It sounded like Mitchell’s empty words before he took us to Hellbound. It sounded like he was apologizing just to do that, apologize, and not like he really meant it. A spark lit inside me, and for the first time in my life, I talked back to my dad. Call it nerves or being tired of everyone deciding to play with my emotions, but I was not in the mood for more half-assed apologies from people who claimed to care about me. “Why would you even say that? I’m twenty-two. Me having sex was going to happen, eventually.”

Grandma dealt with the talk with me. Sex was nothing a girl wanted to talk to their father about. I’m sure I’d feel the secondhand embarrassment of this conversation later, but for now, my need for answers triumphed any future awkwardness.

“I know.” I didn’t miss the flash of surprise in his eyes when I talked back to him, but it was short-lived as he ground his teeth at the imagery of Mitchell and me together. “Mitchell and his friends aren’t good men. He’s not good for you, Nyla.”

I wanted to laugh and tell him I learned that the hard way, but I kept it inside, opting to lie through my teeth to prove a point. “Him and his friends have done nothing but treat me with kindness and respect.”

“If you knew what he’s done, what they’ve done…” He paused, sucking in an impatient breath through his clenched teeth, his irritation clearly growing. “I hope you’d think differently.”

I’m sure if I knew all the details they kept hidden, I would. Despite them being horrible men, the cause they were doing it for was worthy. They took down the selfish scum who thought their greed was more important than human lives. I didn’t know a more noble way to atone one’s sin than to eliminate those who were causing them.

Those sadistic men were rubbing off on me, or maybe I was finally cracking under the pressure of the new life I was thrown into without a paddle.

I shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “Maybe, but I don’t know what they’ve done. Can you tell me?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes dancing with annoyance. He wasn’t used to me talking back, just accepting things as is. Was it really so easy to get under his skin? “Why don’t you just listen to me? I haven’t ever led you astray, Nyla.”

“He kept you sheltered for a reason, pretty girl. No kids or parents just hate a kid for no reason. I don’t trust your dad.”

Mitchell told me since day one not to trust him and I didn’t listen, and look at where it got me? Heartbreak city and questioning the life I lived before. I saw everything as black and white through my dad’s eyes, but now the colors were mixing into a dull gray. I wasn’t trusting Mitchell; I was listening to my gut. And my gut told me my defiance wasn’t part of my father’s plans. I refused to tell Mitchell he was right, though.

This conversation was going nowhere fast, and I just wanted to put an end to my time dealing with the Souls. So, I put on my best pitiful performance and hoped he bought it since I was never the best liar. “I know, Dad. Sorry, I’m just still a little hurt by what you said.”

He nodded, buying my charade. “I get that you are. Things at work have been stressful, and I just snapped when I saw you with that thug. It’ll never happen again.”

I plastered on the sincerest smile I could, but still felt like it was crooked. I wanted to get this over with so we could get to what I wanted to talk to him about. “I know, Dad; I forgive you. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Uncle Rand needs surgery.” My eyes widened, not expecting that. “He’s getting his knee replaced. We thought this would be good practice for your nursing career if you took care of him.”

Was it bad that I completely forgot about that? With everything going on, nursing school was the last thing on my mind. Hopefully, I didn’t miss an important email about registration, especially since there’s only three months left until classes start. “How long is his recovery?”

“Four to six weeks of bedrest, but after that, he can attempt to walk. Won’t fully be healed until six to twelve months, according to the doctor.”

It wasn’t like I could say no; Uncle Rand was like a second father to me. He had always taken care of me and had given me things my dad was strictly against, like having sweets before dinner. “I can do that.”

“Good. I’ll let him know, and we’ll get arrangements made.” His posture changed, turning more serious. He looked me in the eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t like this conversation. “I found a buyer for your grandmother’s house.”

I felt my heart stop beating in my chest. “You did?”

“Yes, the buyer wants to tear the house down and turn the land into a campsite because of its secluded location.”

“And you’re just going to let him?” I shouted, drawing attention from the other patrons in the restaurant, but I didn’t care. The fact that he was going to let Grandma’s house—the house I was raised in, the house her husband built from the ground up and lived in until the day he died—be turned into a campsite gutted me. “But I thought Grandma wanted me to have the house? You said you would take care of it for me until I was ready…”

“Nyla, we talked about this, remember? How going back to that house would be too difficult for you. Besides, you don’t want to live in Grandma’s house. Do you really want to deal with her not being there?”

My hands trembled thinking about the empty kitchen that will never be filled with her smile again, and I shook my head. “I know, but—”

“It’s what she wanted.” He was too calm for this. She made me promise in her lucid state to always keep her house standing until the wood gave out. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dad loved that house just as much as I did, if not more. “Her will declared it; that’s why it’s taken me so long to find a buyer. I would’ve done it myself, but I didn’t have the heart to tear down my childhood home.”

He was trying hard to get sympathy points from me, which, in the past, he would’ve—all he had to do was tell me a sad detail about his life or his business, and I melted for it. I put my hand on his, trying to compose as much compassion as I could for his blatant lie.

My relationship with my dad had shifted in the wrong direction. Weeks ago, I thought we would be okay with a simple chat, but I wasn’t the same person I was a few weeks ago. Lies, betrayal, and hurtful words changed me more than I thought possible. Funny thing about words, they hurt for more than the second it took to say them.

“I get it, Dad.” I tried to empathize, but I couldn’t get my mind off the amount of memories he was willing to bulldoze to the ground, leaving nothing but dust and debris, like that house didn’t mean anything when it meant everything to me. This was a major blow—worse than the words he spewed out of anger. But I couldn’t let him see me fazed by this. I put my hand on his, trying to muster up the diluted love I had for him. “I’m glad we have this time together. I’ve missed you.”

His face relaxed, his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “I don’t like it when we fight.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you still seeing him?”

What a loaded question. Here I was, planning on outing Mitchell and the Souls to help me get out of my situation, just for me to get trapped into another one. I took a deep breath, giving the half-truth. “I am.”

He didn’t bother to hide his disappointment. “What a shame.”

“He takes care of me.” Lie. “He makes me happy.” Lie. “Isn’t that the only thing that matters?”

His nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. “You haven’t slept with him, have you?”

“What if I have?” I tried to keep calm. His apology for his hurtful words obviously wasn’t sincere since he was bringing it back up again.

He took a calming breath, the veins in his neck protruding slightly as the waitress came back to take our orders. “Come back in a minute,” he snapped at her, making her jump and hurry in the other direction.

“What’s going on with you, Dad?” I whispered, trying to understand where I went wrong. “All my life, I’ve listened to you, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions.”

“I wish you just listened to me a little longer,” he muttered under his breath, thinking I couldn’t hear him, but I could. Unease settled in my gut as the man who made me feel safe my whole life was now making me feel anything but safe.

I stood out of my chair, almost knocking it over, having enough of his muttered remarks. “I’m starting nursing school this year, and I live on my own. I won’t apologize for finally making my own choices.”

“He’s changed you.” Yeah, Mitchell did. He opened my eyes to how stagnant my life had been before him was. “What happened to my little obedient girl?”

“I finally gained my wings. I’ll always be thankful for you taking care of me, and you’re an amazing father, but I need to learn life on my terms, not yours.”

“You’re right,” he relented, but his sincerity still wasn’t there. “My behavior toward you lately hasn’t been right. I’m sorry, Nyla. I support you and your choices and… him. If he’s what truly makes you happy.”

I would’ve felt relief at his approval if he actually meant it.

His phone began to ring as he pulled it out of his pocket. “I have to take this. Excuse me a moment.”

I watched as he walked out, exhaling a heavy breath. I’ve been avoiding Grandma’s house for so long, but it looked like I had to visit it one last time before it turned into something I couldn’t recognize. I wish I could do something about its demolition, but if her will declared it, then there was nothing I could do about it. I rubbed my necklace as I took in what would happen to Grandma’s house, and what I knew I had to do.

Outing Mitchell and the Souls could wait for another day.

I had to face my fears and say goodbye.

I looked up at the house I had spent most of my childhood in.

My grandma’s house.

I know it might be stupid, I know it’s been years since she’s passed, but I hadn’t had the strength to return here. If I came to her house and she wasn’t here, I would have to accept that she was really gone.

Yes, I visit her grave regularly. I know she’s alone, six feet in the ground. My mind knew that, but I rationalized that she was just at her home, tending to the vegetable garden we planted every year, but I was too busy with school to come over. Knowing she was gone and accepting she was gone were two different things.

But now here I was, at her house for the first time since she’s passed, accepting my reality.

The back of my eyes burned, and I regretted not asking Mitchell to be here with me. Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I already knew who it was and the smile that tipped my lips couldn’t stop as I pulled my phone out to read the text message.

Mitchell: Where are you?

Knight must’ve ratted me out. I sucked in a shaky breath. It was only a matter of time before he found out I had slipped from Trevor’s home. After our heavy conversation after a lust-filled night, I was feeling emotional and let the words slip out about my grandma’s house. My hand came to the simple banded necklace that rested against my heart.

This was something I needed to face on my own.

I needed to say goodbye.

I ignored his text, slipping my phone back into my pocket before I put my hand on the handrail of the small stairs leading up to the front door. Opening the screen door, I entered her house. I made my way through the living room. It still looked the same as the last time I stepped foot in it.

The floral couch that was out of place from the rest of her furniture collecting dust. I remember her arguing with my dad about it—he always hated that thing, but she loved it, regardless of how broken and uncomfortable it was. The TV still hung on the wall, the hutch where she kept her recipe books and magazines were worn, but otherwise in great shape for being over a decade old.

But one question remained. Why didn’t dad put it in storage like he promised?

There would be time for dwelling later, I didn’t have much time before the Souls—well, Mitchell—tracked me down.

I looked around the walls, noting more dust on the picture frames hanging in their place. A smile formed on my lips, the memories rushing back and making my eyes water. My mouth wobbled as I spotted the faded pen on the wall. Grandma loved watching me grow, and every birthday, she would measure my height to see how much I’d grown that year.

When I walked into her kitchen, I noted how the extremely dull yellow paint just didn’t shine now that she wasn’t here, baking her weekly rhubarb pies after church. Turning toward the kitchen table, I was surprised when I saw unframed pictures scattered amongst it. I thought it was odd since, to my understanding, no one had set foot in this house since Grandma passed away. That didn’t stop me from walking over to the pictures to see what they were, though. Deciding I didn’t want dust all over my pants, I opted to stand, picking up a picture and letting the first tear fall when I realized who it was.

A five-year-old me was settled in my grandma’s arms. She was smiling at me while I was laughing at something I found hilarious behind the lens. The cap I was wearing was crooked on my head, but I remember being happy. Not for the fact that I just graduated kindergarten, but the fact that my two most important people were there with me.

I dropped the picture, going through precious memories I didn’t remember until the photographs reminded me. One of my grandma and me on rides at the fair. Another of me helping her bake a cake for my dad’s birthday. Some were just of me and my dad, and some were of the three of us. One particular picture grabbed my attention.

The picture didn’t have my grandma in it; it was a picture of Dad and me on my graduation day. This made me furrow my brows. Grandma died before I graduated high school, so I didn’t understand why this picture was here. I stuck the picture into my sweatshirt pocket before I picked up another one.

It was a picture of Grandma’s basement.

“What the hell?” I muttered to myself as I dropped the picture, only to pick up another one. It was another picture of the basement, but at a different angle. Is that a… door? I’ve never noticed that in her basement before.

Placing the picture down on the table, I looked at the basement door. Like most kids, I feared the basement. My dad always told me stories about how there was a spider infestation down there, so he bought a giant snake to eat them all. Me being a six-year-old, and terrified of anything with more than two legs, I steered clear of the basement. My grandma, who also kept up with my dad’s lie, told me the snake was scared of her, so I would only go down there with her. Of course, the older I got, the more I didn’t believe the piss-poor childhood lie, but still, I thought about it in the back of my mind, and it gave me chills.

I shook my head, rationalizing that it was probably a new addition my dad put in for a game room or something. He was always down there doing something. But still, curiosity got the better of me. I went over to the door and tried to turn the handle.

It was locked.

That was odd, especially since I remember there being a deadbolt on the other side. That would mean someone would’ve had to lock this side with a key. Biting my lip, I tried to think of what to do, but honestly, I couldn’t think of anything other than breaking the door down.

Then I remembered my dad always kept tools in the shed out back. I headed toward the back door, but something in the corner of the back deck caught my eye.

A sledgehammer.

I didn’t hesitate to pick it up, facing the door that could reveal so many secrets. With each slam of the hammer against the door, the wood splintered. After about ten hits, there was a hole I could fit through. I ducked through the door, careful not to get caught on any of the sharp edges of wood my actions left behind. I threw the sledgehammer down the stairs in case I needed it.

My foot slipped on the step, almost sending me tumbling down the steps. Using my flashlight on my phone to guide my way down the stairs, I moved carefully since I didn’t know how much weight the wooden planks could handle. With each calculated, squeaking step, I made my way to the basement, pulling the string to the light bulb, hoping it would work. Although it was dim, it still lit up the expanse of the basement.

The place looked as bad as it smelled. The water stains and mold were prominent as I covered my nose. No doubt I would be getting sick after this. The light didn’t reach the corners very well, so I still had my flashlight turned on, shining it everywhere as I felt the anxiety crawling on my skin in the form of imaginary bugs.

I stopped searching when the light flashed on a few boxes in the corner. I walked closer to them, surprised when there was no mold or water damage on the boxes. In fact, they looked like new boxes since the material was crisp instead of flimsy, like most old used boxes were.

Knowing it was a bad idea, but my curiosity was over-ridding any logical part of my brain, I opened one of the boxes. My eyes widened at the contents inside.

Red stilettos. Red dress. Was that a matching bra and underwear set?

None of this was mine, and it certainly wasn’t Grandma’s. Whose stuff was this? It obviously belonged to a woman, as the faint scent of perfume still lingered on the items. Did Dad have a woman in his life he never told me about? Ever since I could remember, Dad never had a woman in his life, saying I was all he needed. Even growing up, I couldn’t remember Dad ever going out on a date, but now, I had to wonder if he had someone in his life he was hiding from me. But why?

My nerves went into overdrive as I placed the box on the ground. The box underneath was way more worn than the one on top was, and the contents weren’t nearly as creepy—just full of stuff from my childhood. I didn’t dare touch any of it because of the mildew, but something caught my eye. A small plastic bag with a silver chain and paper in there. Grabbing the small corner edge, I pulled it. Trying my best to avoid touching the actual bag part, I pulled apart the seams, reaching in and grabbing its contents.

A damp, stuffed bunny. The thread holding it together falling apart at the seams, the right button eye missing. It looked sweet, innocent.

But seeing it made my stomach bottom out.

I remember giving this to one of the little girls who came to stay with us for a while… Her mom was distraught that she couldn’t afford a toy for her daughter for her birthday, and Grandma had just gotten me a stuffed pink bunny. I had so many toys I was blessed with, so I gave it to the mom to give to her daughter. She cried when I did. Grandma thought it was sweet, suggesting putting the little girl’s name on it. I remember watching Grandma write Elizabeth on the back of the bunny’s ear.

Dread filled me as I turned the bunny over with a shaky grip.

Elizabeth written on the back of the ear in faded marker.

I dropped the toy like it burned me. I picked up the box, uncaring of the water stains, dumping the contents all over the cement floor. My breath seized in my lungs as I saw all the toys from my childhood. Hundreds of toys, books, and clothes I had either outgrown or wanted to give to the families Grandma was helping. I found old board books, chapter books, and coloring book—as well as half-filled boxes of crayons and markers. Old character figures and playsets sat in bags, clearly never given to the children they were intended for…

I gave all these toys to the children who stayed with us over the years. Every. Single. One.

But if I gave them to those kids, then why are they here? Why didn’t they take them with them when they left Grandma’s house?

Heart racing, and needing answers, I looked at the third worn box. I reached in, feeling sick to my stomach at what I saw.

Pictures. So many pictures.

I pulled out a random picture, gulping when I saw the smiling face of a beautiful woman. Her brown eyes matched her curly, shoulder-length brown hair, and the freckles that adorned her cheeks told me she was a sweet girl. But who was she? And why is her picture in this box, with hundreds of others? I didn’t recognize her from my childhood, so I was certain she wasn’t related to us in some way.

I grabbed another picture. This woman had long, straight auburn hair. Her azure eyes didn’t quite meet her seemingly forced smile. The background looked like a club of some kind, the background blurred by what I assumed what smoke. Eyes scanning the picture, I felt bile rise to my throat when I looked at her outfit.

It was the red dress I found in the box, with matching red heels.

Bile rose in my throat as I picked up the next picture, feeling the warmth leave my skin as my scream echoed around the basement walls.

It was a picture of a single mom and her son. I remembered them so clearly, especially the boy, whose face had turned red when he looked at me when they came over for dinner when I was ten.

Why was there a picture of them in here?

I dug further, hysteria and disbelief building in me as I recognized more faces in the pictures.

Hundreds of pictures, all of the people who had stayed with us over the years—the ones Grandma said she found housing and jobs for.

Every. Single. One.

Why did we have so many pictures of them? And why keep them after all these years?

My heart was on the floor, the immense amount of misplaced guilt making it hard to breathe—to think.

I couldn’t believe this, didn’t want to accept this. Why were all these pictures here? What happened to them? Did Grandma truly get them help?

Or did something else happen to them?

Thump.

I screamed, panic crawling on my skin as I slowly turned to face the direction the sound came from. My breathing was erratic as I shifted my flashlight into the empty space. If the things I found before hadn’t overwhelmed my senses, what I saw behind me would.

It was the door from the pictures.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It might’ve been my imagination, but I swore I heard banging behind the door.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Startled, I took a step back. Was I hearing things, or did someone just knock on the door? I watched the door for a few more seconds, willing the sound again, but nothing happened. I chalked it up as nerves from being in the basement, as well as finding these strange things down here.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

My head snapped back to the door, the breath leaving my body as I watched the door shake.

Someone’s on the other side.

Gulping even though my mouth was bone dry, I found my words. “H-hello?”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Mindlessly, I stuffed the pictures into my pocket. The more the door shook, the more I felt my body tremble at the fear seeping into my bones. “If someone’s in there, you can come out now.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Trembling, I made my way to the door that looked out of place along the basement walls—like a solid metal freezer door. The closer I got, the louder the thumps were and the clearer the vibrations were. I saw a padlock along the handle, effectively locking whoever was inside.

I raced over to the sledgehammer. I knew this wasn’t going to be as easy to break down like a wooden door, but I had to try.

I had to know what was hiding behind this door.

I lifted the sledgehammer, beating it against the padlock, and missing it a few times, causing me to dent the door. I was out of breath from both the excursion and the fear of the unknown. But I couldn’t give up. I lifted it above my head again, hoping for one good smash against the padlock—

“Who the hell is down here?”

I froze, stopping mid-swing. Trembling, I almost dropped the heavy object. I looked over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see whoever was there, except for their shadow, which looked intimidating. I heard the creak of the wooden step under the intruder’s weight as I quickly looked for a place to hide.

Who would be coming to Grandma’s house, because the person definitely didn’t sound like Dad or Uncle Rand. Who else had access to this house? Could it be the buyer?

I put the hammer on the ground as quietly as I could, spotting the crawlspace along the adjacent wall. I wasted no time in running over there, using the strength I had to pull myself up.

I got my foot inside the small hole before I heard his heavy footsteps smack down on the cement floor. I froze, too scared to turn around and see who was down here with me.

“Anyone down here?” I heard his voice echo off the walls as his footfalls came to a sudden halt. “Fuck!”

Fear consumed every nerve in my body as I tried to ignore the cobwebs and dirt under my hands. Somehow, I found the strength to turn around as slowly as I could, and once I was in a position where I could see the man, I noticed he was in front of the boxes I was just digging through. I didn’t realize I had knocked the boxes over, making all the images of those poor women scatter around the floor. The burly man turned around, giving me a good look at him, and my breath caught in my throat.

I didn’t know who he was.

I watched as he fished around in his pocket before pulling out his phone. “Boss, we have a problem. Someone was down in Leela’s basement. All the pictures are scattered on the ground, and that redhead’s lingerie is out.”

My stomach churned at what he just said. Was he the one who took that poor girl?

His head scanned the room. “No, I don’t see anyone—” His eyes landed on the floor before the metal door. “The fuck?”

He walked closer to the door, crouching to pick something up. I couldn’t see what it was until he held it up in the air, making my body go rigid when I saw what he picked up.

In the dimness of the basement, the burly man held the sledgehammer I used to break the door.

“Found a sledgehammer; door’s dented to shit, too. Someone was trying to break her out.” His tone was confused, listening intently to whoever was on the other line. I tried to focus, but my heart was close to beating out of my chest. “We gotta get her moved as a precaution. I’m goin’ to head over so we can start makin’ plans.” He searched the room again. “Yeah, I’ll do a good search before I leave.”

He ended the call and pocketed his phone before dropping the sledgehammer to the ground. “If anyone’s down here, you got one chance to show yourself. If you don’t show yourself now and I find you, I’ll shoot you on the spot.” His words were emphasized with him cocking his gun back.

Cold sweat pooled on my forehead as he began his search. There wasn’t much to search in the basement since it was an open space, except for the crawlspace and underneath the stairs. I was thankful when he checked there first, which gave me a chance to crawl into a corner of the crawlspace in case he shone a flashlight in here. He would no doubt see me if he did.

I tucked myself into the corner, covering my hands over my mouth to quiet my frightened breaths. I had to fight the urge to scream when the flashlight lit up the crawlspace. I fought the urge to look around the dark area, not wanting to know what I was in here with. A relieved breath left my lips when the light shifted away, realizing the man was too big to fit in this space. The creaking of the footboards sounded, and the click of the light switch made everything go pitch-black as the basement door opened and then shut.

I waited a few moments until I heard a click, my breath still barely coming out. The minutes I was in the crawlspace felt like hours. Once I thought I was safe, I began to crawl toward the tiny hole in the wall, swallowing the lump in my throat as the drop to the ground looked high. It was going to be a lot harder getting out than it was coming in. The space wasn’t that high off the ground, so I just decided to go headfirst. I shimmied the top half of my body out of the crawlspace, putting my hands on the floor and freezing when something fell out of my pocket and making a loud crash on the cement floor.

Shit. Shit!

Without thought, I pushed the rest of my body out, falling on my stomach with a painful thud. I ignored the throbbing and grabbed my now-shattered cell phone from the ground. “Please work. Please still work,” I whispered as I touched and pushed everything I could on the screen and the sides.

Nothing.

Great.

My eyes stung, and I struggled to think of what to do. I looked at the metal door in the basement. The fact that there was an actual person behind the door made my stomach churn. I desperately looked around for something to cut the lock with since the man took the sledgehammer when he left. Tears of desperation fell as I couldn’t find anything. There wasn’t anything sitting here, and crying wasn’t going to help me. I had to do something.

I ran to the door, banging on it a few times. I pulled on the padlock, hoping it would give, but it didn’t. Remorse flooded me when I realized I had nothing to break whoever was out on the other side with. I knew what I had to do, but first I had to make myself known, just in case anyone else was on the other side.

“My name is Nyla Brooks. I’m going to get help. I’ll save you, I promise.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I hope that meant they heard me.

CHAPTER 20

Mitchell

W here the fuck is she? That was the only thought circulating through my head as I rode on the abandoned road. I got tired of waiting by my phone with my thumb up my ass waiting for Nyla to call or text me back, knowing there was a good chance she wouldn’t because she could barely stand to be in the same room as me.

I hadn’t seen Nyla since I dropped her off at Law’s house to be watched yesterday. As much as I didn’t want Nyla to leave my protection, we both agreed it might do the girls some good to spend quality time with one another.

Now I regret it. Panic like I never felt before seized me when Law called and told me Nyla slipped out the guest room window. I rushed over there, demanding answers from Oakley, who told us that Nyla went to meet her dad at a restaurant to talk. Law and I almost exchanging blows at his carelessness. Doesn’t he know we have to worry about the Bloods and the Flock coming after us? They had to know Nyla was associated with us.

With me.

My hands twisted around the bars of my bike, teeth clenched with uncertainty. I knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to rat us out to her batshit crazy father. If she did, it’d be a clusterfuck for me and my brothers. We didn’t know who Vincent was associated with, so we couldn’t prepare for the onslaught that would surely come with him trying to get Nyla out of the shitty situation I put her in.

I bit the inside of my cheek until a familiar metallic spread through my tongue, grounding me. Reminding me who I was. What my mission was.

What the outcome will be, with or without Nyla.

It was exhausting fighting Nyla and the demons in my head. I never won—only getting a brief reprieve when they thought I suffered enough for the time being.

But my suffering grew worse the longer I didn’t know where she was. The brothers were out searching every inch of Diamond Ridge, and I took the backroads, burning rubber in my desperate attempt to find her.

I swear to fuckin’ Christ if the Bloods, or God forbid, the Flock, found her, there’d be hell to pay for touchin’ my girl.

I’ve already killed for her, and I wasn’t afraid to do it again.

I rounded the corner of a road, the expanse of green trees and vivid green leaves passing by in a blur. When I hit the straightaway, I was surprised I didn’t crash when I saw a slow-moving body in my line of sight.

The figure was too far away, a silhouette still in my eyes, but as I got closer, I saw them limp and stumble like they were having a difficult time staying upright. I pressed on the gas, making my rod go faster. Relief flooded me as my eyes widened when I recognized who it was.

Nyla.

“Nyla!” She froze, confirming it was her. She attempted to go to the right like she was trying to hide in the wooded area, but I was off my bike and after her before she could even hit the tree line. My arms went around her as a scream escaped and she thrashed around, begging me to let her go. “Nyla.”

She was still fighting against me when I took a chance to pull her closer, restricting her movement all together. I could still feel her try to fight me, her actions calming as I soothed her.

“You’re safe, pretty girl,” I hushed her, hoping to comfort as one of my hands went to her hair, running my fingers through the soft strands in a way I knew she liked. “I got you. You’re safe.”

She tensed before melting into my, arms wrapping around my waist as she buried her head in the fabric of my shirt, slightly shaking as I continued the soothing motions of running my fingers through her brunette strands.

Someone is gonna die.

I pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at her. Scrapes covered her face, the dried blood and bruises amplified by her pale complexion. Her silver eyes glistened with unshed tears and devoid of emotion. Light seeped back into them as she finally recognized who I was. “Mitchell?”

“It’s me.” I crushed her against me again, needing the comfort that she was safe. She wasn’t with the Flock; she was here, safe.

In my arms, where she belonged.

“Where have you been?” I tried to keep my tone light, comforting but coming out ragged with the fear and anxiety I felt not knowing where she had been for the past few hours.

“Grandma’s basement.”

I furrowed my brows, leaning back to look at her face, trying to keep my shit together as I looked at the small cuts and bruises. “What about her basement?”

“I found pictures.” Her words were barely audible. “So many pictures… their toys…” A choked sob escaped. “Those kids toys…”

I froze at her admission, gently pushing her back to see the tears still rushing from her eyes. “What pictures, Nyla?”

Her body was heaving, trying to prevent herself from getting sick as she dug into her pocket and pulled out two pictures. I took them from her shaking hand, the breath leaving my body as I studied the first one.

“Marilyn?” My voice was breathless as I looked at the smile on her face. I remembered this picture; hell, I was there the day it was taken. I flipped it over, noting the information on the back.

A drawing of a raven.

The symbol of the Flock.

I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at the other picture she handed over. I didn’t recognize the slightly sullen girl with auburn hair and blue eyes. I flipped it over, my heart stopping in my chest.

“The raven is the symbol of the Flock.” I told her, watching as she flinched. “Did every picture have this symbol on them?”

She dipped her chin, confirming my fears. “There’s more, so much more…” Nyla’s confession was a whisper, shock making it impossible for her to raise her voice. “Mitchell, there’s pictures of all the women and children Grandma had helped.” She looked up, the unshed tears in her eyes spilling over. “Why are there pictures of them in her basement? She was supposed to help them get housing and a job to provide for themselves.”

I looked up, feeling unnerved and disgusted for even holding these pictures. “Nyla, where did you get these?”

“Grandma’s basement. In a box in the corner of her basement, next to the door.” Her voice cracked. She hugged herself, her sobs overtaking her body as I rushed to her, praying she didn’t go into shock. “What’s happening, Mitchell?”

I didn’t have words for her, didn’t have any comforting things to say because really, what could I say? Instead, I just held her close, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain she was feeling.

I took one of my hands off her, grabbing my phone from the ground before dialing Prez. I didn’t wait for him to speak when the line connected. “Everyone. Clubhouse. Now,” I gritted out, tugging Nyla impossibly closer to me. “I found Nyla.”

He was silent for a moment, and thankfully, didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll have everyone there in thirty.”

I didn’t bother replying, dropping my phone to the ground again, uncaring if it shattered more. Nyla was more important. I ran my fingers over her brown locks, selfishly using her strength to combat my unease.

“It’s going to be okay.” I didn’t know who I was talking to more, her or myself. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“What’s so damn urgent?” Tyrant opened his smart mouth like always. “I was busy.”

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” I watched as his posture immediately straightened. We had an unspoken code, Tyrant and me. We both liked running our mouths, and usually, I would give his snark right back, but with me not reciprocating, he knew the shit we were here for was serious.

I looked over at Husk, who was fidgeting in his seat. He was always restless nowadays, always searching for Marilyn. I was worried about how he would react to the news I just found out from Nyla.

I looked over at Darrell, who was eyeing me curiously. Even he didn’t know why I called this urgent meeting, but he trusted me enough to get our brothers here quickly.

“Nyla slipped out Law’s window to meet up with her dad, and he told her some interestin’ shit. Made her face her fears and go to her grandma’s house.” My brothers didn’t know what I was talking about if their confused faces were anything to go by. I didn’t have time to give them a backstory, but I guess I had no choice. “Nyla’s grandma passed away a few years ago, and she hasn’t been back at her house since, even though she left it to Nyla. Her dad convinced her it would be too much for her to live there with the memories, told her it would be better if she never stepped foot in there again, and being the good girl she is, she hasn’t.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he allow her to go back?” Knight questioned from beside Tyrant. “Makes no damn sense.”

“That’s what I thought when she told me. Nyla never questioned her dad; she thinks he does no wrong, even though he’s a huge prick. Thought it was to protect her from losing her shit when she returned to the house.” I rubbed my beard, the nerves of what was about to go down getting to me. “She got a huge wake-up call when she went there, and Daddio didn’t do any of the shit he told her he did.”

“What do you mean?” Law asked. He cared about Nyla, was there when her grandma died, and knew how hard she took her death. “When Leela passed, we all offered to go help Nyla clean up the place, but she said she didn’t want to go, knowing her grandma wouldn’t be there.”

“I don’t know all the details, but Vincent convinced her that it was best if they sold the place. Told her he would handle the upkeep of the house until he found a buyer. He would keep her garden alive, pack her valuables away for safekeeping in the meantime.” I paused for a second, not able to get Nyla’s anguished look out of my head when her dad told her at dinner that he found a buyer. “Her dad got an offer on the house, and the buyer was going to tear it down, so Nyla went there to see it one last time…” I slammed my eyes shut, trying to ward away some of the sick things she told me. I never wanted her to see the horrors life could hold. For once in my life, I was speechless at the shit Nyla told me. “I never… I knew Vincent was bad news when he told us he knew of the Souls, but I never…”

The fact that I was having trouble getting the words out got everyone’s attention. I was a strong man, seen shit and done shit that most people would never think of, but this was affecting me because now Nyla knew.

She knew her dad and grandma could be involved in those women’s and children’s disappearances.

Darrell’s voice broke the very thick tension I created. “What happened?”

“Nyla went inside. Was shocked when she found all her grandma’s shit still inside. She found some pictures spread on the kitchen table. Some were of her and her family, but others were of the basement—and not normal pictures of the basement… There was a door she’s never seen before.”

All the brothers stood a bit straighter hearing this. “You’re tellin’ me there’s a door in the basement she never seen before? Did her dad do some renovating she wasn’t aware of?”

“Apparently,” I responded to Tyrant’s question. “She said her dad never allowed her down there, even though she went down with her grandma from time to time, but she never saw that door before.”

“Did she go check it out?”

“Yeah. The basement door was locked from the other side.” The temperature in the room dropped the more I told this fucked-up tale to my brothers. What door was locked from the inside, but where someone couldn’t unlock it to free themselves? “She got a bad feelin’ and used a sledgehammer she found to break the door down. She found some misplaced boxes down there.” I looked at Husk, who stopped breathing when I looked at him. I knew he suspected something. Taking a calming breath, I pulled Marilyn’s picture from my pocket. It felt like I was tossing a stick of dynamite at Husk. This was the first potential lead we had on his ol’ lady since she disappeared three years ago. “She found some pictures…”

He immediately snatched it, and the look on his face was nothing but pure devastation. When Marilyn was around, Husk was a happy-go-lucky bastard. He loved pranks, loved to have fun. More importantly, he loved Marilyn. When he lost her it took a tribe to keep him from imploding. Like me, his reason for living was null. The only reason he hadn’t offed himself was the faint chance she was out there, alive and waiting for him to save her.

“Mari?” His words were breathless, his expression completely gutted. He looked at me, the pain in his eyes was enough to cut the strongest man in his desolated soul. “Did she—”

“Nyla thinks someone is behind the door. She never got the chance to check since someone came to the house.”

“She told me there’s a box full of pictures of women and children her grandma housed and helped. So that’s suspicious as fuck. We gotta check to see if they’re the missin’ people from the shelter,” I explained, pulling out the other picture Nyla had grabbed from the basement. “She also grabbed this picture. This lady’s clothes were in a separate box she found.” I slid the picture to Darrell, who looked it over. I didn’t like the look on his face. “You know her, Prez?”

“Fucking hell,” he cursed, earning all our attention, besides Husk’s, who was clinging to Marilyn’s picture like a lifeline. “Motherfucking hell.”

“What’s up, Prez?”

“I need to make a call.” He shot me a look. “Get in that fucking basement. Get in the fucking door.” He looked at our brother, whose eyes hadn’t left Marilyn’s picture since I gave it to him. “This is a good sign, Husk.”

“For who?” he barked, slamming his hands on the table as he stood. “I don’t even want to think about what she’s going through right now. The things she must have gone through.” He shook his head, his teeth grinding together. “I think I would rather her be dead than being rap—” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, not that any of us wanted to hear it. “At least in death, she would be at peace, knowing she was still loved unconditionally by me.” He looked up at the ceiling. “And we’d be together in the afterlife.”

We all knew what that meant, and we stayed silent in support until Darrell spoke up, trying to diffuse Husk’s anger. “I didn’t mean a good sign for her, brother. I meant it was a good sign in us figuring out what happened to her.”

He nodded but didn’t reply. My attention was still focused on Darrell. “Who is she?”

His eyes were hard as he ignored my question. “Our main priority is finding out if someone is locked in this fucker’s basement. Don’t care who goes, just go now.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep calm because I knew he was right, but I didn’t like being talked to that way. Curiosity was eating at me about who the mystery woman in the picture was, but he would tell when it was relevant. “Law, Sarge, V, you’re with me,” I dictated as Darrell bolted out of the room, his phone to his ear. “Tyrant, Knight, Husk—”

“If you think I’m not going with you to that goddamn basement, you’re outta your fuckin’ mind, Grim.” His eyes were fierce as he tried to hold his shit together. His voice lowered into slight desperation. “I gotta know if it’s her.”

I dipped my chin at him; I couldn’t deny him this. He’s been looking for Marilyn for years—it’s been his sole mission, and we might just have our first lead since she was taken.

“Okay, you’re with us. You two,” I looked at Knight and Tyrant, “do some digging into Vincent Brooks and print up the missin’ reports from the domestic and homeless shelters. I didn’t trust the fucker when I first met him, and I sure as shit don’t trust him now. Shit’s too coincidental to not be connected.”

“Sure thing.” Tyrant immediately got out of his seat and walked out of the room with Knight close behind him. Everyone was feeling the tension of this new lead.

That just left Hex, who was staring at us with little interest. “Hex? Whatcha gonna do, brother?”

“I’ll be on standby in case you find someone.”

That was a good idea; God only knew what we were walking into in the basement. Law looked over at me. “Where’s Nyla?”

“With Victoria. Joslyn and Oakley are comin’ here, too. She’s… pretty fucked up.”

