Chapter 28
Heresy
The soft glow of the bedside lamp barely lit the room, but it was enough to catch the sight of Diana sprawled out on the bed, snoring like she didn't have a care in the world. Her hair was a mess, almost hiding her face. She was rough around the edges, sure, but there was no denying she could hold her own. The kind of woman who didn't need no one looking out for her.
So, why was I?
But as I sat there, watching her, my mind drifted to someone else. Someone with wild hair and those piercing green eyes that had a way of seeing right through me—Salem. I clenched my fists, trying to push her face outta my head. I had a job to do, but damn if she wasn't in my head all the same.
In the morning, the roar of my bike was steady under me, the one thing that kept me grounded as the miles blurred by. Diana was behind me, arms loosely wrapped around my waist like dead weight. To anyone watching, it might've looked like we were something—a couple riding off into the sunset. But nah, that was far from the truth.
This wasn't no joyride. Hell, this was punishment, plain and simple.
The brothers made sure I paid for crossing the line, for mixing with the Hell on Heelz when I should’ve stayed far away.
Salem came into the picture, and my world flipped on its damn head. That woman got her claws into me without even trying, and now I couldn't shake her. Every time I closed my eyes, there she was—curly hair, sharp tongue, looking at me like she could see every dark corner of my soul.
I should’ve kept my distance. Should’ve known better.
Diana hadn't said much during the ride, and that suited me just fine. Her silence matched the emptiness in my chest. My mind kept looping back to Salem, wondering what she was up to, who she was with, whether she was closer to earning her patch. Hell, I didn’t need any more distractions, and I definitely didn’t need Diana yapping about nothing that mattered.
We pulled up to a rundown warehouse just outside of Boston, the Asphalt Gods’ MC territory. This wasn't just my punishment from Cutter and his secret fraction of Slayers. My President Riptide had sent me on an errand, a little business with the Gods to keep his new alliance secure. Funny how neither side seemed to trust me to keep my head straight, not with all that went down.
Diana slid off the bike the second I killed the engine, stretching her legs like she'd been riding for days. I caught her eye for a second—those sly eyes always hiding something. Her man had just gotten outta prison, and she was buzzing with excitement to see him. I could respect that. Loyalty was rare as hell these days.
“Thanks for the ride,” she muttered, not quite meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to come in. He’ll be glad to see me alone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I grunted, more than happy to stay the hell out of whatever reunion she had planned.
She hesitated, like there was something more she wanted to say, but whatever it was, she swallowed it down and headed toward the door. Her man stood there, a shadow in the doorway, watching me like he was judging my worth. Good. Let him.
The second she disappeared inside, I fired up my Harley again, eager to get the hell outta Boston and back on the road. My business with the Asphalt Gods was done, and I had no intention of hanging around longer than I had to.
But no matter how fast I rode, my thoughts kept drifting back to Salem. That woman had turned my life upside down, and now she was all I could think about.
Halfway back to Florida, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled over, killing the engine, already expecting it to be something from the club. But when I pulled the phone out and saw the name on the screen, my gut twisted.
Cutter.
I hesitated. I’d already let him know Diana was safe and sound with her felon, so what the hell did he want now? Reluctantly, I answered.
“Heresy,” Cutter's voice came through the line, sharp and dangerous. “You got some explaining to do, brother.”
My pulse spiked. “What’s this about?”
“You been keepin’ secrets?” Cutter’s tone was accusing, and I didn’t like where this was heading. “Word’s goin' around that you knocked up one of the Heelz.”
The world stopped for a second, and I gripped the phone so tight I thought it’d crack. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me.” His voice was filled with that nasty undertone that told me this was serious. “Salem. People are talkin', sayin' she’s pregnant—and it’s your kid.”
My mind raced, trying to piece together what he was saying. Pregnant? Salem? I hadn’t seen her in over a month, and when I had, she’d been pushing me away at every turn.
“I don’t know what you heard,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my mind was spiraling.
Cutter snorted, disbelief all over it. “You better get your shit together. If this gets out—and it’s true—you know what happens. We don’t mix with the Heelz, and if you’ve got a kid comin' with one of ‘em? That’s a whole new world of shit, brother.”
The line went dead, leaving me sitting there, staring at the empty road ahead. My heart was hammering in my chest.
Salem. Pregnant. My kid.
The ride back to Florida just got a whole lot more complicated.