Chapter 15
Rowan
The lines of text in my pharmacology book swim before my eyes as I flip to the next page.
Ten more drug interactions to memorize before I can call it a night.
The clubhouse bar provides decent lighting, and the background music isn't too distracting. The truth is, I’m tired of the solitude of Chaos’s room.
Two prospects play pool in the corner, their cues clicking against the balls in a steady rhythm.
A few patched members lounge on couches watching some sports game, a small cluster of cut sluts are gabbing in the corner, but other than that, the place is mostly empty.
Most of the guys are either at work or handling whatever mysterious "club business" keeps Chaos away tonight.
I take another sip of my Coke.
The thought of him sends a flutter through my stomach. The memory of our time at the pond makes my cheeks heat. I still can't believe we had sex in a public place. Well, almost public. And it was fun. Exhilarating.
From across the room, Kandi throws another death glare my way.
She perches on a barstool, her micro-mini riding up to show the entirety of her tanned thighs, twirling a strand of platinum blonde hair between her fingers.
I meet her gaze steadily, refusing to look away first. A week ago, her hostility would have made me shrink into myself. Now? I just feel sorry for her.
Sensing a presence next to me, I look up from my textbook. Fiend slides onto the barstool next to mine, his hair falling loosely around his shoulders.
"Studying hard?" He nods toward my textbook.
"Trying to." I mark my place with a highlighter. "Not sure how much is actually sticking at this point."
"Chaos said you're a smart one.” His eyes scan my notes. "Going to be some kind of pharmacist, right?"
"That's the goal." I stretch my arms above my head, working out the kink in my shoulder from hunching over. "Though at this rate, I might be my grandmother’s age by the time I finish."
Fiend's mouth quirks in a half-smile. "Actually, that's why I came over. Chaos called, said you can go see your grandmother tonight."
My heart leaps. "Really? When did he say that?"
"Just now." Fiend gestures to his phone. "Said I need to take you and stay with you the whole time."
I chew my bottom lip. "That's...surprising. He's been so adamant about me not leaving."
"Well, now you've got me as your personal bodyguard." He shrugs, glancing at his watch. "But if you want to go, we gotta head out now to make visiting hours.”
"Let me just text Chaos real quick—” I reach for my phone, then realize it's not in my pocket. Where is it? I pick up my textbook and notebook, looking under them, then scan the floor. Where the hell is my phone? I swear I had it…
I texted Chaos not long ago.
Fiend's eyes follow my movements. "We don't have much time. Visiting hours, remember?"
"I know, but—"
"Look." He holds up his phone, showing me a text.
Take Rowan to see Grams. Stay with her at all times.
My heart races with excitement. A week feels like forever when you're worried about someone you love. “I’m so happy. He's been so strict about me staying put."
"That's why I'm going with you." Fiend stands, jingling his keys. "I'll be glued to your side the whole time, don't worry."
Ten minutes later, we're in a club truck, pulling out of the compound. The guard at the gate nods to Fiend, barely glancing at me in the passenger seat. I fidget with the sleeve of my jacket, a strange nervousness twisting my stomach.
I've never spent much time alone with Fiend. He's always been polite enough, but distant—not warm like Zeus or intimidating-but-kind like Demon. There's something closed-off about him that makes me uneasy.
"I really appreciate this," I say, breaking the silence as we drive through the industrial area surrounding the compound. "I've been so worried about Grams."
"Zeus said she's doing well at the new place." Fiend keeps his eyes on the road, one hand draped over the steering wheel. "Better care, better food."
"That's what he told me too." I smile, remembering Zeus's animated description of dancing to big band tunes with Grams. "I can't thank Chaos enough for moving her there."
We lapse into silence again. I watch the streets pass by. I’m fairly certain I know where the new facility is located, but we should have turned left three blocks ago.
"Um, I think we missed the turn," I say, pointing back. "Shouldn't we have gone that way?"