“I wanna see her before we leave.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t think I’m gonna forget you lettin’ her slip out the window, Law.”

“Don’t want you to.” I could tell he was beating himself up over it, but it still wasn’t good enough. “Just wanna see for myself she’s alright. She’s like a daughter to me.”

I clenched my jaw before nodding. I knew Nyla felt guilty for getting Law in some deep shit, so on our way out the front of the clubhouse doors, we went over to the couch where Victoria was sitting with Nyla. My girl was looking at the ground, still reeling from what she found in the basement. “Nyla.”

Her head shot up, looking at me with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes slanted over to Law, gulping when she saw him. “Trevor.”

“We’ll talk later.” He told her, his voice soft. “Just wanted to come see you before we went to check things out. I’m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart.”

She nodded, new tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

A rueful smile formed on his face. “I know you are.”

I cut off their moment with swift words to Victoria. “Take care of my girl.”

“You know I will.” She cared about all the new additions to our club—she was a protector through and through. “Oakley, Joslyn, and Libby are in the kitchen making some refreshments. We’re just gonna have a girls’ day until things die down.”

I couldn’t help but agree with that plan. I couldn’t get her desperate eyes, begging me to do something about an unknown situation, out of my head. I would’ve fought the Devil himself if that’s what would bring a smile to her face. I struggled with leaving her behind, wanting to be the one to comfort her, but I chose to fight for her instead. I brought my hand up, feeling the dryness on her cheek against my palm. “I’ll be back. I promise everything will be okay.”

I could see the struggle in her eyes as she fought to believe me. My chest cracked, knowing I deserved her distrust. I’ve done nothing to make her believe I would do the right thing for her. Everything I’ve done to her was with the purpose of getting her to hate me, and now I wanted her to trust me to take care of this for her?

God, what a fuck up I am.

“Let’s get a fuckin’ move on!” Husk shouted, one foot already out the front door. With one last brush of my thumb against her cheek, I pulled my hand away from Nyla, already feeling the loss of her warmth. When I turned and headed to the door with Law in tow, I didn’t miss the feeling of her eyes on me, only stopping when we shut the door behind us as we made our way to our bikes.

I threw my leg over my seat before asking Law, “You know anything about Nyla’s dad?”

His lips pursed. “Shady fucker. Could never find proof of any misdeeds—if he does anything, he hides his tracks pretty well. Didn’t like me, thinkin’ cause I was a lawyer. When Nyla and Oakley first became friends, Claudia invited him to dinner many times. Nyla’s grandma, Leela, always showed, but he never did.”

“What about her grandma?”

“Sweetest woman,” he praised. “She adored Nyla, and Nyla was practically attached to her hip. Lived with her throughout her childhood until her dad’s business took off and even then, Nyla spent the majority of her time with Leela.”

“What kinda business her dad do?”

“Dunno. Hell, even Nyla doesn’t know. Vincent’s always told her she didn’t need to worry about nothin’.”

“Real stand-up guy.” The sarcasm leaked through my teeth as I perched myself on my rod. “Shady motherfucker.”

“Like you, I’ve never liked the man. He’s shown the bare minimum to Nyla, but for whatever reason, she thinks he hung the stars for her.” Law threw his leg over his bike. “Let’s go find what kinda business he’s really up to.”

We pulled our rods up to the house. The exterior was akin to an abandoned house with the fading color and broken shudders. The roof was in need of a major re-haul, and the grass was damn near up to my shins. First glance told me they wanted this house to look deserted for a reason. No one would suspect a thing that way.

“This house used to be so nice,” Law thought aloud, coming to my side. “Leela always kept it up real nice. Kinda breaks my heart that it’s gone to shit.”

“We don’t have time to take a trip down memory fuckin’ lane.” Husk stomped right past us, not giving a single fuck about anything but what was inside that basement. “Let’s go see what he’s got hidden.”

No complaints from us; I wanted to get in there and figure out what the hell Vincent was up to. Then, I needed to get back and hold my girl until her demons became my own. What we found in this basement would surely flip the life she’s lived up until she’s met me upside down.

Walking into the living room, it looked like it was ransacked. Broken picture frames, the coffee table flipped over, and there were some scratches on the—

Wait… Is that blood?

V noticed, and being the creepy motherfucker he was, he squatted down, running his fingers over it. “Blood. It’s fresh.”

“You’re sick,” Law chastised. Ever since the day in the interrogation room with the girls where V wouldn’t keep his eyes off Oakley, Law has been on V’s ass for the littlest reason. I never took Law for being a petty bitch, but here we are.

“Someone obviously was dragged outta here,” I stated, taking in the distruction and obvious signs of struggle. The real question was, was it before or after Nyla was here? “Husk?” I looked around the room, noticing the Viking-like man wasn’t here. “Husk!”

V stood, casually dragging his bat along the ground as he walked out of the room. Fucker didn’t know a thing about being stealthy. “Basement.”

I inwardly groaned, hoping we would make it out of this house. “Sarge, you take the rear.” I pulled my pistol out of the waistband of my jeans. “Keep vigilant, brothers.” And pray Husk just didn’t fuck everything up.

V was already halfway down the stairs when we approached the basement door. I let out a low whistle at the damage my pretty girl did to it. Looking down on the ground, I could tell the splintered wood was what had caused the bleeding of whoever they dragged out of here based on the blood smears leading from the door, as well as the red-tipped pieces of wood sticking out from the door. Walking through the opening, my stomach was in my throat as I thought about Nyla being down here, frozen in fear, hidden in that crawlspace, not knowing if she was going to live or die in the next few moments.

The thought of anything happening to Nyla made me feel physically ill.

Husk was inside the room, flipping up the filthy clothing and blankets, his eyes desperate as they searched for Marilyn. Even though the padlock was ripped from the wall, and the metal door stood open, Husk continued to search for her.

“Husk,” Sarge gruffed out, not afraid to tell someone what they didn’t want to hear. His tone was less rough than usual, but still had bite to it. “She’s not here.”

His body stilled and you could just hear something inside him snap.

A piercing, almost inhuman, roar came from his throat. The rest of us just watched the carnage unfold as Husk grabbed anything he could, throwing it against the wall and tearing it apart. We all let him process his grief in his own way, being around him for support. I watched as he picked up a bucket and chucked it across the room, spreading its contents all over the cement floor.

Needles.

So many used needles.

My fingers twitched, sweat starting to swell on my forehead as Law and Sarge passed me to go inside the room when it was obvious Husk was going to do more damage. But I couldn’t move my feet, my attention fully on the discarded needles on the concrete and the smattering of tiny, white-coated baggies and crumpled foil.

You can’t resist the needle. It’ll always come back to you…

I gulped, trembling slightly. Memories of the past where I thought my life was only good with the poison in my veins.

Poison that took them away.

“Grim?” Law’s voice sounded like it was underwater, as well as the shouts from Sarge and Husk just a few feet away. “You good, brother?”

“Yeah.” My throat felt dry, making my words come out hoarse. It took a lot more effort than I cared to admit moving my eyes off the used needles. “Looks like someone was in here.”

He eyed me cautiously as he moved toward the closet that was the room behind the metal door. “Whoever they are, they work fast.”

I looked around the room that Husk just tore to shit, realizing we weren’t going to find anything here. I heard a deep breathing from behind me, V breathing in his nose and out his mouth. His eyes were wild, looking everywhere but in the room; his pupils dilated like he was about to lose his shit.

That was the last thing we needed.

“V, get the fuck outta here.” His breathing turned rapid as he turned and rushed up the stairs. V was ruthless, but he hated when he blacked out and lost control because he knew what we would have to use to calm him down.

He was deathly afraid of sharp objects, needles specifically. When he got information, it wasn’t with precision cuts, it was with blunt force.

I looked at Husk, my brother looking more dejected than I’ve ever seen him. He might’ve been in a room where Marilyn was, and he was just an hour too late. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling, didn’t want to imagine what he was feeling. He walked to the closet where Marilyn was possibly once held, and his grip tightened on the doorjamb, the wood creaking under his grip. He kicked the metal bucket on the ground, spilling its contents on the blood-coated ground. He sniffed and turned, slamming the metal door with all his might, busting one of the hinges. He looked lifeless as he walked out of the room, footsteps heavy as he marched up the stairs, never looking back.

I stepped after him when a hand on my shoulder stopped me. “Let him process. Getting in his way is going to do no one else any good.”

Law was right. Husk would kill anyone for looking at him cross-eyed right now. He didn’t need to be sedated; he just needed to bleed his fists into a punching bag… or someone’s face. We always had some toys at Hellbound for him to play with.

“Don’t think we’re going to find anything here. Would be a good idea to talk to Nyla and see if she remembers anything else.” Law took one last look at the now trashed room. “Where did Nyla say she found those pictures?”

“In boxes in the corner—” I turned to every corner in the room, but not seeing a single box. “They must’ve taken them.”

“This is a step in the right direction; we’ve spent years trying to get as much information as we got today.” Law began his trek out of the basement, not wanting to be here as much as I did.

I couldn’t disagree, but I hated that it was Nyla who found it out. I’ve tried to keep her separated from this side of the club, but who would’ve thought she’d be the one to give us a lead in the direction we’ve been trying to pave for years.

Walking up the stairs, I couldn’t resist looking back at the scattered needles calling my name. I ripped my eyes off them, trying to keep my shit together. I had to, there was too much at stake right now. The day would come when I could give in to the point of no return, but that day wasn’t today.

God, I hoped it was soon though.

I followed Law outside, not seeing V or Husk’s bike. Law threw his leg over his rod. “Let’s go see what Nyla knows.”

“No.” I didn’t want to be around Nyla, not while I was like… this. Like I was hungry for something that ruined my life. For the first time since I met her, I wished I would’ve stayed away from her. My skin was itchy for my vice, my thoughts focusing on it.

“We need to talk to her, Grim.”

“I know.” I was irritated beyond relief, my heart racing a mile a minute. I needed to get the fuck out of here. “I doubt she’s in any capacity to talk right now. I already told you guys what she told me. She needs time to process things, too.”

He looked at me. “I’m gonna go talk to her myself. You comin’?”

“No, I have something to do.” I shot him a stern glare. “If Nyla asks where I am, tell her I’ll come for her later.” Once I feel half-way like myself again, like I’m not a fuckin’ failure.

He watched me carefully, trying to figure me out. I was a hard read, especially during my low periods. He knew I needed space, and knew it was bad since I didn’t even want to be around Nyla. “You call me if you start thinkin’ crazy things, okay?”

Too late for that.

He knew I wouldn’t, but I nodded as he revved his bike down the off-beaten trail of Leela’s property. Once he was a good distance, I dug into my pocket, pulling out my cracked phone. The shame burned me as I dialed a number I never thought I would call again.

“Mitchy? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I answered, absolutely hating that nickname, but it was a code. “You still got the goods?”

“You know I do. How much you need?”

“Dime. I’ll quit again afterward.” That’s what you said every time and didn’t stop.

“Tonight, eight o’clock, original place. Don’t call this number again.” The line went as dead as I felt inside. The burner phone I had in my hand was crushed, falling to the ground in pieces. I couldn’t stop picturing the needles we found in Leela’s basement, the phantom feeling of them breaking the skin, the rush as I pushed the plunger, and the blissful quiet afterward. Breath quaking, I took a detour to the place I belonged.

The graveyard.

CHAPTER 21

Nyla

I t’s been six days since I went inside Grandma’s basement.

And five since I’ve seen Mitchell.

Trevor came back to the clubhouse without him, telling me Mitchell would come get me later. I thought later would be a few hours, not midnight.

When he did come back to the clubhouse after checking out the basement, he was pale and refused to look at me. When I went to him, he stepped away from me, as if my touch was poison. He’s never reacted that way—usually, when we were together in a room, he acted as if I was a magnet. He seemed… off.

It reminded me of the way he looked at the graveyard, and the way he was vulnerable under the dim light of the diner on our first date. Instead, this time, he didn’t want me to help him. He was giving me the space I’d been begging for ever since the night of the party.

Except, now… I didn’t want this space, I wanted him to remind me that life is worth so much more than it feels right now. I wanted him to hold me and make me feel safe, since I feel anything but. I wanted him to talk to me about more than just the dangers that are lurking around every corner. I… I just wanted him.

“You’re gonna go stay with Law.” His voice sounded dead, far from reality. “Take care of yourself.” With that, I watched him walk away, not turning back to look at me once.

That was five days ago. Darrell said he was dealing with some club things and to leave him be. It’s funny, I’d been begging Mitchell for space and now that he gave it to me, I didn’t like it. I’d grown accustomed to his cocky smirks, his coercion, and the way he’d been a constant presence in my life. Now that he was gone…

I felt lonely without him.

As much as I hated to admit it, I wanted his comfort… needed it. My nightmares have ramped up lately, leaving me tossing and turning with no end in sight. My eyes were bloodshot, the bags underneath them noticeable—and have been pointed out multiple times by the brothers.

I was still under their protection, just not Mitchell’s anymore. As Mitchell said, I’ve been staying with Trevor and Oakley, though I’d much prefer to be with him.

I didn’t realize how much I’d relied on him emotionally. How crazy was that? He hurt me, dragged me to a party, and got me involved in the dark side of life I was oblivious to.

I wasn’t ready to forgive, but I was ready to sit down and listen to him and his story. Maybe I could get insight into him, the way he thinks and acts, and then maybe we could go forward to the road of forgiveness… together.

We had a very long and tumultuous road ahead of us—if Mitchell even wanted to go down it with me.

I had more questions than answers about the basement. Was Dad part of the Flock? Was he getting rid of Grandma’s house to hide the evidence? Is that why he convinced me that I should give her house up? Even though he knew how much it meant to me? Was the Flock more important to Dad than his daughter’s heart? Every time I thought about him being involved in such a heinous thing, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t know why else it would be in Grandma’s basement if he didn’t have something to do with it. And I was smart enough not to ask about it… I haven’t seen him since the night we had dinner. We’ve exchanged a few messages about Uncle Rand’s care, but that was the extent of it.

Which led me here, washing dishes in Uncle Rand’s kitchen. The Souls knew I was here. They told me if I suddenly denied coming to take care of my uncle after I agreed, it would draw suspicion. I had precautions in place—meaning a brother was close, but not close enough to set off any hidden alarms there might be. There was only one man I wanted to protect me, but he was vapor in the wind.

Where are you, Mitchell?

“Hey, Ny, could you grab me a beer?” Uncle Rand’s question drew me out of my thoughts. His surgery was successful, and now the long road to recovery began.

“Uncle Rand, you know you’re not allowed to have alcohol with your pain meds.”

“Oh, come on, live a little.” He tried to persuade me. “I ain’t dead yet.”

I shook my head. “You can get a beer when you can get up and get it yourself… and once you’re off pain medication.”

He sighed. “You’re gonna be a helluva nurse, bossy wench.”

I laughed, brushing off his half-hearted insult. “Speaking of pain meds, ready for a nap?”

“I reckon. I’m out like a damn light as soon as I take the damn things,” he grumbled, taking the small cup of medication I handed him before throwing them back with a swig of water.

“You heal best when you rest,” I sang to him as he mumbled something I couldn’t make out. “How about to make up for no beer, I’ll clean instead. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah.” His voice was groggy as the pills were already kicking in. Breaking your bone clear in half gave you the strongest of medication. His breathing slowed, telling me he was already out like a light.

I decided to wait a few minutes to let him get deeper into his sleep cycle so I didn’t disturb him in case I was loud cleaning up. I grimaced, looking around at the state of his home. Uncle Rand wasn’t the cleanest of men, but I thought at least he’d take better care of it than this. With the way my dad compensated his employees, I would think he would at least hire a housekeeper.

I shook my head at my judgmental thoughts. We all had struggles we couldn’t face, things we mentally couldn’t do. If Uncle Rand couldn’t find the strength to clean his home, then I would do it for him when I had the time. Everyone deserves a clean place to live.

Walking to his bedroom, I figured I’d start his laundry since that would take the longest, and I could do other things while the washer was going.

I perched the dirty laundry basket on my hip, begrudgingly making my way to the basement door. Uncle Rand’s washer and dryer were in his basement, so I would have the lug the heavy basket down a flight of stairs, which I wasn’t looking forward to. It wasn’t the only reason I wasn’t looking forward to trekking in a basement—after all, the last time I searched for one, I found stuff that gave me nightmares.

And lately, I’ve had to face them alone. Sure, I could have talked to Oakley about it, but I really didn’t want to put anything else on her—I had put her through enough. I could have talked to Joslyn, but with everything going on with Jordyn, how could I burden her with more? And Trevor had tried to talk to me about it, but… I just couldn’t.

I’ve never felt so alone, and I didn’t realize how much of a staple Mitchell became in my life. From where we started, to where we ended up, to where we were now were different phases. Each one growing with intensity I couldn’t deny even if I was fighting what was constantly thrown at me. With each stage a wall that built itself after his deceit eradicated with the truth behind his actions.

I couldn’t blame anyone but myself and giving parts of myself to those who don’t deserve it. Mitchell was clear that we would only be physical, and that no feelings should be involved. I was blinded by my hatred for him at that time, and I never thought I would be in the beginning stages of seeing a future with him like before the party.

It was beyond that now. I didn’t just see a future with him… I wanted a future with him.

But his avoidance told me all I needed to know. He didn’t feel the same.

And I’ve never felt so empty inside.

I started my descent down the stairs, wary of my surroundings. Hitting the bottom step, I reached for the cord to turn on the light. When the lightbulb lit up the basement, I quickly took in my surroundings, dropping the basket full of clothes as my stomach churned.

Right in front of me was a door, and not just any door, but the same kind of metal door I found in my grandma’s basement. My heart pounded in my chest as the anxiety rushed through my skin. Gulping, I tried the same tactic I did just days ago. “H-hello? Is anyone there?”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The immediate bangs against the door tugged at my heartstrings. How could they lock someone behind this door? Did Uncle Rand know?

Was Uncle Rand a part of the reason those women disappeared?

I rushed to the door, deciding I could get the answer some other time. Right now, my focus was on saving whoever was behind the metal door. “I’m going to get you out. You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I looked at the door, finding the same type of padlock as the one at my grandma’s. I rushed around the basement, looking for something I could use to cut the lock off. I looked toward the staircase, seeing light bounce off something. Running over, I found a metal box. Prying the lid open, I dug through the useless tools before growing frustrated and dumping the whole thing, not thinking about how loud the tools hitting the ground would be. I grimaced, waiting for Uncle Rand’s call, but it never came. Sifting through the tools, something small amongst the pile caught my eye.

A key.

I picked it up, going back over to the door and grabbing the padlock. With my hands shaking violently, it took a few tries to insert the key. I turned the key, hoping and praying it would unlock the door. The relief I felt when I heard the click almost made me cry.

The sight beyond the door took all the breath out of my lungs.

A woman, who was no older than me, was cowering in the corner, completely naked besides the scratches, dried blood, and bruises on her pale skin.

“Oh… my God,” I breathed, absolutely horrified. My eyes stung at the pressure behind them and my heart hurt for this poor soul who was visibly shaking. “Oh my God.” When she looked up at me, the mix of absolute horror and fear made my tears flow. I stopped breathing.

It was the girl from the pictures… The one in the red dress.

“Help me.” Her voice trembled, coming out hoarse from the lack of water or use, I wasn’t sure. “You have to help me. Please.”

“I’ll get you out of here,” I promised, swallowing my fear in favor of hers. “I won’t leave you this time. But I need to make a call, okay?”

“Please help. Don’t leave me.” The panic in her voice was evident as she rocked herself back and forth in a protective ball as she sobbed, “Please… don’t leave me.”

I didn’t know what to do, my mind was working on auto pilot. I wasn’t thinking when I dialed the number, my stomach sinking when he didn’t answer. “No, no, no.”

I tried again, anxiety so intense, I felt like I was going to vomit. This wasn’t part of the plan the Souls had in place for me to do in case everything went to hell, but Mitchell was the only one I could think of to save me. His voice was disgruntled, like he was out of it, when he finally answered, “Nyla?”

“Get here. Now. Please. Oh my God.” I was sobbing with relief that he picked up. “Mitchell.”

“Where’s here? What’s happening?”

“I—” I choked out, unable to get the words out. The sight of the frail woman in front of me crushed my heart. “Uncle Rand’s house. Just get here, please.”

“On my way. Stay on the line with me,” he soothed as I heard the engine of his bike roar in the background. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Nyla?” I froze when I heard Uncle Rand call my name. “Where are ya, kid?”

“Shit,” I said under my breath, looking at the woman in front of me who was still rocking back and forth, folding her body to make her look as small as possible. “Honey? I gotta go talk to my uncle.”

“Devil,” she whispered, confusing me. “Devil man… He’s the Devil.”

“Who are you talking to, Nyla? What the fuck’s going on?”

I took a deep breath, hoping what I was about to do was the right decision. “I’m putting my phone in my pocket.”

“Nyla—”

“It’s bad, Mitchell… it’s so bad,” I cried, despite trying to be strong. Something about Mitchell just made me feel safe enough to feel what I was actually feeling, despite him avoiding me for the past few days. “Please let me try to stall until you get here.”

I heard him growl on the line. “Don’t care about nothing more than your safety, Nyla. If shit gets fucked, you save yourself. You hear me?” I didn’t answer, which seemed to piss him off. “Nyla—”

“I… I can’t promise that.”

“Nyla!” I slid my phone into my pocket despite Mitchell’s angry shout. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on him; I had to focus on this poor woman who’s been horrifically abused.

“I’m doing some laundry, Uncle Rand!” I shouted up the steps. “Did you need something?”

“Get outta the basement!” His tone sounded frantic. “I got some stuff down there that could hurt ya!”

“Let me finish this load of laundry, and I’ll be up, promise!” I called back, keeping an eye on the girl who flinched every time Uncle Rand spoke. I felt my chest constrict; there was a reason she was so scared of just someone’s voice.

“Now, Nyla! Get the fuck up here! Don’t make me call your dad!”

I furrowed my brows, panic rising that Uncle Rand wasn’t kidding around with me. In my whole life, he was the fun uncle, always sneaking me sweets and letting me stay up past my bedtime, despite my father’s strict rules. “I’ll be up in a minute!” I turned my attention back to the girl, who was shaking so hard I was scared she would hurt herself with the force. She just kept repeating the word ‘Devil’ and in my heart, I knew she was talking about Uncle Rand.

A sudden scream from the nude woman resounded through the basement, no doubt bouncing off the walls upstairs, so Uncle Rand heard her. I heard a very loud curse, followed by a loud thud on the floor. “I’m coming, you fuckin’ wench!”

Panicking, I raced up the stairs. Hitting the top step, I found my seething uncle on the floor, his face beet-red as his teeth clenched together. Slamming the door shut, I tried my best to find the lock on my side as he tried to force it open on his. “Told your dad you were a fuckin’ mistake, that you’d fuck this all up for us. Dumbass thought getting revenge was more important than what we’d worked for our whole lives!”

I froze. Revenge? Revenge for what? My hesitation was a mistake since he was able to pry the door open, revealing him standing at his full height, which was only a few inches taller than me. His weight easily doubled mine, making him much stronger physically than me. “Gotcha, wench.”

Screaming, I rushed down the stairs. With my back pressed against the wall, the woman’s shouts of Devil grew louder and louder. I wanted to move, but no matter where I went in this basement, Uncle Rand would have a clear view of me. I looked to where his crawlspace used to be.

I froze. It was filled in…

They were prepared this time.

I was scared, but I refused to let Uncle Rand get to the now hysterical woman. He would have to go through me first. The only thing saving me was the fact that there was no way he could come down the stairs with his bum leg.

I breathed in my nose and out my mouth, trying to calm the rising panic attack. The panic amplified when Uncle Rand pulled out his pistol, cocking the chamber back as he pointed it at me. “He swore he’d raise you to be submissive, a good girl who wouldn’t ever disobey. We all agreed if you weren’t, you’d be taken care of.”

“There’s no way my dad would’ve agreed to that!” I spat. There was no way he would put an order in place to kill me as a backup plan.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” The smirk that formed on his lips made my blood freeze. “It’s a shame, too. We’ve waited twenty-two years to lock you in Leela’s basement, Vincent made that cell especially for you.”

I stopped breathing, maybe I forgot how to? In this moment, I felt like it was the end staring at the barrel of Uncle Rand’s gun. Even if I somehow survived this, it would never be the same. Nothing would ever be the same again. I could tell when someone was lying.

And Uncle Rand wasn’t lying.

I felt numb. This couldn’t be real. I kept telling myself this was just another nightmare, one that I would wake up from soon when Mitchell came into his guest bedroom and crawled into bed with me. Coaxing me awake with his fingers or his devilish tongue. I slammed my eyes shut, a mantra repeating in my head.

Wake up, Nyla. Wake up. Wake up. Wake. Up.

I willed my eyes open, stomach bottoming out when I still saw Uncle Rand with his evil smirk and barrel of his pistol pointed and ready to end my life without a second thought. There wasn’t anything I could do but accept my fate. I closed my eyes and prayed the woman I found would find peace, that Mitchell would get here in time to protect her from Uncle Rand.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I thought about the man who made me feel so many different emotions. But now I knew the truth.

Grandma’s basement… I smashed my way through more than just the door.

I smashed my way to a future that would’ve been mine if Mitchell hadn’t bulldozed his way into my life. I would’ve just been another picture in a box, tucked away in the corner of the box, locked behind the door to never been seen or remembered again.

Mitchell saved me… he saved me by betraying me.

Neither of us knew it at the time.

I smiled as the tears ran down my face. Ruly dirty blond locks and hazel eyes appeared as I closed my eyes for the final time.

Goodbye, Mitchell.

“Fuck!” Uncle Rand’s curse was followed by a loud crashing of the doors, his hollers of pain combining with each loud thump. I refused to open my eyes because if I didn’t see it, then I didn’t have to believe it. Instead, I held in my scream as I listened to the heavy footfalls racing down the stairs.

“Nyla? Speak to me, baby. Are you okay?”

Mitchell.

Feeling the comforting touch of his fingers on my face, calloused thumbs brushing away the endless tears streaming down my cheeks, I opened my eyes. I swallowed with a heavy amount of force as I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his neck as I let the sobs take over my body. Instantly, his hand went to the back of my head, petting my hair. “Told you it was going to be okay, pretty girl. I’ll take care of you.”

I tried to block out the sounds around me as I attempted to control the force of my sobs and let myself get lost in Mitchell’s warmth. More footsteps rushed down the stairs. Yells, threats. A heavy object slapping against skin, followed by Uncle Rand’s cries. I clenched my teeth, hoping the pressure would block out some of my hearing. I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to feel.

I just wanted to be with Mitchell. No matter how many times he said he was a monster, he always countered with how I was his treasure, and he would protect me.

My dad used to fight all my monsters for me, but now I knew…

He was worse than a monster.

After what felt like forever, Uncle Rand’s cries finally stopped, but the fleshy sound of a bat hitting torn skin continued, followed by the tangy, coppery scent of blood.

“V.” Mitchell’s chest vibrated as he spoke. His hand was still petting my hair, an action he knew always calmed me down. “That’s enough. We need him alive.”

“Why?” Came V’s curious reply. “Men like him don’t deserve to breathe.”

“Nothin’ I’d like more than to take his last breath, brother. But he could have the answer to all the other missing girls. You can play with him after we get the answers.” He clutched me tighter. “And once I’m done with him.”

V didn’t bother responding as I lifted my head from Mitchell’s chest. I gulped, seeing the man who helped raise me lay in a bloody mess on the floor. I felt a hand on my cheek, pushing my head in a different direction. “Look forward, pretty girl.”

I didn’t protest; instead, I watched as Darrell and Law made their way through the opened door in the basement, my heart tightening when I heard the woman’s screams once again. If I had to guess, seeing such big men invade her space most likely terrified her.

“Clarissa?” Darrell asked over the girl’s cries for help. “Clarissa Akers?” Her cries died down as he said the name. I couldn’t see what was happening since I didn’t have eyes on her, but I assumed Darrell calling her by her full name caught her attention. “I’m a friend of Greyson’s. He’s been looking for you, sweetheart.”

“G-Greyson?”

Darrell nodded. “Yeah, Greyson. May we get you to a safe place? I promise not to touch you; I just want to get you out of here.”

“G-Girl,” she whimpered. “Where’s the girl? She promised not to leave. Did she leave?”

Darrell looked over his shoulder at me, indicating for me to come over. “She’s still here; she didn’t leave.”

I wiped my cheeks and Mitchell helped me stand, then followed me to Clarissa.

I walked past Uncle Rand’s body, trying not to look this time, but couldn’t resist a peek. My stomach churned seeing his eyes half open, barely clinging to life. So much rage went through me as I walked over to him, kicking him right in the face. The satisfying crunch of his nose by the force of my foot felt good, but not good enough. I went for another kick, but was stopped.

“I get you want your revenge, but we have more important things to focus on,” Mitchell calmly expressed. “That woman in there’s been through hell and then some. You’re the only one who can help her right now. You won the battle, but there’s still a whole war we have to face together.”

His words hit me hard. He was absolutely right. I doubted this poor soul was Uncle Rand and my father’s only victim. My mind briefly went back to the hundreds of photos I found in the box in Grandma’s basement and felt nauseous. Were all of them victims, too?

Walking over to the door, my heart broke as I saw the woman in the same position I’d found her in not even a half hour ago. Instead of being tucked into herself, she was looking at us, fear and curiosity plaguing her features. I gave her a kind smile as I cautiously stepped toward her. “Hey, honey, may I help you stand?”

She nodded, trying to stand herself but ultimately failing. With care, and making sure she saw my movement, I helped her stand, though she was very shaky on her feet, like she wasn’t used to standing anymore. We still had an issue, though; she was naked and exposed to a group of men she didn’t know. I heard her whimper as she curled in on herself again, trying to shield her nude body from them. I bit my lip, taking off my sweatshirt. She was a few inches shorter than me and heartbreakingly thin for her frame. Anything at this point would fit her. “Here. Sorry it’s not much, but it’s enough for now.”

I helped her put the sweatshirt on, which reached just below her bottom, effectively covering her from the men who made it a point to not look in her direction. Clarissa couldn’t stand without my support, so we slowly made our way out of the basement. The men formed a wall between us and Uncle Rand as we walked by, but Clarissa stopped.

“P-Please.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Darrell asked.

“I need to see him,” she croaked. “I need to know the Devil died.”

The men shared a look before stepping away from Uncle Rand’s body. The rise and fall of his chest was labored, only noticeable if you studied that area. Clarissa just stared at his face, seeing the half-lidded dull gray staring in no particular direction. I hope she believed he was never going to hurt her again.

She tried to walk closer, stumbling slightly, but I was there to be her crutch. I watched her mouth move before spitting on his body. “Hell is not good enough for you, Devil. You didn’t win.” Her voice broke from the emotion, the hoarse sob breaking free from her dry lips. “You will never win.”

Her strength was inspiring. Going through hell, then having the strength to face her abuser and tell him he lost, that was pure, unadulterated strength. I just wished she was the one who was going to pull the trigger; maybe that would help her, along with the extensive recovery she was sure to go through. But he would soon be buried six feet below…

Actually, that was too good for him. I would have to talk to Mitchell about a proper burial for scum like him. Shame sank into my bones that I never noticed what my family was doing behind the scenes.

The trek up the stairs was slow, Clarissa having to hold on to the side rail as well as me. The men were close by in case we needed them, but they kept a respectful distance between themselves and us.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off with every step we took toward the outside. But I couldn’t give up, not on her. She’s already been through enough.

We stepped out the threshold, not missing the way Clarissa stilled as the outside air surrounded us. She took a big inhale through her bloody nose, exhaling shakily out of her mouth. Her smile was wobbly as her eyes watered…

I wondered when the last time she felt fresh air was.

Gingerly, we made our way down the front porch steps, and she stiffened when Trevor spoke. “Put her in my car, Ny.” I nodded and we made our way toward Trevor’s vehicle. I helped Clarissa into the backseat, but when I didn’t get in with her, the way she looked at me broke my heart. She thought I was going to leave her.

“I’ll come in a second,” I reassured her as her blue eyes were wild with fear. She gulped before nodding, never taking her eyes off me, even as I shut the car door. I let out a shaky breath, trying to stay strong but needing to relieve some of the pressure I was feeling. I felt a hand on my arm, and I looked up at Law, who’s always been a second father figure to me. My lips trembled as I flung myself at him, and he immediately returned my embrace.

“We’ll get this sorted, but no matter what happens, you’ll always have a place in my family.” I nodded against his chest before pulling away and offering him a shaky smile. “Damn proud of ya, kid.”

“Thanks, Trevor.” I turned to look at Mitchell, whose eyes haven’t left mine since finding me in the basement. “I know you’re pissed—”

“Pissed doesn’t even register on the scale of how I’m feeling right now.” His tone was even, which scared me more than him being mad. “We’re going to have a nice chat later.”

“Yeah.” My response was bold, looking at him with as much anger as I could muster. “I want to have a chat with you, too.”

His lips thinned but otherwise, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t get to avoid me like I meant nothing to him and expect everything to be okay when he felt like coming around again. I needed him near, but I also needed him present. If he wasn’t going to be present with me, then I guess the only thing he might be good at is breaking my heart.

“Lay off her, Grim.” Trevor came to my defense. “She’s a selfless person, and without her, we wouldn’t have gotten a lead on the Flock. Reckless, yes, but let’s just take the good out of this fucked situation.”

“Oh?” he challenged. “So you wouldn’t care if Oakley did this, as long as there was a positive outcome?”

Trevor growled, but he wasn’t the one who responded. “I wouldn’t allow Oakley to come here alone.” All heads swiveled to V, who was pulling a cleaning cloth out of his back pocket.

“Don’t talk about my daughter as if you own her,” Trevor spat at him, not the least bit intimidated as V wiped the blood off his baseball bat, giving him his usual lifeless stare. “Would I be happy if Oakley did what Nyla did? Fuck no. I’m not happy Nyla endangered herself, but it came from a good place and had a good outcome. There’s no point in dwelling on what could’ve been when it didn’t even fuckin’ happen.”

“Alright, assholes, we don’t have time for this shit,” Darrell intervened. “We’ll settle this at the clubhouse. Clarissa’s brother is on his way, and that poor woman deserves a nice bed.”

Clarissa didn’t deserve to be around anymore malice. I opened the backseat of Trevor’s car, ignoring Mitchell’s gaze in favor of Clarissa, who looked at me with palpable fear. I gave her my best comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Clarissa.” She began to tremble. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Right?

CHAPTER 22

Mitchell

I  was trying to contain my rage on my way back to the clubhouse. Trying those pointless breathing exercises that shrink from rehab suggested I do whenever I felt as angry as I do right now.

But I was more than angry. I’ve never felt the way I’m feeling right now.

I was pissed. I was worried. I felt the monster I worked so hard to conceal coming undone. I was scared. For the first time in my life, I could admit I was scared shitless because of a frail-looking woman who came in and unexpectedly rocked my world.

And most importantly, I hated myself more than I ever did for picking my past sins over Nyla. Fuck, it almost got her killed.

Ever since we searched Nyla’s grandma’s basement and my old vice returned as a constant thought in my head, I hadn’t been around. I hadn’t been vigilant of anyone or anything but my own selfish desires. I told Nyla she was mine, that she was stuck with me, that she was my treasure to do with what I wanted, but lately, I haven’t been cherishing her like I should. She felt abandoned by her dad’s newfound disdain for her, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was using me as a crutch, taking her anger out on me, and I was fine with that. As long as she found peace in her fucked-up situation, I could find mine within her. And I had… until the basement.

I didn’t know about her taking care of her uncle; I didn’t know a damn thing that had happened with her for the past week. I would beat my own ass for treating her like a second thought, but I couldn’t go any lower than I was right now.

Was it worth it? The days and nights using and abusing myself to quiet the demons and voices inside me? Was all the money I threw away on poison worth losing Nyla? Was my addiction more important than her?

The answer should have been a no-brainer, and when I was in my right mind, it would have been an immediately no, that nothing was more important than Nyla… But for the last few days, whenever my mind became my own again and I could think rationally, I knew I had let her down, had let my brothers down, had let the club down. And as soon as that thought entered my mind, I would reach for the needle to make myself forget once again what a shitty person I had become.

