Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE ROOM WAS thick with angry tension, the kind you could feel in the air, like right before a trapped tiger was ready to break free and attack.
Devil stood at the head of the table, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every man seated before him. His expression was stone cold, all business, the way it always was when he was about to lay down the law. This wasn’t just a meeting; it was a call to arms.
“Alright, listen up,” Devil said, his voice cutting through the silence. “We’ve got a situation on our hands, and I’m not only talking about the bullshit with Dragon Fire, we now have two personal vendettas to fight. That bastard James is in town, and he’s already made a move on Fiona. The big kicker is he’s getting on the grounds somehow and we need to figure that shit out real quick.”
A low murmur rippled through the room, the anger and restlessness palpable. Every man here knew what that meant. James wasn’t just a problem for Fiona; he was a problem for all of us—crossed a line, and that meant he was on our radar.
“We can’t let this go,” Chain said, leaning forward, his hands planted firmly on the table. “That son of a bitch thinks he can just waltz back in and threaten her? Trespass where he has no business. We need to show him he’s messin’ with the wrong people.”
“You’re damn right we do,” Thunder added, his eyes dark with anger. “We can’t let him think he’s got any kind of power over her, and especially not over us.”
I sat there, so fucking angry he had gotten close to Fiona, fucking close enough to touch her. Every word they said was like fuel to the fire burning in my chest. James was a threat, and threats needed to be dealt with. Period.
Devil raised a hand, calling for silence. “This has to be dealt with invisible hands,” he said, his voice measured. “We don’t need any unwanted attention on the club, not when we’ve already got Dragon Fire that has to be dealt with, and that’ll be bloody. We can’t have our fingerprints on the death of a civilian. But we’re not going to sit back and do nothing either.”
“I gave you my plan for security.” I said, my voice low and steady, even though inside I was anything but calm.
Devil’s gaze flicked to me, his eyes hard. “We’re upping security around the clubhouse, should have done this sooner but we’ve never had a problem before, not with all the miles of forest and fucking marshes. I want a man at the gate and patrolling the grounds at all times. No one in or out without us knowing about it. Got it? This will keep our privacy and Fiona safe at the same time.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. It was a necessary measure, one that I would make sure was enforced. But it didn’t make the anger go away. It didn’t make the urge to hunt James down and end this threat once and for all any less powerful.
“And do you think we have a rat inside?” Chain asked. His voice was tight with barely contained rage. “We need to lay out some cheese because we can’t just sit around and wait for the rat to squeal some more.”
Devil’s jaw tightened, a dangerous glint in his eye. There was a reason Devil was next in line as regional president once Patch stepped down—he was ruthless. “I hate to say it, but yes, I think we have a rat, and like always, I’ll be the cat that corners, then kills it.”
A murmur of agreement went around the table. This was how we handled things. We protected our own, and we made sure that anyone who threatened us learned quickly that it was a mistake they wouldn’t live to regret.
“It could be a sweet butt,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. Every head turned toward me, but I kept my eyes on Devil. “If Jenny can drug me, then she’s capable of ratting us out to Dragon Fire.”
Devil stared at me for a long moment, weighing my words, weighing me . Then he nodded. “I need proof before I drag her into the roundhouse and question her. So, get the dirt and we’ll take care of business.”
I gave a curt nod, my jaw clenched tight. It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was the one that made the most sense. We had to be smart about this, and Devil was right. We had no problem serving out our own kind of justice, but it had to be warranted justice.
“Fiona stays under everyone’s eye,” Devil continued, his eyes sweeping the room again. “She’s under our protection, and that means we don’t let her out of our sight. If James so much as breathes in her direction, we shut it down. Understood?”
“Understood,” the room echoed, every man’s voice ringing with the same determination.
“We move tonight to find the Dragon Fire hideout,” Devil said, his tone final, brokering no argument. “Get your gear and be ready. We’re not playing games here. We need to end this and avenge our brothers with their blood.”
The meeting broke, everyone moving with a sense of purpose, a sense of urgency. There was no room for hesitation, no room for doubt. We had a job to do, and we were going to do it.
I stood up, feeling that addicting adrenaline start to pump through my veins, the anticipation of the hunt setting in and not just for revenge on Dragon Fire. James had made a mistake coming back here, and he was going to learn that we weren’t the kind of people you crossed and walked away from.
As I moved to the door, I caught Devil’s eye. He gave me a nod, a silent message that said everything words didn’t need to. This was personal for me, and I was going to make damn sure James understood that.
I pushed the door open, stepping out into the hallway. There was a lot to do, and not much time to do it. And with any luck, we’d have the bastard cornered before he even knew what hit him.
THE CLUBHOUSE WAS quiet since most of the members were in the back room for their meeting, and the few that were left out here gave me space, as if sensing I needed to be alone and I was grateful for that. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, for questions, for anything other than the silence that let me sort through the mess inside my head.
