Chapter 14
FARRIS
I can still feel the heat of her body pressed against mine. The way her breath hitched when I touched her. The way she moaned my name like she was this close to losing herself in me.
And I can still taste her. That desperate, angry kiss. The kind that wrecks you and makes you want to burn the whole fucking world down just to keep it.
But I stopped because this isn’t how I want her.
Not when she’s running. Not when she’s hiding shit from me. Not when she still thinks she can handle everything alone.
Calypso is standing in the middle of my room, arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. Like she’s afraid if she lets go, she’ll fall apart.
I exhale sharply and run a hand through my hair, trying to keep my shit together.
“Say something,” she mutters, barely above a whisper.
I lean back against the closed door, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you want me to say, Calypso?”
She flinches, just barely, before lifting her chin. “I don’t know. Anything.”
I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping. “You drop this shit on me after two months of silence, after your ex jumped me in the goddamn street, and you want me to act like it’s just another night?”
She shifts her weight, biting the inside of her cheek. She’s nervous.
Good. She fucking should be because I’m not letting this slide. Not this time.
I push off the door and step toward her, closing the space between us. “I need to know something.”
Calypso’s eyes flick up to mine, wary. “What?”
I lean in, voice low, deliberate. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Calypso’s breath catches in her throat, and that’s my fucking answer.
I clench my jaw, nodding once. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
She releases a shaky breath, shaking her head. “I wasn’t trying to.”
“Bullshit.” My voice is sharp, cutting. “You were trying to handle it on your own, like you always do. Like you don’t have people who would go to war for you.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “Like you don’t have me.”
Calypso blinks, looking away, but I’m not letting her off the hook.
I reach out, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “You don’t get to make this decision for me, Calypso.”
Her jaw tightens. “I never asked you to be involved.”
My fingers flex against her skin. Wrong fucking answer. I lean in, so close I can feel her breath on my lips. “You think that matters? You think I’m gonna walk away?”
She exhales sharply, and for the first time tonight, she looks scared. Not of me. Not of my reaction, but of what it means if I stay. Her voice is barely a whisper. “You should.”
I shake my head. “Not fucking happening.”
A sharp knock on the door shatters the moment. I pull back, exhaling hard before turning toward it. “Yeah?”
The door cracks open, and Blayze sticks his head in, his expression unreadable. “Prez wants you in Church.”
I nod. “Give me a minute.”
Blayze’s eyes flick between us, and then he disappears, closing the door behind him.
I turn back to Calypso. She’s standing there, arms still wrapped around herself, looking small in a way I’ve never seen before.
I want to pull her into me. I want to tell her we’ll figure this out, but I can’t do that until she lets me in. I let out a slow breath, running a hand down my face. “I have to go.”
She nods, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.
I step toward her, brushing my fingers against her hip, my touch softer this time. “Don’t disappear again.”
Calypso’s breath hitches, but she nods. It’s not a promise, but it’s a start.
I turn and walk out, my head a fucking mess because I already know that this isn’t over.
Not even close.
The second I walk into Church, I can feel it. A shift in the air. It’s in the way every patched member watches me as I take a seat at the long, scarred wooden table with the Royal Bastards MC logo etched deep into the wood.
The air is thick with unspoken words. Capone studies me like I’m a fucking puzzle he hasn’t decided if he wants to solve or break.
They all know what happened. They all know I was jumped, and they’re waiting to see how I’ll handle it.
Will I take the detective route and report it, or will I take matters into my own hands?
Before I met Calypso, I would have done it the lawful way. Now, revenge will be mine.
I settle into a chair, my ribs screaming from the fight, my knuckles are still raw and split.
I keep my shoulders loose, my expression unreadable.
I don’t show pain. I don’t show weakness.
Not here. Not in front of my brothers, because if I want my patch, I have to prove I can bleed for this club and keep my fucking head straight.
Capone leans back in his chair, dragging a hand over his jaw before exhaling sharply. “So, you got your ass handed to you.” A few chuckles ring across the table, but there’s an edge to them.
I keep my voice even. “Didn’t see them walking away clean, either.”