But I couldn’t hide forever…

The moment Nyla shoved her phone into her pocket but left me on the line, leaving me to hear every little thing she was going through when I wasn’t there with her, gutted me. Hearing that motherfucker call her a mistake, hearing that her piece of shit father had a backup plan to kill her if things went sideways… I was spitting blood, thanking God that I passed no law enforcement going fifty over the speed limit to get to my girl. I was surprised when I saw V and Trevor down the road from Nyla’s uncle’s house, but I didn’t stop to chat with him. All I heard was my heart beating in my ears and the sound of tires burning the pavement, praying to a God that hated me that I would get there in time.

When I rushed into the house, I saw Rand intimidate her from the top of the stairs. I didn’t see the gun at first, my only focus was getting to Nyla. Thankfully, V took the fucker’s other knee out and he tumbled down the stairs to make a path for me to get to her. I thanked Christ that she didn’t have a mark on her, but the way she was terrified did something to my insides that I never wanted to experience again. I ignored V as he beat the man lifeless with his beloved bat, focusing on my world in front of me.

The way her pretty lips wobbled, trying so hard to hold it together, but ultimately breaking when she found shelter in my arms, was my undoing. Things between me and Nyla were filled with nothing but carnal urges and unidentifiable emotion at the beginning. She was just an unfortunate girl at the wrong place at the wrong time, and she became entangled in a web that was crumbling the only world she’d ever known. To anyone else, it seemed like she was handling it fine.

But I knew her better than she knew herself. I knew she was falling apart inside, knew it was only a matter of time before the dam inside her flooded for all around to see. But I wouldn’t let anyone else see her fall apart; I was the only one who would know that side of her.

When I got Nyla alone, we were going to have a little chat.

The front doors of the clubhouse burst open, putting everyone on high alert. Guns were drawn at the two dominating figures quickly making their way toward us.

“Stand down.” Prez’s command was clear as he strode in front of our armed positions to the man who looked a few years younger than Darrell but just as tall. Prez stuck his hand out halfway to him. “Greyson.”

He got straight to the point. “Where is she?”

“She’s resting. Our doctor sedated her, and currently has her on an IV to help her pain.”

That didn’t relax him one bit. “I want to see her.”

“Of course.” Darrell led Greyson and whoever was with him down the hallway. A lot of trust must be between them if he wasn’t having a brother follow with a gun pointed at them. “Once she was sedated, we had someone clean her up and washed her hair. Just a warning, even with that, she’s still in rough shape.”

He didn’t seem fazed by that—I’m sure he was expecting that. “I just want to see my sister.”

“Grim,” Prez called me, motioning his head in the direction of the hallway. “Come with us.”

I didn’t hesitate to follow, knowing who was currently with Clarissa.

“Nice to see you again, brother,” Greyson said as we walked down the hallway, motioning to the man next to him. “This is my old partner on the force, Ace.”

Darrell dipped his chin to him. “Darrell, president of The Unforgiven Souls MC.” He took it but didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t help my curiosity anymore. “Who are they, Prez?”

“Greyson is an old friend of mine.”

Greyson snorted. “Old friends don’t arrest each other, Darrell.”

“You’re a police officer?” We didn’t do pigs around here—too many complications and red tape.

“Was a police officer,” he stressed with loathing in his eyes. I could tell there was a story, but obviously, he wasn’t here for story time.

No one was in a particularly chatty mood as we made our way to the make-shift hospital Hex had built. Prez did a courtesy knock before walking in, my eyes immediately going to Nyla, whose eyes were glued to me as well.

“Rissa…” Greyson’s whisper was full of anguish. Ace ran to her bedside, and Greyson was right behind him as Nyla got out of their way, walking over to Prez and me. The way Greyson and Ace were with her, the way they were relieved that she was alive was felt by everyone.

“We’ll give y’all some privacy,” Prez announced, ushering Nyla and me out of the room. “If you need anything, we’ll be out here.”

He didn’t expect a response as he closed the three in, letting out a ragged breath. “Greyson’s been looking for Clarissa for over a year. He knew we’d been looking for Marilyn, so he asked us to keep an eye out for Clarissa, too. Hated that Nyla found her the way she did, though.”

Yeah, me too. I didn’t want Nyla involved in anyway, but now she was right in the middle of it. Speaking of Nyla, she was looking at the closed door, rubbing her chest to hopefully alleviate the hurt she was feeling. “That poor girl’s been through so much… her face kept tensing and she was whimpering. I hope she can heal one day.”

I wasn’t optimistic. What happened to her will stay with her forever.

“We need to talk about what you saw in Leela’s basement. Grim told us a few tidbits, but we want to hear it from you.” She visibly tensed, obviously not wanting to discuss what she saw in her grandma’s basement. “We’ve been on this mission for years with no information until now, Nyla. Your cooperation could help save a lot of women and children.”

Reluctantly, she nodded.

“I found a picture of the basement, and there was a door down there that I’d never seen before. I tried to go down there, but it was locked, so I smashed it open with a sledgehammer I found. When I went down the steps, I found…” Her inhale was shaky, reliving what she found wasn’t easy. “I found a box of pictures. I recognized every face but Marilyn and Clarissa. Grandma let everyone in those pictures stay with us until she found them a job and housing, but now I realize she sent them to Hell.” Her voice cracked with utter devastation. “Those pictures. I… I was going to be one of those pictures.”

We both remained silent, giving her time to sort out her thoughts when all I wanted to do was slit the throat of every motherfucker who wronged her.

Which apparently was a very long list. Myself included.

She was silent, trying to gather her words, but no matter what she said, I knew I was going to be tempted to slam my fist into a fuckin’ wall. “Uncle Rand told me. He told me Dad specially built the room in Grandma’s basement just for me.”

Jesus Christ. I sucked in a breath, not expecting that.

I growled but didn’t deny what Nyla’s fate would’ve been if I hadn’t forced myself into her life. “I would’ve found you.”

A small smile formed on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame anyone but myself for that. “Then I heard thumping behind the door; it sounded like someone was beating on the wall. My heart just knew someone was locked on the other side. I tried to get the padlock off with the sledgehammer, but someone showed up.”

“There’s probably a silent alarm around your grandma’s place,” Prez explained. “Do you know the person who showed up?”

“No, but honestly, I didn’t get a good look at him. I was too scared. I hid in the crawlspace for a while until I thought it was safe. I didn’t have my car, so I just started walking and hoped they didn’t find me.” Nyla sniffled and gazed up at Prez. “Did they know I was there? If they had a trip wire, they probably have cameras on the property.”

“They probably did know.” Prez’s answer was solemn, but it was the truth. “They were probably going to do something to you when you were at your uncle’s house.”

“Then why did you let her go!” I snapped at him when I should’ve been berating myself. If I was there, I wouldn’t have let her go to her uncle’s house. It was a stupid, dangerous decision that could have cost Nyla her life.

I should have known…

I would have known, had I not reverted to my old, fucked-up, drug-addicted self…

It almost took her away from me… just I was taking myself away from her.

“Funny thing, Grim.” His laugh was mocking. “I don’t remember seeing you anywhere in our discussion about Nyla. Wanna tell Nyla what you were doing? Because I know exactly where you were.”

My eyes narrowed, daring him to out me, but I knew he wouldn’t. I knew he was aware of exactly what I was doing, he just didn’t find out in time before this happened. I showed up at the clubhouse groggy and disoriented from my relapse, and I was ashamed to say the forefront of my mind was taking another hit. Nyla and her safety were more important—that’s what I had to keep reminding myself.

Don’t let your sins win when your future is right before you, scared and needing you.

“You let your sins win.” His disappointment was obvious, and that hurt worse than his anger. “You and I are going to have a nice talk, Mitchell.” He only used my name when he meant business. There was no point in trying to escape him; the brothers knew of my past habits and would be with him every step of the way to stop me even if I tried.

I dared myself to look at Nyla, who had a mixture of fear and concern on her face. She shouldn’t have been concerned for me; her life was crumbling apart because she met me, while mine was already ground to dust in the dirt. I was selfish—this disease that took over me made me selfish. I was undeserving of her.

I deserved to be six feet under.

“Mitchell?” Her concerned voice broke me out of my broody thoughts. I tried my best to smile at her, but I lacked the strength.

“It’s all gonna be okay, pretty girl.” You’re such a fucking liar. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later, okay? We have church.”

She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t shy away from my kiss on her cheek. “The girls are in the common area, so stay close. You’re not allowed to leave until we get this shit figured out.”

She spared one last longing glance before she made her way down the hall.

“She’s missed you.” No, she didn’t. You ruined her life, just like you ruined everyone else’s. “She was telling Victoria what she told us—that she would’ve been a forgotten picture in the box if it wasn’t for your meddling.”

“What I did was no better than kidnapping. I’ve beat her down mentally, I’ve stripped away her freedoms. Forced her to live with me and coerced her into sleeping with me.” My life was borderline maniacal. “She hates me. She’s said so herself.”

“This whole situation has been hard on her. And maybe she did hate you, but you gotta talk to her, Grim. She’s lost. You make her feel safe. Can’t deny the change in you since she’s come into your life, either.” His words softened. He knew what my plans were once we destroyed the Flock. “She’s given you something to live for.”

“I live for no one.” My growl was more animalistic than man. “I live for my sins, I live for avenging my mother and Mallory. And once I’m done with that, I’ll be nothing but a forgotten stone in the ground for her to spit on.” I turned away from him, done with this bullshit conversation. “She needs to hate me; she can’t care, or I’ll just hurt her even more.”

He didn’t bother calling out to me, but I knew our conversation wasn’t over, especially since he knew why I was gone for days without checking in.

I didn’t want Nyla to love me, but that wouldn’t stop me from loving her.

Because fuck, I already did.

“I was a police officer,” Greyson explained, standing next to Prez, exuding as much power as he did. If Prez trusted them enough to be in our church room—our sacred room where no information left—then they were good enough to be brothers to us. “I stopped when I noticed some things weren’t adding up on the force.”

“Crooked cops?” Tyrant scoffed. “Imagine that.”

“What things?” I asked, ignoring Tyrant.

“Files of missing women suddenly disappeared, hardened criminals were suddenly granted parole.” He shook his head. “My sister went missing during my time on the force. They classified her as a runaway and casted her case aside, but I never gave up searching for her. I went back to look at her file, but it was gone. I asked someone about it, and they said they found her and talked to her, but she wasn’t coming back. She was twenty-one, so if she wanted to, it was perfectly legal for her to move away, but I knew Clarissa wouldn’t do that.” His fists balled up at the sides, his jaw clenched. “And she didn’t.”

“Clarissa disappeared at the club one night with her friends. Her friends ditched her for some hook-ups and she was there alone. According to the cameras, she ordered a rideshare home, but she never made it home.” Ace’s voice was hard, eyes shutting tight before saying something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out.

Just another piece of information that reflected the Flock. We’d gotten word that they were signing up for rideshare apps in major cities, taking girls who were either drunk off their ass or alone. I hated that for Clarissa, but we would get her the justice she rightfully deserved.

He turned to Prez, his face full of gratitude. “We can’t thank you enough for finding her, brother.”

Prez shook his head. “I wish we found her in better conditions.”

“You and me both. I want to thank Nyla personally for putting herself in between Clarissa and that fucker who had her locked down there.” I couldn’t stop the growl that passed through my lips. “I get your ol’ lady put herself in danger, but it saved my sister and got us one step closer to the Flock.”

I get that, but Nyla shouldn’t have had to sacrifice any part of herself. “Who are you guys, anyway?”

“I’m Greyson Akers, and this is Ace. We’re on the similar missions to help…” He was trying to find the words to say, and a wicked smirk pulled on his lips when he did. “Help people realize what they’re doing wrong. But it’s too late when they see it’s us.”

An honorable man, then… morally wrong but honorable. “Do you run an MC?”

He shook his head. “No, we’re just a group of men that the wrong men fucked over.” His fingernails dug into the palm of his hand. “And he’s going to pay for it.”

“Together, we’ll take down the Flock.” Prez’s voice was full of determination. “The little pieces we’re gathering are that the Flock is more a national organization that’s spreading out in different territories. Our next step is to find Vincent Brooks and see what he knows.”

“Ran by his house, but no one was home. Husk’s been watching the house since Nyla discovered Marilyn’s picture.” Doesn’t surprise me that he’s made himself scarce since I gave him her photo. He was using it as his lifeline.

“Pretty sure he bounced,” Tyrant commented. “Has he been in contact with Nyla?”

Knight shook his head. “No. I’ve been keepin’ up with her records. His cell phone’s disconnected.”

“How’s she dealin’ with all of this? Ya know, with her family bein’ a buncha scumbags and all.”

“Not well.” She wasn’t. I may not have been around, but she couldn’t hide what she was feeling. She may not have processed it all, but once she did, I knew the dam would burst and I would be there to help stop the flooding. “Finding out the people you loved the most in the world are human traffickers isn’t easy to accept.”

“There’s time for discussion later.” What Prez said wasn’t heartless, but we were on a limited time frame to find Vincent. “We’ll deal with the aftermath once we find Vincent. Until then? All the girls, Nyla especially, must be watched.”

“We goin’ on lockdown?”

Prez shook his head at Knight’s question. “No. It might draw Vincent and his buddies out if we have the girls out in the open, but they’ll always be watched.”

“So were riskin’ them?” What he was even suggesting was pissing me off. Nyla was in more danger than any of us could’ve thought. “Leaving them out in the open puts them in danger.”

“But it could also draw them out,” Prez countered. “They have us by the throat. We know nothing about Vincent and what his role in this whole mess is. He could be a pawn in this game or he could be the ringleader, we have no idea. He’s hidden his tracks so well that we can’t find a lick of information on him—even his daughter doesn’t know who the fuck he is.”

“No.” I shook my head. Nyla knew nothing about her scumbag of a father. A smirk grew on my lips as I remembered just who we had at Hellbound. “Good thing we got someone who does.”

Prez’s grin was wicked as he looked around the room. “I’m ready to have some fun. How about you, boys?”

Resounding hollers bounced off the walls as we made our way out of church, ready for this motherfucker to meet his maker.

The fresh scent of blood filled my nose as I breathed in, feeling at home. V and Hex were in the room with Rand, whose arms were shackled to the wall, his face swollen and streaked with dried and fresh blood, courtesy of V.

His head was pointed toward the ground, posture slack. V had a bucket of ice-cold water in his hands, ready for our signal. Prez nodded. “Wake him up.”

An agonized groan escaped our prisoner’s lips as the ice-cold water drenched his naked body. He could only open his right eye, barely. He looked pathetic and miserable.

He was going to look dead in a minute.

“Wakey, wakey,” Prez mocked as he walked over to him, gripping the back of his hair. “Ready to talk?”

“Fuck you.”

A laugh came from Prez’s throat. “You won’t have anything to fuck with after this conversation.”

Fear passed through his eyes as his throat muscles worked the lump in his dry throat. “I ain’t sayin’ shit.”

“Is that right?” Prez’s reply was dry as he glanced at V and motioned his head in Rand’s direction. V knew how to get people to talk. The fucker was very creative with his forms of torture, and he didn’t even have to use any sharp objects.

We all watched as V approached Rand, who had a slight sweat forming on his forehead watching V—who was well over six-foot and wore a surgical mask wherever he went. Needless to say, he was what nightmares were created from, and Rand would get a first-hand account as to why that was.

He deserved everything he had coming to him. Nyla’s terrified face as he was about to take her away from me was punishable by death.

V lifted his hand to an open wound on his arm—caused by V’s beloved baseball bat—and stuck his finger in the wound, giving it a slight twist. Rand’s agonized cries followed, and I couldn’t find a fucking ounce of sympathy for his pain. What he was feeling right now didn’t compare to the amount of anguish he had caused others.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” he screeched, wanting the pain of V’s finger in his open wound to stop. “Just fuckin’ stop!”

I could’ve laughed at how quick the pussy gave in.

“V,” Prez called him off, but not without one last twist and agonizing scream from his prey. V pulled back, even though he clearly didn’t want to. He was a hateful man, but nothing got him goin’ more than abusers like Rand.

Rand was breathing heavily, raspy and shallow. I’m sure V’s beating did a number on his airway. I was enjoying seeing this fucker suffer. I enjoyed seeing all abusers suffer, but the thought that there was a good chance he was going to do something to Nyla… my Nyla, made my fingers itch to close his airway permanently, information be damned.

Soon enough, there would be no more breath expelling from his body, and we’d make sure it was going to be a long, painful death.

Once he was able to get enough breath to talk, he opened his stupid fucking mouth, making my blood freeze. “Vincent was grooming Nyla to sell her.”

My stomach felt like it was bottoming out. My voice was calm, deadly, unbelieving. “What did you say?”

Another deep, agonizing breath. “He purposely isolated her for her whole life so no one would suspect a thing if she went missing. Renovated Leela’s basement to add a room where he was gonna lock ‘er in.” His head lifted weakly, one side of his lips tilting up. I debated ripping it right off his body. “Backfired when she befriended that fat bitch—”

A hand around his throat prevented him from talking. V’s pupils were dilated as his grip tightened. His face resembled stone that refused to be weathered. “Wanna say that again?”

“V!” Prez scolded him as Rand’s face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. “You need to let him go. We need answers; you’ll have your time with him later.”

If V heard him, there was no indication of it, his focus solely on the scumbag he was currently choking to death, completely unaware of Tyrant and Knight coming up behind him. They acted quickly, grabbing his arms and pulling him off Rand. He didn’t struggle, his mind hyper-focused on Rand’s hurtful words about Oakley.

Thank God Law was with the girls, otherwise, he might’ve killed him before we got answers.

Rand exhaled a few ragged breaths, his attempts at laughing at V’s lack of self-control coming out as pitiful wheezes. “If you’re gonna kill me, you can do it now.”

“It’s funny how you think your death is going to be anything but painful and horrifically slow. How slow it is depends on your cooperation.” My sardonic laugh was full of disbelief at his audacity. “You’re gonna tell us more about Vincent’s plans for Nyla, and then you’re going to tell us about Clarissa.”

“Vincent was closing in on a deal with a buyer for Nyla.” His eye narrowed hatefully at me. “But he wanted her to be pure.”

I cackled, prideful in the fact that I had involuntarily delayed Nyla’s imprisonment by fucking her. “She wasn’t pure after I was done with her.”

“He suspected as much. You bikers fuck any hole you can find.” He spat blood on the ground, pausing to inhale shakily. I could tell he didn’t have much life left in him, but luckily, we had Hex to fix that. But he wouldn’t be graced with that until we were done. “Which is why he told Nyla he found a buyer for Leela’s house.”

My brain clicked with what he was telling us. “He knew she would go there.”

He nodded with what little strength he had in his useless body. “Someone was gonna ambush her there, and we were gonna send her off… Her buyer was more than eager to get his hands on her” I bit my tongue until it bled, trying to hold my words in. “He just didn’t think she’d break down the fuckin’ basement door.”

“That’s because she’s fuckin’ smart.” I praised my girl. “Maybe if Vincent didn’t fuckin’ blow up on her that day, she would’ve been none the wiser. Her gears started turning at the fact her own fuckin’ dad didn’t want a damn thing to do with her after she didn’t listen to one command.”

“She’s a mistake,” he spat, blood dripping from his mouth with the overuse of his swollen throat. “We told him that, but he wouldn’t listen. He said having a kid would help draw more money, but the money didn’t mean anything if she was the one who was going to fuck our whole operation!”

I rushed to him, my eyes narrowed dangerously as my hand clasped the corners of his mouth, applying pressure. He grimaced, and I took delight knowing he was in pain.

“Call her a mistake one more fuckin’ time.” I squeezed his lips together, drawing blood from the open wounds, causing them to spill over. “The only fuckin’ mistake was you thinking you could play God for so many innocent woman and children. You’re not God, but you’re going to be crucified.” My lips grew as I bent down, making sure my eyes were locked on him. “You’ll be wishing for a crown of thorns, it’ll hurt less.”

He smiled, the blood staining his chipped teeth silently begging me to take him out. It took me everything not to fuckin’ kill him and give him the mercy of a quick death. I spit on his face, stepping hack, skin itching to take a shower to wash his filth off of my hand. “What about the pictures in Leela’s basement?”

“Leela took Nyla with her to those money pools to help draw the most profitable ones. We scout them out when they make a police report.” My hand flexed when he referred to the survivors at the shelter profit, but the information about scouting their police reports was new to us. “You’d be surprised how many people trust someone with a kid than without one. Vincent’s truly a genius; I just wish he could see past Nyla and give him the credit he deserves.”

What a sick fucking man. Using your own flesh and blood to lure innocent people in for profit. I couldn’t wait to watch the life dim from his eyes. “Who’s he?”

Rand winced at he inhaled through his broken nose, eyes closing. “Someone who’s going to kill me more slowly than you could ever deliver.”

“Doubtful.” Tyrant snorted. “V’s one creative fucker. And he’s got somethin’ special planned for you.”

“Marilyn.” Prez stepped up. “Where’s Marilyn?”

His smirk told us he knew who we were talking about. “Lost in a sea of women in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Prez stepped up, pressing against his broken arm making Rand cry out against his will. “You better fuckin’ tell us where she is.”

“I don’t know where she is anymore.” He hissed, trying to talk through the pain. “Last time I saw her, he was breaking her into her new life.”

Again, with the he. No one could tell us who he is.

How did one person have this much of a hold over so many people?

“You’re gonna die anyway.” Prez withdrew his hand, now coated in Rand’s blood. “Might as well tell us who he is, and maybe we’ll feel merciful.”

Rand paled; bringing out the abrasions and bruises that littered his skin. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“He knows all.” He whispered shakily, appearance growing ghastlier by the second as he chanted. “He knows all. He knows all.”

My eyebrows scrunched. What the fuck was he saying?

Prez tightened his fist, another tooth flying out of his mouth when his knuckles slugged against Rand’s mouth to shut him up. “You’re fuckin’ useless.”

Rand grinned, blood cascading from his open lips dripping on the concrete floor. “Good. You fuckers deserve to die. He knows who you are.” His hysteria was finally hitting him as his busted lip opened when he laughed. “Your judgment day is coming.”

“We’ll be ready.” Prez said with the upmost confidence. He never was one to back down from a challenge, even when we were at a disadvantage which we were with whatever the Flock’s leader was coming at us with. “Now tell us about Clarissa.”

Greyson and Ace were breathing heavily behind us, wanting answers from the man whose basement we found Clarissa in. Like the rest of us, they were barely hanging by a thread of patience with the helpless man who held the answers to so many of our questions.

He grinned, teeth stained with his blood. Likely knowing that what he was going to say would be his last words, he murmured, “My sweet Clarissa… She was a gift to me for reaching my quota for the year.” My stomach churned at him referring to innocent women as quota—like they meant nothing to anyone. “I had fun discovering she was a virgin—”

A blur passed me as Ace’s eyes were literally shaking with rage. His hands gripped Rand’s throat, but he didn’t look scared, he looked relieved it was finally over. When the life in his eyes was dimming, Ace let up, letting him breathe in his last words.

“Long live the Flock.”

Ace hit the side of his neck with the side of his hand, knocking him out. Rand thought pissing us off would send him into a quick death, and for a minute, I thought Ace was going to do just that. But I was glad when he came to his senses that this man deserved pain before his body was sent to the depths of Hell.

“Clarissa’s mine.” Ace had been quiet ever since he got here, the only time he spoke was when it had something to do with Clarissa. I guess I could see why now. My heart went out to them and the long recovery she would no doubt have. He snapped his head over to us, his crazed eyes resembling V’s when he blacked out. “He’s ours to kill.”

I opened my mouth to protest since he almost killed my girl, but Prez beat me too it. “Have your fun. A brother will be here with you.”

“Me.” Of course V volunteered. He wanted a front-row seat for anything that had to do with violence.

Prez nodded before motioning the rest of us out of the room. “I’ll be by in a few hours to check up on things. Make him suffer.”

“We will, brother,” Greyson answered, not taking his eyes off Rand. “He won’t get a proper burial.”

“Doesn’t deserve one,” I told him. “We’ll use the crematorium in the basement of Hellbound.”

“Careful, V,” Prez warned as the rest of us made our way out. “Don’t lose your shit. Greyson and Ace don’t know how to deal with your animal side.”

V didn’t answer; truthfully, I thought he was halfway to what we deemed his animal side already. If he transcended, it wouldn’t end well… for Greyson and Ace. “Maybe another brother should stay here—”

“Ain’t leavin’,” V clipped.

I sighed. Leave it to him to make shit more difficult. I looked over at Sarge. Next to V, he was our top fighter, and if V got out of control, Sarge would get him in control. “Mind stayin’ with them, brother?”

He grunted, and I took that as a yes since he didn’t follow us outside. Nothing more I wanted to do than to be there when Rand took his last agonizing breath, but I had more important things to deal with.

Prez looked at me. “I know you wanna get to Nyla. I know he disrespected your girl, but he’s done worse to Clarissa. Let her family get the satisfaction; your time will come.”

Yeah… with Vincent. I was going to make that fucker bleed. I didn’t bother waiting for my brothers, I had someone to see.

Nyla.

CHAPTER 23

Nyla

T he ride back to Mitchell’s house was solemn. I didn’t know how to feel about what I saw; I just felt numb. I barely registered when we pulled up to Mitchell’s house, or the way he helped me inside and sat me on the couch. The way he made me my favorite drink that cooled too much for me to enjoy while I just stared at the floor, my mind not able to think of anything but Clarissa, alone and bleeding, screaming for help in a soundproof room.

“Nyla.” I flinched, looking up to meet Mitchell’s concerned eyes. “We need to talk.”

Just another thing I didn’t want to deal with, Mitchell’s disappearance the past week. “No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” he countered as I dipped my head to the floor again. He tried to get my attention, but I didn’t have the strength to look at him. Instead, he walked to me, crouching to meet my eyes. “Don’t do this, Nyla.”

I laughed. Who did he think he was? “You can’t tell me what to do after you disappeared on me, Mitchell.”

His jaw clenched, not happy with what I said. “I didn’t—”

“But you did!” Something inside me ignited at his denial. He was the one I went to after I escaped Grandma’s basement, not anyone else. He left at a time I needed him, left when I didn’t know who else to turn to. “You left me for God knows what or who—”

“Didn’t step out on you.” He was adamant, and deep down, I knew he didn’t leave me for another woman. Even if whatever was between us was strictly physical, he wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. “I had some stuff I was dealin’ with.”

Mitchell looked more tired than he usually did, his eyes more sunken in, and his skin a sickly grayish color than his usual sun-kissed color. I furrowed my brows. “Like what?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He brushed it off as if it didn’t mean everything to me. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, teeth bared. “What matters is you put yourself in fuckin’ danger. Why didn’t you tell me about you goin’ to your uncle’s house?”

“I would’ve…” I tried to be as calm as I could, but the fuse was close burning to the seam. My face was flushed with anger as I bitterly said, “But you weren’t around for me to tell you.”

I could tell my words cut him deeply with the way his eyes flashed and he shot up, hands digging in his hair as he let out a disgruntled yell before his fist slammed into the wall creating a hole. His body heaved heavily as my anger was replaced with irrational fear. I knew Mitchell would never lay a hand on me, I’ve just never seen him this wound up before. “Fuck!”

I stood, my arms tucked into my chest. “What’s going on with you, Mitchell?”

“Everything.” He swiftly turned to look at me. “Fuckin’ everything, Nyla.”

I didn’t know what to say. The silence between us was deafening. His breathing was still ragged as sweat formed on his forehead, his eyes wild. Something was wrong with him. “Mitchell—”

“Don’t make this about me,” he chastised. “This is about you. You’re the one who was almost taken away from me.”

“You got to me in time.” I did my best to smile, even if it felt like I was falling apart. “That’s all that matters—”

“No.” He shook his head before looking at the floor, dirty blond hair shadowing his eyes. “What matters is I’ve been too fuckin’ selfish to be there for you. I’ve been caught up in my own problems, and I was blinded by everything you were goin’ through.” His laugh was maniacal, catching me off guard. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Nyla.”

“I don’t need your apologies.” My body began to tremble, his words sinking in and clashing with the memories of Grandma and Uncle Rand’s basement. I was at my breaking point. “I just need you.”

It amazed me at how he used to make me hot with anger, and now I found comfort in him. Maybe it was the circumstances; I didn’t have anyone else to turn to who I could honestly say would protect me. When I found those pictures, my first thought was Mitchell. When I found Clarissa, my first call was Mitchell.

Mitchell—the good or bad—was always at the forefront of my mind since the day I found him in the graveyard, and that’s where he would forever stay.

He walked over to me, his mouth pressing to mine heatedly. I instantly reciprocated, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer as I opened my mouth to him, his tongue invading my mouth, desperate to taste every inch of me.

His hands slid up my hips, hands sliding under my shirt, his callous touch making me forget the hell my life had become, even if it was just for a moment. My arms unclasped from around his neck, raising them up and disconnecting our mouths so he could remove my top. His hands coming back down, the rough texture of his fingertips a delicious contrast to my nipple, making me bite my bottom lip.

“Don’t hide your moans from me,” he demanded, a gasp leaving my lips as he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I need to hear you, need to know you’re alive. That you’re here with me.”

I nodded mutely, unable to say anything as he lowered his face to my chest, taking one pert nipple in his mouth as I exhaled a pleasured breath. His mouth left my nipple, lowering down my bare stomach with open-mouthed kisses until he reached my covered core.

His hands dipped in the waistband of my pants, stripping me of them and my underwear before sliding the clothing down my legs, not waiting for me to kick them away before his mouth was between my legs, his hot tongue lapping around my entrance. The noises leaving my parted lips were loud enough to echo around the room. I gripped the dirty blond strands of his hair, steadying his face as his tongue flicked my clit in a delicious repetition that made my legs tremble, weakening me with every swipe of his talented tongue.

He put pressure on his hands that were still on my hips, guiding me to his level on the ground. As I slid my knees to the floor, his mouth left my cunt, trailing kisses that were a mixture of us all the way until our mouths connected once again. Heat pooled as I tasted the combination of us on his tongue. His firm hands cupping my cheeks while mine rested on his chest to stabilize myself.

Pants escaped heatedly as Mitchell pulled back, throwing off his cutte and lifted his shirt over his head before pausing, keeping the hem down. I didn’t care about that as my hands found his belt, fiddling with getting his cock out of his constraints with impatient movements. Impatiently unfastened his belt along with the button of his jeans, reaching inside for my prize—his hiss of pleasure letting me know I received it.

I stroked him, rotating my wrist in a way I knew would drive him crazy. He threw his head back as my thumb brushed the pre-come on the bulbous head, spreading it to make my hand motions easier with the lubricant.

“Fuck!” Mitchell threw his head back with a strangled curse before moving his hands to my shoulders, gently instructing me to lay on the ground, which I did without complaint. He rid himself of his jeans and boxers, naked, with his large, veiny cock hovering over me. I lifted my hips as he directed himself in my entrance, pleasure rippling through every nerve as he pushed himself inside of me, stretching me in a way I craved.

“Never been so fuckin’ scared before, Nyla.” He confessed with each relentless thrust of his cock. His heated breaths made his voice raspy. “That fucker almost took you away from me.”

I reached up, hands sliding on his cheeks with each movement of his cock. I lifted myself to reach his lips, pressing mine against his with heated passion. I couldn’t speak, could only show him; prove to him I was still here with him.

That I was considering being with him.

I knew he wasn’t going to last, just like I wasn’t. The emotions rushing through us were overpowering as his thrusts brushed a sensitive part inside of me that had him swallowing my cry of pleasure as he repeatedly hit that area.

“God.” He groaned as he pulled his lips from mine, thrusts gaining momentum in his venture to take us to where we needed to be. His hand moved between our connected bodied, calloused fingertip rubbing circles against my clit. I threw my head back, the added pressure making my walls tighten around his cock, making him clench his jaw to the point I thought his teeth would shatter. “I’ve missed this. Missed you, pretty girl.”

‘I miss you too’ was at the tip of my tongue and if I could actually form coherent words, I might’ve let them slip through. Instead, I looked into his mossy eyes, colors swirling with lust and shame.

My lips parted as the dam burst inside of me. Sending me to a different world I wished I could reside in forever, not this one full of empty promises and sorrows.

Warmth spread through my lower half, my vaginal walls spasming putting Mitchell well-endowed cock in a chokehold. Pushing inside me three more shattering thrusts to ride out the complicated feelings we shared before falling on top of me, the fabric of his shirt brushing against my nipples amplifying my pleasure.

We laid there, letting our heated pants mix as we looked into one another’s eyes, daring the other to speak and break the newfound hold we had on one another.

The high was coming down. The unfortunate reality settled back in.

I needed answers. I was done letting people make decisions for me.

“Clarissa?” I asked as his head lowered to my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses that made me tempted to forget what we’d just been through.

“She’s safe now. Greyson and Ace are taking her home. They’re gonna get her the help she needs.” He took his mouth away from my skin long enough to explain, bringing me relief that she was finally going back home to start her long recovery.

The girl I saw in that picture was a far cry from the woman I found broken and disheveled in my uncle’s basement. I could only hope she’d recovered enough where she could find a sense of normalcy within the darkness of her heart. “Uncle Rand?”

His motions stopped, effectively killing the mood between us at the mention of his name. “He’s not a problem anymore.”

Dead. They killed him. I couldn’t be sad about it; in fact, I hoped he suffered before he took his last breath. “My dad?”

He made sure I was looking at him in the eyes before he told me the truth I already knew but didn’t want to accept. “We think he’s runnin’ the show.”

I felt weightless, the reality of what my life would’ve been like sinking in. “You saved me, Mitchell.”

His smile was rueful. “I kidnapped you, Nyla.”

“That may be true, but if you didn’t…” I inhaled, not wanting to believe the inevitable. “I would’ve ended up like Clarissa.”

His silence spoke volumes. A chuckle left my lips that turned into slightly unhinged laughter. Mitchell looked at me, worryingly like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I had—the past month I thought was grand had turned into one pit of darkness I was struggling to get out of.

Mitchell, the man who I thought had thrusted me into that darkness was actually the man to led me into the light. What a sordid turn of events. I couldn’t believe this was my life, didn’t want to believe this was my life.

“I’m not goin’ to let him get you, Nyla.”

My laughter died down. “Are you going to be here when he comes for me?”

“That’s not gonna fuckin’ happen!” he roared. His chest was heaving, and I wanted to believe him, but his track record told me otherwise. “I’m not leavin’ you again.”

“I’d believe you more if you told me the truth.”

I could tell he didn’t want to, and I doubted that he was going to. He clutched me to him tighter, his voice small. “If I do, you’ll leave.”

“I haven’t been with you all this time because I was willing, Mitchell. You won’t let me leave.” And I don’t want to leave. I don’t feel safe unless you’re close.

“You’re right, I’m not.” I was afraid he was going ram his fist into the wall again, but he looked withdrawn, trembling. He brought his palms closer to his face like he couldn’t handle who he was. Words escaped his lips, but they were mumbled, and I couldn’t make them out. “You’re not allowed to leave me, Nyla.”

“I don’t want to!” I confessed, my tears breaking free. “Don’t you see that? At first, I wanted to. I hated you for what you did, how you dragged me from the life I knew and the life you threw me into. I was even planning to tell my dad… but then discovering those pictures in Grandma’s basement changed everything.”

He laughed like he didn’t believe me. “You’re willing to forgive me playing with your heart and basically kidnapping you?”

“No.” I shook my head. Stuff like that wasn’t easy to forgive, and I doubted I would forgive easily. “But you taking me away was a better alternative than me being locked in a basement and sold by my own father. What you did still hurts, but I’m willing to try to work past it. You saved me, Mitchell. Why can’t you see that?”

“Still naïve as ever, Nyla.” His voice was dry, his tone felt like water dousing over me.

“Don’t say that.” My voice shook. “You’re so adamant on me not leaving you, so why do you constantly push me away?”

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you.” His voice was raw with emotion he was trying to keep in check but failing. “But I like pretending I do. Keeping you near me makes me feel like I’m worth something, worthy of someone like you. But at the end of the day, I can’t pretend who I am and what we are will never co-exist.”

That was like an arrow through the heart, shattering what little hope I had that we could be who we were before the party. Or who I was before the party, because the man Mitchell pretended to be wasn’t who he was.

“Why do you think that?” I wasn’t sure I was ready for his answer.