I found myself wandering toward the kitchen, seeking the comfort of familiar surroundings. A kitchen had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in the rhythm of baking, where I didn’t have to think or feel. But even here, I couldn’t escape the chaos in my mind.
James.
The very thought of him sent a chill through me, a visceral fear that I couldn’t shake. I thought I’d started putting him behind me, thought I’d escaped his grasp. But now, with him back in my life, it was like every wound he’d ever inflicted had been ripped open again, bleeding fresh.
And then there was Bolt.
My feelings for him were a confusing mix of anger, betrayal, and something else I didn’t want to recognize— love . I wanted to hate him for what I’d seen, for the way he’d broken my trust. But every time I looked into his eyes, I saw a different story, one that made me question everything.
How could I be so drawn to him when every logical part of me screamed to stay away?
I sank down onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, staring blankly at the counter. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. James’s words haunted me, the way he’d looked at me with that possessive, dangerous glint in his eye. He wasn’t going to stop, not until he had me back under his control. And the thought of that, of going back to that life, terrified me more than anything.
I knew the club would protect me. I knew they were good people who took care of their own and let’s be honest here, Dad will kill him before he lets that happen. But a small, nagging part of me couldn’t shake the fear that James would find a way to get to me, that he’d slip through their fingers and drag me back to that dark place I’d fought so hard to escape.
The door creaked open, and I glanced up to see Brenda standing there, her sharp eyes taking in my hunched shoulders, my clenched hands. She walked over to me, and as always, her presence was solid and comforting in a way that made the tightness in my chest ease just a fraction.
“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she said, her voice soft but probing.
I gave her a weak smile, my fingers tracing patterns on the countertop. “It feels like it.”
She pulled up a stool beside me, settling in like she had all the time in the world. “You want to talk about it?”
I hesitated, the words tangled up inside me. I didn’t know where to start, didn’t know how to explain the jumble of emotions tearing me apart. But Brenda had this way of making you feel like you could say anything, like she’d seen it all and wouldn’t judge you for a damn thing.
“I’m just... scared,” I admitted finally, my voice barely a whisper. “Scared of what James might do. Scared that... that I’m never going to be free of him.”
She nodded, her eyes softening with understanding. “It’s okay to be scared, Fiona. You’ve been through hell, and it’s only natural to feel that way. But you’re not alone in this. You’ve got us, and we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
I swallowed hard, her words like a balm to the raw wound inside me. “I know and I know you guys are trying to protect me, and I appreciate it. Truly I do. But it’s hard to shake the feeling that he’s always going to be out there, waiting.”
“He’s what I like to call a perverted chicken,” Brenda said bluntly, her eyes flashing with anger. “He gets off on making you afraid and of the power he’s holdin’ over you. But you’re stronger than you think, Fiona. You’ve already taken the hardest step by leavin’ him. Now it’s about taking back control of your life.”
I nodded, biting down on my lip. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that I could be strong, that I could stand up to James and not let him ruin my life anymore. But the fear was still there, whispering in the back of my mind, telling me that he was never going to let me go.
“And what about Bolt?” Brenda asked, her tone gentle but direct. “Where does he fit into all this?”
The mention of his name sent a jolt through me, and I wasn’t sure how to answer. “I don’t know,” I said honestly, shaking my head. “I’m so angry at him, but at the same time, I... I don’t know how to feel. My heart wants him, but after everything that’s happened...”
“You love him,” she said simply, not a question but a statement of fact.
I looked down, my fingers twisting together. “Yeah. I do.”
Brenda let out a sigh, reaching over to place a hand on mine. “Sometimes, carin’ about someone means giving them the chance to prove themselves. I’m gonna be completely honest with you, Fiona. I don’t think he did shit with Jenny.”
Her words surprised me, and I replied, “Why would you think that? I told you I saw the used condom.”
Brenda snorted before saying, “Fiona, over the years I’ve seen a thousand tricks a sweet butt will use to start shit, and fillin’ up a condom with a mixture of mayo and water is first grade level—common as hell. The drugging doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. I heard it happened in the Pennsylvania chapter a few years ago.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “And all for a patch?”
“Well, in this case, I think it’s more than that. I think Jenny fancies herself in love with Bolt,” she explained, leaning back with a sigh. “She figures she gets rid of you, and things will go back to the way they were.” Brenda gave me a long, searching look. “And you, honey, are giving her exactly what she wants.”
“If only I could be sure he didn’t sleep with her,” I replied, feeling even more frustrated than before. “I don’t know why I can’t look past it, but I can’t.”
“Just take it one step at a time,” Brenda said, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet kitchen. “You’re stronger than you think, Fiona. Don’t keep lettin’ others steal the happiness from your life.”
I nodded, the knot in my chest loosening just a little. She was spot on and I couldn’t let fear control me, couldn’t let others dictate my life.
“You know Fiona, sometimes it takes the wrong man to lead you to the right one,” Brenda said as she stood to leave. “Bolt loves you. Don’t throw it away.”
And as I sat there, I knew she was right about everything, and he was telling the truth, and I should listen to him—really listen.