Fiend's knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. "Taking a different route. Security precaution."
That makes sense, but something about his tone sets off warning bells in my head. We keep driving, moving further from the city center. The buildings grow sparser, the streets darker.
"This seems like a really roundabout way." I try to keep my voice casual. “You do know where the care home is, right? Sunrise Manor?”
"You questioning my sense of direction?" He flashes a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Typical woman, always thinking men need to ask for directions or they’ll get lost.”
I force a laugh, but it comes out strained. "Fair enough."
The truck picks up speed, and we merge onto the highway heading south—definitely not toward Sunrise Manor Care Facility. My pulse quickens. This isn't right.
"Fiend?" I keep my voice steady despite the panic clawing at my throat. "I think we're going the wrong way. Sunrise Manor is on the west side."
His laugh is hollow. "We're not going to Sunrise Manor."
The words drop like stones in the quiet cab.
"What do you mean? Where are we going?" I slide closer to the door, fingers wrapping around the handle.
"Don't try it." His voice has an edge to it now, sharp and cold, as his eyes flick to my hand on the door. "We're going seventy miles an hour. Jump out now, and you'll be road pizza."
Fear roils my stomach. I slowly move my hand away from the door, mind racing. "Fiend, what's going on? Did something happen to my grandmother?"
"Your grandmother is fine." His face changes, something dark and bitter settling across his features. "This isn't about her."
"Then what is it about?" I hate how my voice sounds shaky and small.
He doesn't answer immediately. The truck barrels down the highway, putting more distance between us and the city with each passing minute. Trees replace buildings on either side of the road, the darkness outside deepening.
"I fucked up, Rowan." His voice cracks slightly. "I fucked up so bad there's no coming back from it."
"What? W-what are you talking about?"
"It started with one bad night at the blackjack tables." He stares straight ahead, like he's talking to himself more than to me. "Fifteen grand down. I figured I'd win it back next time, so I borrowed a bit—just a bit. But next time I lost thirty more."
My mind whirls, trying to understand what this has to do with me, with where we're going. "Fiend—"
"Before I knew it, I was fifty grand in the hole to people you don't want to owe money to.
" His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
"I needed cash fast. Then this guy approaches me at a poker game.
Says he knows who I am, knows I'm Renegade Kings.
Says he'll give me seventy-five grand for some information about club operations. "
The pieces click together with sickening clarity. "You sold information to the cartel?”
"Just small stuff at first. Nothing important.” His voice has a pleading quality now. "Shipment schedules, protection routes. Nothing that would get anyone hurt. Just enough to pay off my debts."
"But it didn't stop there."
"No." He swallows hard. "They kept coming back, offering more money. And I... I kept taking it."
We exit the highway onto a smaller road, trees crowding close on either side. My heart hammers against my ribs. "Why are you telling me this? Where are you taking me?"
"I never meant for anyone to get hurt." His eyes flash with what looks almost like genuine remorse. "Tank and Biggy—that wasn't supposed to happen. I didn’t know they was gonna do that."
"You got them killed." The words taste like ashes in my mouth.
"I didn't know they'd do that!" Fiend slams his hand against the steering wheel. “Los Cuervos…they have their fucking hooks in me. I can't shake ‘em.”
The truck turns onto a gravel road, trees giving way to scrubby brush. In the far distance, I can see the moon reflecting off the water. Lake Erie, I realize with growing dread.
"Fiend.” I try to keep my voice from shaking. "Whatever's happening, we can fix it. Just take me back to the compound. We'll talk to Chaos—"
"Chaos." He spits the name. “Fucking Chaos."
"He'll listen. He's fair—"
"Fair?" Fiend's laugh is harsh, brittle. "You have no idea what he’d do to me. What the club does to traitors. There's a reason no one crosses the Renegade Kings."
The truck slows as we approach what looks like an overlook. A cliff edge that juts out over the lake. There should be a guardrail or something here. Why isn’t there a guardrail for safety?