“Look at us now.” He threw his arms wide. “You were almost killed, and I had no fuckin’ idea the danger you put yourself in until you were actually there. Just another thing I’ll never forgive myself for.”

“What are you saying? That I’m just going to be a prisoner for the rest of my life because you’re too selfish to let me leave?” I shouted, my skin heating with the anger of my words. “That’s not a life I want to live, Mitchell!”

“You want to leave?” he bit out bitterly. “Want another brother to take care of you? That what you’re sayin’?”

No. “If you’re going to keep acting like this, then yes. Yes, I do. I can’t deal with everything with my dad and you not telling me the truth. Either let me in or let me go!”

“Fine!” His words shattered the fragile state my heart was already in. “I’m letting you go.”

My breath hitched, not expecting that answer. The tears fell faster as I watched him walk out of the door, slamming it behind him. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands as sobs wracked my body so hard, I thought I was going to choke on the force of them.

His heavy posture, the cold sweat, the sudden mood swings…

This wasn’t Mitchell… there was something wrong with him. He’d never give me up so easily, but he just snapped.

I stayed behind, willing him to walk back through the door but he never did. With a shaky hand, I picked up my phone, dialing a number I never thought I’d call, a number I had begrudgingly taken, never thinking I would use it. But no one else in my life would understand, and suddenly, I was thankful for this person and that they hadn’t given up on me.

“Hello?”

“Victoria?”

“Nyla?” Her concern was evident. “What’s wrong, beaut?”

“Mitchell.” Here came the waterworks I was trying so hard to contain. “Mitchell just freaked out and left.” I choked on a sob. “He told me he was letting me go.”

“Oh, honey,” she cooed sympathetically. “Pack up a few things; I’m coming to get you. Grim’s in a dangerous state of mind right now, but I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Dangerous state of mine was accurate; I’ve never seen him act like this before. “Thank you.”

I walked to the guest bedroom, seeing I only had a handful of clothes—only three days’ worth. I figured it’d be a good idea to take them all just in case. I walked over to my empty suitcase, filling it up with my pitiful outfits, heart cracking as I zipped up the luggage and walked out the front door of Mitchell’s home.

Possibly for the last time.

Victoria picked me up from Mitchell’s house, helping me into the car and taking me to her and Libby’s shared home. Libby was sitting on the couch when we arrived with a sympathetic look on her face as she stood when we got closer, hesitantly giving me a hug I didn’t know I needed. The short time I’ve known her, she’s made it her mission to avoid contact, but maybe she wasn’t as unkind as she projected herself to be.

I wanted to break down in the comfort of her arms, but I couldn’t. I felt too numb—too out of tune with what I needed to do. Instead, I bottled everything up, even though I knew it would come out sooner than later.

Libby led me to the couch while Victoria went to the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a steaming cup in her hands. Victoria handed me the hot tea, telling me that wine would only make the tangled mess in my mind knot even more. I wanted to argue, but I didn’t have the strength.

I didn’t have the strength to do anything but replay Mitchell’s parting words in my mind.

“What happened, honey?” The couch dipped beside me where Victoria sat. I stared at the cooling tea in my hands, thinking of the words to say.

“We went home after…” I couldn’t bring myself to say what I discovered in Uncle Rand’s basement, but I knew she and Libby already knew what happened. “He took us back to his place, and then our talk turned into a fight and he…” My throat was dry despite the tears filling my eyes. “He got mad and told me he was letting me go.”

I felt the comforting warmth from Victoria’s hand as she placed it on my back. “Isn’t that what you’ve wanted since the party? To get away from Mitchell?”

Yes. That was the truth. Since the day I was forced to stay at Mitchell’s house, I’d been begging—praying for an escape. The first chance of respite I found away from him… I discovered a truth I never thought was possible. The life I was living was on finite time until the people who were supposed to take care of me decided they got a good enough offer for me.

My skin paled. I thought I was going to be sick.

“It was,” I quietly confessed. “I should be happy… so why does it feel like my heart is shattering?” I turned to look at Victoria, her cobalt eyes empathetic to the pain I was feeling. “Why does it feel like I can’t go on without him?”

“You love him.”

My head snapped to Libby, who was looking at me with a slightly pitiful look. “No, I don’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “First thought when you wake up?”

My eyebrows scrunched. “Mitchell.”

“Last thing you think about before you go to sleep?”

I swallowed past the dry lump in my throat. “Mitchell.”

“First call when you were about to die?”

“Mitchell,” I whispered.

“Who can’t you picture your life without?”

I let out a shaky breath, not bothering to voice the answer they knew I was going to say. “I’m not supposed to love him. I can’t love him.”

“You don’t get to choose who you love.” Libby’s words were more like a silent confession. “Trust me, I know.”

“What do you feel when you’re with him, Nyla?” Victoria’s question took my attention away from Libby. But in the back of my mind, Libby’s story with the club was more complicated than it seemed.

I couldn’t describe what I felt like when I was with Mitchell. He made me so angry. Frustrated. Off-kilter. Satisfied. Protected.

Safe.

Mitchell made me feel safe.

“Oh my God.” I felt dizzy at the impact of my realization. All this animosity I felt for him, but he was the first person I went to when I was scared. He was the first thought when I woke up and the last thought before sleep. I missed him even when we were in the same room. He spent so much time trying to get me to hate him, but he did the exact opposite.

He made me fall in love with him.

“I love Mitchell.” I buried my face in my hands, a foreign feeling spreading to every nerve in my body, making me feel like I was weightless. “I love Mitchell.”

A comforting hand running up and down my back comforted me. “There’s no right or wrong way to love someone, Nyla.”

“I don’t know how it happened.” I was talking more to myself than them. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Follow your heart.” I looked up from my hands at Libby’s advice. I watched as she looked down at her left hand, and I was surprised to see a wedding band on her ring finger. Her right hand began to rotate the ring, her eyes farther away than her shared house with Victoria. “You hurt more than just you if you don’t.”

“But what about everything he’s done?”

“What about the good things the Souls have done?” Libby’s callous answer almost made me flinch. “Yeah, what they did was fucked up. But you know their reasonings, and what would’ve happened to you if Mitchell didn’t do what he did. I’m not saying forgive him, but if you can’t imagine a life without him, then don’t have a life without him.” It might’ve been the lighting, but I swore I saw a sheen in her blue eyes. “People do things to save others, even if it costs them themselves. You can either regret not fighting for your relationship and live a life of what-ifs and misery, or you can give him a chance to make up for what he’s done. Look at me!” She opened her arms, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m living proof of what regret can do for letting someone go just because of something bad they did. And now I’m miserable and alone, living with Victoria because the Souls are afraid I’ll kill myself.”

My breath hitched, eyes widening as Libby’s chest heaved with her confession.

“Lib,” Victoria comforted. “Hollow—”

“Don’t you dare say his fucking name,” she seethed, shooting up from her seat. “He left Victoria.” Libby couldn’t hold her tears in anymore. “He fucking left. Because of me.” Her eyes looked at me, pleading, “Don’t be like me, Nyla. Don’t let a horrible fucking decision keep you from a life you deserve. Don’t punish yourself for the mistakes of others, because in the end, the only one who loses is you.”

My eyes were watering, Libby’s disclosure and misery heartbreaking. She was so closed off, reserved to the point where I thought she was just unfriendly, but she wasn’t.

She was hurting for the man she lost.

What she said resonated within me. I didn’t forgive Mitchell, but I loved him. I didn’t want a life without him… I didn’t want to end up like Libby.

“What do you want to do?” Victoria asked cautiously. “Now’s your chance to get away from him. There might not be another one.”

I didn’t want another chance. I knew who I wanted.

“I want Mitchell.”

I knew she was grinning without looking, the dull atmosphere lighting up with the force of her smile. Even Libby was looking at me with a quirked a corner of her lip, her usually dull blue eyes having a spark in them.

“I think you’re making the right choice.” Victoria expressed, her tanned hand sliding on top of mine. “But give him a few days, when Grim’s in this state he’s… unpredictable.”

My lips pulled down. “What’s wrong with him?”

A sad smile spread on her lips. “It’s not for me to say.”

My emotions were high, impulses consuming me. I just wanted to go to Mitchell and shake him, demand him tell me what was wrong with him. But I knew Victoria was right, impulses could ruin your life.

And lately everything around me has crumpled to the ground. Everything except Mitchell.

I looked to Libby; eyes glued to the never straying from on her finger. Her speech the final boost I needed to work on forgiving Mitchell. I would rather regret giving Mitchell a second chance than not have him at all.

He was my strength; without him I was useless. Our jagged selves become entwined, pieces fitting together. Unable to operate correctly without the other nearby.

Everything was falling apart in my life; I wanted one good thing to stay.

Even if he was the one to ruin it.

CHAPTER 24

Mitchell

I  hated myself more than I ever did.

More than my sin, more than getting Nyla permanently involved in my life, knowing it was just going to end with her being in more pain. I wasn’t naïve; I saw her eyes when she looked at me.

Knowing I had a girl who had every reason to give up on me, but still stuck around… Yet here I was, with a needle in hand.

But I just threw her away like she meant nothing, even though she was everything.

I took off on my bike after our fight, riding and trying to clear my mind, but it always went back to one thing.

My next hit. So that’s exactly what I did.

Once the poison was in my veins and the high came crashing down, I realized what I did and how badly I fucked up.

My withdrawals had always caused me to have a short fuse, spewing shit I didn’t mean and regretted later. But this time, it had cost me Nyla.

I rushed back to my house where I left her to see she wasn’t there. I ran to the guest bedroom she was staying in, but her clothes were gone.

Along with my heart that she took with her.

I trashed the room in a fit of rage, and once I couldn’t ruin anything else, I stood there until the weight of my sins brought me to my knees. I lost Nyla, and it was all my fault.

That was three days ago, and I still didn’t know where she went. I made myself scarce with the club, and Prez was on my ass about my whereabouts. He knew what I was doing but not where I was. I knew Nyla was well taken care of wherever she was—I would’ve been told if she was missing.

Instead of being there comforting her, I was here on my bed, continuing to let my addiction control of me.

The familiar feel of the tourniquet wrapped around my arm, the anticipation already making me feel weightless. I sighed, the anticipation fueling me as I flicked the sharp needle, positioning it—

“Mitchell?”

I froze, hearing Nyla call my name. I wasn’t expecting her here. She shouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here. She couldn’t see me this weak, at the end of the rope, about to enter the damnation of temptation. But this was a situation I had no one else to blame but myself, and it looked like I was going to face the consequences of picking my sins over Nyla.

The corner of my lips turned up at the thought of Nyla ignoring yet another one of my warnings. What I felt for her in my chest was undeniable, but I shouldn’t feel for her what I did. I didn’t deserve it.

I wouldn’t be around long enough to appreciate it.

Her footsteps came closer to my bedroom, putting me in a trance. I tried to focus on her steps instead of pushing the needle into my arm. I knew the drug would make me uncaring toward my surroundings, or maybe it would affect me differently? I didn’t want to find out, especially around Nyla.

It had been twelve years since my overdose that led Darrell to me, and I was still as weak as I was back then.

The door to my room slowly opened, revealing the girl who made me want more in life than atoning for my sin. She gasped as soon as she saw me, horrified at what I was about to do to myself, not knowing that I’ve been doing it ever since we raided Leela’s basement. “Mitchell!”

My chuckle was humorless, feeling worse knowing I was the reason she had such a horrified look on her face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

“Put it down,” she begged with a trembling voice. “Please, Mitchell… put it down.”

I didn’t attempt to move; instead, I held the needle right over my vein, shamefully admitting, “I don’t think I can.”

I didn’t move. The devil on my shoulder was telling me we didn’t need her; that I just needed the needle, and it would make all my pain go away.

That Devil was wrong, I needed Nyla. Without her, I couldn’t breathe. She was better than any drug I could inject into my veins. So why was I still struggling with putting the needle down?

The sweat was beginning to drip down my forehead, my chest heaving with heavy breaths, trying to calm myself down but it wasn’t working. My vision was focused on the syringe and my mind on the high.

“Please, Mitchell,” she sobbed, her wails bringing me out of my trance slightly. “I need you. I need you more than you need that needle.”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat, looking between my arm and Nyla. My hand trembled with my indecision.

“I’m weak, Nyla.” My voice was just as weak as I felt. “I’m so weak… I told myself it would just be one hit. But one turned to two, and well… here I am.” Hoping this dose will kill me.

The only way to escape this sickness was death.

“We can get you help.” Her voice shook. “You stopped once, you can stop again.”

A sardonic breath left my lungs. “You don’t understand how hard it was to stop.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand. But if you think I’m giving up on you, think again. I’m your treasure, remember? You’re supposed to take care of me.” She choked on a sob. “And you can’t take care of me if you’re not here.”

Sweat dripped off me, my skin cooling as I fought the demons within myself. Nyla’s life would’ve been better without me, and the only reason she was still around was because she was forced, not because she actually wanted to be with me. That made me want to take the deep dive into nothing.

I never wanted to fall in love.

But I sure as fuck did, and I fell fucking hard.

She didn’t deserve anything that happened to her. She didn’t deserve to have the one act of kindness she showed me shoved in her face for something lesser, over and over again. Something was always happening with the club, and she was always caught in the middle. I wanted to regret meeting her, but I couldn’t.

The day at the graveyard, she was the sun shining down, casting a rainbow of hope on me for the first time since the day my mom and Mallory died.

Dropping the needle was harder than I wanted to admit, but as soon as I did, I rushed over to Nyla, pulling her shaking body into my arms, needing her to comfort and stitch my shattered pieces back together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“We can get through this together, right?” Her body shook with the force of her cries, even though she tried to remain strong for me. “Just you and me.”

“Just you and me.” I liked the sound of that.

But soon, it would be just her.

My head was in her lap, relishing in the comfort of Nyla running her fingers through my hair. It reminded me of the way my mom used to do this when I was sick as a kid. I lifted my arm, looking at the amber- and sapphire-infused gemstone on my bracelet. Nyla’s fingers rubbed the smooth material. It broke the dam in me to tell her something I’ve never told another living soul. “I was a fuck up.” My hushed confession felt like a weight was being lifted off my chest. “Fucked up everything I ever did or touched. The only people who didn’t think that were my mom and my sister, Mallory.”

Nyla stayed silent, continuing her motions, accompanied with a small smile on her face, encouraging me to continue. “I was always a wild child, and Mallory was the saint. Mom stayed at home, and Dad worked long hours. Typical family, I guess. Until I hit high school.” I took a deep breath, letting it expand my lungs to calm myself. What happened next was the spiral of the boy I once was becoming the man no one wanted to be.

“I cut class with a friend one day, and he told me about a place we could go chill and smoke a joint. Someone else was there, who had some harder stuff on him. Up until this point, I only smoked weed; I never even thought about doing hard stuff.” My voice cracked, remembering the rush of the feeling when I stuck the syringe in my arm that first time. How I never felt more free, more alive. “He gave us the first dose for free, knowing we’d be back for more. I barely went to school, let alone wanted to have a job. I dropped out of school and started stealing to get my next fix. I was in and out of jail, and Mom would post my bail if I promised to get clean.” Remorse washed over me for never keeping my word to her. “I always promised… but I never did.

“I pawned Mom’s jewelry and Dad’s tools, anything I could get my hands on for a quick buck. Dad lost his job; his boss was scared I would steal from them since I took everything from my parents and had no other family. We lost the car, the house, had to move into a one-bedroom apartment. At the time I didn’t care; I didn’t care about anyone but myself.

“Dad didn’t want me around anymore; he told me I could stay on the streets, but Mom refused. She enabled me, told me I was always welcomed there. She always gave me the last few dollars out of her pocket. They almost divorced because of me ,and if they did, she would’ve been on the streets because of me. I didn’t even think about that until after…” My throat was so dry, I almost choked when I tried to swallow. “After she was murdered.”

A gasp passed Nyla’s lips, her eyes wide with the shock of my confession. A dam broke free, my eyes watering at the memories of my mom and her unconditional love for her addict son who killed her. “Dad got another job within walking distance, but he bought a junk car for my mom to get groceries and things. He only had one rule: I wasn’t allowed to use it. She didn’t know how to say no to me, and she’d let me use it when he wasn’t there. One day, her and my sister won free tickets to a movie—the same night I had a party to go to. Mom let me use the car if I dropped them off and picked them up.” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the memory that haunted me daily. “It was the last time I ever saw them.”

Reliving your never-ending nightmare was exhausting, but talking about it just made it even worse. “I got high at the party and passed out, woke up to a literal kick in the teeth from my dad. The cops had to hold him back because he was yelling so loud. I couldn’t understand a word he said until an officer explained to me what had happened. But instead of mourning, I was thrown in jail. I couldn’t even go to their funeral… I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

Sympathy flooded Nyla’s features, her silver eyes looking at me with empathetic pain. “What happened to them?”

“Gunned down.” My throat instantly went dry. “Like they meant nothing. They meant everything to me, but I was just too self-absorbed to show them.”

Her fingers ran through my hair, trying her best to comfort me, but at this point, nothing would. “They knew.” No, Mom’s last thought was that she regretted me, and Mallory was scared… so, so scared. How does one get over that kind of terror they instilled on people they claimed to care about? Her fingers brushed the intricate swirl of amber and sapphire on the bracelet I always wore. “Does this bracelet represent them?”

My throat went dry as I nodded; it was on my wrist as a constant reminder of who I lost that day with my selfish choices. “It’s their birthstones mixed in one.”

“It’s beautiful, Mitchell.” Her comforting words did nothing to relieve the pain in my chest. “They would love that you got a keepsake for them.” I shook my head, confessing to her something not even Darrell knew.

“I’ve never even had the balls to visit their graves.” My voice was raw with the nightmare my life had been for the past decade. “I slept underneath the oak tree you found me at for years. I figured I couldn’t be there for them when it truly mattered, so the least I could do was watch over them then.”

“You slept in the graveyard?”

“Yeah.” It was what I deserved. “I couldn’t watch over them while they were alive, and I promised myself I would watch over their graves until I found their killer.”

A drop on my face took me out of my trance of bad memories, and when I looked up, I saw Nyla’s silver eyes blurry with tears. I reached up with one hand, using my thumb to try to stop the cascade of tears, but it wasn’t working. “Don’t cry for me, pretty girl. I’m not worth your tears.”

“You’re worth them and more,” she choked out, a sob breaking through as she did. “I hate that you’re still punishing yourself. You didn’t murder them, Mitchell.”

“If I hadn’t gotten high, they would still be here,” I reminded her, hating myself for reminding myself of the fact. “I didn’t pull the trigger, but I was the reason they were stranded.” My voice was barely audible as the memories of the harsh truth rushed through. “I’ll never forgive myself for abandoning them.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, her delicate fingers cupping my stubbled cheeks as she offered me a watery smile. “You don’t know if they’d still be here, Mitchell.”

I didn’t believe her. “It doesn’t matter if they were still here; I’ll be joining them soon.”

Nyla flinched as if I physically slapped her, her eyes growing wider than I’d ever seen. I didn’t think she was breathing as she looked at me with panic, her eyes silently asking what I meant. She wasn’t going to like my answer. “In our club, some of our sins final atonement is death.”

Her intake of breath was sharp as her watery eyes widened. “You mean, some of your brothers are going to die?”

A memory I locked away, never wanting to think about came to the surface, making my chest ache. “One of us already has.”

Her whole body tensed, asking a question she already knew the answer to. “How?”

“He took his own life.” I gave her a rueful smile, not liking that dark day or the aftereffects of it. “His sin was too great for him to bear, and he never finished atoning for it. We’ve never finished mourning for him, especially Libby.”

“How did it affect Libby?” If you looked at Libby, she just looked like an off-putting woman. She used to be anything but that. I missed the way she used to be… the way they used to be. “She’s so quiet, even quieter than Oakley. When all of us hangout, she’s just… there.”

I wasn’t surprised by that, death changed people. After his death, Libby snapped at anyone who got near her as a defense mechanism. If it wasn’t for Victoria getting in her face, telling her to knock her shit off or she was going to lose more than him if she kept it up, she calmed down. She kept the anger inside and chose self-destructive habits instead. “Dagger was her husband.”

“She still wears his ring on her finger.” She was very observant, but if only she knew the truth.

The ring she wore wasn’t from her husband… it was from another man.

“You never get over something like that.”

“None of your other brothers are going to do that, right?” I stayed silent, making her panic as my unspoken words were starting to sink in. “Right?” I still didn’t respond, making the message sink in even deeper. “Mitchell?”

“That’s the only way I can truly be saved,” I admitted to her. I didn’t expect her to understand, but it didn’t hurt my heart any less to see her eyes well up with more tears. She cried so many tears for me, and I was shocked she even had any left to shed.

“But why?” She was hysterical, and I knew she wouldn’t understand why I had to do what I thought was right. “You’re looking for their killer, and once you find them and take care of them, that should be enough to save your soul!”

“When I first started my mission for atonement, I always knew it was going to be the end result.” I laughed bitterly, looking at Nyla. Her beautiful eyes shone with tears for me that I didn’t deserve. The furrow of her brows, the way her pretty lips wobbled, trying to be strong. I smiled at her from my position on her lap, cupping her cheek. “Ever since I met you, for the first time I wished the outcome could be different.”

“It can be!” she pleaded. “Your mom and Mallory wouldn’t want this for you. They wouldn’t want you punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.” She gave into her tears. “I don’t want you to die.”

I sat up, putting my hands on her cheeks and my forehead planted against hers. I felt her tears transfer to my cheeks, or maybe they were my own. I smiled though, ignoring her words because it’s been twelve years since their deaths and no one’s made me feel like it wasn’t my fault yet. And no one, not even her, ever will. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have left together.”

“I want us to have a future.” Her wish was barely audible, but I felt it all the way in my heart. She gripped my wrists, holding them in place. Her words were powerful enough to shatter the organ I didn’t deserve to have into oblivion.

“I wish we could.”

“I love you.”

My chest burned. I wanted to say it to her back, but I didn’t have the courage. I was so weak in both body and soul, and she deserved someone who could love her in life, even though I’d always love her from the grave. Instead, I held her tighter, trying to relieve the pain I felt in my chest, but having her so close, knowing the end of us was much sooner than later. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

She sobbed in my arms, tears soaking the thin fabric of my shirt as I tried to keep my tears at bay, but I gave up the fight. I could be weak with Nyla. She was my safe place.

She was my home.

“Remember me?” My lips twinged with a small smile as I asked my constant question.

“I don’t know how to forget you, Mitchell.” Her hushed voice was full of anguish, already missing me even though I was still here.

“A part of you will be buried with me.” I gently pushed her back, pulling the hem of my shirt up, exposing the area above my heart I wanted her to see. Her choked sob let me know she saw it. “Brothers and I made a pact. When we met the person we were gonna spend the rest of our lives with, we’d get their first initial tattooed over our hearts.” I grabbed her small hand, tracing it over the raised skin of the ‘N’ over my heart. “And you’re mine, Nyla.”

Her cries became louder as she looked down at her permanent place on my body. I would be buried with a mark of hers. I wanted her to hate me so she didn’t mourn, but our hearts were traitorous—she couldn’t stop loving me, and I couldn’t push her away far enough for my love not to reach her.

“Why did you have to come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” Her barely audible voice brought a smile to my face, unable to stop the tear that rolled down my cheek.

“I’m a selfish man, pretty girl.” My lips pressed against the top of her head, relishing in the feel of my home. “Bein’ six feet under is gonna be a lot easier knowin’ you’re gonna miss me.”

“You turned from someone I wanted into someone I needed.” Her tears fell on my cheeks. “I need you, Mitchell.”

I arched my back, bringing my head up to meet her lips in a soft kiss—perhaps our last one. No words needed to be exchanged.

I tried to make her hate me, but I guess I failed at everything I did.

We just settled into the love we had for each other while it was still alive and burning.

But even in death, I would love her.

CHAPTER 25

Mitchell

I  woke up in the darkness of my room with Nyla securely by my side. It was the first night we’d slept in the same bed since before the party, but we had an unspoken agreement that we didn’t want to be parted right now. We were barely holding it together, drawing what little strength we had left from one another.

I knew she was awake, neither of us being able to sleep after our heavy conversation. There was more to be said, but right now I didn’t want to talk, I just wanted to feel her.

I sought her out, knowing every crevice of her body. My lips met hers, but our kiss was different than the usual one shared between us—this one felt more raw, more real.

More like love.

Her soft gasps fueled me as I pushed her top up over her head, trailing my lips down the column of her throat to her ample chest, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. My tongue traced over her nipple before blowing on it to create a chilling effect that I knew would drive her crazy.

I took my time moving lower, dipping my hand under the waistband of her pants as I slowly pulled them lower, exposing her to me. She spread her legs to give me more access, a silent plea for what she wanted me to do. I would indulge in her while I still could.

I buried my face between her legs, her moans encouraging me to continue as my tongue assaulted her most sensitive area. Her legs began to quiver over my shoulders, her core growing slicker the more my tongue ravished it. Any other time I would draw out multiple orgasms, but today wasn’t a normal day. I wanted us to finish together to instill what I felt for her.

I may not have been able to tell her I loved her, but I hope she felt how much I did.

I sat up on my knees, removing my cut and shirt before moving to my jeans, pushing them down my thighs before kicking them off and settling between her, positing myself at her opening. My forehead touched hers, our eyes connecting, never wanting to part from one another’s gaze.

Her intake of breath when I pushed inside her was my favorite melody, and the way her tight cunt gripped me was something I wanted to feel forever. I loved everything about this woman who was writhing in the pleasure I was giving her, from the way her nails dug into my back to the way she passed out after the third orgasm I forced out of her. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the love of another, and it took longer than I’d like to admit to realize that’s what I’ve been showing Nyla.

I felt the building of pressure, and my grunts came out more strangled, mixing with her low cries of pleasure while trying to match the wistful mood between us. My hand dipped between us, bringing her closer to the edge to make sure we both took the plunge together.

Our cries mixed as we both came, and still, no words were shared between us as I collapsed on her. I went to move my weight off her, but her hands slid up my back as the tips of her fingers applied light pressure, stopping me from doing so. I could easily break out of her hold, but instead, I buried my face into her neck as my hands slid around her back to hold her impossibly close. I loved the way she fit against me.

My body was relaxed, my mind focused solely on the woman below me, whose breaths had evened out, telling me she was finally asleep. A small smile tugged on my mouth, my lips pressing into her forehead before my eyes closed, hoping for my first sleep without a nightmare in over a decade.

But just like any other night, my prayers went unanswered.

“It’s your fault.” His words were like venom, struggling to break the hold of the two police officers who were struggling to hold him back. “It’s all your fucking fault!”

My brain was foggy, unable to focus on anything besides staying conscious. The officer by my side helped me stand, applying pressure to my mouth with gauze. I didn’t understand what he was doing until he pulled back slightly, and I saw the blood soaking into the cloth. How’d that happen? Then I remembered Dad kicked me in the face, knocking a tooth out, but the poison in my veins prevented me from feeling it.

“What’s goin’ on?” My words were slurred as my hands were placed behind my back and the cool metal of the cuffs encircled my wrists. “Dad?”

“I’m not your fuckin’ dad.” I understood those words clearly, the cruelty of them sobering me slightly. “You mean nothing to me.”

“Sir, calm down.”

“Calm down?” His voice was on the edge of hysteria. “My wife and daughter are dead! How the fuck am I supposed to calm down!”

I sobered up instantly. Mom and Mallory were dead? Why… How?

“Mitchell Walker, you’re under arrest for the possession of heroin.” I didn’t bother to listen as the officer read me my rights—I’ve been read those more times than I could count. My mind was only focused on one thing.

Mom and Mallory were dead.

And it was my fault.

I groaned, waking up from the nightmare that’s plagued me for twelve years. The feeling of a hand sliding up and down my back registered as my brain woke up some more.

“You were talking in your sleep.”

My brows furrowed. “What was I saying?”

“You kept repeating, ‘it’s my fault.’” Her comforting motions stopped, bringing her hands to my chest and pushing lightly. I immediately was off her, sitting cross-legged on the bed while she got up on her knees, covering herself with the sheet, smiling easily at me. “You told me you haven’t visited their graves since their deaths. Don’t you feel like you should, if not just for closure?”

The thought of facing them, even though they were six feet under, was intimidating. The position I put them in to be shot down like they meant nothing killed me inside. How was I supposed to show up like nothing had happened? Like I wasn’t the cause of their deaths.

“I’m not as strong as you.” I wasn’t, and I never would be. Nyla didn’t choose to face her new reality, she was forced. The way she was starting to accept things as they came was admirable—one of the things that made me fall for her more every day.

“You’re stronger.” I opened my mouth to protest, but the look on her face cut me off. “The sin you bare is heavy, but if you weren’t strong, you would’ve given up by now.”

“Vengeance is the only reason I’ve made it this long.” And you.

“Any reason to live is a good enough reason; we have to cling to that, no matter how sordid it is.” Her head tilted, showing the hope in her eyes. “I was forced to face my fears, and I think you should be forced to face yours, too.”

I froze, my body not moving despite my brain telling me to run. I couldn’t face them, and even in death, I couldn’t show my face to them, and especially not after my recent relapse. Prez was gonna make me go back to meetings.

It was for the best; just thinking of getting high was making my skin itch with need. My body broke out into a cold sweat, trying to think of anything but shoving a needle into my vein. I swallowed heavily, not liking the lengths I was going to avoid getting high when it was so much easier to give into the feeling.

But the woman in front of me was looking at me desperately, like she could read my thoughts and my needs. I wanted her and I wanted to get high… I just didn’t know which one I wanted more.

But I knew which one I needed more.

Nyla. It would always be Nyla.

“My strength comes from you, pretty girl.” My energy was sapped just thinking about what I was going to do. “I don’t know if I can do this, but I’ll try. For you.”

The smile she rewarded me would make this whole thing worth it…

Hopefully.

The moment I stepped into the graveyard with Nyla, I knew this was a mistake. I thought having her by my side would give me enough strength to follow through with my promise of visiting my mom and Mallory’s graves for the first time.

It didn’t help I was extremely irritated, something that happened when I quit cold turkey. I tried to rein in my anger, but I didn’t know how well I could manage it.

Especially when I saw who was there at their graves.

I cursed myself for getting so lost in Nyla recently. I should’ve been smart enough to know what day it was. I was just as stupid as I was back then. If he saw me, he would let me know it, too.

I slept underneath the oak tree six days a week, guarding my family’s graves, every day but Sundays.

Sundays were his days.

Ever since I met Nyla, I’d been slacking on my guard duty, and karma was now biting me in the ass, making me face him again. The only other person who could make me feel as much as Nyla…

Just in a very negative way.

“Mitchell?” Nyla asked from my side, her voice sounding far away, even though she was standing right next to me. “Are you ready?”

“I can’t,” I rasped, unable to take my eyes off the man who disowned me after everything happened. “We have to come back another day.”

“We agreed on this, remember?” Her words were gentle, but not comforting me in this moment. “The next day will never come if you keep delaying the inevitable.”

“You don’t understand, Nyla.” Cold sweat formed on my brow despite the warm temperature, my eyes unable to remove themselves from the figure standing in front of my family’s tombstone. “He’s there.”

She cocked her head. “Who?”

I didn’t answer her; instead, I grabbed her hand and turned us back to go to my bike—

“Just gonna ignore me, Mitchell?” I froze. Just the sound of his voice brought back all the painful memories I’ve tried but failed to bury. “Or are you to busy letting other people die?”

“Dad,” I croaked in a weak greeting.

Nyla turned, her eyes wide. “This is your dad?”

I wouldn’t say we were twins, but we looked alike. I had his facial structure as well as his hazel eyes. With age, his height shrunk, and instead of the dirty blond hair I got from Mom, he had a chestnut color that resembled Nyla’s.

“Unfortunately.” His words were like ice in my veins. “Though I don’t claim him as my son anymore.”

“How could you do something so cruel to your own son?”

The laugh that passed his lips proved he didn’t regret his decision to disown me. “Tough love. You can’t enable addicts. My wife and daughter are proof of what happens if you do.” His teeth clenched together, closing his eyes. “My sweet, sweet girl was collateral for your mistakes.”

Mallory’s face flashed across my mind. She was just a normal girl, excited about boys and getting her driver’s license. She’d made an appointment to get her permit for the week after she was murdered. I remember how she made me promise that after she got her license, I would let her know when I got… sick again. That she’d drive me around because I’d taken care of her my entire life, and now it was her turn.

That thought alone still choked me up to the point where I felt like I was suffocating.

“My only child died when Mallory did,” he replied calmly. “That mistake over there means nothing to me.”

I gritted my teeth. I didn’t care about my old man—I hated him my whole life—but hearing him say that still gutted me.

“Well, Mitchell,” she corrected, putting emphasis on my name, “is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I swallowed past the thick feeling in my throat hearing Nyla say that about me. I was the reason her life went to shit; I should be the worst thing that ever happened to her. But in light of recent events, it was for the best.

“I always thought blood meant everything, that you were supposed to listen to someone because they’re family. But some people see the same blood coursing through your veins and use that to manipulate you. Your son taught me it’s not about the blood; it’s about who wants to be there and who chooses to be there. Who supports you, even though they know you’re wrong, and who hugs you when you fail. That’s family.”

“You sure are dumb, arent’cha?” His mocking laugh filled my head, but it wasn’t directed at me. It was directed at Nyla. “Just wait until he sends you to your grave—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before my fist smashed against his teeth, knocking one out, causing blood to spill past his tight lips. “Don’t you fucking talk to her like that.”

He had the audacity to laugh, blood slightly sputtering. “Why couldn’t you defend your mother and Mallory like you’re defending her?” A sob choked him, but he was trying to keep it together. I couldn’t help but feel slight sympathy. He lost everything because of me. “They would still be here if you did.”

My heart was as heavy as I absorbed the truth of his words. “I know.”

“You don’t deserve to visit them after what you did.”

“I know.”

“When you were born, I had so much hope for you.” He stood, the hand that wasn’t over his mouth wiping his eyes in an attempt to hide his tears. “Sometimes being a parent is very disappointing.”

“I know—”

Smack!

A painful cry left my dad as he held the cheek Nyla just slapped. “Sometimes your kids feel the exact same way… disappointed in their parents for giving up on them when they don’t meet their expectations.” Nyla’s words flipped a switch inside me, something I’d buried deep.

Until now.

“You treated me like I meant nothing to you long before my addiction started.” The withdrawal symptoms I was feeling paired with the painful memories of seeing my old man’s face made the anger inside me burn to the point I thought my skin was on fire. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, and it’s something I’m going to live with for the rest of my life. Mom tried to help me, but I was too sick to listen. You made sure I knew my place was at the bottom, and I made sure I stayed there.”

“I didn’t put that needle in your arm.” He spat blood at me. “You did it yourself.”

“You’re right. I was weak and my choices rid me of everything I loved. I can’t take it back; I can only choose how I decide to move forward.” It would be a rocky ride, addiction and grief weren’t linear. “I joined a brotherhood to atone for my sins, saving others who are going down the same path I did. Addicts aren’t bad people; we just need help.”

“Your mother tried so hard to help you, but it wasn’t enough.” He looked down, blood dripping off his chin. “It was never enough.”

“Enabling and helping are two different things.” I loved my mother, she tried. She didn’t have any resources to help deal with a heroin addict as a son, and maybe if she did, then the outcome would’ve been different. It was a hard lesson I had to learn because, at the beginning, I thought Mom was helping me, but she was only hurting me and dragging herself down with me. It wasn’t her fault. “I’m not the man I want to be, but I’m better than I used to be, and that’s all that matters right now.” I looked to my side, grabbing Nyla’s hand for the last bit of strength I needed to put the nail in the coffin of my estranged relationship with my dad. “I forged a family built on mistakes like mine. I’m more than my mistakes; I’m fighting to survive. Every. Single. Day.”

“You don’t realize how amazing your son is, despite having a horrible father like you,” she spat at my old man, my chest tightening at her defending me. “You call yourself a parent? After constant abuse and narcissistic behavior? Mitchell and I are going to live for the future while you’re forever stuck in the past.”

“You can have him,” Dad spat at us, wiping the small trail off his face. “I didn’t want him then, and I sure as shit don’t want him now. I’m sure I’ll be seeing your death on the news very soon.”