Blayze smirks while he lights up a cigarette. “That’s the thing about getting jumped, Law Dog. It don’t mean shit if you don’t put the fucker in the ground.”
I meet Blayze’s gaze. “Next time, I will.”
Capone tilts his head, watching me. “That right?”
I nod once with no hesitation. “That’s right.”
His smirk deepens. “Good.” Capone lights up a cigarette and exhales the smoke into the air.
The tension crackles, and the energy in the room shifts just enough. The Royal Bastards respect a man who stands his ground, but this isn’t over.
Capone leans forward, the smoke from his cigarette lingering around his dark hair. His elbows are on the table, fingers tapping against the wood. “Now, why don’t you tell us why the fuck some random piece of shit ex is making this our problem?”
I exhale through my nose, keeping my temper in check. “Dave Train isn’t random. He’s been following Calypso, threatening her. And now, after tonight, he’s not just her problem.” I pause, letting the words settle. “He’s mine.”
Capone huffs. “That so?”
Blayze leans in, voice dry. “You sure this isn’t just about you wanting to play hero?”
The laughter fucking grates on my nerves, so I slam my palms against the table hard. I shove myself to my feet so fast my chair scrapes back against the floor. The laughter cuts off instantly.
I lean forward, planting my hands on the table, locking eyes with Blayze. “This son of a bitch came after me. On club territory. That means he’s our problem now.” My voice is low and steady. Dangerous.
No one fucking speaks.
Capone studies me, then flicks his gaze to Blayze. “He’s got a point.”
Blayze shrugs, but there’s a new weight in his expression. They’re testing me. Seeing if I’ll break. If I’ll flinch.
I don’t.
Blayze finally sighs. “Fine. Tell me what we’re dealing with.”
I pull out the file Red left on the table earlier and slide it toward him. “Train’s not just some bitter ex looking to settle a score. He’s tied to Lattimer.” The room goes dead fucking silent.
Capone curses under his breath. Torch tenses, and Aftermath shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
Blayze opens the file, his expression darkening as he scans the photos. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah.” I sit back down, my voice cold. “ This is bigger than just one asshole with a grudge.”
Capone leans forward. “You think Train’s working for Lattimer?”
I nod. “Or with him. Either way, this isn’t just about Calypso anymore.” My fingers drum against the wood. “This is Black Market Railroad and Bloody Femmes business, and that means we need to handle it before it escalates.”
Capone tilts his head. “And how do you suggest we do that, prospect?”
I smirk. “We set the motherfucker up.”
Blayze raises a brow. “How?”
I roll my shoulders, ignoring the pain in my ribs. “Train thinks he can get to me. So, we let him. We spread the word that I’m running solo. That I’m vulnerable.” I pause. “That I’m pissed off at the club for not backing me.”
Capone nods slowly, following my train of thought. “Make him think you’re out on your own.”
I nod. “Exactly. He already came after me once. He’ll try again. And when he does?” My fingers curl into a tight fist. “We make sure he doesn’t fucking walk away this time.”
Capone grins. “I like it.”
Trigger leans back, rubbing his jaw. “It’s risky.”
I smirk. “I like risky.”
Capone chuckles, then turns to the table. “What do we think, boys?”
Dagger cracks his knuckles. “I think we let Law Dog play bait. And then we bury this motherfucker.”
Torch nods. “Sounds like a good night to me.”
Blayze exhales, shaking his head. “Fuck it. I’m in.”
Capone slaps the table. “Then it’s decided. We draw Train out, we take him down, and we send a goddamn message.”
A dark energy settles over the room. The hunt is on.
Capone looks at me, his smirk is gone. “You good with this, Law Dog?”
I exhale slowly, my body thrumming with anticipation.
I think about Train’s smug fucking face. About his hands on me, yanking my cut. About the way he sneered when he said, She’s mine.
I see red. I meet Capone’s gaze, my voice steady as fucking steel. “I want his head on a fucking plate.”
The room goes silent, and then Capone grins. “Now you’re starting to sound like one of us.”
I walk out of Church in search of Calypso. The tension is still buzzing under my skin. A few months ago, I would’ve played by the book. Would’ve handled this the way the badge taught me.
Now? I’m doing it the Royal Bastards way.