Chapter Forty-Eight
Melissa
My hands shook, knuckles white as I dug my nails into my palms. The air felt thick, pressing against my chest. “Which children?” My voice barely made it past my lips, brittle and low.
Images flashed—Tabby’s shy smile as she hid behind her teddy bear; Charlie’s contagious giggle echoing from the corners of Silver Shadows’ clubhouse.
They were more than just club kids; they were family.
The thought of them in that cunt’s hands sent lightning bolts of panic down my spine.
“Sinclair, I know you have the names. Tell me. Which kids is she targeting?” I forced out, urgency slicing through my fear.
Sinclair eyed me, his voice clipped and steady. “First, she’ll go after the ones who are easy to access. Children left unguarded.”
My breath stuttered. Chrissy in her faded pink hoodie. Tabby, with her innocent smile. Charlie, with her infectious joy. I remembered their laughter, their trust.
What if they vanished? What if we were too late?
Sinclair’s expression grew grim as he explained, “Then she’ll target the high-profile ones. Children of officers.” His words resonated, the implication clear: the threat was escalating.
My heart pounded in my chest. I forced myself to speak; the fear nearly choking my voice. “Like my daughter, Danika?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. Images of my daughter—her fierce spirit and boundless curiosity—flashed through my mind.
“She can fucking try,” Sinclair seethed venomously, then quickly collected himself. “But the one she’s really after is the one who’s gone missing.”
My whole body trembled. “Who?”
My question slipped out, raw and desperate.
“Emma Doherty. Reaper’s daughter and Montana’s granddaughter.” Sinclair’s answer was heavy with significance.
“Why her?” I demanded, trying to steady myself.
Sinclair’s voice was measured but intense.
“Because Emma carries the legacy she needs. Conceived while in the clutches of the Society, Emma was meant to rebuild the Society before she was rescued and given to her father. If Sylvia can get her hands on Emma, she has the power to control the Golden Skulls and the Soulless Sinners. When you factor in her connection to the Silver Shadows, that gives her control over three of the most prominent biker clubs. With Emma, she can rewrite history and shape future generations to continue on the Society’s main objective. ”
“Which is?” I pressed, needing to hear it spoken aloud.
Sinclair replied simply, “Division. Those who have power and those who don’t.
The Society has been around for generations, my dear, and its principal goal has always been to create a divide between those in power.
” Sinclair hesitated for a moment, then his voice dropped to a near whisper.
“To breed loyalty. To ensure the Society’s ideals are carried forward generation after generation.
They want to create an unbreakable lineage—one that can’t be swayed or destroyed by outside forces.
” He glanced at me, searching for understanding.
I grappled with the chilling truth, my fists clenching as the weight of it settled in.
“So, Emma’s not just a target; she’s the cornerstone of everything they’re building.
” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I had to face them.
Our fight wasn’t just against Sylvia—it was against the legacy of the Society itself.
“How do we stop her?” I asked, my voice trembling with urgency.
Sinclair sat up, his expression solemn. “We don’t, my dear,” he replied, letting out a heavy sigh. “I do.”
“NO!” Rowen shouted, slamming his hands down on Sinclair’s desk, his anger palpable. “Forget about it, Sinclair. Not happening.”
Sinclair’s resolve was unwavering. “I won’t let that woman near my granddaughter, or any other child for that matter, Rowen. I have the means to stop her, and I will gladly do it, if it means no other child shall suffer the trauma we endured.”
Rowen shot back, his tone sharp. “Don’t play the martyr now, Sinclair. It’s not a good look for you. You even think about going up against her, I will call Silas.”
Sinclair narrowed his eyes, growling, “You leave him out of this.”
Sensing their argument was escalating, I quietly rose and left them to their confrontation.
My mind was overwhelmed, struggling to process all the information.
I didn’t claim to know every player involved, nor did I want to.
This life had already taken too much from me.
If I were wise, I would simply take Danika and run, but that would mean abandoning countless other children to a fate they did not deserve.
What I knew for certain was that there was strength in numbers.
The more people who understood what was at stake, the better the chances of survival. It was simple logistics.
When I stepped into the living room, Haizley was perched by the fire, a book resting in her hands.
She wasn’t reading—her gaze was fixed on the flickering flames, her mind somewhere distant.