I gnashed my teeth, withdrawal making me on the verge of killing him for even thinking that, but Nyla’s grip tightened on me. Silently telling me he wasn’t worth the bloodshed. I disagreed, but I focused on her touch rather the fact I wanted to snap my father’s neck. She wasn’t strong enough to drag me with her, but I went along with her, anyway. But, of course, my girl’s newfound sass had to get one last word in. “Have fun dying alone while your mistake is more loved than you will ever be.”

He just watched us go before I turned around, knowing it was the last time I would ever see him.

It was a liberating feeling.

“You have to stop punching people when they insult me.” She tried to lighten the mood, resting her cheek against my arm as we walked to my bike. If only she knew I took the breath out of someone’s body for flirting with her.

She knew I wasn’t in the right mindset to visit Mom and Mallory now, not after facing my dad. But I knew she’d make sure our tomorrow came, though.

“Is you smacking people for me going to become a common thing?” I teased, feeling lighter than I’d had in a while. I thought back to when I brought her back to the clubhouse and she punched Jordyn out of jealousy. This violent streak definitely seemed like repeated behavior. “Because that’s kinda hot if it is.”

“Just like you’re protective of me, I’m protective of you, too.” She gripped my arm tighter. “I’m trying to show you that I love you, that you’re worth so much more than you think you are. So, what better way than to smack your piece of shit father?”

I laughed, my heart feeling full. Being cared for by someone you loved was a liberating feeling.

A feeling that died when my mom and sister were lowered into the ground but was resurrected when Nyla came into my life.

CHAPTER 26

Nyla

“M itchell’s planning on killing himself.”

I could tell Darrell didn’t like the fact I barged into his office, but I didn’t care. If their rules weren’t strictly no killing women without probable cause, then I was sure I’d have a bullet in my head at this point. “Did he tell you?”

“Yes.”

He set the stack of papers he was reading down, taking his glasses off before giving me his undivided attention. “He must trust you if he told you that.”

My heart sank at his silent omission. “You know what he’s planning to do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

Rage like I never felt before flooded my veins. “And you were just going to let him? What kind of fucking man are you!”

If Darrell was surprised by my outburst, he did a good job hiding it. I assumed running a club of big burly men and dealing with ruthless criminals that a girl like me, who looked like she’d blow away with a gust of wind, wasn’t intimidating in comparison. “I would change the way you’re talking to me, Nyla.”

“How can I! How can I when—” I got choked up with what I was trying to say. Mitchell made me an emotional mess the past few days. “When you know someone’s going to end their life, yet you just sit there, waiting for it to happen.”

“Let me tell you something, little girl.” He stood, the same power he exuded the first day I saw him radiated off him, but unlike last time, my determination to sort out why he wasn’t doing anything about Mitchell’s mental struggles overtook any sense of fear I had. “I’m not letting it happen.”

I felt slight relief, my breath still coming out shakily. “So you’re going to stop him?”

His silence was enough of an answer for me, and let me tell you, I got enraged. President of a dangerous motorcycle club or not, his knowledge of something so serious and doing nothing about it left a sour taste in my mouth. “But why—”

“Let me set something straight. Mitchell is my closest friend. He’s struggled for so long, carrying the burden of his sin for so long, it’s finally breaking him down.” I understood Mitchell thought his mom and Mallory’s death were his fault, regardless of how many times I told him the opposite. “Let me ask you something, Nyla, and really think about what I’m saying.” I stood there, eagerly anticipating his question so I could throw it back in his face and tell him what an awful person he was for knowing someone he claimed to care about was going to end their life. “Have you ever been so weighed down by something, something so heavy, you felt like you’re drowning everyday but there’s no life jackets. No boat. No one coming to save you?”

I was trying to process his question, but it was already hitting deep in my heart. “You’re just stuck there. Reliving something that destroyed you once, but the memory destroys you every day? You’ve tried to call for help. You’ve tried to talk to someone, but as powerful as other’s words can be, your thoughts are so much stronger.”

With each word he spoke, it made me think about what Mitchell was going through from a different perspective. “People are just expected to be strong, but when you’re strong for too long without any support, people drown. Tell me, Nyla, have you ever been through something that’s made you feel this way?”

“My family.” I whispered that blasphemous term, afraid I would catch fire for even uttering that scum like them were my family. “The things I found out recently…” I tried not to think about Clarissa or any of the other women and children’s picture I found in that basement. Finding Clarissa in her state fueled my nightmares that Mitchell had to comfort me from. “They’re making me feel like I’m suffocating on air.”

“Some people think suicide is selfish, that the people who aren’t strong enough to continue don’t consider anyone else’s feelings but their own,” he explained further. “In reality, people didn’t consider their feelings until they’re gone.”

His words were powerful, leaving a profound effect on me. I tried to understand from his point of view, tried putting myself in Mitchell’s shoes, but all I saw was a world without him, leaving my heart shattered, the jagged pieces never able to fit together again. “I… I don’t want Mitchell to die.”

“I don’t, either.” His admittance surprised me, especially after his speech.

“He said his final step of atonement for his sin is giving his soul in return. Why does he say that?”

“Justification,” Darrell said simply. “It’s easier to place the blame on something when one doesn’t want to admit they need help. Mitchell struggles mentally with his past, feels like he can’t escape it, no matter what he does to make up for it. So, he blames it on his sin—all the brothers do. I’ve tried to get him help, Nyla. Don’t assume I don’t care, that I’m just going to let him end his life without a fight. You can’t force someone to get help if they don’t want it.”

I was lost. “But you just said—”

“I know what I said, but there’s a difference.” His tone was resolute. “All of us here are pinned at the bottom of the ocean with a rock, drowning. We can’t die for our sins; we have to live with them. That is a part of our atonement, saving other souls like ours until we are unable. Then we are cast into the bowels of hell, continuing our mission in the afterlife.”

I took in his words; Mitchell had told me something similar during our emotional chat last night. I don’t know what compelled me, but I blurted out, “He told me about Dagger.”

His eyes narrowed, and I immediately knew I had crossed a line. A flash of hurt crossed his features before he hissed, “He’s none of your fuckin’ business.”

I shut up, knowing I was already pushing my luck coming in here unexpected, and I didn’t want to make it any worse for myself. I turned toward the door. “Can you not tell Mitchell I was here?”

“I’m not gonna lie to him.” I should’ve expected as much. “You need to be watched at all times, Nyla. Vincent and the Bloods are out there waiting to retaliate at any given moment.”

I knew that. Mitchell was here at the club, being monitored by Hex for withdrawal symptoms. While he stayed, V was supposed to be watching Oakley and me in our apartment since we were given the greenlight to go back as long as someone from the club was with us. And while V didn’t necessarily volunteer, he just showed up and never left, and that was good enough for Darrell, much to Trevor’s chagrin.

But I just walked right out the front door, and V didn’t give a single care that I did—he was too busy watching Oakley bake. I felt bad watching her shake as she decorated a cake, even worse that I left her with someone like V, who she said scared her. But I had to confront Darrell about Mitchell.

I wasn’t satisfied with the conversation, but I knew it wasn’t going to go any further than this. So I turned on my heels and walked out his office door.

“Will you make sure he gets better?”

I’m glad I wasn’t above asking for help for Mitchell. I didn’t know how to help with his addiction besides supporting his recovery. I hoped Darrell would keep his word; I wanted Mitchell by my side for a long time.

“I made him get clean before, and I’ll make sure he does again.” His voice softened. “He has a good reason for sobriety now.”

I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thank you, Darrell.”

“Don’t thank me.” His voice steeled over once again. “He’s still got a long road to recovery, Nyla.”

I knew that. “I’ll be by his side every step of the way.”

“He’s gonna need you.”

I didn’t bother replying as I made my way out of his office door.

Not as much as I need him.

I walked down the sidewalk, relishing this mini freedom. I missed this, being by myself and enjoying the night air whisk against my skin. This serenity I had would be short-lived, and I was honestly surprised that Mitchell let me get this far by myself.

There was no doubt in my mind that Darrell was going to tell him I was there. I knew why Darrell didn’t care if I had a brother on me at the moment. My vulnerability could draw out Dad or the Bloods at any given time, even though I was supposed to be watched by a brother at all times until they caught my dad, who was MIA after Clarissa was rescued from Uncle Rand’s basement. And since V was at our apartment daily because of Oakley, I was under constant surveillance, even if all V’s attention went to Oakley or reading her stack of smutty novels, much to her dismay.

Mitchell wasn’t going to be happy with him, knowing he let me escape, and not only to the clubhouse. But one look at V told me he didn’t exactly care for anyone but himself. And now, apparently, Oakley.

My best friend cowered at his rough appearance, his long black hair, dark eyes, and black surgical mask. It was Oakley’s worst nightmare come to life, but V didn’t seem to care if he scared her. He just wanted to be around her. Which, I thought was sweet, despite him being terrifying, but my friend disagreed and wanted him to leave her alone.

I sighed. Another good thing about this mini venture was I finally got time to collect my thoughts about the way my life had been turned upside down lately. The people I loved the most turned out to be worse than the monsters under children’s beds. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that all those people who came in and out of Grandma’s house when I was a child were sold or murdered. I was hoping for the latter for their sakes because at least there would be the mercy of not having to live through unimaginable horror day in and day out.

They took advantage of people’s hardships and profited from them.

I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact I was going to be just like them, if not for Mitchell intervening in my life. I couldn’t believe the man I met at the graveyard on that dismal day would send my life into such a downward spiral, but he ended up saving my life.

My life before was work, school, and home on repeat. Always listening to everyone else but myself. I prided myself to be at my father’s every beck and call, my grandma’s dutiful granddaughter who took care of her until her dying breath.

And now the thought of my past life made me physically ill, knowing that their ulterior motives were to profit off the misery I was bound to find, courtesy of them. The backs of my eyes burned with unshed tears, thinking of my childhood with Dad and Grandma. The smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the kisses on my scrapes…

Did they ever think of me as a human? Or was I just a dollar sign to them? A tear slipped down my cheek. I was being groomed. Groomed by the people who were supposed to love me and take care of me. But now, there was someone else to take their place.

Mitchell.

He made sure he was a permanent fixture in my life after the blunder we faced a few days ago. At first, Mitchell made himself a constant, but after he revealed his traumas, I felt even more bonded with him. Like his pain melded with mine, making us each other’s biggest strength and biggest weakness. I would’ve changed the way he came into my life, but the discovery of how much my life was a scripted lie where I played the star of my own demise?

The thought made me ill.

Dad’s business… the one he spent my whole childhood building, was a drug and human trafficking ring. I couldn’t bring myself to think about all those poor souls who were affected underneath my nose. I wish I questioned it more when I was a kid. I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with me; I mean, why would someone just randomly hate an innocent child? I’d allowed my father to manipulate me, warping the way my mind worked from adolescent into adulthood. I thought what he showed me was love, but it was manipulation. I just was blind to it because I didn’t want to believe the truth.

Mitchell opened my eyes to how much of my life was a lie.

When he declared to my very disapproving father and uncle that he was my boyfriend, I felt irritated. The more time passed, the more time we spent together… I didn’t realize I was missing something.

I felt something in his every move, his every look. I couldn’t identify what he felt toward me. He irritated me, but his lips made everything feel as light as air. He fucked me like he hated me, but his words put me back together, and better than before. He’s intense, he’s manipulative.

A small part of me wished he loved me as much as I loved him.

The other part was afraid he would lie to me again.

It’s been over a month since the party incident, and Mitchell hasn’t outwardly apologized for it, and truthfully, I don’t think he was ever going to. Do I want an apology from him? He gave me his reasonings for what he’s done, the stories the women at the shelter told about him sounded like gospel. Besides the party, he’d done questionable things to me, but I knew it was because his goal was for me to hate him so it would be easier for when he…

I couldn’t fathom what he was planning to do to himself once he found his mother and sister’s murderer.

But how could he think I would be anything but devastated when he was gone?

I didn’t know anything about being in love. No amount of sappy movies or novels could prepare you for the real thing. I just knew the way I felt around him was becoming warped in a way that I didn’t know was a good or bad thing. I loved him. I told him I loved him, and even though I knew he didn’t believe me, I meant it. It didn’t mean I wasn’t scared of the heartbreak that was surely to come with actually being with him. Not only was he the vice president of a club full of the monsters parents told their children about, but the more I spent time with them, the more I knew that their looks and rumors were deceiving.

But I knew my love wasn’t enough to save him from the dark thoughts that plagued him.

I gripped the necklace around my neck, finding some strength in the metal.

I felt a tug on my cross-body purse, making me yelp in surprise as I was thrown off balance. My side hit the ground with a hard thud and pain exploded in my spine, making me hiss between my teeth. I tried to look at my attacker, but my vision was blurry as I tried to stand. He was a few inches taller than me and weighed at least a hundred pounds more than me. The smirk on his face was predatory, and the knife in his hand amplified my fear.

“Gimme your purse.” His voice was crazed, pupils dilated, waving his knife around in an uneven pattern. I knew he was under the influence of something, but maybe I could use that to my advantage. “I’m not afraid to hurt women.”

My lack of response didn’t go well as he growled, darting toward me much quicker than I thought he could move. I threw my hands at my attacker’s face, digging my thumbs into his eyeballs. He groaned in pain as he grasped any part of me he could—which happened to be the neckline of my shirt, which he promptly ripped. He began to step away from my hold, which made me think fast as I scratched my nails down the right side of his face. He gritted his teeth as he hissed, his seething breaths unnerved me just enough to give him the advantage.

He threw me to the ground again, my skin scraping against the pavement as he flipped me onto my back before straddling my hips. His wicked smile would surely fuel the nightmares I’d have if I survived this attack. “Big fucking mistake.”

I couldn’t catch a breath as his hands rounded my throat, thumbs applying pressure that cut my airway off. In a feeble attempt to remove his hold, I clawed at his hands, my movement amplified the lack of air and my vision darkened. As my eyelids began to close, I saw a bright light. In the center of that light was the man who, ever since I met him, my life turned into a downhill spiral. My attacker must’ve thought I was crazier than him, smiling despite having the life choked out of me. But he didn’t see the man who became the home I didn’t know I needed, the man who exposed my life for the lie it was, saving me in the process.

My only regret was not being able show him how grateful I was to have met him.

My eyes fully closed; at peace that my last thought would be of the man I had irrevocably fallen in love with.

And even though he didn’t tell me, I knew he loved me, too.

And that was enough for me.

I wasn’t expecting to be able to breathe a moment later, nor expecting to hear the sounds of heavy fists slapping against skin. I sucked in a breath, then another.

“Breathe, Nyla.” I looked up, seeing Darrell above me, focused on my face. “There you go, Keep at it.” I watched as his eyes scanned me, assessing my injuries before his gaze paused on my exposed neckline before widening. I watched his throat bob with the force of his swallow before looking me in the eye, like he was piecing something together. “Nyla?”

The sound of a head banging off the cement directed our attention toward Mitchell, who now had blood splattered on his skin. The crazed look in his eyes made him look more animal than human. I was mesmerized as he rammed the man’s head into the brick wall he had pushed me against just moments ago.

“Mitchell.” Saying his name was enough to make him pause, his crazed eyes drifting to mine. His pupils were dilated as his chest expanded rapidly. “Please stop.”

“You expect me to stop when he put his hands on you?” he growled at me, slamming the unconscious man into the brick for good measure. “He’s lucky he’s still barely fuckin’ breathing.”

My eyes watered. I knew it was his nature to defend me with his fists, but I didn’t need that. “I need you.”

Those three words made him drop the unmoving man to the ground, rushing over to me as Darrell stood, seemingly in a trance. I began to breathe easier with Mitchell near me. “That’s right, pretty girl. Small breaths, you can do it.” I took short, shallow breaths, getting deeper each time as I looked up at the man I thought about when I was surely dying. He didn’t touch me like I wanted him to, but I figured he was being cautious of getting the man’s blood on me. Mitchell probably didn’t know the man’s skin was underneath my fingernails. “Good girl.”

“Gonna take you back to your place and get ya cleaned up.” Mitchell looked over at Darrell, who was still looking at me in a daze. Mitchell furrowed his brows in worry. “Prez?”

Darrell was still in his daze, his eyes focused on the chain around my neck. I clutched it as tight as I could in my weakened state when I felt Mitchell lift me off the pavement, hands under my shoulders and knees. I instantly felt safe in his arms.

As my conscious lulled, one thought made me feel safe.

Mitchell’s here.

I groaned, my head pounding against my skull as I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry, but I noticed I wasn’t in the safety of my apartment, but in the living room of Mitchell’s home. Turning my head, I saw Darrel, who was hunched over on the recliner, his head buried in his hands. He looked distressed, more so than when I saw him earlier.

“Nyla?”

My head shot to Mitchell, who noticed I was awake as he walked over to me, kneeling and running his fingers through my hair in a comforting motion. “How’re you feelin’, pretty girl?”

“My head hurts,” I whimpered, my skull still feeling like it was going to break out of my skin.

I felt his lips on my forehead, relieving some of the pain, if only mentally. “I’ll go get you some medicine. I’ll be right back.”

As Mitchell walked out of the room to get the medicine he promised, I thought about how lucky I was that he hadn’t yelled at me for not listening to him. He could have easily told me I told you so, but he hadn’t. With each day that passed, we were getting closer to what we were before the party. I closed my eyes, both trying to relieve the pain and the fact that Mitchell wasn’t planning on having a long life with me, no matter what I tried.

“Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

I squeezed my eyes together, trying to keep my tears at bay in front of Darrell.

“Do you have the note, too?”

Darrell’s voice was so quiet, I barely heard his question. I opened my eyes, watching him as his forehead was still resting on his joined hands. “What?”

Slowly, he looked up at me, recognition and remorse present in his features, confusing me even more. He nodded toward my necklace as he asked, “Do you have the note, too?”

I blinked. There was only one note that mattered to me, and I couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know about my note?”

“Because I wrote it for you twenty-two years ago.”

I felt the air get sucked out of my lungs, the room stilling around us. I felt my mouth go dry under the weight of Darrell’s stare.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Moment I saw you, thought you had an uncanny resemblance to her. Chalked it up as people having doppelgängers all ‘round this world. Didn’t think nothin’ of it, but still watched out for you.”

I was even more confused. “Resemblance to who?”

“Courtney.”

“Who’s Courtney?”

“Your mother.”

I shook my head, not understanding where he was going with this. “I never knew my mom. She left me on my dad’s doorstep because she didn’t want me.”

He barked out a laugh. “Furthest from the truth.”

“How do you know? You don’t have proof,” I challenged him. “Vincent Brooks is my father.”

“Adoptive father,” he corrected.

“Oh?” I was getting tired of this turnabout game he was playing with me. “If he’s my adoptive father, then who’s my real father?”

“Me.”

I blanched at his words, studying his face to find any sign of a lie. I began to laugh, not thinking his joke was funny, but because there was absolutely no way it could be true. The more I laughed, the more he didn’t react, and that knocked the smile right off my face.

He wasn’t joking.

“Prove it.” Hysteria rose in my throat at his ridiculous truth. “Prove to me you’re my biological father.”

“We love you forever, sweetheart,” he recited the words on my note perfectly. “That’s what the note you have says. Has a little heart in the top right corner. It’s a note your mother and I left you when we…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

My laugh was slightly unhinged. “When you, what? Gave me up? Let me be adopted by a man who was running a human trafficking ring?”

He didn’t respond verbally; instead, he reached under the neckline of his black Henley and pulled something out. All the breath rushed out of me as I saw the chain with the same silver band as mine resting on it. I remember it from the clubhouse interrogation, but I was too preoccupied to notice it matched my own.

“I always wondered who got the privilege of raising you.” Darrell spoke in a voice that sounded worlds away, his forehead wrinkling with regret. “I wish it was to a better man.”

“I still don’t believe you.” How can I? It was going to take more than reciting a note to tell me the criminal who raised me wasn’t my father.

“I can set up a blood test with Hex if that’s what you want.” He was so serious, I considered believing him. “Too much coincidences linin’ up for you not to be my daughter, Nyla. The necklace, the note, the fact you’re an exact replica of Courtney…” I stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to his lunacy. “A day’s never gone by when I haven’t thought about you, ya know.”

I didn’t know what to say, I was so overwhelmed with the emotions I was feeling. I wanted Mitchell here since he usually kept me grounded. What was taking him so long?

I clutched the necklace around my neck, trying to gain some strength from it—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Darrell. “Gotcha that necklace the day you were born. Someone owed me a favor, so they laser-cut your birthday into the band.” He paused and then added for extra measure, “March twenty-second, two thousand. The best day of my life.”

A sharp intake of breath. There was no way he could’ve known the date on the necklace. “What else is engraved on the band?”

“Moore. My last name,” he said without hesitation as I watched as his eyes began to shine before he corrected himself, “Our last name.”

“My last name is Brooks,” I whispered, but it felt so wrong to say, especially finding out the truth about my dad. Could I even call him my dad anymore? Do I even want to? He’s a horrible person, who manipulated me with lies and false stability. I felt my eyes burn. There was no way for Darrell to know what was on the necklace unless it was the truth.

Darrell was my father.

My whole life was a lie.

“So that’s your sin, Prez.” Mitchell walked in, obviously unashamed of his eavesdropping. “Always been tight-lipped about your past. Can see why now.”

Darrell’s gaze hardened. “Not somethin’ I like to discuss.”

Mitchell scoffed, “Abandoning a kid is some hardcore shit.”

“You don’t understand a fuckin’ thing, Grim,” Darrell hissed and stood, getting in Mitchell’s face. “I don’t wish this for you, but I can only hope that if you’re faced with the decision to let the most important thing in your life go because they’d be better off without you…? Well, I can only hope you’re strong enough to do it.”

Mitchell looked at me from the corner of his eye, making my heart beat faster in my chest as he admitted, “Never gonna be strong enough for that, Prez.”

I gulped at the weight of Mitchell’s words.

“Most men aren’t.” Darrell reined in his anger, taking a step back from Mitchell. “My decision damn near killed me.”

The silent tension hung in the room, and I wasn’t sure what to do besides ask the question that was weighing on my mind. “How come you didn’t want me?”

“It was never about me not wanting you. I wanted to be your father… so fuckin’ bad.” I could see the anguish in his eyes. He was fighting with himself to gather the words I knew would shatter us both. “Are you ready to hear the full truth?”

I turned to Mitchell, looking to him in hopes I could get some relief from the anxiety prickling through every nerve in my body. Even though he gave me a reassuring smile as he placed his hand on top of mine, even he couldn’t stop my racing heart. “I’m ready.”

“I’m not a good person, never had been. It’s something God will never let me be.” He started his story, his eyes glossing over as he got lost in his memories. “Didn’t finish school, dropped out in ninth grade. Druggie, addict, loser, you name it, I was called it. Only person I had left in this world after my parents dumped me off was Volt.”

“Who’s Volt?”

“My best friend… old best friend. Our parents weren’t worth nothin’, barely met our basic needs. We’d do what we could to survive. Our bond was strong based on our survival instinct alone, but we were brothers.” The corner of his lips turned up in a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Met Courtney in our shabby neighborhood in the drug house when I was fifteen. The three of us became inseparable, especially me and Courtney. We were off and on for a few years, until she got pregnant at seventeen.”

He paused, breathing deeply as if the hardest part was yet to come. “Barely had a dime, but still managed to get a doctor to check ya out. Swore I fell in love for the first time when I saw you on that sonogram.” I could tell he was getting more emotional with each word he spoke as his voice thickened. “Kept that thing with me twenty-four-seven. You were my reason for getting clean. I really did want to be your father.” He looked up at the ceiling.

My face scrunched up. He wanted to be my dad, but then what? Decided once I was born that he didn’t want me? I thought parents fell in love with their children more once they were in the world. Darrell noticed my expression and backtracked.

“Courtney and I decided to be exclusive when we found out about you. I went cold turkey on the needle and got a job to provide for us.” He let out a shaky breath. “Biggest mistake of my life was assuming she would get clean, too.”

My stomach dropped. He didn’t mean what I thought he did, did he?

“When you were born… you came out not breathin’. Scariest moment of my life.” His eyes looked haunted as he retold the tale. “Nurses immediately rushed off with you, and we went hours not knowin’ whether you were gonna live or die. Longest hours of my life. When the doctors came back, it took everythin’ in me to not kill Courtney.”

“What happened?” Deep in my bones, I already knew; I was just hoping by some miracle I was wrong.

“She’d been doin’ heroin throughout her pregnancy. I was always workin’, and when I came home, she was asleep, but I assumed she was just more tired being pregnant and all. Didn’t know what else she did. Volt kept an eye on her for me and told me everything was okay, and I believed him—didn’t have a reason not to.” The shine was back in his eyes. “You were born three months early, going through heroin withdrawal. Watching you go through that would break the strongest man and damn, if it didn’t almost break me. The only reason it didn’t was because I had to be strong for you. They only gave you a forty percent chance of livin’.” He shook his head. “I should’ve done more. Fuckin’ hate myself every day for that.”

It was a miracle I didn’t have any major birth defects. “What happened next?”

“Long weeks of watching you sober up. Couldn’t hold you, could only look at you from the glass in the hallway.” He rubbed his face. “Child Protective Services got involved. They had a deal with Courtney; she was allowed to see you if she did their outpatient rehab program.” I looked at him, anticipation prickling my skin as his sad eyes met mine. “She didn’t.”

My heart dropped that my biological mother chose drugs over me. “What about you? Were you allowed to see me?”

“I had sole custody of you at that point. Courtney split as soon as she could… I still dunno where she went. I visited you every day, quit my job. Lost the apartment, slept outside the hospital just to be close to you in case something happened.” His eyes were far away again. “Got to thinkin’. I was homeless, and you were sick. Courtney was sick in a different way, but she didn’t want help for herself or for the life we tried to build for you. I couldn’t give you a fuckin’ thing. Didn’t have a damn thing you needed because I had to sell everything I bought ya. I thought if you survived, where was I goin’ to take you? Where would you sleep? Eat? Wear? I had nothing.” His eyes shut, nostrils flared as he tried to rid the shame he felt. “That’s when I knew I had to do something I promised I would never do to my own kin… something my parents did to me.”

“You gave me up,” I finished for him.

He nodded. “I gave you up.”

I rubbed my arms. “So, you just stopped visiting me?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “At that point, you were around a month old—still on the long road to recovery—and I had to watch you grow through a fuckin’ window,” he explained through gritted teeth. “I talked to social services, explained the shithole situation I was in. Hurt my pride, but you were more important than that shit. They were understanding; actually, they were super helpful in the process. I wrote that note, got you that necklace, and they gave me their word that they’d send it with you when you were… adopted. Even after I signed my rights away, I watched you for twelve hours a day, day after day, through that sheet of glass until one day…” My heart actually broke for him. The agony in his dark eyes, the way his chin wobbled with regret. I knew he was fighting his demons right in front of us. “You weren’t there anymore.”

I couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt. “I rose some hell, ain’t gonna lie. I wanted to know where you were. Will never forget the social worker telling me she couldn’t tell me where you were.

“After you were gone, I sat in the hospital waiting room during visiting hours for a week until I accepted the reality that you weren’t coming back. Then, my life went to shit again—benders, booze, drugs, women. Anything to dull the pain that you were adopted and were no longer legally mine.” He looked at me with shining eyes. “You may not legally be my daughter, but you’ll always be my little girl.”

I bit my lip, willing my tears to stay at bay.

“That’s why you made the club?” Mitchell spoke up, hand still grasping mine tightly. “Because of Nyla?”

Darrell was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Woke up after a night of partying all beat up, half-naked, and in a ditch with a stab wound in my side. I had no clue what the fuck happened. A car pulled over, and they called the ambulance. Stayed at the hospital for a few days. Turned out, the person who pulled over was actually a priest. He preached to me, asked me if my life was goin’ the way I wanted. I laughed in the fucker’s face. He gave me his card, and while I never called him, I’ll never forget what it said: ‘God can save you’.

“Was thinkin’ that I needed saved, but the way I wanted saved was a bullet in head.” He laughed sardonically. “Most days I still wish I was six feet under. But when I wanted to give up, thoughts of you kept me goin’. Before I died, the last thing I would do was see you again… see the woman you became without me. Hoping that my greatest sin was worth it, knowing you grew up happy and loved.”

“What happened to Volt?” Mitchell questioned.

Darrell shrugged, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “He took off during Courtney’s pregnancy. I think he always had a thing for Courtney, was jealous I got to her first. Haven’t seen the bastard since.”

I wiped my hands, trying to stop the endless flow of tears, but I didn’t think they’d stop anytime soon. So much had happened recently, and I was having a hard time keeping up with my emotions, let alone understand how to process them. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

I looked at Darrell, who was looking at me with a mixture of affection, relief, and grief. He did what he thought was best for me, so I shouldn’t feel abandoned by him, but I did. That damage a person, especially if the person who didn’t want you was your own father. “I want to be a part of your life, Nyla… if you’d let me.”

“I… I need time.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be here from now on.” His voice cracked as he stood, taking something out of his pocket before placing it on the table. “I couldn’t give you a good life, Nyla. You deserved the best.” His eyes glistened as he looked back at me. “And the best wasn’t me.”

He walked out the door without looking back, leaving us to deal with the devastation of the truth of my life. Up until my discovery in Grandma’s basement, I had the best life. A life anyone would be jealous of, full of love, light, and laughter. But all the lies were unfolding like a sheet of paper, and now the light was wildfire, burning up everything I thought I knew. My eyes sought out the picture on the table, shakily reaching for it before getting a good look.

My breath caught in my throat as tears pricked my eyes.

It was the sonogram picture—the one he said he never let go of. My fingers brushed the blurred image and the tears overflowed from my eyes and down my cheeks.

“It’s me,” I whispered.

Mitchell nodded beside me. “It is.”

“I’m having a hard time processing this.” I set the picture down on the table before turning to him. “He’s telling the truth?”

“Prez isn’t a lyin’ man.”

“He’s my father.”

“It seems that way.”

“My whole life has been a lie.”

He was silent.

I began to sob.

Mitchell pulled me to him, placing his hand on the back of my head, nudging my head to rest against his chest. The force of my cries rocked my whole body as tears drenched Mitchell’s T-shirt.

“I got you, Nyla,” he whispered into my hair. He held me tight as my sobs made my body shake. “I got you.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” I was letting the anguish I was feeling at my life falling apart take over me, but I just needed to hear the words that everything would be okay.

“I’ll fuck anyone up and anyone over just to see your smile again,” Mitchell said in a voice so fierce, I had no doubt he’d do whatever it took to make sure my life would be better. “I’d do anything for you, Nyla.”

For the first time in a long time, I believed him.

CHAPTER 27

Mitchell

T he rain pattered on the windowsill as my heart ached, watching Nyla rest her head again the cool glass, the rain resonating with how she felt inside.

Confused. Sad. Alone, even though I was here with her, holding her as she cried in her sleep for a past she didn’t deserve to live. For a future that had so many unknowns. This was the first time in four days that she’s gotten out of bed, and that was because I carried her to the nook in the window, hoping that getting her out of bed would help her, even just a little.

My phone buzzed against the counter as I sipped my coffee, already knowing who was calling. He called and texted multiple times a day checking in, wanting to know how she was but wanting to give her space, making me the middleman.

I set my mug down, pressing the answer button before putting my phone to my ear. “Hey, Prez.”

“How is she?” This is the first question he asked in our recent conversations. No hello, just straight to how Nyla was feeling.

My gaze shifted to Nyla, who was sitting in the nook of the window, forearms resting on her raised knees as she looked out the window, her mood dripping like the rain off the tree in my backyard.

My lips twisted ruefully before I answered him, “Dunno.” I hated that was the truth. I usually read Nyla better than she knew herself. The past few days after the truth came out, she’s barely moved, refusing to eat or talk to me. Today I forced her to get out of bed, even if that required me carrying her to where she was currently sitting on the nook, trying to ignore her new reality. “Hasn’t talked to me. Forced her to get out of bed today.”

Darrell’s sigh on the other line was long. “Hate how this is fuckin’ affectin’ her.”

“What did you expect?” I snapped. I didn’t want to be a dick to Darrell since I knew he was struggling too, but Nyla came first. Watching the way she’d been the past few days, my anger was at the surface ready to unleash on somebody. “The people she looked up to her whole life sold people for profit, and she was gonna be their next cash grab. Finding out she’s adopted is the least of her worries, Prez.”

I heard rumblings that resembled a growl on the other line. The thought of that happening to Nyla made the red seep into my vision, and I didn’t know if it would ever go away. But as much as I wanted to lose my shit, I knew she needed me to be the steady one while she navigated her feelings.

“I know,” he said, his voice rough for a reason I could only assume but not prove. “Fuckin’ hard to stay away from her knowin’ the truth. I’ve been wondering about her for over twenty years, Grim. Now that she’s in my life, all the shit we’ve done to her since she’s gotten here…” I could hear the regret in his voice, it matched my own when my attempts to make Nyla hate me made her fall in love with me. “She’s never gonna fuckin’ want me in her life.”

The misery in his voice wasn’t something I’d ever heard before. Darrell, a hardass man who’d killed for less than looking at him the way wrong, was torn up over the prospect of Nyla not wanting to be in his life. “You gotta give her time, Prez. This shit’s all new to her. So much had happened in such a short period of time. She’ll come around.” I dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand, not liking the alternative. “And even if she doesn’t, it’s her choice.”

His sigh through the receiver was raspy, “I know. I’ll check back in tomorrow. If something, and I mean anything, happens, let me know.” A pause. “Please.”

Never thought I’d hear the president of the Unforgiven Souls beg.

“You know I will, Prez. Take care of yourself too, yeah?”

A chuckle indicated he wasn’t going to do that. “Talk to you later, Grim.”

I put my phone on the counter and debated on what to do. Right now, we were at a stalemate while Nyla considered what her life had become and what choices she faced in the upcoming days.

I told her before there was a whole war we had to face together, and now we were on the brink of it.

I made my way out of the kitchen, heading to where she perched on the window nook. She didn’t look at me, but she knew I was there. I crouched when I reached her, but she didn’t move her eyes from the rain as she spoke to me.

“What should I do, Mitchell?” Monotone, almost robotic-like voice that didn’t sound like my Nyla escaped her lips.

“There’s no right or wrong way to do this, Nyla… but I’m bias toward you giving Darrell a chance.” He was my best friend; one whose sin came back to hit him, and now he had to face the ramifications of it. “The way he acted toward you the day shit went down… I’ve never seen him act that way before. Never saw him look so damn remorseful and hopeful at once. He runs a club full of men with their own issues, carrying all our sins on his back. It made him a hard man who needs to make the tough decisions because whether the bastard will admit it or not, he doesn’t want us to suffer more than we already have.” I looked at the ground. “So, he just suffers more.”

“What if I’m not a good daughter?” Her hushed confession had me snapping my head back up at her.

“You’re the best.” I reached up to palm her wet cheek to force her to look at me. “You just got stuck with people who didn’t appreciate you the way they should’ve, but now you’re with people who will.”

Her head turned, cheek resting on the top of her knee as she looked at me. “Every time I think of my childhood, I think of how stupid I am for allowing it to happen.”

“It’s not your fault.” I told her, grabbing her hands from her knees and bringing them to my chest. “Grooming and manipulation can warp your mind. It almost got you, but it didn’t. You just had to see how the real world worked, not Vincent’s version of what he wanted you to know.”

“But all those women and children—"

“Stop.” That was hard to navigate through, but Nyla wasn’t at fault. She was an innocent child brought in a world no one deserved to be in. “Whether they went home with Leela, the result of their future would be the same. Once they’re marked, their future was no longer theirs.”

“My life was never mine.” Her admission was a painful truth. “My future isn’t either.”

“You belong with me.” My voice was strong like solid steel. “And I’ll never let you fall again, Nyla.”

She looked at me with a faraway work, silently reminding me of my own plans for myself. The finite time between us causing my heart to stir with guilt. I wasn’t leavin’ until Vincent was nothing but ash.

“Vincent’s horrible.” Her teeth clenched together as her eyes closed. Her anger showing, which was a good sign. Anger meant she was processing, even if it was only slightly. “I hated that I ever looked up to him. I hated that I loved him.”

“You didn’t know the truth.” My voice was gentle, comforting. Her eyes slamming shut, trembling as she already knew what would’ve happened if she discovered the truth earlier than she was supposed to. “If you did, you would’ve ended up just like them before I found you.”