"I think they're onto me." Fiend's voice drops to almost a whisper. "There's a nurse at the hospital. She heard Biggy name me as a rat before he died. Her supervisor is dating a cartel soldier and passed the information along."
"So you're running," I state the obvious, desperately trying to keep him talking while I search for a way out.
"Not yet." He parks the truck near the cliff edge, the headlights illuminating the empty stretch of land.
“I don’t understand. Where do I come in? What does kidnapping me accomplish?"
"You're not being kidnapped." His voice is terrifyingly gentle but scarily eerie. "I brought you here so I can dump your body somewhere it won't be found for a while.”
A chill runs through me. “But why? Why me? Is it because I can identify Tank and Biggy's killers?"
He shakes his head. "Those guys were just cartel soldiers, easily dispensable. No, this is about Chaos."
"Chaos?"
"Losing you will destroy him." Fiend's eyes hold something like pity mixed with conviction and cruel desperation. "Knock him off his game. Throw the whole club off balance while they're hunting for you.”
I shake my head, a desperate laugh escaping my lips. "You've got it all wrong. Chaos and I—we've only known each other a week. He'll be upset, sure, but—"
"You really don't see it, do you?" Fiend studies my face. "That man is head over heels, completely gone for you. I've known him fifteen years, and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."
My heart constricts painfully. "You're wrong."
"I'm not." His hand moves to his waistband, pulling out a gun. "And that's why this has to happen."
The sight of the weapon freezes my blood. "Fiend, no. Please don't do this."
He turns to face me, his expression bizarrely placid. "I'm sorry. I truly am. But I need to make Chaos and the club sloppy while I try to clean up my mess. Hell, I won’t be surprised if he declares war on Los Cuervos. I can picture him going off half-cocked, guns blazing.”
The words hang in the air between us as I struggle to breathe, to think.
"Get out." He nods toward my door.
"Fiend—"
He points the gun directly at my face. "Out. "
With trembling hands, I open the door and step out into the crisp night air. Wind whips across the overlook, carrying the scent of the lake below. Fiend circles the truck, gun trained on me the entire time.
"Walk to the edge." He gestures toward the cliff’s edge with the barrel of his gun.
My legs feel like lead as I comply, each step bringing me closer to my doom. Beyond the edge is a steep drop. Jagged rocks jut from the water far below, moonlight glinting off their sharp edges. The drop must be at least a hundred feet.
Tears blur my vision as I stare into the abyss. In my mind, I see Chaos—his intense eyes, the way his face softens when he looks at me, his hands gentle despite his strength. I think of my grandmother. Of the dreams I had, of finishing school, of building a life.
"Turn around." Fiend's command cuts through my thoughts.
I obey, facing him. The gun is leveled at me now.
A muscle twitches in his jaw. "If it helps, I’m gonna shoot you first. You'll be dead before you hit the ground. If not, those rocks down there will finish you off.”
A strange calm settles over me. If these are my final moments, I refuse to spend them begging or crying. I straighten my spine, look him directly in the eye.
Something flickers across Fiend's face—doubt, maybe even fear. But it's gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by grim determination as he thumbs off the safety.
"Close your eyes," he demands.
I don't. Because, fuck him. If death is coming for me tonight, I'll face it with my eyes wide open. In the distance, I hear something—a faint rumble. A motorcycle. Multiple motorcycles. And they’re getting louder.
Fiend hears it too. His head jerks toward the sound, momentary panic crossing his features before his face hardens again.
"Looks like we're out of time." He steps closer, pressing the gun barrel against my forehead. "Goodbye, Rowan."
I close my eyes then, not from fear, but because I don't want Fiend's face to be the last thing I see. Instead, I picture Chaos, his blue-green eyes, the way he calls me "sweetheart" in that deep, rumbling voice.
The engines grow louder. Too late. They'll be too late.