Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE HOURS DRAGGED by and the noise of the clubhouse settled into an eerie stillness as the night wore on. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for Bolt. He’d said he’d come by after he got back, but now the clock ticked past three, and still no sign of him.
My mind spun with thoughts of our dance together, of the way his arms had felt around me, of the promise in his eyes when he’d looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. I was surprised at how much I wanted to be with him, how good sex felt, the way he made my body come to life. But the more time passed, the more doubt started to creep in.
Where was he? I could have sworn I heard the roar of bikes roll in hours ago.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I slipped out of my room, padding quietly down the hallway, the clubhouse nearly silent except for the distant sound of muffled laughter and the occasional clink of bottles. My stomach twisted as I made my way toward Bolt’s room. Maybe he’d just fallen asleep. Maybe he was drunk. There had to be an explanation.
But when I reached his door and opened it slowly, what I saw knocked the air out of my lungs.
Jenny was draped over him, her naked body half on top of his as he lay on the bed, naked, his eyes barely open, his expression sleepy—groggy—hungover? Something about it didn’t feel right. None of it did, but then what was cheating supposed to look like? The sick feeling in my gut tightened, my pulse thundering in my ears as I stood frozen in the doorway, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Then my eyes went to the used condom on the floor by the bed and I let out a little cry of pain. That was a confirmation he had sex with her.
Bolt blinked up at me, his eyes heavy, his movements sluggish. “Fiona...?”
I felt the ground shift beneath me, my chest tightening with a pain so sharp I thought I might have been stabbed. “Why... why would you do this?”
Jenny stared at me, a smug smile playing on her lips as she adjusted herself on the bed, rubbing up against Bolt like a cat in heat, like she had every right to be there, and I guess she did. My heart pounded in my chest, anger and hurt crashing through me until I thought I would drown.
Bolt seemed to be struggling to sit up, his movements slow, like he couldn’t quite get his bearings. The only answer was he was drunk.
“Fiona, wait—this isn’t—” he slurred, but the words barely registered through the now white-hot rage pulsing in my veins.
I clenched my fists, feeling the betrayal twist like a knife in my chest. I trusted him and thought he was different. But this? Seeing him with Jenny told me I had been an idiot.
A dumb, fanciful idiot.
“Don’t,” I spat, my voice shaking with fury. “Don’t you dare try to explain this.”
I could barely breathe, the tears burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not in front of her .
“What I’m seeing is explanation enough,” I hissed, my voice breaking as I took a step back. “Stay away from me... far away from me.”
I turned on my heel, my heart breaking apart, as I stormed out of the room, my vision blurred with angry tears. Behind me, I heard Bolt’s voice, still groggy and confused, calling after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand to be near him, to see him with her.
How could he?
My mind was spinning, my chest tight with the weight of it all. I barely made it down the hall when I ran smack into someone. I stumbled back, blinking up through the haze of tears, and saw my dad standing there, his eyes narrowing as he took in my tear-streaked face.
“What the hell happened?” he growled, his voice low but very dangerous, already in kill mode.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. He didn’t need me to explain. He knew .
Without another word, Dad turned and stormed toward Bolt’s room, his boots thudding heavily on the floor. My heart seized in my chest, and before I could stop him, I heard him yell.
“Bolt! You son of a bitch!”
I froze, panic running through me as I watched my dad barrel into Bolt’s room. The sound of something crashing inside made my stomach drop, and I rushed after him, my feet moving before my brain could catch up.
When I reached the doorway, my breath hitched. Dad had Bolt pinned against the wall, his hand around his neck, ready to kill him. Bolt, still half-dazed, was struggling to catch up with what was happening, but his hands were up, trying to keep the situation from escalating.
Bolt hung there, looking lost, his chest rising and falling as he struggled against dad. I watched him, and damn, there was a part of me that felt bad for him. He looked... broken. Confused. But none of it mattered if he had gotten drunk and slept with her. Whether he remembered it didn’t make a difference to me.
It was over.
Without another word, I turned and walked out and away from Bolt. I hurried down the hall to get help. I may be done with Bolt, but that didn’t mean I wanted my dad to kill him.
WHAT THE HELL just happened?
I tried to focus and my mind scrambled to replay the last half-hour.