She breathed in deeply, new tears forming, even though she was trying her best not to let them fall. But when I wrapped my arms around her, she lost the fight. Her tears soaked the fabric of my shirt, skin soaking in the despair she was feeling. I hoped it took some of the burden of her pain away.

The truth will set you free.

Nyla’s truths ruined her life. But I’d be here to piece back the scattered pieces of the splintered edges it’s left her with.

“What do you need?” I asked, burying my face in the crown of her head.

“Just hold me…” she cried. “Just hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.”

“It’s going to be okay, pretty girl.” My fingers ran through her chestnut hair, a motion that calmed her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You’re never going to end up like Clarissa.

CHAPTER 28

Nyla

A  week had passed since Darrell told me my life had been a lie, that nothing I knew was real and I shouldn’t trust anything prior to meeting Mitchell. But I needed answers about who I was.

I inhaled, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling, letting some of my stress dissipate. I brough my knuckles to the door, knocking lightly.

“Come in.” His voice was muffled as I stiffly grabbed the doorknob, opening the door to Darrell’s office. He had a steaming mug of coffee with the MC’s logo by him, looking older than when I saw him just days before.

He looked up from the paperwork he was doing, eyes widening when he saw me. “Nyla,” he breathed with relief.

. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night the truth came out. He told me he was my biological father, making the man who adopted me a thing of nightmares—not only for me, but for the thousands of lives he had impacted. I couldn’t help but feel relieved that I wasn’t actually related to him, but he raised me. But, why? I doubted it was out of the kindness of his heart; he had to have some ulterior motive. I felt sick to my stomach at that thought.

I tried not to think about it, but it consumed me.

“Hey.”

“Please have a seat.” He motioned to the empty chairs in front of his desk that was littered with papers. “How have you been?”

I couldn’t put into words how I’ve been. I’ve been depressed, confused, angry, cursing God for playing with my life. There was only so much a person could handle, and if I got one more trial, I was going to curl up in a ball and let the world swallow me hole. “Exhausted.”

That wasn’t a lie, my bloodshot eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them confirmed it. “After everything you’ve had thrown at you lately, it’s a miracle you’re standing.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Hell, I could barely get out of bed most days. Lately Mitchell’s literally had to carry me because I lacked the strength—and honestly, the desire—to get out and face this shitty world. “I came here to talk to you.”

“I was hoping you would.” He leaned his forearms on his desk, eager to start our conversation. While I’ve been wallowing in my own misery, Darrell’s been waiting by the phone until I decided talk to him.

“I thought a lot about your story, about why you gave me up.” Truly, I did. I overanalyzed every facet of his words, trying to come up with logical facts to help me decide what I should do, but the facts didn’t outweigh my feelings. I was tired of relying on others, even analytics, to decide what I should feel about certain things. “You were struggling yourself, not knowing where your next meal would come from or where you were going to sleep.”

He stayed silent, letting me reiterate the story he told me. I wasn’t used to this; Vincent would’ve told me to shut up and do his bidding. He never listened, he never cared. The simplicity of being heard meant so much to me. “You tried, but you could only do so much when you weren’t in control of birthing me. And you had to rely on others who let you down. And I know that feeling all too well, when everyone around you feels more like an enemy than an ally.”

I sucked in a breath. I was surprised I had more tears to shed with all the crying I’ve been doing lately—the pity parties have been never ending lately. “At first, I hated you. Hated all of you. I was going to rat you out to Vincent but instead, I found out the truth behind my entire existence. And what would’ve happened to me if I never shielded Mitchell from the rain in the graveyard. I’m not ready to forgive everything just yet, but I understand why you did it. I was just an unfortunate casualty in your guy’s pursuit to help others.”

My grip tightened on my sweatpants, looking up at Darrell with determination.

“But I want to…” I looked down again, trying to find the words I’d rehearsed in my head but couldn’t say now. My anger and bitterness were consuming me in a way I never experienced, and if I didn’t try to absolve those feelings, I would lose myself… and that was the only constant I had. “I want to try to be your daughter.”

“You don’t have to try.” His words were fierce. “You are my daughter.”

Another tear fell, dripping off my chin and leaving a tear spot on my gray sweatpants. Vincent always made me do things for praise, but with Darrell, I didn’t even have to try.

“Despite me not raising you, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I’ve loved you from the moment Courtney told me she was pregnant with you, Nyla.” He inhaled a raspy breath full of regret. “I wish I paid attention to Courtney more during her pregnancy. That’s something I’ll regret every day of my life.”

“You didn’t know.” I comforted him.

“I should’ve known.” His words were absolute, leaving no room to argue. “None of this would’ve happened.”

“That may be true, but then there wouldn’t be the Souls. All the members would be dead or in prison…” My mind went to Mitchell, the image of his vulnerability under the dim light on our first date. “I wouldn’t have met Mitchell.”

“You love him.”

I looked at him, noting the dark circles from lack of sleep under his dark eyes. The wrinkles showed his age and the stress of the world crinkled at the corners. He looked every bit of his almost forty years right now. “I do.”

The corner of his right lip crept up, his face looking lighter. “And I know he loves you.”

“Not enough,” I blurted out, my mind going back to the conversation between Mitchell and me that I refused to share. How he decided he had less years on this earth than he could count on one hand. It was always in the dark corner of my mind, lurking, waiting to bring me down even lower than I already felt on my darkest days.

“Our demons have a chokehold on us, sweetheart.” His eyes matched his sympathetic tone. “Mitchell’s starting outpatient rehab soon, he’s being monitored by Hex for any lingering withdrawal symptoms. He’s making progress.”

And he was taking the steps to get better after his relapse, but that wasn’t a cure-all and it never would be. I didn’t understand the power of addiction, but the little I saw Mitchell go through… My heart went out for all those who were possessed by that demon.

I didn’t know what to say, and the stillness lingered between us, threatening to swallow us whole until Darrell broke the silence.

“You asked me why I didn’t have a road name like the other brothers.” I remember the first days with Darrell, a sharp contrast to how he was treating me now. “We’re known by our road names, but I decided not to have one.” His eyes shone with emotion. “I wanted to be known as Darrell in case you came lookin’ for me.”

That was a sweet sentiment. I remembered the women and children at the fundraiser called the brothers by their road names instead of their God given ones. Warmth spread through me. Darrell did so much for me even, though I wasn’t even involved in his life. “What about Courtney? Has she been looking for me?”

“She reached out to me a few years ago, telling me she was clean and has a family in California.” His tone was bitter, but I knew it wasn’t because he still had feelings for her. What she did to Darrell and me was a hard thing to overcome, and Darrell wasn’t a very forgiving man. “She made me promise that if I ever found you, I would contact her. I told her I would, but only if it was something you wanted me to do.”

“I want to meet her.”

Darrell looked at me, his eyes much kinder than before—the gaze Vincent tried but failed to give me my entire life. “Are you sure? There’s no pressure to meet her, Nyla.”

To his credit, he’d given me space, but was never out of reach. Over the past week, Mitchell’s been my rock, helping me process the total one-eighty my life took. Or was it more like three-sixty at this point? I lost count. Time goes by fast when your life is falling apart.

“I need to know who I am, who my real parents are.” I tried to make my voice as strong as possible, despite feeling at my lowest. “I need to do it for me so I can get closure.”

He nodded, understanding my need to meet the one who picked drugs over me. “I’ll fly her out here as soon as possible.”

“It won’t be bad for you, right?”

His throaty chuckle confused me. “You’re concerned about me?”

“Yeah. I know you two don’t have the best history.”

“Whatever I had with Courtney was a long time ago and doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll always be connected through you, but that’s where our connection ends. You’re my main priority; she has three other kids and a new husband to worry about.”

Was it selfish to feel a jealous pang in my chest when he said she had a brand-new family? “Why didn’t you have more kids?”

“A few reasons. The club took a lot of my time and attention—and it still does—but just starting up, I barely had enough time to look after myself, let alone a kid.” He looked at me, guilt clear in his dark eyes. “Didn’t feel right raisin’ other kids, knowing I didn’t get to raise you. If I ever found you again, I didn’t want to make you feel even more abandoned, like I loved you any less.”

“I don’t feel abandoned by you.” It was the truth. His reasons for what he did were heartbreaking enough, but I knew no matter what I told him, he would always hate himself for what he did to me and for the life he involuntarily got me involved with. “You did what you thought was best, and you tried to give me a better life. I can’t hate you for that.”

“I hate myself enough for the both of us.” His answer was grim and final, with no point in arguing. In the Souls, every member’s personality was built on their sin—they didn’t know who they were without their sin being the building block of them. Some hid it better than others, while some couldn’t hide it at all. Darrell was one who hid it well at first, but with his past coming at him at breakneck speed, he cracked under the pressure. Even the strongest of leaders fall sometimes, but that’s why you took pride in building the ones you lead to pick up the slack whenever you fall.

“I hope one day you can forgive yourself. I think…” I took a deep breath, hoping I was doing the right thing, “I mean, I would like to try to build a relationship with you. Get to know my… dad better.”

He coughed, trying to keep his emotions in check. I could see how much it meant to him that I even wanted to attempt a relationship. “I would like that.”

I mustered up my best smile. “Let me know if she’s willing to meet?”

When he nodded, I turned to walk out of his office.

“Nyla?” I paused, silently telling him I was listening. “Thank you for giving me a second chance to be your dad.”

My smile was watery, and I didn’t want to turn around and show him how much he was affecting me. Vincent groomed me in a way to make me think neglect was love, but I hoped my relationship with Darrell could grow beyond that and give me the stepping stones to heal from my past. I lifted my hand in a pitiful wave, not able to find the words as I walked out of the office, having hope for the future for the first time in forever.

“Nyla?”

I turned from our trio, noticing a woman who was just a few feet away, standing lock still, her eyes staying on me. True to his word, Darrell got in contact with Courtney, who actually jumped at the chance to meet me. Darrell paid for her to be on the next flight out to Utah, and only a few days later, here I was, meeting the woman who gave birth to me. I know some people say you resemble your parents, and while I looked nothing like Darrell, I could’ve easily been Courtney’s twin.

Same chestnut hair, same silver eyes, same slim frame. No wonder Darrell told me I was a copycat of her. The only difference was she was a few inches taller than me, and there were some wrinkles on her face, showing her age. It was a standoff between us, her putting her manicured hand up to her mouth, eyes glistening, while I just felt awkward, not knowing what to say. What do you say to your birth mother after twenty-two years?

I lifted my hand, ungraceful as I waved. “Hey.”

“My baby,” she cried as she ran to me, wrapping her arms around me. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet you.”

I stayed silent with my arms at my side, uncomfortable. I thought about Darrell’s story and how she made the decision to do heroin while pregnant with me. How she picked drugs over her own child. A part of me wanted to resent her for it, but the other part of me knew she was sick, and I didn’t want to hold a grudge over something I couldn’t change. I was miraculously fine after my traumatic birth—something I shouldn’t take for granted, especially knowing what could’ve been. Others would’ve run the other way seeing the woman who did that to them, and while part of me wanted to run, the bigger part of me wanted closure.

When she realized I wasn’t going to hug back, she pulled away and disappointment flashed over her face before she looked behind me. She plastered a cordial smile on her face. “Hello, Darrell.”

He dipped his chin. “Courtney.”

“I know…” she began, rubbing her right arm nervously. “I know we left off in a bad spot, but thank you for letting me know you found her. You didn’t have to, and after everything I’ve done, I wouldn’t blame you for doing so, but you gave me a chance to see my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” he corrected. “I’m doing this for her. Nyla has the right to meet her birth mother. Don’t think I did this for you.”

“Prez, chill.” Mitchell put a hand on his shoulder. I was thankful he was trying to protect Courtney, or so I thought, until his eyes narrowed sharply on her. “Nothin’ I wanna do more than rip you apart, lady. Only reason I’m holding back is because Nyla wanted to meet you.”

The air around us grew more uncomfortable by the minute. Courtney looked out of place, and truth be told, she was. I had no idea who she was, and by the sounds of it, neither did Darrell, not that he was interested in getting to know her.

Darrell took a calming breath before breaking the tensed silence around us. “We got a lot to discuss, come on.”

“This is delicious,” Courtney moaned, taking a bite of her pasta dish. “What did you think of it, honey?”

We decided to get dinner before we headed to Darrell’s house to talk about things—Mitchell recommended this place because the wine they had was superb. He knew I would need my happy juice for the serious conversation to be had. I wasn’t sure how I felt about calling me a pet name, but I appreciated she was trying her best to make me feel comfortable even though it was a lost cause. Having a family dinner with your boyfriend and your two parents who gave you up for adoption wasn’t exactly ideal. “It’s really good. I’ve never been here before.”

“I’ll take you here as often of you want, pretty girl.” Mitchell told me as he took a bite of his food. “This is some good shit.”

“For the price, it should be,” Darrell grumbled, and I had to stop myself from laughing. Such a total dad thing to say—

I stilled, reminded of why we were all gathered here in the first place. I was with my parents—my birth parents. I put my fork down on the plate, feeling inept. And, of course, that didn’t go unnoticed by the man who was always so attentive. “Nyla?”

“Sorry, I… This is just really weird,” I admitted, feeling awful for even thinking that.

“It’s okay to feel weird about meeting me, honey.” Courtney’s smile was comforting like a mother’s should be. “I’m sure this isn’t easy for you, but I appreciate how willing you were to meet me.”

“I wanted to know where I came from. Vincent always told me my mom left me on his doorstep when I was born, so the only mother figure I had was my grandma.” I didn’t miss the flash of hurt that passed through her eyes. “Sorry, I—”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Nyla,” Darrell cut in. “Courtney and I have everything to apologize for.”

“Anything that’s happened to you was because of our selfish choices, Nyla. I take full responsibility for my actions and the hurt it caused you. Nothing will make up for it, but I do care about you.” Her eyes welled up with tears, my gut telling me she regretted everything she had done. “I will always care about you, honey. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you that in your early years.”

I had to get out of there, my skin began to itch with discomfort as I was trying, but failing, to not fidget due to nerves. I wasn’t handling this well, feeling like my already loose thread of what was holding me together fraying at the seams even more. Thankfully Mitchell noticed, standing up and grabbing my hand to guide me away from this uncomfortable situation. “She needs some fresh air. We’ll meet you two outside.”

Their gazes were concerned, but they understood. It was an overwhelming situation for all of us, not just me. I wasn’t handling the overstimulation well. Mitchell led me outside, pulling me into his arms, and I immediately calmed, feeling protected. He didn’t say anything, just held me until Darrell and Courtney made their way out of the restaurant.

“Do you guys’ mind if we go to the park?” I didn’t know why I asked, but maybe it was because the thought of being with them in an enclosed space was too much for me right now.

“Anything you want.” Darrell nodded, motioning his head to his and Mitchell’s bike and Courtney’s car. “We’ll meet you down there, Grim.”

I’d never ridden a motorcycle until I met Mitchell, but I loved it. I felt as free as the wind blowing through my hair, even if it was just a short ride a few streets over to the local park. Lately I’ve felt like a prisoner, but here with Mitchell trusting him with my safety felt freeing. Pulling up to the park, it was a small space with a bench, a light post, and a poor excuse for playground equipment. Kids still loved to come here with friends. The playground may not be up to par, but the acres of land to play tag or football was a big hit.

Darrell pulled up, driving Courtney’s car. The two looked like they were having a serious discussion through the windshield. It’s been years, the two of them had the world to talk about but Darrell didn’t look interested in anything Courtney had to say as he stepped out of the car. He steeled the anger on his face as Courtney wiped off her annoyance, the two of them were like water and oil. Putting up a front for my sake even though they didn’t want to be near each other.

Walking over to the bench I sat down, Courtney sitting next to me. Darrell and Mitchell chose to stand. They said it was because they needed to be prepared in case something happened, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at their overprotective tendencies. The silence between us was tense, no one knowing where to begin.

“Did Vincent name me?”

“I gave you a name.” Darrell’s words piqued my interest. “Courtney loved watchin’ Beauty and the Beast, would hear it playin’ on repeat when I got home from work. Seen you through the window with your brown hair, you just looked like a Belle to me.” He looked at me, smiling at the fond memory. “So, that’s what I named you.”

“That’s my middle name,” I confessed, clutching the necklace around my neck as a source of comfort. Just even more proof that Darrell was my biological father, there was no way he could know some of the things he did about me.

“I already knew that lookin’ at your file.” I figured they ran a background check on me when I first got involved with them. “Was just another thing that got my mind goin’ on who you were.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Courtney gushed, hands on her cheeks and closing her eyes to relish in the sweet moment. “I always talked to Volt about baby names; I told him I wanted to name you Noel. Belle was a great choice, Darrell.”

Darrell’s eyes narrowed at Courtney suspiciously. “What else did you confide in Volt about?”

“Just name things.” When Darrell’s slanted stare didn’t relent, she began to fidget, looking very uncomfortable as she stepped from one foot to another. “You were never around, so Volt and I…” she trailed off, not bothering to finish her sentence, though we all could read in between the lines. She slept with Volt. I looked over at Darrell to see his reaction, and to my surprise, he didn’t seem that torn up about being cheated on.

“We weren’t in love or anything, Courtney, so you fuckin’ Volt doesn’t bother me. I was never planning on proposing; we only were together because of Nyla.”

It had to be the calmest reaction to getting cheated on ever, but Courtney didn’t look so relieved. “Still, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I used to be so horrible.”

“Are you like that to your husband and kids now?” She flinched, looking at me to see my reaction to her having a brand-new family. I was thankful Darrell told me about them before—and while the inept jealousy was still there, it didn’t bother me as much as before.

“No.” She smiled. “I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’m seven years sober. I’m the wife and mother I couldn’t be back then.”

Darrell dipped his head. “Just because you weren’t the best in the past, doesn’t mean you have to stay that way. You’ve grown, you look happy. All you can do is hope to atone for your sins, and you being here shows that you are.”

She wasn’t expecting him to comfort her and honestly, neither was I. “Thanks, Darrell.”

“Despite everything that’s happened and how I feel about you now,” Darrell’s expression toward Courtney was the sincerest since she’d arrived, “you gave us Nyla, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

She returned a small smile. It was cordial, and my heart felt full that they were getting along, even if it was only for my sake.

“Well, isn’t that cute.” My body went frigid at the voice, and Mitchell’s growl only confirmed my fears. “Nice to see you again, daughter.”

“She’s my daughter,” Darrell spat at him, venom laced with every word as he stepped between me and the man who raised me for his own personal profit. I began to shake, memories of his manipulation plaguing me once more as I fought not to be sick.

“I’m sorry.” Vincent shook his head, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “Last time I checked, I’m the one who raised her.” He tilted his head. “Where were you, Darrell? Somewhere with a needle in your arm and your cock buried in a booze-riddled whore?”

Darrell’s jaw clenched, not able to say anything because what he said was the truth, making a maniacal laugh escape from Dad’s throat. “Pathetic. You don’t even recognize me.”

“I know exactly who you are. You’re the piece of shit who raised my daughter and threw her away when she grew a backbone.” Darrell’s eyes narrowed, his teeth bared. “You kidnap helpless women and children who look to you for help, only to sell them against their will.”

Courtney gasped, obviously not knowing that tidbit of information, and I doubted she wanted to.

“While that’s true, that’s not who I am.” A deranged laugh left Vincent’s lips, his eyes sliding over to Courtney. His gaze softened around the edges, but his crazed look never faded. “Darling, why don’t you tell him who I am?”

Courtney’s breath caught in her throat, staring at him in horror. “Volt?”

“That’s my girl,” he praised condescendingly. “Knew you had beauty and brains.”

“You’re the only one who called me darling,” she weakly retorted, her face paling. I turned to Darrell, who looked like he saw a ghost, his chest didn’t even indicate he was breathing.

Vincent—or Volt, I guess—noticed the strong reaction he was getting out of him. “Twenty-two years does a lot to a man, brother.”

“You adopted Nyla.” Darrell’s words were monotone, eyes still wide with shock. “You… adopted Nyla.”

“Everyone told me how much of a mistake I was making, adopting a couple of druggie’s baby. I couldn’t afford to get into serious trouble while building my reputation on the surface level. When word got around that Darrell was giving his daughter up, I took the bait—after all, it was something that would crush you and make me look like a standup guy people could trust.” He threw a sneer my way, the loving look he used to have for me growing up totally gone, replaced by absolute disdain. “What a big fucking mistake that was.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

“You used Nyla to lure your victims in.” Darrell’s disgust was clear. My mind was muddled with the truth. I helped him lure those poor women and children in. All those pictures I found, all those innocent people looking for help… They trusted Grandma to come to help because someone who had a child wouldn’t hurt others, right?

My lungs felt tight, my airway closing and my breaths coming out rapidly. Mitchell was on me in a second, rubbing my back and murmuring words, though his comforting words sounding foggy. I thought about my childhood, about all my peers being excited to see me one day, but the next, treated me like dirt on the bottom of their shoe—them and their parents.

And now I knew why.

Oh God, I’m going to be sick.

“Is that why everyone avoided me as a kid?” I didn’t want to believe it. He convinced me that he and my grandma were all I needed as a kid. It was something I believed since my peers made it a point to actively avoid me. I would’ve taken any other reason besides this one.

“Rand fucked up a few times, and rumors spread. You were collateral, but that worked in our favor.” He didn’t sound ashamed; actually, there was a hint of amusement in his tone at how much the truth was affecting me. “Rumors of whoever Leela helped going missing didn’t help, either.”

I remembered volunteering with Grandma at the homeless shelter. They were all women, all very pretty women and some of them single moms escaping their abusive partners. Grandma brought them home, offering them a place to stay, telling them that she knew someone who would provide housing and food in exchange for work.

But once they walked out Grandma’s front door, they didn’t enter a sanctuary… they entered the gates of Hell.

My throat felt like it was closing, air coming through what felt like a straw in my throat.

“What the fuck happened to you, Volt?” Darrell took Volt’s attention off me and onto him, which I was thankful for. One more second of his menacing stare and I would’ve cracked, even though I was surrounded by Mitchell’s comforting touch. “We made a vow to do better than the shitty hand we were given. How could you become even worse?”

“It was always me and you since we were kids. We were inseparable, until Courtney came along.” His whole disposition went from cocky to spitting mad. “You may have fucked her first, but I loved her first. If that mistake didn’t happen, it would’ve been me and her, not you and her.”

By mistake, I knew he meant me.

Darrell and Mitchell began to twitch as my skin went clammy hearing the man I called my father tell them I was a mistake. The same thing Rand told me before I found out about Clarissa. Volt’s crazed eyes landed on Courtney, her skin white as a ghost. “Remember what you told me after you found out you were pregnant? Go on and tell them, darling.” All eyes went to Courtney, who began to visibly shake. Her head went from side to side, trying to rid herself of the memory. “Don’t be shy now, darling. If you don’t tell them, I will.”

“She already told us that she fucked you.” Darrell’s face was beet-red, rage taking over his whole body. “What else—”

“I didn’t want to use during my pregnancy, but Volt told me I would kill the baby if I quit cold turkey.” Darrell froze, turning toward Courtney. “Then I couldn’t stop, even afterward. I…” She gulped, the shattered remains of my heart splintering even more with her words. “I thought you were going to die. You weren’t breathing when you were born, and it was my fault. I couldn’t live with that. I picked heroin over facing the truth that my addiction almost killed you.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Darrell demanded, his muscles tight like he was trying to restrain himself. “He was lyin’ to you, Courtney! He wasn’t trying to save Nyla, he was tryin’ to fuckin’ kill her!”

“I didn’t know.” Her voice was small, full of regret. She looked at me with silver eyes that resembled mine, shining with the tears building in them. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Volt made so much sense, told me he talked to doctors who told him I couldn’t stop… and I believed him. He was our best friend, Darrell. I never thought he would lie to me.”

“He was in love with you, Courtney. He stopped bein’ my best friend as soon as you saw the plus sign on that cheap pregnancy test.” His laugh was incredulous. “I was always gone, trying to provide for you and Nyla. I trusted you to take care of our fuckin’ daughter.”

She was silent, her tears spilling over and falling onto the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did Grandma know everything?” It was another nail that was threatening to be nailed in my coffin, but I had to know. I already knew the truth, but accepting it was something I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle.

“You think she was with you because she wanted to be?” Vincent laughed at me. “She was there to condition you, to keep you distracted. She did a good job at it, too—you were none the wiser. Cherry on top was you attending all those charity events; it was easier to lure people in when a child’s involved.”

The feeling that seeped into my bones was indescribable.

“Leela’s not even my mom.” His admittance was so casual, like he hadn’t just lied and took care of me for the past twenty-two years. “She was just good at playing the part of a sweet old woman, helping lure in the innocent.” He smiled cockily at Mitchell. “Just like she did to Denise and Mallory.”

Mitchell went stock still at my side. “Mallory was a sweet kid, very pretty. Leela noticed, too. Just needed the perfect opportunity. When we found out about your addiction, it wasn’t hard to set a trap. We sent out the free movie vouchers and set the party up, knowing Denise would let you take the car, leaving them stranded. It went too perfectly, but turns out, Denise was a fighter. She fought until the very end, same as Mallory. She was tarnished goods by the time we were done with her, so we had to put her down like a fuckin’ wild animal.”

Bile rose in my throat as Mitchell’s now labored breathing was harsh beside me. I looked at him, his pupils dilated and the cords in his neck close to bursting. His body was so rigid, he resembled stone, and I feared if I put my hand on his, he would dissolve. “You killed them.”

He shrugged casually. “Technically, Rand did. He wanted a taste of Mallory before we brought her in. Couldn’t wait until we got her to our house so he tried right there in front of Denise. She fought tooth and nail and ended up clawing him in the face deep enough to scar.” They always told me the claw marks on Rand’s face were from a coyote attack. “They were one of our first public targets assigned to us by the Flock, and Rand panicked when they fought back and shot them both. That’s when we tried a different approach and got Nyla involved, and every attempt went much better after that.”

Mitchell’s posture shifted, his chest heaving with ragged heavy breaths. His pupils dilated as he looked ready to strike, to kill everything in his way. Volt’s grin was sinister as he proclaimed, “I even visited their graves, thanking them for their sacrifice. Because if it wasn’t for them, we might’ve not found a good system to handle all our product.” He sighed contently, putting his hand over his chest in fake sympathy. “My only regret is not getting a proper taste—"

Mitchell shot out like a whip in front of the group. A cackling Volt reached behind his back, drawing my attention at the gun he was hiding. He pointed it straight at Mitchell, his eyes insane and I froze at the familiar seen of the barrel of the gun being pointed in front of someone I loved.

The gun went off, and I moved without thinking.

I saw Mitchell’s wide eyes as I pushed him off balance, the way his shouts of my name were muddled as I felt excruciating pain in my stomach as the world warped around me—or maybe that was just me? I didn’t feel good, my consciousness fading to the point I didn’t feel the sting of the concrete below me as I fell to the ground.

The muddled shouts rang through my ears, but I couldn’t decipher them. I just wanted to sleep. I let myself slip into the darkness, where there was no pain, no suffering.

Just me and death looking each other in the face.

I wondered which one of us would win the fight.

I was hoping death would prevail.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

CHAPTER 29

Mitchell

T he world was drowned out as I watched Nyla move in front of me, unable to do anything but stare as she hit the pavement, the ground painted with her blood.

“Nyla!” I scrambled from where she pushed me out of the way of Volt’s bullet, the panic coursing through me wasn’t like anything I’d felt before. Not when I found out about Mom and Mallory, not when my father disowned me for being a fuck-up. Nothing compared to the feeling of my heart being ripped right out of my chest. “Nyla!”

Everything around me was secondary to her. My knees hit the pavement next to her, putting my forearm under her shoulders to hold her up slightly. I didn’t register the tears sliding down my cheeks as my hand slapped her paling cheek lightly. “Nyla, please, baby. Open your eyes. Please,” I begged, willing those gorgeous eyes I always got lost in to look at me. “Please.”

A sliver of her gorgeous eyes peeked at me, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. “Don’t speak. Save your breath,” I pleaded with her. “You’re gonna be okay.” I told myself, though my voice came out as a rough command. “You have to be okay.”

“Remember me?” I watched as the light dimmed in her silver eyes, taking her breath with them. As if she wasn’t staring death in the face.

“I’m following you to the other side.” A tear slipped from my face, falling on her paling skin. She was dying. Dying. “We’re going in opposite directions, but I’ll watch you ascend to a life where I know you’ll be happy.” Without me. You’ll be so much happier without me.

“I won’t be happy unless you’re with me.” Her words were weak as she sucked in a breath. “I love you.”

“You can tell me that later.” There was going to be a later… there had to be a later. “Save your breath, please.”

My begging was of no anvil as her eyes began to shut. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest out of fear if she closed them, it would be for the last time.

It couldn’t be. There was no life without Nyla. God needed to take me instead; that’s who the bullet was intended for. Me, not her. Never her.

This is why I shouldn’t have fallen in love with her.

My mind was blank with panic. I put my hand on her stomach, bile rising when I felt the stickiness of her blood cling to my skin. I had to try to stop it, it wasn’t clotting. I shrugged off my cut, taking my shirt off and applying pressure over the bullet wound that was leaking blood at a rapid pace. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

My life was dying right before my eyes.

Volt’s crazy as fuck laugh sounded far away. He could be shooting at us, and I wouldn’t care—and a part of me hoped he’d shoot at me again. “This is just my first of many gifts to you, Darrell. You fucked up my life, and I’ll make sure you’re miserable until your last breath.”

Prez wasn’t paying attention, rigid in his spot, trembling slightly, his eyes not able to leave Nyla. He just got his daughter back, only to be on the verge of losing her again, but he couldn’t lose it. Not if he wanted her to survive.

“Fuck!” Prez snapped out of his trance and terror filled his features. I’ve seen a lot of different expressions on his face, but fear was never one of them. “Hex. We need to get her to Hex.”

He was breaking, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. If it were a brother on the ground, he would’ve been calmer—he’d been in that situation more times than you could count on two hands, but now it was his daughter… his flesh and blood.

I hoped he could keep it together for the both of us. My heart wasn’t the only one shattering at the seams.

His words barely registered as I picked her up with little effort, trying to be mindful of her injury. Prez and I took our bikes here, but Courtney took the car Darrell had rented for her. Courtney was as white as a sheet, unable to take her eyes off Nyla. I didn’t have time to worry about her well-being as I yelled, “Keys. Car. Now.”

She raised her hand, still in a trance, handing Darrell her keys as he hastily took them from her. She stood there, looking at where Nyla’s blood was staining the ground, unable to take her eyes off the spot. We didn’t have time for this. “Courtney!”

She snapped her head to me, wordlessly rushing with us to her car. She hopped into the passenger seat while I gently got Nyla situated in the back sideways on my lap, holding her back up against my forearm, praying she would survive.

I held her to my chest, my anxiety allowing me to sit still as I rocked her back and forth. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

My tears went ignored on the ride back to the clubhouse as I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I prayed to a God I no longer believed in.

Please God… I’ll do anything if you just let her be okay.

I sat there in the uncomfortable plastic chair outside of Hex’s make-shift hospital, elbows on my knees, face buried in my hands. It’d been over an hour since I carried her limp body into the clubhouse, shouting for Hex, who immediately rushed her into his chambers to stop the bleeding. My hands were still covered in her blood. I refused to go wash up in case I missed something.

Nyla was in there fighting for her life because she thought my life was worth more than hers. I thought she was smarter than that. Didn’t she realize how much joy she brought to others?

I choked on the sob I was trying to keep in. The only emotions I’d ever shown around my brothers were either being a hard-ass or a smart-ass. I’ve never been sad around them; never expressed my emotions the way I was right now. But right now, I didn’t care.

I lifted my head, peeking at my unusually quiet brothers. Besides Oakley and Joslyn’s soft cries, it was dead silent. Even Tyrant was looking up at the ceiling, his lips mouthing something I couldn’t recognize. I felt a hand on my shoulder, seeing Prez look straight ahead, whose eyes were bloodshot like mine.

“Darrell?” Courtney’s strained voice cut through the despair in the hallway, all eyes going to a woman who looked like an older Nyla. Her face was red from the tears she shed and the attention we were giving her. “Can I talk to you?”

He was debating, not wanting to leave even for a second in case Hex came out with news about Nyla, but he relented. He stood and followed her out of the corridor until we couldn’t see them.

“Who’s that?” Tyrant asked the question everyone was wondering. “She looks like Nyla’s twin.”

“That’s Nyla’s birth mother.” I leaned my head against the wall, debating on smashing my head through the drywall just to feel anything but the sharp pain in my chest. I knew they were looking at me to explain, but that wasn’t my story to tell. If Prez wanted them to know who he was in relation to Nyla, then that was his business, not mine.

Silence fell back around us until we heard the familiar steps of Prez, his steel-toed boots echoing in the silent hallway. I didn’t hear any footsteps besides his, making me slant my eyes in his direction, noticing he was alone.

He settled back in his seat next to me like nothing had happened, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s Courtney?”

“Gone.” He pulled a sealed envelope out of his cut. “She gave me this to give to Nyla when she woke up.” He avoided the word if. I wasn’t the only one who was going to self-destruct if Nyla’s eyes closed for the final time.

“I’m sorry.” My whisper was choked, willing my tears to stay. The memory of Nyla bleeding out in my arms quickly became a new nightmare I wouldn’t soon forget. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” he croaked, turning to me, his eyes flaring with guilt. He was trying to keep it together in front of the men he led, but I could tell he was struggling. “Volt caught us off guard. We should’ve been more prepared, but I…” He swallowed past the lump in his throat, hanging his head in shame. “I let my guard down. I should’ve been more prepared. I haven’t seen him since Courtney was six months pregnant with Nyla, and I figured he was dead in a fuckin’ ditch somewhere.”

A hitch of breath sounded in the room, all eyes going to Victoria as she looked at Darrell, stunned. His smile was sad, the words he was about to tell her would cut her deep. “Nyla’s my biological daughter—” His voice cracked, putting his head back down, refusing to let anyone see the shield he spent his years building crack. “And now I might lose her before I can make anything up to her.”

The brothers got loud, shooting out questions that would go unanswered. My gaze stayed with Victoria, who held herself well, though I caught the undeniable sadness in her eyes. It was never easy learning the person you had feelings for had a secret child. If I knew Victoria like I thought I did, she would bounce back and help Darrell navigate through this traumatic experience.

We needed someone to be our anchor because right now, I felt like I was drowning—and I knew I wasn’t the only one barely keeping their head above water.

“We’ll discuss everything later.” Darrell’s command was flat, lacking the strength it usually held. “For now, let’s hope God answers one of our prayers… that He’ll bring Nyla back to us.”

I’ve sent hundreds of silent prayers His way since we got back to the clubhouse. Promises I’ll change, that I’ll be better… do better. But I couldn’t be any of those things if Nyla wasn’t by my side.

But for now, all we could do was wait while the other half of my rediscovered heart laid there, fighting for her life.

We sat in silence before Prez asked me, “How’re you feelin’ about Denise and Mallory?”

Rage consumed me, tempting me to smash my fist against the wall, but I held myself steady. So many thoughts ran through my mind about them being gunned down in the name of the Flock, just because they thought my sister would make them a good profit. I felt sick to my stomach, but it was something I couldn’t think about right now. “He’s going to fuckin’ pay. Not just for killin’ them, but for putting Nyla through all this bullshit she didn’t fuckin’ deserve.”

“He is.” Silence. “He’s going to wish he was dead by the time we’re done with him.”

No fuckin’ doubt about that.

After what felt like an eternity, Hex came out of the room. His eyes looked tired and weary, and his clothes were stained with blood—I tried to ward off the fact that it was Nyla’s blood. We all shot up, crowding Hex, which earned a scowl from him. He didn’t do people invading his space, but I didn’t give a fuck about that. “Bullet went through the left side of her abdomen. Had to remove her spleen and part of her pancreas. Blood transfusion.” The more he talked, the more dread I felt. His always flat tone didn’t indicate whether she would be okay or not. “She has to be heavily monitored.”

In other words, he didn’t know if she would live or die.

“Don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you, Hex.” Hex was more capable than any doctor I’ve ever met. If Nyla was going to live, her best shot was going to be with him. “You have a personal marker from me—”

“And me,” Prez cut in. Markers were a huge deal in our world, and it meant whatever Hex wanted, we would give him, or die trying.

