Chapter 36 #3
“Ever since Dante became president and opened the compound to the public, the fear of us has become even less. We’re no longer the whispered nightmares, but rather people the locals can trust. Apart from with their cars. Tools rips them off every time,” he chuckled.
“Sounds like Tools.”
“There was a woman once being attacked on the compound. Her boyfriend had too much to drink. Dante bit his ear off in front of everyone. That was enough to make people realise we were friendly but still dangerous. Since then, we’ve had a few women come forward, asking for help with their abusive partners.
Dante has a fund set aside, which he uses to help them get back on their feet.
And of course we deal with the piece of shit hurting them.
But we’ve never had a kid before, Gabby. I can’t get her out of my mind.”
“Hey,” I said, sitting up and looking down at him, my hand curving around his cheek. “You helped her. You did what you could for her. You can’t blame yourself that some evil fuck hurt her. At least you know it won’t ever happen again.”
“It shouldn’t have happened to begin with.”
“No,” I agreed. “It shouldn’t have. But we’re not responsible for the actions of others. And you can’t shoulder the blame for it.”
“I know it’s just… she was so tiny,” he sighed sadly.
“I know,” I said, lying back down on him. “But she’s safe now. She’s protected. You did that.”
Vienna squeezed my arm, his own arms tightening around me, and we were silent for long moments.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Hmm?” he replied, sounding exhausted.
“You know that fund of Dante’s?”
“Yes?” he said suspiciously.
“Do you think…” I paused to wet my lips. “Do you think he’d use some for the women of the Riders and—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No, Gabriella,” he replied firmly. “I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Dante is offering you protection because I love you and that’s how it’s always been. But he won’t extend his protection to the other old ladies there. They made their choice.”
“But not always. They—”
“The old ladies made their choice. I agree with others. The bunnies, for example? They had no choice. And we’ll do what we can there.
But Dante is never going to extend his help, his money, and his protection to old ladies of an enemy gang.
I’m sorry, but he just won’t. He won’t actively harm them, and if the children need assistance, he’ll do something, but he’s never going to do more than that. And you’d be unreasonable to ask him.”
“They’re not all bad,” I whispered.
“But they are his rivals, princess. Dante has changed a lot since Rachel, but you can’t ask him to change his beliefs and principles.
And to be honest, I wouldn’t want to help them either.
They had no issue with their men declaring war on us.
Where were they when Shark died? Or Zach?
Macbeth? Crash? Tyler? We’ve lost members, too.
And we’ve picked up the pieces ourselves. ”
“I suppose,” I mumbled. “I just can’t help but feel guilty.”
“About what?”
“About the fact that I escaped, and they didn’t.”
“Because they made their choice, Gabriella. Yours was made for you. You didn’t choose Nico. You had every right to leave. They did choose the Riders and their men, and everything that came with it. You just told me not to feel guilty, so why should you?”
I didn’t answer, and Vienna sighed quietly, his thumb beginning to stroke slow circles against my arm.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“You’re trying to save everybody.”
I didn’t answer because he was right, and we both knew it.
“I used to think like that,” he continued quietly.
“After Crash, Zach, even Macbeth… every time we buried someone, I convinced myself that if I’d just done one thing differently, they’d still be here.
One more phone call. One more patrol. One more conversation.
” He shook his head. “It’ll destroy you, Gabby. ”
“I just don’t know how to stop caring.”
“I don’t want you to.”
His answer came so quickly that I looked up at him.
“I never want you to stop caring. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” He smiled tiredly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my face. “But caring and carrying aren’t the same thing.”
I frowned.
“You can care about every woman still trapped there. You can hate what’s happening to them. You can wish things were different. But you can’t carry all of them out on your back. Eventually it’ll break you.”
The bathroom fell quiet again.
Water lapped gently against the sides of the bath as I let his words settle.
Maybe he was right. But it didn’t do much to ease the guilt.
I stayed silent and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear and realised how close sleep suddenly felt.
Outside, somewhere beyond the bathroom walls, I could hear the compound still moving around us. Doors opening and closing. Motorcycles arriving back home. Quiet voices drifting through the evening.
Vienna was right. Life carried on. It always did.
We just had to find a way to move with it.