My head had been pounding like a motherfucker and that’s what woke me up.
The blinding ache behind my eyes throbbed with every beat of my pulse, and the world around me felt like it was moving in slow motion. I blinked, trying to clear the fog, but everything was hazy, like I was trapped in some kind of dream I couldn’t wake up from.
The room was spinning, and my body felt heavy, like it was weighed down by concrete. I tried to focus, to remember what had happened, but everything was a blur.
I’d been on the stakeout. Dragon Fire... we’d been waiting for hours and followed them. After that? We got back to the clubhouse. I remembered feeling the tension in my shoulders, the pounding headache from staring at the road for too long. I’d grabbed something for the pain... pills. It was the stuff Devil kept behind the bar. Just something to knock the edge off.
But after that?
Nothing.
I groaned, my eyes finally managing to focus on the room around me. My room. The bed. The sheets twisted beneath me. And then... the figure beside me. A woman—Fiona? Blonde hair. What the fuck?
Jenny?
My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but nothing was lining up. I blinked, staring at her, trying to figure out how the hell she ended up in my bed. My body felt paralyzed. I didn’t remember anything after those pills.
No conversation, no touch, no nothing.
I didn’t even want to imagine what Fiona was thinking right now.
My chest tightened, the memory of her standing in the doorway like a knife twisting in my gut. Her face— the look on her face —that hurt, that betrayal. She’d seen Jenny here, sprawled across me in bed, and she’d assumed the worst.
I had struggled to sit up, the movement sending a fresh wave of nausea crashing through me. I’d tried to say something. Tried to get the words out, to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like, that I didn’t even know how Jenny got here, but nothing had come out right. My mind had been too foggy, too slow. I’d watched as Fiona turned and walked out, her angry words hitting me like a death blow.
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to piece together the fragments of memory that were still coming back to me in bits and pieces. But all I could remember was taking those pills, the headache starting to fade, and then... nothing. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and now I was standing in the wreckage of something I didn’t even understand.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my movements slow and uncoordinated. Jenny stirred beside me, and I felt a fresh wave of anger roll through me. Whatever had happened—or hadn’t happened—I wasn’t about to let her play me for a fool.
“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” I growled, my voice hoarse.
Jenny stretched, her lips curling into a lazy smile like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Relax, Bolt. You needed some company, so I kept you nice and warm.”
My jaw clenched, rage simmering inside me as I struggled to keep my cool. I didn’t remember asking for company, and I sure as hell didn’t remember inviting her into my bed. “Get the fuck out.”
She pouted, clearly not expecting me to react this way. “Come on, Bolt. No need to be so mean. We had a good time—”
“ Get. The. Fuck. Out! ”
The words were sharp, cutting through whatever game she was playing. I didn’t care how she’d gotten here or what she thought had happened. I just wanted her gone, and not just from my bed, but from the clubhouse.
Jenny’s smile faltered, but she didn’t argue. She slid off the bed, picking up her clothes as she shot me one last look. “You’ll regret this, Bolt. You always come back.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My head was still spinning, my thoughts tangled in the mess of everything I’d just lost.
My heart was pounding, my throat tight with the realization that Fiona was gone. That she’d seen me with her, seen me like that, and she was never going to believe I didn’t remember.
What if I did fuck her?
I leaned forward, burying my head in my hands as the weight of it all crashed down on me. The woman I cared about, the one I’d let in, was gone. And she’d seen something I couldn’t explain. Hell, I didn’t even understand it myself.
But the worst part?
I knew there was no coming back from this. Not easily. Not with the way she’d looked at me—like I was the last person on earth she would ever trust. Like I’d betrayed her in the worst way possible.
And maybe I had? I just couldn’t fucking remember!
My head was still spinning when I heard a growl by the door. I turned just in time to see Horse standing there, his eyes immediately locking onto Jenny as she finished buttoning her shirt. His face went from confused to murderous in less than a second, the color draining from his features before a wave of red-hot fury took over.
“ Bolt, you son of a bitch ,” he growled. His voice was pure rage. “What in the fucking hell is this?”
Jenny glanced at him, her smug smile faltering for the first time as she realized what she’d gotten into. She didn’t say a word—didn’t have to. The damage was already done.
