Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lettie
Brock walked out of the kitchen, leaving Cerberus and me alone while I weighed my options.
The promise I’d made to wait for him felt heavy in my chest, pressing against my ribs as I contemplated breaking it.
My fingers drummed against the table. Once.
Twice. I calculated the consequences of walking out now versus staying and facing whatever came next.
When Gaia walked in, her scowl told me everything I needed to know. Another threat. Another woman who thought she could challenge me. I realized there was another promise I might have to break.
I’d promised him I wouldn’t hit first, but I’d also made it clear I would defend myself if needed.
Turned out I didn’t need to. Cerberus stayed on constant alert here in the clubhouse, and he sat up the second the door opened.
He growled low in his belly as Gaia moved closer.
The sound vibrated through the air. Through my bones. A warning.
“I know what you did.”
“And yet, you were still brave enough to confront me?” I asked, relaxing back in my seat. My voice came out softer than I felt. Sweeter. But underneath was steel and poison and the promise of consequences.
“I’m not afraid of you. I’m not as stupid as Echo. I won’t accept a drink from you.”
I stood up and Gaia stepped back. I sunk my teeth into my lip to keep from laughing.
Hell, even resisting a smile was difficult as fear flashed across her face and quickly turned to hatred when she realized I wasn’t moving toward her.
Good. Let her be afraid. Let her understand exactly what I’m capable of.
Ignoring her heated stare, I gathered my dishes, rinsing them in the sink and placing them in the dishwasher.
The water ran hot over my hands. Scalding. Cleansing.
When I turned to face her, I found Rhea standing beside her.
“Everything okay, Lettie?” Rhea asked, her eyes darting between Gaia and me.
“I’m great, Rhea. I was just about to take Cerberus outside for a walk.”
Rhea chuckled, but the sound was hollow. Sad. Her grief was evident in every movement, like she didn’t know how to live now that her husband was gone. The weight of it hung on her like a shroud. Pressed her shoulders down. Made her movements slower. Heavier.
Despite the pain I witnessed, I still wanted a love like that. I wanted something so consuming that I couldn’t function without the man I chose to spend my life with. I wanted a love so deep that life with him meant everything I knew had changed.
Even if that love destroyed me in the end.
“Maybe I’ll take a walk with you.”
“I would love that,” I assured her. Holding out my elbow, she smiled sadly and looped her arm through mine. Steam practically billowed from the top of Gaia’s head when she realized I’d been granted something she’d likely never experience.
The matriarch’s respect.
Cerberus followed behind Rhea and me as we stepped outside and down the steps. Brock had told me I could take him through the back, which had a closed-off family area you could only access from the building, but I’d assured him Cerberus was well-trained.
“How are you doing, Rhea?” I asked as Cerberus brushed past us to explore the grounds. I wasn’t worried about him wandering away. He never went far enough that he couldn’t hear me. He was always on alert to any possible danger. Always watching. Always protecting.
She breathed deeply but didn’t speak right away. The silence stretched between us. Comfortable. Patient. After another few minutes, I thought she’d ignore my question. Then she answered, “I honestly don’t know, Lettie.”
She patted my arm, which was still locked with hers. “I don’t know who I am without Lucas. He’s been a part of my life since I was sixteen years old.”
I didn’t speak. Didn’t want to interrupt.
I suspected Rhea hadn’t had anyone to talk to about what she was feeling, especially after hearing Diana and Aspen’s stories.
Her oldest daughter had been gone for what felt like a lifetime.
And while Aspen’s time away had been much shorter, there was definitely some animosity there.
It would take time to reconnect with her daughters.
Time Rhea might not have if she kept drowning like this.
Rhea had only been at the party long enough to say hello, and it made me wonder if she had anyone she could confide in. Anyone who saw her as more than the president’s widow. More than the matriarch who was supposed to hold everyone else together while she fell apart.
I’d seen a few older women at the party last night.
Brock had told me some of the older brothers had old ladies, but none of them made an effort to speak to me.
I wanted to believe it was because I was a nobody.
Brothers probably invited women to the clubhouse all the time.
There were only so many club whores living in the building.
That was how I referred to them now. Their attitude and lack of respect, not only for themselves but for sisterhood, meant they didn’t deserve my respect. They deserved to be called exactly what they’d chosen to be.
