Chapter 12 #2
"You want me to leave the Badlands." It's not a question. My hand moves unconsciously to my chest, to the brand still raw beneath my shirt. The mark I earned with three years of my life.
"Yes." One syllable, no hesitation. "If I walk away from my family, you walk away from yours."
It's a fair deal. Too fair. Which means it's impossible.
"If I did that," I ask slowly, "you'd get on the back of my bike, let me take you somewhere where you know absolutely no one—where I know absolutely no one—and you would start over with me?"
She nods, and there's not a single shadow of doubt in her eyes.
I shake my head, almost laughing. "And how exactly would I support us, princess?
What would I do for work with a prison record and no club backing me?
" I gesture at the trailer behind us. "This?
This is club money. That job I have? Club connections.
You think I can just walk into some town and get hired as what—a fucking accountant? "
The fairy tale she's spinning falls apart against the sharp edges of reality. She doesn't understand what it means to have nothin’. To be nothin’.
"You think we'll rent some cute little apartment?
That I'll bring home flowers while you—what?
Wait tables? Post pictures of your breakfast for sponsors?
" I'm being cruel now, but she needs to hear it.
"The moment you step off that property without your name on it, you're just another pretty girl with empty pockets. "
"I have money of my own," she says, but her voice wavers.
"For how long? A year? Two? And then what?" I step closer. "And what about Mercy? I just leave her here while we run off to play house?"
Something in Savannah's face shifts, and I know I've hit a nerve. She hadn't thought about Mercy.
"She could come—"
"To live how? On what? In a world where she has no one but us?
" I shake my head. "You don't understand what it means to have nothing to fall back on.
No safety net. No rich brother to bail you out when things get hard.
This shitty twenty acres of scrub is all I got, Savannah.
This new trailer is a dream come true. I get it, I understand what you're saying.
And… it's even fucking reasonable. But I'm not walking out on my land. "
She shakes her head and huffs out a breath. "But you want me to do it."
"No," I say firmly, taking her face in my hands. "I want what is best for you. And this?" I pan to the land and the trailer. "This isn't it."
"But it's good enough for you. It's good enough for Mercy."
"Savannah—"
But before I can say anything else, she presses her fingertips against my mouth.
"I'm going home to change," she says softly. "I feel ridiculous standing here like this." Her fingers trail down from my lips to my chest, resting right over the brand I took for my brothers.
She doesn't know it's there. Doesn't know I've already carved another name on my heart. And her touch, light as it is, hurts.
"But you'll know where to find me at midnight."
She steps back, and for a second, I see something in her eyes I've never seen before. Not the careful calculation of an Ashby or the practiced seduction of our silo nights. Something wilder. Something that scares me more than prison ever did.
Then she's leaving. Walking back to her Range Rover. The engine purrs to life, expensive and certain, just like everything else in her world.
I stand on my porch, feeling the night settle around me, wondering what kind of man I am—the kind who follows a woman into a dream that can't possibly last, or the kind who stays with the only family that ever truly wanted him.
I go inside and start counting the minutes to midnight.
At a quarter to twelve, I check on Mercy. She's sprawled across her bed, one arm dangling toward the floor, the other still clutching that damn BB gun like it's a teddy bear. I adjust her blanket, careful not to wake her. On her nightstand sits the fortune cookie from dinner, still unopened.
"Be back soon," I whisper.
Outside, the night air hits good. Stars punch through the black, cold and sharp. I take the old footpath down past the dried-up creek bed, my boots crunching on stones that have felt my weight a thousand times before.
The silo rises against the horizon like a sentinel. Ten minutes by foot from my door, but it might as well be another world.
The place where damnation and light begin.
My pulse is jumpin’. I'm five minutes early when I reach the clearing. The metal shell gleams silver in the moonlight, worn but standing. Like me.
Then I hear it—hoofbeats. Coming fast.
Savannah appears at the edge of the trees, Cassia's dark form moving like liquid shadow across the field. She doesn't slow until the last moment, then slides off before the horse fully stops, her feet hitting the ground running.
She's wearing a short dress, buttoned down the front, white cotton that catches the moonlight. Just like when we were kids. Just like the first time.
"You came," she breathes, stopping three feet away, chest rising and falling.
"Always do," I say, my voice rough.
The space between us burns away in seconds. We collide like we're trying to break each other, mouths hungry, hands desperate. I back her against the curved metal wall of the silo, the steel cool against my palms as I cage her between my arms.
I press my mouth against her neck, biting down on the soft skin where her pulse jumps.
Her fingers claw at my belt. "Legion…"
I press my hips against hers, letting her feel how hard I am. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. I wanna be inside you."
She moans, her head falling back against the metal. "Legion..."