“I’m going to my room. Someone stay with her at all times, and call me if something happens.” He was having a hard time handling all the gratitude we were throwing his way. Emotionless as always, he dipped his chin. He waited for us to make a path for him—we knew the consequences if we touched him, knowing we’d be the ones in the hospital beds instead.

“Y’all need anything, you call us.” Tyrant motioned to Darrell and me. “We’re all stayin’ at the clubhouse until Nyla recovers. Figured it’d be easier, especially if Volt is on the loose, looking for revenge.”

Prez bowed his head at him. “Thanks, brother.”

“We’ll go get the rooms ready.” Victoria’s voice was unnaturally quiet, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes as she disappeared from the group. Darrell watched her until she was out of sight before sighing dejectedly.

Libby followed her, Joslyn stopping in front of me with a small smile. “It’s not your fault.”

I scoffed, rubbing at my wet eyes with the heel of my hand. “Get outta here.”

She huffed a breath wiping her cheek. I could see why Sarge liked her; she was tough standing her ground in a club full of men twice times her size. Something she’s been doing since day one. “Blaming yourself takes away from what really matters, and that’s Nyla needing you.” She turned on her heel, throwing parting words over her shoulder as she went to help the others with setting up club rooms. “Either wallow in misery of what you can’t control or raise yourself to be who she needs. For Nyla’s sake, I hope you rise.”

She stomped off, her parting words echoing in my mind as Law came to us, his arm around a visibly upset Oakley’s shoulder. “Joslyn and Oakley are gonna stay here, too. Don’t want them out and about while Volt’s still on the loose. We sent Sarge, Knight, Husk and V to hunt for him.”

Good, we couldn’t let him get away. “What about the Bloods?”

Law shook his head. “They’ve been quiet since the party. Jordyn and the other girls were the only ones we let go from their group. Their numbers dipped, and it’s going to take time to recover from a blow like that.”

Oakley tensed at his side, hearing her father admit that we took three-fourths of the people at the party to Hellbound, never to be seen again. He squeezed her a bit tighter. “Sorry, Oak.”

She ignored him in favor for looking up at me, her eyes red from crying over her best friend. “Please take care of her.”

“I take care of what’s mine.” What a fuckin’ lie. What’s mine is lying in a hospital bed because of me.

They left, leaving Prez and me alone. We made our way into her room, my eyes watering when I saw her look so lifeless on the hospital bed. We rushed to her side, me going to her right and Prez on her left.

She had oxygen tubing in her nose, her skin paler than normal. She was in a fresh hospital grown, but the most important part was seeing the rise and fall of her chest.

She’s breathing. She’s alive… for now.

I counted her respirations, willing them to continue. I barely heard Prez when he started talking. “Can’t believe I only found her, just to watch her almost die.”

“But she’s not,” I said firmly, trying to convince myself and Prez. “She’s not gonna die.”

“She can’t die,” he said more to himself than to me, letting his guard down in my presence. We’ve been through more shit than the other brothers—we’re best friends. “She can’t.”

I looked at her face—the face that was the first thing I thought about when I woke up, and the last thing I saw when I went to sleep. Our story began by chance—fate, if you will. She was meant to break the storm raging through my soul. Neither of us knew it at the time, and I took her for granted, choosing my sins over her.

I grabbed her limp hand, bringing it to my face and clutching it as tightly as I dared as I prayed and gave more promises to God.

It should’ve been me.

If she lives, I’ll live for the angel you sent to me and didn’t deserve.

Just don’t take her away from me, please.

Two days had passed since Nyla took a bullet for me, and she still hasn’t opened her eyes.

I sat with her day and night, unable to eat or sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her on the ground, blood pooling out of her stomach. When I opened my eyes again, I immediately placed my fingers on her wrist, making sure she had a pulse. The relief was only short-lived when I remembered she was still unconscious. I would give anything to see her eyes shine at me and her small smiles when she didn’t think I was looking.

I loved her. She loved me.

Life is so cruel.

Darrell was up for over forty-eight hours, and he refused to go far. If he wasn’t next to Nyla, then he was outside the make-shift hospital room, sleeping on an uncomfortable chair. I promised to wake him if her status changed, but so far, it hadn’t. Hex said every day she remains stable is a step in the right direction. She’d never be the same again; her injuries might give her a slight limp and require physical therapy, but I would be by her side through any ailment or disability.

I couldn’t help myself, I read the letter Courtney wrote Nyla, and it took everything in me not to chase the bitch down. She never intended on staying in Nyla’s life, even after Prez called her. She just wanted closure for herself; she didn’t care about the spark of hope within Nyla that she would get to know her mother. I wanted to burn the note before Nyla read it, but I couldn’t do that to her. She would always wonder where she went, and this was the last piece of her mom she’d ever have.

I’d love her enough for the both of us.

I haven’t left her side since Hex allowed me in here, my hand was always touching her chilly skin, watching the rise and fall of her chest. She was so still—the only sound in the room was the heart rate monitor she was hooked up to.

It might’ve been just how tired I was, but I swear, I felt a twitch from where my hand was on top of hers, followed by a low groan. I held my breath, watching her eyes squeeze tight before prying them open, looking unfocused and confused. A relieved breath escaped me as her head turned slowly in my direction. Her silver eyes looked hazy as she gazed at me, using her energy to smile at me. “Mitch—”

I didn’t let her finish saying my name; instead, I threw myself at her, being mindful of her stitches. One of my hands buried itself into her brown locks, while the other snaked over her shoulders as my voice broke. “Nyla.”

“A-are you okay?” Her voice was rough from her dried throat.

A watery laugh left my lips at her ridiculous question, but I was just relieved to hear her voice. “You took a bullet for me, and you’re asking me how I am?”

“I know you’re beating yourself up over it.”

I didn’t answer because she already knew I was. Instead, I grabbed her hand and pressed my palm to hers, fingers strumming against the pads of hers. She knew me well enough that we didn’t have to talk to know what we wanted to say to one another. We’ve come a long way in the past few months.

I was supposed to get Darrell if Nyla woke up, but I pushed the guilt to the back of my mind. I wanted alone time with her. She closed her eyes, making my heart race and fingers immediately go to her pulse point on her wrist, making sure she was still alive. Her eyes shot open at my actions, knowing exactly what I was doing. The corner of her lips rose, her tired eyes recognizing my fear, and she selflessly tried to keep them open for my sake.

“Would you get me red poppy flowers?” I looked at her, my eyes tired from the combined stress of thinking I was going to lose her and the lack of sleep. I was confused by her question, but then I remembered when I walked into the flower shop and gave her red poppy flowers to remember me until the next time I saw her. “You know, if I didn’t make it?”

A watery chuckle left my lips. Would I get her flowers? For her grave? “I’d be following you to the other side, pretty girl. Wouldn’t be able to get you flowers.”

“I would want you to live for me.”

“There’s no living in a world without you in it.”

“But you’re—”

“I’ve been praying, making promises to God if He let you live,” I cut her off, needing her to hear me. She had to worry about getting better, and she shouldn’t have to worry about my fate on top of that. “Thinking about how once I found Mom and Mallory’s killer, the final atonement for my sin would be my death.”

I was looking forward to it. For the longest time, I was looking forward to my soul being saved, away from the mental torture and cast off into the pits of Hell. I could withstand physical pain, and it was the mental pain that broke even the strongest man. My short life was all planned.

Until Nyla showed up.

She was the sun at the end of a rainstorm the day we met. I tried to warn her away, and I should’ve stayed away. But I couldn’t… wouldn’t. It was easier to draw her in because her curiosity of me outweighed her fear. What a huge mistake on her part.

Her life would’ve been much easier if she hated me. She would’ve been safe—away from Volt’s plans for her and not mourning me.

Volt’s plans for her crept in my thoughts without warning. The idea of Nyla being caged like Clarissa was, alone, scared, naked in a cell customized just for her, in a soundproof room in the basement where nobody could hear her cries—

I touched Nyla, needing to be grounded by her touch. I needed to know she was still here, alive and breathing. When I thought about her in my made-up scenario, I felt bile rise to my throat. Not there. She would never be there because true to my word, this monster never let his treasure go.

Instead of saving herself, she saved me. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

Nyla took a bullet to save me. She thought I was worth her life, which I’m not. Seeing blood spill out of the wound in her stomach, that even the heavy pressure of my hands couldn’t slow, I thought I was dying. I watched as the life drained out of her silver eyes, taking a part of me with her. I didn’t know if she could hear my frantic shouts, willing her to stay with me and promises that everything would be okay. Even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter… All that mattered was that she was here with me now.

God answered my prayers, for now, anyway.

“What did you pray for?” she whispered breathlessly.

“You.” My truth was barely a whisper. “I prayed that if God blessed me with more of your time, I wouldn’t die for my sins, but live for you instead.” I clasped her tiny hand in between mine, looking into her gorgeous eyes so she knew I was serious. “The road we’re goin’ down won’t be easy… there’s gonna be more hard days than good. But I’m willing to work on myself for you.”

She smiled at me, her eyes watering as her other hand weakly touched the outside of mine. Even on the brink of death, she would always worry about me more than herself. “I’ll love you more on the hard days and be grateful for you on the good ones. We’ll do this, together.”

Together… I liked the sound of that.

I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. It was far from the perfect kiss—our lips were chapped and the residue of our tears rested on our lips. The kiss was imperfect…

But so were we.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

CHAPTER 30

Nyla

I  woke up groggy, thanking God Hex had me on a pain pump… even if it was just so I didn’t constantly bug him for medication. I’d always wondered what kind of doctor he was, but hoped I never found out. Life had other plans for me though, and I’m happy to say he’s more capable than any doctor I’ve visited in the past.

He saved my life.

I looked to my left, feeling a calloused hand on top of mine. I couldn’t help but smile, already knowing it was Mitchell without having to look at him. He hadn’t left my side except to shower. He ate here with me and slept by my bedside. If he wasn’t here, Darrell was, or Oakley and Joslyn. Even Tyrant and Knight came to cheer me up, though Tyrant was banned from my room per Mitchell after he made me laugh so hard a stitch popped open. But it was just what I needed; I needed normalcy.

Mitchell was treating me like I was made of glass, that I would break under the slightest of pressure. Every time I would ask about Courtney, he would evade my question or tell me we’d talk about it later. Darrell wasn’t any better, doing the same thing. I was growing frustrated. It’s been a week since the incident, and Hex told me I could attempt to walk today if I wanted. And I did, but I would have to get passed my wardens first.

Mitchell began to stir before he shot straight up, frantically looking for my hand and putting two fingers on my wrist, feeling my pulse before he visibly relaxed. My chest constricted that he had to physically feel I was alive to calm himself down. “I’m alive, Mitchell.”

His face darkened. “In my nightmares you’re not.”

My hand reached out, running my fingers through his long locks that were in desperate need of a cut, along with his beard. I loved this rugged look, but it wasn’t my Mitchell. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even if you did, I’d follow you.”

I knew he meant that. I sucked in a breath, gathering the courage for the conversation that could very well turn into a fight. He was tired of me asking, and I was tired of him evading.

“Where’s Courtney?”

“I told you—”

“You told me not to worry about it. She’s my mom, Mitchell. I haven’t seen her since the day Volt shot me.” He flinched, but I held my resolve. His face hardened like he didn’t want to tell me, and that told me what I wanted to know but didn’t want to hear. “She left, didn’t she?”

His walls collapsed, sympathy in his eyes as he confirmed my suspicions. “She left, pretty girl.”

“Did she say when she’s coming back?” There will be a when, right?

“She left you a note to read when you’re feelin’ better.”

“Let me see it.”

“Nyla—”

“It’s not going to hurt me worse than I already am.” Guilt that didn’t belong there flashed in his eyes. “Please?”

I watched as he rubbed the side of his face, debating what to do. Eventually, he gave in to me. He pulled a note out of his pocket, handing it over to me. The note was crumpled and the ink smeared. I could tell she cried while writing this due to the small water stains near the writing.

Dear Nyla,

I was so glad to meet you. I know I’ve never been a part of your life, but I’ve wondered about you every day since I gave birth to you. I was sick when I got pregnant; I wasn’t ready, and I was scared. I gave into temptation, and that almost took you away from me. Darrell will never forgive me, and I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me, either.

What I did during my pregnancy is something that will haunt me to my grave. I was selfish, I was weak, and I wasn’t fit to be your mother. You deserved better, so much better. I’m so sorry mine and Darrell’s choices affected you in such a way that you’re still feeling them to this day. I only want you to be happy… but it’s going to be without me.

Darrell’s club is dangerous, and I know you won’t leave, won’t leave that lifestyle. You’re one step away from death, and I can’t handle the constant fear of losing you to violence. It may be selfish of me, but I think it’s best if we just don’t keep in contact. I have a husband and kids I can’t risk… I hope you understand.

I love you, you’ll always be my first born.

Xoxo,

Courtney.

I reread the note over and over, trying to make it make sense. When I couldn’t, I just crumpled the paper up like she did with our relationship. I was going to be respectful of her wishes. I’m glad she came out and met me once, but her leaving again hurt me like I didn’t expect it would. How did a woman who abandoned her child, not once but twice, hurt me so much when I didn’t even know her?

“She doesn’t deserve you, pretty girl.” Mitchell rested the side of his head against mine, his Southern drawl comforting in my ear. “I’ll make up for all the pain she’s causing you, the pain they all caused you.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a tear dribble off my chin, feeling pity for myself since the shooting. Who knew it would be triggered by my mother I didn’t even know anything about. “I don’t think I can handle much more.”

“You can and you will.” His words were a fierce promise. “You promised to be by my side during my recovery, and that means I’m going to be with you through yours.”

“No, you won’t.” I remembered what he told me. That once he found his mother and Mallory’s murderer, he was going to… I couldn’t bear to think of it. The pessimistic part of my brain told me that even though he promised to get the help he needed, it wouldn’t work. “You’re going to leave me, too. I don’t think I can survive without you, Mitchell.”

“You survive for me, I survive for you.” He brought my knuckles up to his lips, making sure he kissed each one. “We’re not a normal couple, pretty girl. Our beginning was built on my lies and manipulation, but we’re working on the path of forgiveness. And I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

“I could never regret you, Mitchell.” I did my best to smile at him. “You saved me from the life Volt had planned for me.”

“Don’t even want to think of you goin’ through that.” His face contorted at the thought of the life I was supposed to live had he never came into it.

“You don’t have to.” The pain pump released a pleasant feeling of medication, and my alertness wanned. “Because you saved me from that life.”

My vision became blurry, but I didn’t miss the way his lips turned up in a way only reserved for me. He leaned his forehead against mine as I said something incoherent before I felt the vibrations of his chuckle when his lips pressed into my forehead.

“I love you.”

My eyes watered and a single tear slipped down my cheek. This was the first time he said the words out loud, but I knew he loved me long before now. He made sure to show me how much I meant to him. The corner of my lips twisted up, and I wished I had enough control over my body to respond to him.

I love you, too.

Groggy from the pain medication Hex had given me, I blinked my eyes open, not surprised they were dry. I was surprised by who I saw by my bedside, though. It was always Mitchell or Darrell…

Not Victoria, who made herself scarce since the truth about me being Darrell’s daughter came to light. She came to see me, but only for brief periods of time, and whenever Darrell wasn’t present. My heart sank at the thought of her hating me because of her feelings for Darrell.

Taking a better look at her, I noticed her eyes were bloodshot, puffy with bags under them like she’d been crying and not sleeping. She offered me a sweet smile, making me blurt out what I was thinking, regardless of the consequences. Something I knew was at the forefront of our hearts.

“I’m sorry.” Tears flooded my eyes, and I turned away, unable to meet Victoria’s gaze. I knew she had feelings for Darrell, so finding out he had a secret child must’ve been heavy on her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

She gave me a comforting smile, trying to hold her tears at bay. “Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”

“I…” I was having trouble finding my voice. “Because I’m…”

“Because your Darrell’s daughter?” Hearing that the man who raised me wasn’t my biological father, and the man who was had dedicated a whole club to taking out sinful men in my honor. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I don’t resent you, Nyla. I’m happy he found you.” Her smile turned sad. “He’s been my rock since the day he rescued me from the streets. Not a lot of people know this, but every night he would look at the stars and grab his necklace. Wasn’t sure why, but I do now.” Her eyes softened. “His wish finally came true.”

“Are you sure you don’t hate me? I know how you feel about him.”

“My feelings for Darrell aren’t based on resentment of you or his past.” The look in her eyes told me it was the truth. “Your love for someone is based on their actions toward you. Darrell has treated me with nothing but care and respect since day one. I have a past he doesn’t hold over my head, and I refuse to do the same for him.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

She looked ashamed of herself, diverting her attention away from me. “I don’t handle stress well. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. Shock makes me bottle up everything, and until I process my emotions, I’m a lost cause.” She shook her head, her gaze returning to mine. Not wanting to talk about her or Darrell any longer, she turned the conversation onto me. “I’m more worried about you. How’re you feeling about everything?”

“I don’t know how to feel,” I admitted. Physically, I was exhausted and in pain, which was understandable since I was shot. Mentally and emotionally? I didn’t know where to begin. My conversation with Mitchell was muddled in my brain. The brain fog from the high amounts of pain meds I was receiving was making me feel worse mentally, but better physically. I didn’t know if the tradeoff was worth it. “My life feels like it’s over.”

“Or maybe it’s just beginning.” I looked at her with curiosity, her words sounding identical to Mitchell’s. “Your life was built on lies, sweet girl. You’ve been through so much.” Her eyes scanned down to the bandage on my side. “The lies you were fed nearly killed you and took you away from your real family.”

Real family rang through my head like a metronome. I always thought I had a great family. If I hadn’t shown up to that party, where would I be right now? Would I be in this hospital bed? Would I still be living in Volt’s manipulation?

No, I would be locked in a basement like Clarissa was.

The thought of being alone, forced to take drugs to sedate me while men ravaged me without permission, made me feel nauseated. The past few months flashed before my eyes; how my life was great until it wasn’t. Mitchell came in, and unknowingly, exposed the lie my life was before he found me.

“You’ve changed,” she noted, her voice soft in case I took offense to it. “It’s a nice change… you’re more confident in yourself.”

“In such little time, I’ve had to learn how to grow myself instead of letting other people grow for me.” I smiled ruefully, the change within myself was good, no matter if I was forced to see it myself. “I didn’t realize there was a difference.”

A soft knock sounded on the door, interrupting us. Darrell walked in a few moments later, surprised when he spotted Victoria by my bedside. “Hey, Victoria.”

Her smile was sad. “Darrell.”

The air between them was suffocating. Something happened between them, something that put a divider up separating them even more. I knew it wasn’t me, Victoria wouldn’t be offering comfort by my side if it was, but the dark thoughts plaguing me refused to dissipate, intrusive thoughts infiltrating without consent.

Me being alive, ruining so many people’s relationships, just made going asleep and never waking up sound so much better.

Victoria stood, giving me one last strained smile. “I’ll come check on you later, beaut.”

I watched her walk out, my heart constricting when she didn’t even look at Darrell as she made her exit. In the past, she refused to leave without saying goodbye to him, everyone else be damned. Remorse flashed in his eyes as he watched her leave, his lungs releasing any air left in his body as he turned to me. “How’re you feeling?”

“I feel okay.” If okay meant the borderline unbearable pain in my left side, then yeah, I was. “Where’s Mitchell?”

“Sleepin’.” I felt relieved. I knew he hadn’t gotten a decent night’s rest since the shooting. “His room’s right down the hall; he’ll be here as soon as he wakes up.”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “How’d you get him to sleep?”

He pretended to look innocent. “May have crushed up some melatonin in his drink…”

I wanted to be mad, but Mitchell desperately needed the rest. No doubt he’d be pissed when he woke up. He was determined to stay by my side until I got out of here, which hopefully, would be soon. “Have you found Volt?”

His face scrunched angrily at the mention of his name. “You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart.”

I thought the man who shot me being caught was my business, but apparently, it was not. I opened my mouth to argue with him, but the look he gave me told me to just let it go. I sighed internally. Between Mitchell and Darrell, I didn’t think I was going to be allowed to breathe without their permission.

The silence was eating at us. Darrell stewed in regret while my mind wondered about what was happening, trying to process too many things at once. I knew one thing I could maybe help take off his shoulders.

“Victoria doesn’t care.”

His lips turned up slightly in a contrite way. “You don’t need to worry about her; just worry about getting better.”

I wasn’t settling for that. I caused so much pain between this club and had potentially ruined whatever was between Darrell and Victoria. It would make me feel better if maybe I could alleviate some of it. “She doesn’t care that I’m your daughter, Darrell. She told me—”

“You need to rest,” he cut me off, not wanting to discuss Victoria. I frowned but decided not to push. He must’ve noticed how his scolding made me feel. He rubbed the back of his head, unsure what to do. This was going to be a long road for both of us getting to know each other—how to be father and daughter after a life of not knowing one another. “We’ll figure everything out later, okay? One day at a time.”

One day at a time. Just like Mitchell and I were doing, and now I would be doing the same with my… dad.

Just thinking the president of a dangerous motorcycle club being my father was a strange thought. The beginning was rough—what with the kidnapping and the threats, which I was sure were eating him alive now. He didn’t know how to be anything but ruthless, protective of something he built from the ground up in hopes to find me and lead men who have been tossed aside by the hardships of life.

Just like every other man in this club, his morals were questionable… but sometimes the morally correct thing wasn’t always the right thing.

I knew if they went about finding Clarissa the moral way, she would’ve still been a lost girl in a world full of cruelty and greed.

I saw something move from the corner of my eye, seeing Darrell’s hand lift toward me. He hesitated slightly before his fingers slipped between my hair, smoothing out my locks. His motions were slow and uneven, but the effort he was putting into it made my eyes burn. It felt so… warm. I could feel the care he had for me in every uncharacteristic motion. Volt never did this for me in the twenty-two years I was forced to be with him.

I was ashamed I ever gave him the title of father.

“Is this okay?”

He sounded so unsure of himself, and it wasn’t lost on me that a man who ran a ruthless motorcycle club was unsure of himself. I didn’t think they belonged in the same sentence. My smile trembled as I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes and letting a tear slip through. “It’s fine.”

I focused on his repetitive movements, letting it lull me into sleep I knew I needed. My mind was riled up, my body writhing in pain, but the feel of Darrell’s touch… my dad’s touch…

I knew everything would be okay.

CHAPTER 31

Nyla

I  breathed the fresh air into my lungs, something I would never take for granted again. I lifted my arms above my head, wincing as I felt a pull on my left side before a chastising voice came from behind me. “Don’t stretch too hard or you’ll reopen your wound.”

I rolled my eyes. “How can I stretch to hard, Mitchell?”

“You’re the one who just winced, so you tell me.”

I pouted. I didn’t know if I liked the way he noticed my every move. Hex told me the extent of my damage could leave me with a slight limp, and he recommended physical therapy. While I did limp slightly, it was mostly due to the pain I still felt, which wasn’t nearly as bad as it once was.

“Where are we go— Hey!” I shouted as Mitchell picked me up, carrying me down the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t want you to trip and fall. You’re still fucked up from your pain meds.” No, I wasn’t, or at least, I didn’t feel like I was. “Just let me take care of you, Nyla.”

The newly independent woman in me wanted to take care of myself, but the passenger princess in me wanted to be waited on hand and foot by my hunky biker boyfriend.

Apparently, the passenger princess personality won.

He put me in the car gently, placing a kiss on my lips before he made his way to the driver’s seat. I sighed in contentment. “Where are we going?”

“My place.”

My eyebrows furrowed, fear gripping me. I figured we were just going on a drive to get me out of the club for a bit since I’ve been holed up there for over a week. To my understanding, Darrell wanted everyone to remain there until Volt was caught. “What about Volt?”

“Brothers are out lookin’ for him.” His tone was sharp, gripping the steering wheel until his tanned knuckles turned white. “Fucker isn’t gonna get away from us, but since the brothers are out, you’re just as safe at my place as you are the club, and I want you to be more comfortable in our bed.”

The fear I felt loosened its grip, warmth replacing it. “Our bed? Aren’t you supposed to ask me to share your bed?”

“Since when do I ask when it comes to you, pretty girl?”

Wasn’t that the truth? Mitchell was a man who took what he wanted, even if he had to use him charm to get it. The beginning of our relationship was him dealing with my stubbornness, having a special method of persuasion for me. He knew how to work me like a mastered instrument, and I gave him the lessons to do so.

My head pivoted toward him with a small smile on my lips. “Never.”

“Monster, remember? You’re my treasure.” He intertwined our fingers, bringing our connected hands to his lips. “I’ll always do what’s best for you, even when you think it’s not.”

The warmth he gave me made all the pain I was feeling go away as he drove us off to his home.

Our home.

A smile graced my lips. I liked the sound of that.

These were the evenings I could’ve only dreamed about having with Mitchell. I was sprawled out on the couch, my feet in his lap as he absentmindedly massaged my feet. I couldn’t help but let a little moan escape, feeling the way he tensed slightly. I dipped my chin to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he grumbled, continuing his motions, expecting me to just drop it, but I pulled my foot away. Slowly sitting up and trying to hide my wince when my wound pulled, but just like everything else, I knew he noticed it when he bared his teeth at me. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I have been for over a week.” Hex told me four to six weeks, but who could resist a man like Mitchell for that long? Being alone with him for the first time in over a week was making me feel things. I wanted him, and I had a suspicion he wanted me, too. That’s why he was being so quiet. He was fighting himself while I just wanted him to own me.

“Stop looking at me like that, Nyla.” His voice was gravely, and I knew he was turned-on—and it was only amplified by his hazel eyes darkening into a mossy-green. “You’re hurt.”

I pouted, drawing his attention to my bottom lip. “That doesn’t mean I can’t help you with your big problem, right?”

His big problem being the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans, one that couldn’t be hidden. He growled, drawing my attention back to his face. “Unless I can get you off too, you’re not touchin’ me.”

“But you can—”

“No, Nyla.” He was stern, even if I could tell his lust was making him debate with himself. “Once you’re off restrictions.” Hex told me no sexual activities for at least six weeks, which I thought would be fine… And it wouldn’t have been a problem if Mitchell didn’t have such fuck-me eyes that I couldn’t resist. “I’ll make sure you’re bedridden by my cock, but until then… no touching me or yourself.”

I sank down into the couch, matching my mood. “Since when do you play by the rules?”

“Since you became my number one priority.”

“No fun.” I turned my eyes back to the movie, and he laughed at my sulking.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” His voice lowered seductively as his eyes narrowed predatory. “You’ll be choking on my cock soon enough.”

But it wouldn’t be soon enough. I pouted, knowing he was right, but hating that he was. It’s felt like it’d been years since we’ve had sex… I missed him. But I knew when he got the green light, he’d make it up to me handsomely. But until then I would wait here, alone and dickless.

His phone rang, cutting the mood between us… well, me. Mitchell refused to peel his eyes from me, even as he answered the phone. “Yeah?” He kept his eyes focused on me, and I could tell whoever called him had news he was waiting for as his breath hitched and eyes went wide. “On my way.”

Gently, he moved my legs off his lap before he hopped off the couch, running into the pantry. I sat up, wincing slightly. “What’s going on?”

“Gotta tip on Volt.” His voice bounced off the walls as he came out of the pantry, gun in hand. “Gonna go check it out.”

My skin became clammy at the thought of him being out there with Volt. He tried to take Mitchell away from me once, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. “What if—”

“We can talk about the what ifs later.” He was determined as he shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Right now, I need to do what needs to be done, and that’s watching that fucker bleed out.”

He deserved more than just to bleed out; he deserved to suffer. But if he was leaving, that meant I’d be alone. “Am I going to the clubhouse, then?”

He looked like he was debating what to do. The tip he got was on a crucial time constraint—he didn’t want to leave me alone, but he also didn’t want to let Volt get away. Dread filled me when he shook his head. “No time for it. We can’t lose our ground on him.”

I began to sweat. I really, really didn’t want to be without Mitchell right now. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He walked over to me, putting his large hand on the crown of my head and pressing his forehead into mine. “You’re just gonna be alone until Law gets here with Oakley, okay? He’s already on his way here.”

That still didn’t make me feel better. I cupped his cheeks and whispered, “Come back to me.”

His eyes softened. “Always, pretty girl.”

He pressed his lips to mine in what I hoped wouldn’t be our last kiss. I watched as he walked out the door, and with each step he took away from me, the more anxiety coursed through my tense body. My skin was crawling with nerves, jumping at every little sound I heard. I knew I was just being a scaredy cat, but I would feel better if I had something to defend myself with. Just in case, hopefully.

With great effort, I walked into the bedroom. I was still limping heavily, having trouble keeping my balance. Putting a hand to steady myself, I dug underneath the mattress for the hidden gun that was there. It’s funny, when I was first forced to come here, Mitchell wouldn’t tell me the locations of his guns for his safety, which was smart. Who knows what I would’ve done in the mindset I was in? But yesterday, he made sure I knew the location of every gun for my safety.

Oh, how far we’ve come.

The way our relationship grew wasn’t traditional, but it was us. Our story was uniquely ours and ours alone.

I brushed my fingers along the metal of the barrel. I’ve never even held a gun, let alone shot one—and I hoped I never would. I didn’t know if I had it in me to take somebody’s life, even if they deserved it.

Like Volt.

He deserved to eat a bullet more than anyone I’ve met. But could I be the one to deliver it if it came down to it? I wasn’t sure. I hoped I would never have to find out.

“Hello, daughter.”

My body froze, panic spreading to every nerve telling me this nightmare was just a side effect of my pain medication. Yeah, that was it. I was still on the couch, and Mitchell was still rubbing my feet. We were happily domestic for the first time since we’d known one another.

His sardonic cackle broke through the protective shield I built for myself, shattering it to pieces and leaving me open for the man who raised me to come finish what he started. He came to kill the daughter of his best friend who took everything from him.

And he was going to take everything from him in return.

“Just going to ignore me? I know you can hear me. I know everything about you.” He was going to use myself against me like it was some kind of wicked advantage, but he didn’t know how much I had changed. “Let’s not play this game, Nyla. I came here to talk.”

“How did you get in here?” Mitchell locked the door behind him, I know he did. I remember hearing the lock shift in place.

“During your boyfriend’s drug-induced stupor.” He laughed, anger seeping in as he ever so casually joked about Mitchell’s relapse. “I scoped the place out, insurance if you will. He never noticed. I swiped the extra key and learned his codes.” The grin of his face twisted wickedly. “I just regret not killing him right then and there. His addiction got his mother and sister killed, and now it’s going to get you killed.”

I knew I should be scared by his threat, but he made a mistake, too. Yes, he knew me, but I also knew him. This was what he wanted from me, but I knew his tells. His posture was stiff, like he was nervous about something. Unlike last time, he didn’t have a weapon to threaten me with, which told me his intention wasn’t to immediately kill me…

But that wasn’t his biggest mistake.

He failed to realize I wasn’t the obedient girl he went to extreme measures to groom; I was my own person. I wasn’t Nyla Brooks anymore.

I was Nyla fucking Moore, and she wasn’t obedient, she was strong. She was loved, she had a home full of people just like her… people who would support her whether she did what they wanted or not. That’s family, not this filth standing in front of me.

I was about to show him how strong I’d become without him and his lies.

I twisted my body around, the gun pointed directly at him. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he released a vile jest. “So, we’re going to come full circle? I adopted you, made sure you had a good life. I shot you, so now you’re going to shoot me?” His arms spread wide, opening himself up as a target. “Go ahead, Nyla, take your shot. Here, I’ll even start it for you!”

He turned to the dresser to his left, smashing his face into the wood before he faced me again, blood dripping from his nose and his lips. He looked like an absolute lunatic. “There, shoot me! Shoot me!”

He was begging, like he cracked under all the pressure he was under and it took over the sane part of him. He deserved much worse for all the pain he’d caused others, rather than the satisfaction of a quick bullet to head. I was right, though; he was nervous about something.

“The life you gave me was just like a picture. Everyone thinks you’re happy, but the truth behind it is dark.” I clutched the gun tighter as the memories of a falsified happy childhood raced through my mind. Leela taking me to the park. Chatting with different parents, taking me to the homeless shelter with her and offering shelter to those who were struggling. I hated myself for not realizing the horrible people they were sooner. The Souls talked about sins they couldn’t be forgiven for? Well, I would never forgive myself for unknowingly luring innocent women to their personal hell. My hands trembled, putting my finger on the trigger. “You were supposed to help people.”

“I was only interested in helping myself.”

“Why did you do it? How could you hurt so many people?”

“Because I could.” His answer made him sound even more evil than what I thought. “The power you get from controlling others is a rush not even heroin can hit. Trust me, I tried to sedate my urges with drugs.” His smirk made my stomach churn. “Turns out, unwilling women is my vice.” His answer disgusted me. How many of those women would’ve been saved if I just knew what was going on? How many of those situations would’ve been avoided if I didn’t exist?

“Why did you adopt me?” I already knew the answer, I just wanted to hear it come from him. The beginning of my closure began with my acceptance of the truth that came out of this madman’s mouth.

“You would’ve made me a lot of money, daughter.” A small trail of blood seeped from his maniacal grin. “The deal with your buyer was almost done, but then that fucking biker came around, costing me thousands.”

My stomach churned at his words. I had a suspicion, but hearing my worst fears confirmed was unsettling. He never did anything without evil intentions, the thought of it making my grip on the gun tighten out of fear. “You were going to sell me?”

“Why else would anyone want you?” He said it like I was a fool for thinking otherwise. “Darrell didn’t want you; Courtney didn’t want you, and she still doesn’t.”

“You’re wrong,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice strong. I knew what he was trying to do; he was trying to make me turn against my new family. Darrell wanted to be my dad, and he was putting in more effort than Volt ever had at being a loving father. Darrell supported me without question, not only when I did what he wanted. “Mitchell wants me.”

His laugh ignited fear into my bones. “The man who’s planning to end his life one he’s atoned for his sin? If he wants you, he wouldn’t still be planning to do that.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted metal. “You should know of all people, that with mental illness, love isn’t an automatic solution, but I’m trying, and he’s willing to try because he loves me.”

“Love is a stupid emotion.” His bitterness shone with every word. “The only woman I loved didn’t love me back.”

“She dodged a bullet,” I spat at him. A question that would always go unanswered was why Courtney picked a fling with Darrell over the love Volt promised to provide her. Would he be this way if she had picked him? Love is a volatile emotion… it makes people go insane.

The man in front of me was proof of that.

He laughed. “If Mitchell could, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I protected him because I loved him.” I knew what I was going to say next wasn’t the smartest, but I wanted to throw him off-kilter to see if I could get any more information about the Flock through him. “Courtney left because she didn’t love you.”

His face was burning, the cords in his neck straining against his skin. “She picked drugs over you. She didn’t love you, either!”

“I know, but I’m going to choose to do good things with the trauma she left me with. You’ve done nothing but make others more miserable than you are.” It was a hurtful thing to throw at him, but it was the truth.

He stayed silent, looking menacing, with blood dripping from his broken nose. I had him in place, knowing only one of us would make it out of here alive. Keeping the gun upright, I decided to get more answers. “If you were planning on…” I couldn’t say the words, but he knew what I meant. “Then why were you going to let me go to nursing school?”

“I only allowed you to apply for nursing school because you were never going to make it to your first day of classes.” His sinister grin made fear pool in my stomach. “We were going to go to Leela’s, move some shit out of the basement, but you would never make it back up those stairs.”

My hands beginning to tremble. I was afraid I would accidentally press the trigger before I got the answers I deserved and give him a swift death that wasn’t painful enough. “How did you get everyone to not talk about your… business when I was around?”

“Vincent was the code word for when you were around; they knew not to talk about anything pertaining the business when I was called Vincent.” Blood dripped off his chin, and he was growing more deranged by the second. “Leela and Rand were assigned to help me run the Utah sanction of the Flock.”

That was new information. “You don’t run the whole operation?”

“I don’t run the Flock.” Blood trickled out of his mouth steadily, and he spit on the ground. Was that a tooth? “I’m just a pawn in his game.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s going to kill me because of you. You’ve ruined everything.” He spread his arms out wider. “So shoot me, put me out of my misery.”

“Death is too good for someone like you.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling his gun to his head. “Shoot me or I’ll shoot myself.”

“Why are you even giving me a choice?”

“Because I wanted to prove that you’re still the weak little bitch no one wanted.”