Whores.
“I wish I could leave. Take some time for myself and just get away. Find myself,” Rhea said wistfully.
“Why don’t you?”
“My son would never let me go off alone. He’d send a prospect to follow me and report back everything I did or said. Every person I spoke to. It would defeat the purpose.” Her shrug felt like defeat. Like resignation. Like she’d already accepted her cage.
I felt for Rhea. I couldn’t imagine living under the watchful eye of prospects.
Was that what being with Brock would be like?
If this thing between us became more, would he expect a prospect to follow me everywhere?
That would certainly hinder my work. My anonymity.
My ability to move through the world unseen and unnoticed while I did what needed to be done.
The thought made my stomach clench. Made my chest tighten. Made me wonder if claiming Brock as mine meant losing myself in the process.
“I can help you with that,” I said softly.
Rhea stopped walking and turned to me. “What do you mean?”
“I can give you a way to lose the prospect.” My voice stayed calm. Measured. Even though inside I was already calculating dosages and delivery methods. Already planning how to make this work.
“How?”
I shrugged and kept walking, hoping she’d follow. She fell in step beside me, and I continued, “I can make sure he can’t follow you once you leave the clubhouse.”
“Would it hurt him?” she asked.
Even in her grief, she was thinking of someone else. As if she’d given her whole life for everyone but herself. As if her own needs, her own pain, her own desperate desire for freedom didn’t matter as much as protecting the men who caged her.
“No. He won’t be comfortable for a while, but he’ll be fine after a few hours.”
Rhea chuckled, and it was the first sign of amusement I’d seen from her since the club had come home from Nebraska. From where Kronos had died. The sound was lighter. Freer. Like she was remembering what joy felt like.
“You’re the reason Hades spent last weekend locked in the bathroom? And Echo last night?”
“He disrespected me. And she—” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Well, she deserved it. They both did.”
“You’re perfect for him, you know.” I smiled but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I was perfect for anyone. Wasn’t sure anyone could be perfect for someone like me. Someone who carried vials of poison around her neck and calculated kill methods the way other women counted calories.
“Zeus is hard like Lucas was. Hades—” She paused, searching for the right word. “He’s softer, but that’s not quite right either. He’s just as dangerous, but he’s built for love. I’ve known Brock since the day he was born. He’s only a few months younger than Zeus. His mama was so enamored with him.”
“Brock told me she left.”
“She did. I’m still not sure what happened. Cheryl loved those boys. She loved Jupiter. She was a couple of years older than me, and she taught me everything I knew about being a biker’s wife. I thought for sure she was a lifer, and then one day she was just gone.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“I do. She was my only friend. The other old ladies have always thought I was uppity. Like I thought I was too good to be their friend because I was the president’s old lady.”
“I’m so sorry, Rhea. That must have been hard.” The words came out genuine. Because I understood loneliness. Understood what it meant to be surrounded by people and still feel completely alone. To have no one who truly saw you. Who truly understood the darkness you carried.
“It’s lonely at the top—remember that, Lettie. I hope my son will settle down one day, but if he doesn’t, as the VP’s old lady, you’ll be the one who takes my place.”
My face heated. The implications of her words settled over me like a weight. The VP’s old lady. Second-in-command of the women. Responsible for the club whores. Expected to maintain order and hierarchy and all the bullshit politics that came with it. Expected to be watched. Monitored. Controlled.
Expected to give up my anonymity. My freedom. My work.
“Brock and I are just getting to know each other. It might not go anywhere.”
“He lets you call him by his birth name. That means something, Lettie.”
I must’ve looked like a fish, my mouth opening and closing as I processed what she meant, because Rhea threw her head back and laughed.
Really laughed. Not the hollow chuckle from the kitchen or the forced smiles she’d been giving everyone.
This sound was beautiful and light, like she’d forgotten what joy felt like. What it meant to be happy. To be free.
Until the tears started to fall.
She dropped to her knees as gut-wrenching grief rose to the surface in intense, shuddering sobs. The sound tore from her throat, raw and broken. Desperate. Like something inside her had finally cracked open and all the pain she’d been holding back came flooding out.