The heaviness in her expression told me she’d retreated into herself, searching for solace I knew she wouldn’t find here.
“Haizley?” My voice barely rose above the crackle of burning wood. I didn’t want to startle her, but the urgency pressed at my throat.
Her lips parted, eyes not quite meeting mine. “I heard.”
I eased myself onto the sofa beside her, searching her face for answers. “Heard what?”
She turned, her gaze sharp now, cutting through the haze. “Call him, Missy. He needs to know the kids are in danger.”
A lump formed in my throat and shame prickled beneath my skin. “I know.”
She didn’t flinch. “Then what’s stopping you?”
Her words stung, a knot tightening in my chest. I rose abruptly and began pacing, trying to push away the memories that threatened to overwhelm me.
“He won’t listen to me, Haizley. I told him I wanted nothing to do with the club anymore.
I blamed him—and the others—for Travis’ death.
I’m scared they’ll never trust me again after what I said. I don’t know if I can face them.”
Haizley’s voice rose, urgent and raw. “That was grief, and they know it. This war they’re fighting—it’s a distraction from what’s really happening.
It isn’t about power anymore, Missy. It’s about innocent kids who didn’t ask for any of this, who only want to love and be loved.
Jesus fucking Christ, you know damn well any one of us would lay down our lives for any kid.
Any kid, Missy! If they find out you knew and didn’t warn them, they’ll never forgive you.
And that’s not even mentioning what the women will do to you. ”
Haizley’s fingers tightened around the spine of her book, knuckles pale.
“You’re stronger than you think, Missy. They may be angry, but if you don’t reach out, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, especially if a child you know goes missing.
” She looked at me, her voice softer now, almost pleading.
“You have to try. For their sake—for yours.”
My chest ached with uncertainty, but beneath the fear, a flicker of hope stirred. Maybe it was possible to mend what had been broken—maybe survival depended on facing the past, not running from it. I stopped pacing and met Haizley’s gaze, determination settling in me like a stone.
“Okay. I’ll call him.” My words were barely more than a whisper, but saying them aloud made them real. I picked up my phone and dialed the number I vowed never to call again, bracing myself for whatever would come next.
With trembling hands, I pressed my phone to my ear, heart pounding as I waited for him to pick up. The line rang twice before his deep, familiar voice answered, uncertain but gentle. “Mellie?”
I steadied my voice as best I could, forcing out the words, “Hi, King.”
His concern was immediate, seeping through the phone, softening his tone. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
There was no easy way to begin, but I knew I had to. “I need to tell you something about the war.”
He sounded tense now, wary. “What?”
My mind raced to gather the right words. “I was talking with Sinclair and he said...”
But King interrupted, his voice gentler now, as if he understood. “Mellie,” he said quietly, “we know. Sinclair called us after we told him about Malice’s death. He’s been helping us, passing on information as soon as he hears anything.”
My throat tightened with emotion. I reached for Haizley’s comforting hand, desperate for reassurance. “The kids?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
King’s response was steady, full of conviction.
“Are perfectly safe. No one is getting their hands on a single kid, Mellie. I’d die before I let that happen.
You too, honey. I know you don’t like us right now, but we’re still your family, and family protects each other.
I really wish you’d come home. I miss you. ”
A weak laugh escaped me as I swiped away tears. “Yeah, me and my snarky mouth.”
King chuckled warmly. “Wouldn’t be you unless you were ripping into someone.
” His tone softened as he grew serious again.
“Look, Mellie, I know you got the shit end of the stick and I’m so sorry for that, but Ghost only wanted to protect you and give you the life he thought you deserved. You know that, right?”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, my reply small but genuine. “I know.”
There was a heavy pause before King spoke again, voice thick with understanding. “Look, I know what it cost you to call me, Mellie. Thank you.”
I hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath. “Promise me something, King?”
His answer was immediate and unwavering. “Anything.”
My words shook with emotion as I pleaded, “Protect them. Promise me they will live happy lives.”
He didn’t hesitate. “With my dying breath, baby.”
The call ended, leaving a raw ache in my chest. I turned to Haizley, my voice breaking with the truth I hadn’t wanted to face. “I’m going to miss him.”
Haizley wrapped her arms tightly around me, holding me together as I finally let go of a life that was no longer mine to claim.