“I’m Nyla Moore, daughter of Darrell Moore, the president of the Unforgiven Souls. I have a whole club of sinners like me by my side.” My finger tensed on the trigger. “Killing you isn’t a sin, it’s a blessing.”

He laughed, tilting his head up to the ceiling before he rushed me, his eyes beyond human looking. I screamed, finger pulling the trigger—

BANG!

My watered-down screams bounced off the walls as blood splattered around the room, my breath ragged as I watched Volt’s blood seep into the carpet. I vaguely heard the front door being kicked in.

“Nyla!”

Mitchell, Darrel, and Trevor rushed in, guns pointed in every direction of mine and Mitchell’s bedroom. Volt lay on the floor, the light dimming out of his eyes. My hands began to shake so hard, I dropped the gun. “I-I—”

Mitchell rushed over to me, grounding me with his hands on my cheeks. He began to wipe Volt’s blood off my cheeks as I tried to steady my breathing, trying to focus on his words that sounded muffled, but I was still able to make out what he was saying.

“Nyla, baby. You’re going into shock.” Mitchell’s words finally came through. “I’m here. I’m here, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“He doesn’t run the Flock.” I don’t know why I said that. My mind wasn’t processing Volt’s break-in or his death at my hands very well at all, so maybe it was a reaction to the shock I felt. Shocked stares focused on me. I knew they were banking on Volt being in charge of the Flock, but unless he was lying, that wasn’t the case. “He said the man in charge of the Flock was going to kill him because of me.”

They were speechless, and I was having a hard time with it myself.

“Sweetheart, come sit in the living room with us.” Darrell’s tone was gentle, and I thought sitting was a good idea because I felt weak in the knees. Mitchell must’ve seen my struggle when he scooped me up in his arms and led me out to our room. But instead of sitting me on the couch next to him, Mitchell sat down with me on his lap, refusing to let me go.

Mitchell tugged me into his chest, his hand soothing my hair. I recognized what he was doing, but I didn’t feel the comfort of it. “He told me to shoot him or he would shoot himself.”

The blood running down his face, his smashed nose, eyes too far gone to be anything resembling more animal than man. It was an image I didn’t like, and I knew it would never leave me completely. “You got him, sweetheart,” Darrell consoled, crouching down to me. “You did good.”

“I told him my name’s Nyla Moore.” Darrell’s breath hitched at my confession. I was on a roll with what happened, so I might as well tell him everything I said. “I don’t want to be Nyla Brooks anymore.”

“You’re gonna be Nyla Walker soon.” Mitchell’s comment didn’t go unheard by me; I just didn’t have the mental capacity to believe he would actually want to marry me. He didn’t seem bothered by my lack of response; instead, he rocked me back and forth like he couldn’t sit still but wanted me to be comforted at the same time—like a mother rocked her baby. “Fuck, pretty girl. You’re gonna send me to an early grave.”

A choked laugh escaped my lips as I wrapped my arms around him. The dam pouring over at the thought of him dying was what uncorked my gratitude I thought I’d never show him… especially at how our relationship began. “I thought… I thought you coming into my life ruined it, but you saved me from a life that would’ve killed me.”

“God Himself can’t keep us apart, Nyla.” He held me so tightly, I thought my stitches were going to pop open, but I didn’t care. I needed Mitchell—his touch and his comfort. “And if He tried? I’d fight the Almighty Himself if it meant I got to keep you forever.”

I buried my face into his chest, the river flowing from my eyes a steady stream. “I am yours, forever.”

His response was to hold me tighter. There was nothing else I needed.

Volt was dead.

I found my real father, who created a whole family in an effort to find me.

Mitchell was going to get help.

It was over.

It was finally over.

CHAPTER 32

Nyla

T he rain was heavy, as if God sensed my sorrows and sent the rain as an empathetic gesture. I didn’t care, though.

My focus was on the tombstone in front of me.

I stood there, letting the rain wash over me as I read the engraving on the stone.

Leela Brooks

Beloved mother and grandmother. May she rest in peace.

I scoffed as I read the headstone, contemplating crossing out beloved on the headstone, knowing that my most important person helped traffic women and children. She wasn’t going to be remembered by anyone in a good way; I would make sure everyone knew what a vile woman she actually was.

Leela’s legacy of kindness was nothing but a ruse, but I was going to make sure one was created. One where survivors of crimes would actually get help, and I would follow up with them to make sure they were safe—not just a forgotten picture in their captors’ basement.

I was going to try to make up for the harm I unknowingly caused others. It would never be enough—it was something that was always going to weigh on my mind—but with my newfound family by my side, I knew I would make the world better when I left it than when I entered it.

No more would it be the Leela’s Legacy fundraiser I put on every year. I was still going to put it on, but renamed it as the Saving our Souls foundation… sponsored by the Unforgiven Souls MC.

It was the perfect name for a perfect cause, with the most perfectly imperfect people running it.

I sensed someone behind me, a smile growing on my lips as I already knew who it was.

“I thought you could use some company.”

His Southern drawl made my lips turn up as my eyes narrowed, but there was no harshness in my voice. “What if I wanted to be alone?”

“No one truly wants to be alone.” He didn’t take his gaze off of me as he repeated the words I told him the day we met. “Especially in a place like this.”

“You don’t know me. Don’t go assuming what I want or need.”

“I know exactly what you need, pretty girl. You need me,” the callousness of his thumb brushed against my tear-stained cheek, “just like I need you.”

Our conversation took me back to when we first met months ago, when we were just two strangers grieving over the loss of our loved ones, not knowing the impact we were going to have on each other’s lives. He tilted his head, asking me the same question I asked him when we first met. “If you could have one wish, what would it be?”

I looked up to the sky, the way he did on the day we met. What a loaded question… I have many wishes. I wish Darrell didn’t give me up. I wish I never knew Volt’s name. I wish I never knew about this dark side of reality, but then again, if I didn’t… I would’ve never met Mitchell. “I wish I could be saved.”

“You’re damned with me, pretty girl.” The rain soaked both of us as he gripped the back of my neck, slightly tilting my head upward to look in his eyes. “The only way you’ll be saved is if we’re saved together.”

“What am I suppose to do, Mitchell?” I whispered to the sky, knowing he could hear me. I knew I could let myself be truthful with him about the mess my mind was. “My whole life, everyone I loved and cared about, used me for personal gain. A life full of what I thought was love was just manipulation. How do you move on from that?” I looked over at him, my tears mixing with the rain sliding down my face. “How am I ever gonna start my life over?”

“My life didn’t start until I met you.” My eyes widened at the truth behind his words. “Life starts when you have something to live for.” His hands were planted firmly on my hips, pulling me flush with his body. “And let me tell you, Nyla, you’re the only reason I have somethin’ to live for.”

I put my hands on his chest, slightly sinking in the soaked fabric. “What about the club? Your brothers?”

His lips turned up at the corners. “They’d mourn me; hopefully have some peace that I wasn’t a slave to my sins. But I wouldn’t be able to rest in Hell knowing without me, it’d be Hell on Earth for you.”

My lips tilted in a smirk; only he could unwrap the jumbled mess my mind was and make me feel a semblance of normalcy. “How do you know my life would be Hell on Earth without you in it?”

He licked the rain off his top lip, a motion that did not go unnoticed and I felt it in my knees. He knew the effect it had on me, and hopefully, I’d get the chance to show it to him later. “A life of celibacy wouldn’t be fun for you, especially not with all those pretty faces you make when I make you come.” His smirk was infectious as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I raised a challenging eyebrow, clearly teasing but wanting to drive this man half as crazy as he drove me. “Who’s says I’d be celibate?”

His eyes narrowed, his lip curling the right side of his mouth. “The only thing you’ll be fucking when I’m gone is me in your dreams.”

“I’m sure you’ll have fun watching me—”

“Finish that sentence, and I’ll fuck you on this cunt’s grave.” His threat wasn’t idle, I knew he would. The temptation of doing such a vile act on some vile woman’s grave had a lot of merit to it.

“I don’t want to give her the satisfaction,” I said with distaste. The only thing she deserved was to be down in Hell, receiving the same treatment she bestowed upon others. “I just came to spit on her grave.”

“You’re right.” He tugged me closer, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m the only one allowed to see your beautiful body.”

“My body is yours and yours alone,” I whispered against his lips. Showing the woman who used to mean so much to me that she didn’t win. I would try my best to soothe all her wrongdoings… but the list was a mile long. But I had some time to start righting some wrongs now.

Due to my injuries from the shooting, I had to drop out of nursing school, but I was optimistic that I could join the next year. Until then, Hex told me he would teach me some things, much to Mitchell and Darrell’s chagrin, since apparently, Hex had seen and done some very… hardcore things. That was putting it mildly. But I had a feeling I would learn a lot more from him than in school.

I was going to use the time to set a new direction in my life with Mitchell—a future I never thought was possible.

“How do you feel?” I asked him. I knew he was struggling with who really took his mom and sister away from him, what the Flock’s plan was with Mallory.

His eyes shut slowly, lightly shaking as he tried to rid himself of his thoughts or trying to compile enough strength to tell me how he truly felt. “It was mercy.”

“What?”

“They would’ve come for Mallory at some point. At school, night out with friends, whatever.” He looked up at the sky, making me think he wasn’t talking to me anymore. “I hate it. I hate that they're gone, but their lives were decided for them when the Flock wanted them. I’d rather they be dead than locked in a basement, wishing for someone to come save them.”

My eyes watered at that sordid reality. He’s said similar words to me in the past. I didn’t want to, but a quick bullet to the head was better than their plans for Denise and Mallory.

Denise would’ve died when Mallory did. No parent should ever have to bury their child.

“Regret not stayin’ to watch Rand get ditched.” I knew Rand’s death was slow and torturous. He deserved it. “But their killers are gone. My mission is complete.” He pulled me closer. “And I’m right where I need to be. With you.”

My tears mixed with the rain. I knew Mitchell wasn’t free of the demons in his head. They would always be there, telling him the grave was better than breathing. But I would do my best to show him—love him more than his vices ever could.

“We gotta go. We’re meeting the realtor in an hour.” His eyes trailed from mine to my chest, which the rain soaked through my shirt making it slightly transparent. I knew my nipples were sticking out through the soaked material and my bra. “And I have plans with you before we go meet her.”

Just another promise he kept. When Hex lifted my restrictions, my legs were wobbling for a whole other reason.

After I shot Volt, I told Mitchell I didn’t want to be there anymore. I couldn’t walk into that house, knowing I took another man’s life, even if he deserved it. It would be a constant reminder of what I’d done, even though he deserved worse than the swift death I gave him. Mitchell shrugged like it was nothing and the next day, his house was on the market.

Darrell told us there was a place close to him—his neighbors suspiciously put a for sale sign up when I told him about our plans to move. I asked if he had anything to do with that, but he just shrugged innocently, pretending not to know what I was talking about.

I walked out of his office that day with a smile at his attempt to have me close to him.

More than likely, he would get his wish. To have his daughter close to him.

“How’re you feeling?” My lips turned up at Darrell’s question. He was genuinely concerned with my well-being after I killed Volt. He checked on me daily, even if some days I found it overbearing; I knew he was trying. He claimed he didn’t know how to be a dad, but he was doing better than he thought.

My nightmares were the same every night. Volt laying there, bleeding out from the bullet wound I gave him. I always woke up the same way, with frantic breathing to the point Mitchell had to hold me until I could breathe normally. He would whisper in my ear that it was a nightmare, and that I was alive and he was here. Even through his comforting words, it took a while for me to calm down. I didn’t want to worry him about my lack of sleep, but the black tint around my eyes told a story I couldn’t hide. “Things are getting better.”

“And Courtney?” My heart still hurt thinking about her abandoning me again. I wish she left me with words, not a hand-written letter. She ran away when I needed her the most during my recovery. I tried not to be bitter, but a part of me would always be. “I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you about her leaving.”

“Her life never had me in it.” My tone still held bitterness, my chest uncomfortable with reliving her leaving my life for good this time. “She has a new family, a new life that doesn’t include me.” I wish she wanted me too, though.

Sympathy flooded his features, along with a tinge of remorse that’s been there since the truth came out. I knew he felt guilty, would always feel guilty about giving up his rights to me as a baby. “You want her to be your mom, too.”

I slowly nodded, eyes burning. I did, I really did. My only mother figure in life turned out to be a woman who used me for their evil gains—something I didn’t do but also something I would never forgive myself for. I had no one to look up to now.

“I know she loves you.” My head snapped to his, a small smile gracing his lips as his eyes looked far off in a memory. “When she was pregnant, at the beginning, she was always talkin’ to her stomach. It wasn’t until…”

Until her addiction took over that she stopped.

He didn’t have to say it for me to know what he was trying to say. He held a lot of guilt for how my life turned out—what it could have potentially been if Mitchell didn’t get involved in my life. “I’ll try to make it up for the both of us.”

I had to stop the laugh that threatened to escape. She didn’t love me; she didn’t plan to keep in contact, even when Darrell flew her out. I’m not even sure why she would fly out and tease a potential relationship between us—that was more cruel than her just saying she wanted nothing to do with me. That would’ve been hard to hear, but easier to deal with.

“There’s nothing to make up for.” My words were honest because there was nothing he could do or say that would be worse than what Volt had in store for me. I was just thankful I was found in time, even if the way I was brought into the Souls’ way of life was unorthodox. Darrell, at the beginning, was a man who was on a mission unknown by all… finding me.

He found me, and like Victoria said, his wish had been answered. My lips tilted at the necklace around his neck—the one that matched mine, which I wore proudly. We didn’t hide it under our clothes anymore.

He stood from his desk, walking over to me and before I could talk myself out of it, I threw my arms around Darrell. I felt his body tense under my touch. He was hesitant for a moment, but then I felt it—his arms shot around me, pulling me to him as tight as he could.

“This is the first time I’ve ever held you,” he admitted as he tried to hold me tighter. I swear I felt some moisture on the top of my head. “It was worth the wait.”

Tears filled my eyes as I let my dad, my real dad, hold me tightly. His touch felt much different than Volt’s. I was conditioned to feel Volt’s outdated version of love, but with Darrell… I felt it. I held him tighter.

“I’m so glad I found you, Dad.” He flinched when the word slipped from my mouth, but it felt right. Calling him Darrell felt so foreign to me now. In this new life, as Nyla Moore, the changes were constant, but they were the right ones.

And if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was crying at me calling him dad for the first time.

“Me too, baby girl.” His voice was hoarse, overwhelmed with emotion that was spreading toward me, making my eyes water. “Me, too.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted us, but we didn’t let each other go. Mitchell walked in, his face softening seeing our embrace. He was encouraging our growing relationship. “Just lettin’ ya know my meeting starts in an hour.”

Mitchell was keeping true to his word that he was going to get help. I’ve seen the struggle in his eyes, the far away looks. It hasn’t been easy between us lately with his withdrawals, but Dad’s been close by to keep him straight like he did when Mitchell got sober after his mom and sister’s deaths. “I’ll go with you—”

“I love you for that, but I don’t want you there.” That shot straight through my heart. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I don’t want you to see me like you did. That was a low point for me, and I never want to repeat in front of you.”

I knew what he was talking about. He was talking about me walking in on him with a syringe full of poison up his arm—just another nightmare I was working through. He wanted to keep that part of himself separate, but I wanted all of him, the good and the bad. But I had to pick and choose my battles, and this was one I was going to let him win since it was important for his recovery. “I’m proud of you, Mitchell.”

“I’m proud of you too, brother. But I’ll be going with you to that meeting.” Dad left no room for him to argue, and I felt better knowing he wasn’t going alone. “Got a session with Victoria yet?”

“Yeah. Next week.” Victoria? What did she have to do with anything? He scratched the back of his blond hair. “That’s something I would like for you to go with me, Nyla.”

“Why do you have an appointment with Victoria?”

“Can’t exactly go to a shrink to talk shit out without us ending up behind bars. Victoria’s a licensed therapist.” Darrell looked proud of that. “Graduated a few years back.”

I hoped he and Victoria could work through things. Before the truth was discovered, there was a noticeable shift. Things between us have been great and things between her and Dad have been a little better, though still slightly strained. I wouldn’t feel comfortable talking to a stranger about everything that went down anyway, and Victoria was so easy to talk to.

“I figured you could talk to someone, too… about everything.” I was struggling lately with nightmares of killing Volt, Leela’s basement, finding Clarissa, and the thought of losing Mitchell still lingered heavily on my mind. It was like they were consuming me, waking me—and Mitchell—up multiple times a night.

“I—”

“I think it’d be good for you, Ny,” Dad gently cut me off, trying not to offend me. He’s been doing that a lot lately—treading lightly and trying not to overstep. “Thinkin’ maybe we could go together. We have some stuff we need to work out.”

That was an understatement. We had almost twenty-three years of things to work out. It was going fine, but navigating our feelings with a professional might be beneficial for us. Maybe it would make mine, Dad’s, and Victoria’s relationships stronger. “I’d like that, Dad.”

His smile told me he wasn’t ever gonna get used to me calling him that. His face lit up every time I did. He coughed his emotion away. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come get me when you’re ready to leave, Grim.”

Mitchell nodded as Dad passed him, and he walked over to me, grinning. He snagged my hips, pulling me to him. “I got you all to myself.”

I smiled back at him, standing on my tiptoes to snake my arms around his neck. “What do you have in mind?”

I squealed as he picked me up, his forearm brushing all the stuff off Darrell’s desk—which, I’m sure Mitchell would hear about later. “I got a few ideas.”

I couldn’t stop my laugh as Mitchell’s lips attacked mine, his kisses relentless on my neck. His hand trailed from my hip to the underside of my neck, pausing his actions.

Sympathy flushed through me; I knew what he was doing.

“I’m here Mitchell.” I made my voice as comforting as I could as I placed my hand over his, knowing he woke up in the dead of the night just to feel my pulse and make sure I was alive. That Volt’s bullet didn’t kill me like intended. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know that.” His voice was a mix of desperation and relief, mixing in a way that made his tone raspy with uncertainty. “I just have to make sure this isn’t a dream.”

“It’s not.” I sat up, trying to conceal the phantom pain from the bullet and surgery Hex performed on me. If Mitchell noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Fuck me and prove to yourself this isn’t a dream.”

He didn’t have to be told twice as he laid me out on dad’s desk, clear from any obstructions since Mitchell pushed everything off his desk which I’m sure he’d hear about later.

“Don’t have a lot of time.” He grumbled, unfastening his belt. Leaving his jeans undone as he grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants, pulling them down to my knees his eyes entranced with the view between my legs. “Love seein’ this pretty cunt of yours, love fuckin’ even more though.”

My rebuttal was lost as his fingers tampered with the hole, teasing the opening with pressure making my hips write on the wood of the desk. His thumb shot out and soothed his teasing as it circled my clit. My arms shot out, grabbing his forearm as he leaned over the desk slipping in two fingers as he did so. I put a hand over my mouth, trying to hide my cries from the members of the Souls gathered in the next room.

“This room is soundproof,” Mitchell explained as he stretched me with his fingers. “So let those pretty moans out for me to hear. And I want to hear them.”

My hand slipped from my lips, another mixed mewl leaving my lips as he twisted his fingers inside of me; the rough texture of his knuckles leaving behind an addicting feeling at it brushed walls.

The pressure is building, the stars he made me accustomed to seeing within reach. My legs began to quicker with each quickened stroke, my eyes locked on his. His neck was strained, waiting for me to release on his fingers. My mouth parted as that dam broke inside of me, his fingers soaking with my essence.

“I was just kiddin’ by the way.” He withdrew his fingers, guiding them towards my mouth as the other hand pushed his stiffened cock free of the constraints of his boxers. Hands gripping the back of my knees before he lifted them to his shoulders, my sweatpants looped around and keeping my legs locked there. “This room isn’t soundproof.”

My breath hitched. “Mitchell—!”

He used that opportunity with my open mouth to stick his fingers in, refusing to remove them. “There, somethin’ to pacify you. Don’t want you embarrassed when I’m making you come all over your dads desk.”

Knowing I already lost the battle, my lips tightened around his digits giving a hard suck as he groaned at the sensation, not taking his eyes off my tongue dancing around him as he lined himself up with my entrance. The tip hit the hole of my entrance and I would never get over the feeling of his cock stretching me, taking him inch by inch until the hilt of his hips met mine. I clamped my teeth down on his fingers to not make a compromised noise.

He chuckled, a hips moving slowly in the form of shallowed thrusts. “Gonna make you pay for biting me later, pretty girl.”

I hope so. His pace picked up, the legs of the wooden desk scrapping against the floor squeaking against the tile. I was flushed for another reason than Mitchell dominating me; I was embarrassed that they could hear what we were doing in here.

Darrell would have no problem killing Mitchell if he found out he was taking me against his desk, a place he sat in day in and day out.

“Guess theres no hiding what were doin’ now.” He was too lost in his moments to take our acts to another part of the office, the repeated movements of his thrusts scraping against my walls threatening to bring me to a state of bliss one more time. His jaw was tight, chords in his neck ready to snap; he looked like was at the end of holding on.

I disconnected my lips from his fingers. “Make me drip on this desk, Mitchell.”

“God.” His raspy voice cursed as his movements quicken, the legs of the desk threatening to cause a friction hole in the floor from the constant back and forth. My arms wrapped around Mitchell’s neck, the angle forcing my knees to bend more to my chest. The new position gave his cock more access to hit deeper inside of me, the head of his cock hitting a spot inside of me I didn’t know existed.

I buried my face into his shoulder, teeth biting his sleeve to stifle the cry of pleasure that escaping me. I spasmed around him as my orgasm hit me, the rush of my come on his cock pushing him over the edge as his warm spread within me. He slacked for a minute, chest heaving as he worked to catch his breath.

His moss-colored eyes were satisfied, placing a quick kiss on my lips before ducking to remove my knees from my shoulders. His tongue tracing his top lip as I felt myself spilling on the desk.

“What a pretty fuckin’ sight.” I bit my swollen lip, wanting to move out of this position since it was starting to be uncomfortable but not wanting to break up the moment. “Can’t wait to spread you like this for the rest of our lives, Nyla.”

I couldn’t believe this man was mine. We still had a lot to work through with our relationship—my forgiveness of him and his forgiveness of himself. We weren’t perfect. Our spats and disagreements were heated when it got too much for us to deal with, but at the end of the day, we knew we were worth it—to ourselves and each other to overcome the odds and hardships we were given.

We were going to make it out stronger on the other side.

Epilogue

G rim

I knocked on Darrell’s office door, knowing he was busy distracting himself. Nyla was distracted, out with the girls shopping. I wasn’t sure how much fun they could really have with V watching their every move—well, Oakley’s every move. The fucker had gotten some sort of obsession going on with Law’s shy daughter, which he absolutely loathed, but the rest of us found entertaining.

“Come in,” his gruff voice responded. As I opened the door, he looked up from the paperwork he was currently doing. I smirked, spotting the desk I’d taken Nyla on last month before my NA meeting. Prez was none the wiser at how I defiled his daughter where he was sitting. “What’cha need, Grim?”

I sat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. and he knew the conversation was going to be on the serious side—me nor any of the brothers sat to chat unless it was important. “Got something I wanted to ask ya.”

He straightened up, giving me his half-assed attention. With everything that’s happened recently, he’s gotten behind on some things. “Go on.”

“I’m gonna ask Nyla to marry me.”

This got his full attention. He set the papers in his hand on the desk, taking off his glasses as his eyes narrowed at me. “What makes you think you’re good enough for my little girl?”

“I’m not,” I said honestly. I was nowhere near close to good enough for the angel who’d become the best part of me. I couldn’t believe that rain and sorrow sent our lives in a totally new direction, a life with each other. “Nowhere near, but that’s not gonna stop me from bein’ the best damn man I can be for her.”

He leaned back in his chair, obviously not impressed with my words. Darrell’s never intimidated me, but I always cared about what he thought of me. He was a father figure ever since he picked me off the streets and sat with my depressed ass week after week in that hell they called rehab. He had told me I would hate him now, but I would thank him one day. I would never be able to thank him for a future I never thought was possible, especially a future with someone as important as his only child.

I was glad Nyla wasn’t too upset Courtney split. She honestly didn’t seem all that bothered by it, and that was only confirmed when I asked her about it last week.

We were in bed, just basking in the intimacy of each other. Hex cleared Nyla for sex, and I kept my promise at leaving her bedridden because of pleasure instead of pain. I was running my fingers through her light brown strands and asked, “How’re you feeling about your mom?”

I felt her head move from the spot on my chest to look at me. “You mean Courtney?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s not my mom,” she stated plainly, but the hurt she felt tinged her voice. “Moms are women who step up and take care of their children. All she did was give birth to me. I’m glad she’s sober now and living a good life with her new family. I don’t hold any resentment toward her anymore; she’s moving on with her life.” Nyla’s body turned, crawling up my body so her perky tits, that were confined in her tight black tank top, were flush against my chest. The smile she gave me took my breath away, just like it did every time. “And I’m moving on with mine.”

“And you’re telling me you’re gonna propose to her, why?” Darrell’s question brought me back to the present.

“Yeah, gonna ask her whether I get your blessin’ or not. I know you two are workin’ on your relationship.” Nyla may not have come into his life until recently, but they were making an effort to get to know each other. They set aside one night a week for quality time and saw each other daily. It was slow going since Nyla was setting the pace and Darrell, who was normally impatient, was respecting his daughter’s boundaries. “Figured I’d ask you out of respect for that.”

He reached up, rubbing his salt and peppered beard, studying me. “Respect the hell out of ya for coming to me, Grim. I haven’t been a dad to Nyla, so I don’t think it’s right for me to give you a blessin’.”

I shook my head; he was still punishing himself for his decision twenty-two years ago. At this point, I don’t think he’d ever fully forgive himself, even though Nyla already has. “Nyla’s been tellin’ me about ya.”

His eyes lit up in a way I’ve never seen before—anyone could see just how much Nyla meant to him. “What’s she been sayin’?”

I would’ve laughed at his out of character interest if the conversation wasn’t serious. “She’s been sayin’ how nice it is to have you in her life. That you’re more of a father than he ever was.” Volt’s name was a banned word in our clubhouse. We were to refer to him as he or not at all. His face darkened at the mention of Nyla’s adoptive father, but he remained calm. “Told me how therapy with Victoria has been goin’. Been making some steady steps forward.”

“She’s my little girl. Having her in my life and being able to be a father to her is the greatest joy. Makes all the dark days worth it to be with her.”

Nyla made everything in my fucked-up life worth it. “We’ve come a long way, Prez.”

“Don’t think we can stop goin’ to meetings.” I already knew that. Prez didn’t just go with me for the fuck of it, he’s been struggling lately, too. He didn’t give into the temptation like I did, but it was getting harder for him to resist with all the stress that’s been thrusted at him. Just because Nyla helped the urges didn’t mean she stopped them all together. The urge was always going to around, no matter how loved we were.

Addiction was a terrible disease.

“I know, and so does she. She wants us to continue to get help and stay accountable.”

He considered my words before standing from his chair, reaching his hand across his desk. “I give you my blessin’. Just know, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you, VP or not.”

I stood before meeting him halfway, shaking his hand. “I’ll gladly let you do whatever you need to do to defend your little girl, Prez.” I let go of his hand before I asked, “How’s Victoria handling this?”

He sighed, rubbing his face. His denial about how he felt about Victoria was nothing short of bullshit. She knew him better than he knew himself. The way his eyes sought her out first in a room didn’t go unnoticed, either. But I noticed a shift since that night the truth about Nyla came out. “Better than I’ll ever deserve.”

Victoria was a badass, confident woman who claimed she didn’t need a man—besides Darrell, apparently. She took care of us better than our mommas ever did, and without her, this clubhouse honestly would’ve been burnt down a few times. She cared for all of us, but noticeably put more care into her actions with Darrell. Happy as hell that Nyla didn’t change her feelings for him like I knew it would for most women. She’d probably kick my ass just for even thinking that, though. She wasn’t your typical woman… she was way better.

“What you did for Nyla when she was born was nothing short of admirable. I know when I first heard the truth, I was a dick about it, but defending Nyla came first—still does. But you’re one of the best men I know, Prez. Sacrificing your soul to give your daughter what you couldn’t? Dunno a better father than that.”

He coughed away his emotions. I tried to suppress my laugh by coughing into my fist, but he seen through the failed attempt. “Get the fuck outta my office, Grim.”

Same ol’ Prez, couldn’t handle his emotions like the rest of the brothers here. “Last time you’re seeing me as a single man. Sure you don’t want more time with me?”

“I hope she says no.” “And I’m getting a new office that’ll be funded solely by you; furniture and all.”

Laughing, I walked out of the office. I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to realize I fucked Nyla on his desk, the thousands it was going to cost me a small price to pay at doing such a degraded act.

Nerves coursed through me. She was going to say yes, because just like we first met and I didn’t give her a choice about a date, I wasn’t giving her a choice to be chained to me until our dying breaths. Making my way to the main room of the clubhouse, I found it was empty besides Tyrant and Knight playing a round of pool, probably plotting their next heist. Those two were always up to no good when they were together. Usually, I would go shoot the shit with them, but not today. Had more important things to do today.

“Hey, Grim!” Tyrant’s loud voice echoed off the walls of the clubhouse. “Where you goin’?”

I turned my head to the side, grinning bigger than they’ve ever seen. “To start my future.”

I stood in front of their graves for the first time since their passing, my strength standing right beside me. I swore I felt the air around me shift, clinging to me like a comforting veil. It was choking me up—it felt like the hugs Mom used to give me.

“Hey Mom, Mallory. Sorry I’ve been too much of a pussy to visit. I couldn’t face you, knowing what happened to you was caused by me. I never forgave myself, and I don’t think I ever will.” I didn’t have to look at Nyla to know she had a disapproving look on her face. Instead, I placed the flowers Nyla told me to get for them all those months ago on their graves.

“I’m Nyla,” she introduced herself, the simple action warming me to the bones. “I wish I got to meet you, but Mitchell’s told me so much about you. But you can rest. I’ll take good care of him. I promise.”

God, I felt like a pussy with the amount of emotions Nyla was making me feel. I wasn’t used to feeling anything besides devoid or faking something to get what I wanted. Also wasn’t used to caring about someone—loving someone as much as I loved her, even going as far as to worry about her in my sleep.

My sleep was shit before I met Nyla, but after she got shot, it was even worse. I stayed up late and woke up early just to make sure she was breathing, even though that the living nightmare Volt put us through was nothing but a distant memory. Nyla’s caught me staying up late sometimes, always giving me a smile saying she was alive. I didn’t believe her until I felt her pulse, proving to me that she was.

I lived, breathed, and died for Nyla and only Nyla.

“I love you, Mom, Mallory.” I sucked in a shaky breath, placing the red poppy flowers we got from Poppy Oak’s on their graves. “I’m going to try to make you proud, be better than who I was back then.”

“You already have,” Nyla whispered, laying her head on my arm. “Don’t you feel them?”

I couldn’t deny the warm, calming feeling that still surrounded us. The comfort of it seeping into my skin, the wind whispering, “We forgive you, now live.”

I breathed deeply in my nose, exhaling, thinking about the times before my addiction took over my every move. We were happy, living. I was going to get back to that with Nyla… And as long as I kept them in my heart, they would never truly be gone.

We made our way over to the oak tree where Nyla shielded me from the rain months ago, the place where our forever started. I looked at the tree, my eyes softening at the M+N we carved into the bark. Having your beginning start in the place where people’s lives ended was odd, but our relationship wasn’t exactly normal.

Back then it was just me, but now it was going to be us.

I removed myself from Nyla’s hands, and she looked confused since when we were together, I always made sure we touched. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the same pocketknife I used to carve our initials into our tree.

A smile tugged on the corner of her mouth, watching as I carved something around our initials. “Why are you putting a heart around our initials?”

I stepped back, admiring my work before walking over to her. Her eyes were still slightly dull from all the trauma she’d faced lately, but still shone when she saw me. I leaned down, lips pressing into her forehead. “This is the place you stole my heart, something that’d kill me if you ever gave it back.”

I felt her sharp intake of breath, and moving my body away from hers ,I stepped back, taking in her confusion. Nerves built inside me, doing something I never thought I’d get the chance to do. “I don’t deserve you in any way, and I never will.”

“Mitchell—”

I put up a hand, signaling her to stop. “I sat under this tree every day for twelve years, watching over their graves to protect them at the expense of myself. I would do it all over again, because my sins led me to you. God didn’t bring you to me to punish me; He brought you to me to save me and so I could save you.”

Her eyes began to water as I knelt on one knee, presenting her with simple ring with a ruby in the center—red, the color of our love for each other. “You made me want to live again, Nyla.”

I felt a breath I didn’t know I was holding when I saw her head bob up and down. “Yes.”

I laughed. “I didn’t even ask—”

“I don’t care. It’s yes, it’ll always be yes.”

I jumped off the ground, sliding the ring onto her finger before slamming my mouth to my fiancée’s lips. She would always feel like home to me—a place I knew I belonged, no matter how many times I fucked up. I pulled back briefly, seeing the tears fall from her silver eyes. “Ready to start our lives, pretty girl?”

Through trembling lips, she smiled at me. “I can’t wait to start all over with you, Mitchell.”

Our lips met again, sealing the bond between our souls.

Not even six months ago, I was planning my death.

And now, we were planning our future.

“Joslyn.” She turned to look at Prez from her seat at the bar. “It’s time.”

She suddenly looked nervous, but a promise was a promise. She exhaled a shaky breath before asking, “When?”

“Bloods got a party next weekend. Do whatever you can to get invited.” She dipped her chin, which signaled a growl from Sarge. His growls always sounded more menacing since you couldn’t see his face. “Sarge, we discussed this. She’s our best chance at getting information from them.”

“Don’t care,” he snapped. “She’s gonna get hurt.”

Joslyn stood, daring to walk over to Sarge and stopped right in front of him—something not even our enemies were dumb enough to do, but Sarge was different with the slip of a woman standing in front of him with a smile. “I’ll be okay. You’ll be close by, right?”

The room went still, awaiting Sarge’s answer. His uncanny behavior was a hot topic amongst the brothers, and something Sarge brushed off. He didn’t let us in any capacity of his life, and this was no different.

“Yeah,” he grunted. Joslyn rewarded him with a smile, and I wished he let his hood down so we could see his reaction. He hasn’t paid attention to any woman since I’ve known him, unless it was for questioning.

“I’ll be okay, then.” Her smile was soft. “You’ve watched me all this time, and I trust you to protect me in case anything does happen.”

He didn’t respond, just kept his head pointed in her direction. When she knew he wasn’t going to say anything back to her, she turned and looked at Prez, determination plastered on her face. “Let’s do this.”

THE END

Coming November:

In the Light of Sin

Sarge and Joslyn’s story.

Pre-order on Amazon: My Book

Add to TBR on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/179943758-in-the-light-of-sin

Acknowledgments

I can’t even describe this feeling of getting a book our into the world and for everyone who decided to take this wild ride with me. I hope you enjoyed Mitchell and Nyla’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

There’s a whole list of people I want to thank, and I don’t want to leave anyone out. But you know who you are. Thanks for the encouragement. For telling me just write. Listen to me cry, on the verge of giving up but telling me to keep at it because my dream would always remain that; just a dream if I didn’t even try.

So, thank you. You don’t know how much your encouragement means to me.

Now onto the next challenge, to make you fall in love with a grumpy, faceless hero and his sunshine, florist girl.

Hope to see you next book!

About the Author

Juniper Nyx was born and raised in the Midwest, being surrounded by nothing but empty cornfields and her imagination. She decided to put that imagination to paper, but accidentally spilled too much ink and the romance she was writing turned dark. Her lines of morality have been blurred ever since.

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Dedication

Playlist

Introduction

Prologue

1. Nyla

2. Nyla

3. Nyla

4. Nyla

5. Nyla

6. Mitchell

7. Nyla

8. Nyla

9. Nyla

10. Grim

11. Nyla

12. Nyla

13. Mitchell

14. Nyla

15. Mitchell

16. Nyla

17. Nyla

18. Mitchell

19. Nyla

20. Mitchell

21. Nyla

22. Mitchell

23. Nyla

24. Mitchell

25. Mitchell

26. Nyla

27. Mitchell

28. Nyla

29. Mitchell

30. Nyla

31. Nyla

32. Nyla

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author