"You want my fingers first?" I ask, already hiking up her dress, finding bare skin. No underwear. Fuck. "Or you want me to bend you over right here, where anyone could see?"
"Fingers," she gasps. "Then everything. All of you."
I slip my hand between her legs, finding her already slick and ready. "So fucking wet for me," I murmur, sliding two fingers inside her. She arches, a sound catching in her throat. "You think about this while you're wearing his ring? Think about me fucking you while he talks politics?"
"Yes," she admits, shameless, her eyes locked on mine. "Every day."
I curl my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her eyes roll back. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name," she says, voice ragged. "Until all I know is yours."
My cock strains against my jeans, aching to be freed. I withdraw my fingers, bring them to my mouth, and taste her. "Sweet as I remember."
She reaches down, unbuttoning my jeans, wrapping her fingers around me. "Big as I remember," she says with a wicked smile.
I groan as she strokes me, slow and deliberate. "Keep that up and this'll be over before it starts."
"Then don't wait," she whispers, hiking one leg around my hip.
I lift her, pressing her back against the silo. She wraps both legs around my waist as I position myself at her entrance. The head of my cock slides against her wetness, and we both gasp.
"Say my name," I demand, hovering at the edge of pushing in.
"Legion," she breathes.
"Again."
"Legion," louder this time.
I thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying myself deep. "Fuck," I groan, the tight heat of her nearly undoin’ me. "So perfect. So fucking perfect around my cock."
She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I begin to move, driving into her against the hard metal shell. Each thrust pushes a little sound from her throat, half-moan, half-sob.
"This what you needed?" I growl against her ear. "This what you've been missing? My cock filling you up while your fancy fiancé sleeps alone?"
"Yes," she gasps, meeting each thrust. "Only you. It's only ever been you."
I shift my angle, hitting deeper, and she throws her head back, nearly screaming. "That's it, princess. Let me hear you. Let everyone fucking hear you."
Her inner walls clench around me as she starts to come undone. "Legion, I'm—I'm gonna—"
"Come for me," I command, my rhythm relentless. "Come on my cock like the good girl you are."
She's moanin’ my name, over and over, her body tightening around me, trembling on the edge—then—light.
Everywhere.
Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, blinding us. The unmistakable sound of shotguns cocking echoes across the field.
"Get the fuck off my sister." Cash's voice, cold as steel.
Savannah screams as I'm ripped away from her, my body suddenly empty of her warmth. Rough hands grab my shoulders, yanking me backward. I stumble, still half-exposed, disoriented by the sudden light and separation.
"No!" Savannah shrieks, pulling her dress down. "Stop it! Cash, stop it!"
I can make out shapes now—Cash, Wyatt, and Marcus, their faces twisted with rage. Behind them, ranch hands with rifles and flashlights form a half-circle. A fucking firing squad.
"Savannah, come here. Now." Cash's voice leaves no room for argument.
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" She tries to move toward me, but Wyatt blocks her path.
"You fucking animal," Marcus spits, advancing on me. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"
I try to speak, but something—someone—hits me from behind, driving me to my knees. The taste of dirt and blood fills my mouth.
"I warned you," Cash says, looming over me. "I fucking warned you to stay away."
A boot connects with my stomach, driving the air from my lungs. I double over, gasping. Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Savannah screaming, begging them to stop.
"Get her out of here," Cash orders.
"No! Legion!" Her voice is raw with panic. "Let me go! Let me GO!"
I try to stand, to reach her, but another blow lands on my back, sending me sprawling. The world tilts, goes fuzzy at the edges.
"You think you can just take what's ours?" Someone—Wyatt, I think—growls above me. "You think you're worthy of an Ashby?"
I spit blood onto the dirt. "She's not... property."
Wrong answer. A boot connects with my ribs, and I hear something crack. Pain explodes through my chest.
Through swollen eyes, I see Savannah fighting against Marcus and another man, kicking and clawing as they drag her toward a truck I hadn’t even noticed, I was so focused on this woman.
"Legion!" She's sobbing now. "Don't hurt him! Please don't hurt him!"
I try to call her name, but all that comes out is a wet cough. More hands on me now, pinning me down. I buck against them, finding strength in desperation, but there are too many.
Something hard and heavy connects with the back of my head—a rock, maybe, or a pistol butt. Stars explode behind my eyes.
The last thing I hear is Savannah screaming my name as darkness swallows me whole.
GET THE NEXT BOOK
They were caught at the silo at midnight.
Same place they've been hookin’ up for years.
Her family thought violence would be enough to end it.
They were wrong.
It only made the bond stronger.
Outlaw clubhouse.
Public claiming.
Loyalty test.
Church At Dawn.
BLOOD AND GRACE
Down on your knees—it’s time to choose sides.