Horse’s eyes snapped to me, and I could see the betrayal, the rage, and the sheer disbelief written across his face. I barely had time to react before he was on me, his hands grabbing me, slamming me back against the wall so hard I saw stars.
“You think you can do this to my little girl?” Horse roared, his fist cocked back, ready to take my head off. “You think you can disrespect her like that and get away with it?”
I barely had time to process what was happening, my vision blurring as I tried to keep Horse from killing me. Jenny was gone—disappeared from the room like the sneaky bitch that she was. My body was still heavy, still groggy from whatever the hell I’d taken, but Horse’s anger didn’t give a shit about that. Nope, he was going to end me.
“Horse, wait!” I struggled to get the words out, but my voice was sluggish, the haze still clouding my mind. “It’s not... it’s not what it looks like.”
But Horse wasn’t listening. His fist came down, and I barely managed to duck out of the way, the punch glancing off my shoulder instead of my jaw.
“Don’t you lie to me! You fucked that bitch!” he snarled, shoving me harder against the wall. “She trusted you, Bolt. She cared about you, and you do this shit?”
The pain in his voice cut deeper than the punch. He wasn’t just angry—he was hurt. And I couldn’t even explain myself. Hell, I didn’t know what the hell had happened, but in this moment, none of that mattered.
I felt the world tilt again, my body heavy and uncooperative as Horse pressed me against the wall, his fist hovering in the air. I tried to push him off, but it was like fighting through quicksand. Nothing made sense, and the more I tried to move, the slower I felt.
Just as Horse reared back for another swing, I heard the sound of boots running down the hall.
“Stop it Horse!”
Devil’s voice cut through the haze like a whip. In an instant, Chain was beside him, both of them rushing into the room and grabbing Horse by the arms, yanking him off of me before he could land the death punch.
“Back off, Horse,” Devil growled, his tone commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Not here. Not like this. He can’t defend himself.”
Horse struggled against their grip, his eyes still blazing with fury as he fought to get free. “Let me go, Devil. He needs to pay for what he did. This is personal.”
“You don’t even know what the hell happened,” Devil snapped, stepping between us as Chain and Mystic held Horse back. “We’re not solving this with fists. Not until we have an understanding of what happened, and Bolt can defend himself.”
I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath, my head spinning from the combination of the punch, the pills, and the sheer confusion of the situation. I wanted to defend myself, to tell them I didn’t even know how Jenny got here, but the words felt like sand in my mouth. Nothing was coming out right.
“Horse, let him talk,” Chain said, trying to calm him down. “We don’t know the full story.”
But Horse wasn’t listening. He was breathing hard, his hands still clenched into fists as he glared at me, his anger rolling off him in waves. “He hurt my daughter. That’s all the story I need.”
I pushed myself off the wall, my legs unsteady beneath me as I grabbed the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around me. “I would never hurt Fiona. I’d fucking die first.” My mouth pushed the words out and hoped I was making sense. “I took some pills last night for my headache. After that, I don’t remember shit. I wouldn’t have fucked her.”
Horse’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flashing in them. “You expect me to believe that bullshit? You don’t remember crawlin’ into bed with that trash?” He pointed to the used condom on the floor. “That right there tells me you fucked.”
“No,” I insisted, the frustration boiling up inside me at seeing it for the first time and knowing Fiona saw that little piece of evidence too. Again, I asked myself, did I fuck her? My mind and body fully rejected it, no matter how much it looked that way.
Devil’s gaze flicked between me and Horse, his eyes calculating as he tried to make sense of the situation. Chain, still holding onto Horse, seemed just as uncertain, but at least they were both giving me a chance to speak.
“I came back, took a couple of those pills that are behind the bar, and the next thing I know, Jenny is in my bed and Fiona is at the door,” I said, my voice hoarse.
For a moment, there was only silence. Horse glared at me, his chest heaving as he tried to process what I was saying. He didn’t believe me—why would he? From where he stood, I’d betrayed Fiona in the worst possible way.
Finally, Devil spoke. “Get out of here, Horse. Go cool off. We’ll settle this later when heads are cooler.”
Horse pointed at me; his face still filled with rage. “I see you near Fiona and I’ll shoot you on the spot and Devil won’t be able to save you.”
Shit, I should just let him kill me. Fiona was gone. And I didn’t know how to get her back.