Chapter 17 #2
I glance over at Tessa and Christina, if I’m totally honest then I’m a bit jealous of them. Seeing them with their kids hammers home that what Onyx and I have is fake.
Or at least not real. Yet. Maybe if I become part of this family then one day they’ll be my stories to tell our children…
My eyes flick again towards Silver. She’s leaning back in her chair, one silver boot hooked around the leg, her posture easy like she owns the room. Like she never did anything wrong in her life.
“So what changed?” I ask.
Queenie’s expression shifts—something dark passing behind her eyes. Not anger exactly. More like… memory.
“It wasn’t one thing,” she says. “It was a mess. And it involved my granddaughter.”
I raise my eyebrows at that. “I didn’t think you had any other grandkids.”
Queenie gives a short nod. “Yeah, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s a woman with her own family.”
“What happened?” I ask. I keep my voice gentle because Queenie’s fingers have tightened around her mug.
Queenie lets out a breath through her nose.
“Brittany grew up… somewhere strict.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push.
I’d read the files and knew about Queenie’s upbringing in the strict religious community that seemed to run on its own rules.
More like a fundamentalist sect or a cult, than anything resembling organized religion.
“She ran. Disappeared. Didn’t leave a note. Didn’t leave a trail. Just—gone.”
My chest tightens at that. The idea of someone simply vanishing, leaving nobody behind with answers.
“Did you know she existed?” I ask carefully.
Queenie’s jaw flexes once. “Yes, but I’d never met her. When I left, I had to leave everything behind. Leaving my daughter was the hardest thing I ever did, but I had no choice.”
I feel my eyebrows lift despite myself. “How did you find out about her?”
“I watched from a distance, tried to make sure she was safe,” Queenie’s voice turns low. “But it wasn’t enough. She ran off when she was eighteen and that was the last I knew—until we discovered she’d been staying with Savage Legion.”
Christina’s eyes narrow. “After the fact.”
Queenie nods and gives a smile. “Turns out, just like her grandma she had a thing for bikers.”
Tessa shifts, bouncing her baby lightly. Her voice is quiet as she speaks. “She was a club girl.”
“Yeah.” Queenie’s gaze flicks to Tessa, then back to me. “And before you start judging her, Emily, she didn’t go looking for trouble. She went looking for freedom. Sometimes those two things look the same from the outside.”
My throat tightens. I don’t say anything because the truth is, I get it. Maybe not the club girl part, but the running. The desperation to build a life that belongs to you.
“So Brittany was with Savage Legion,” I say, piecing it together. “And she met—”
“Tusk,” Queenie says, and for the first time her mouth softens just a little. “One of theirs. Loyal as sin.”
“And Brittany…” I hesitate. “She fell in love?”
“She did,” Tessa says softly. “She got her happy for a minute.”
Queenie’s eyes flick down to Christina’s daughter, then to Tessa’s nursing baby, and something like grief ghosts across her face before she locks it away again.
“Britt’s hot-headed like me. Tusk had an ex-wife, Gina, who was a nasty piece of work.
Trying her hardest to split them up. Britt found out she was pregnant at the same time she found out Tusk was getting back with his ex. ”
“What?” I exclaim.
“It was all lies. He was never getting back with her. But Brittany never knew and took off to Alaska—of all places—where she had her baby alone.”
“Victoria,” Tessa murmurs.
My heart gives a strange little ache. A baby girl. A family. A chance taken away.
Queenie gives a sigh. “Okay, I said it wasn’t gonna be a long story. So I’ll skip ahead. Tusk found her, told her the truth, and brought them both back to Las Salinas.”
I glance across the room again, at Silver, and I don’t know why but I suddenly feel colder. “She got her happy ending?”
Queenie’s lips press together. “Yeah. But Silver hated it.”
Christina’s voice is dry. “Because how dare a club girl end up loved.”
Queenie points her spoon at Christina without looking. “Exactly.”
My stomach twists. “So she tried to… break them up?”
Queenie lets out a humorless laugh. “Silver didn’t do anything halfway. She didn’t just want Brittany unhappy. She wanted Brittany gone.”
Tessa’s eyes go hard. “She wanted to win.”
“And how did she do that?” I ask, heat rising in my chest. I don’t even know Brittany, but the story hits something in me that’s raw and furious.
Queenie’s gaze sharpens. “Silver found out Brittany wasn’t just some runaway with no past. She learned there was someone hunting her.”
I swallow. “Who?”
“Silas Harper. He was the bishop of the sect my family belonged to. He thought Brittany belonged to him, he thought she’d been promised.”
My skin prickles. My mind flashes to being trapped, to someone deciding they own you. It makes bile rise in my throat.
“So Silver told him where Brittany was?” I ask, voice tight.
“More than that,” Queenie says. “She teamed up with Tusk’s ex-wife and the pair of them kidnapped Britt from the Savage Legion clubhouse and handed her over to Harper.”
Christina swears under her breath.
Tessa’s baby fusses. She soothes him with a gentle sound, but her eyes are flashing. “She used men like weapons.”
My hands are clenched in my lap. “How could she do something like that?”
Queenie’s expression turns grim. “Power. Money. Leverage. Revenge. Pick your poison.”
I take a shaky breath. My voice comes out thin. “Did they… did they take the baby too?”
Queenie’s eyes snap to mine. For a second the whole room feels like it stills.
“No,” she says, her voice clipped. “They didn’t get Victoria. Brittany wasn’t holding her when it happened.”
Relief hits me so hard I almost sag. It doesn’t erase the horror, but it changes the shape of it.
“What happened to Brittany?” I ask.
Queenie’s fingers curl tighter on her mug. “That’s where we came in. We knew Harper was after her, and that Savage Legion was after him.” She pauses, jaw working. “So Rock, who was Prez back then, offered our services. We’d protect him against the Legion.”
My chest tightens again. “Protect him?”
“We figured that way we’d get close,” Queenie confirms, her voice turning to steel. “Get her out before all hell broke loose.”
“Did he not recognize you?” I ask.
“I sent my boys,” Queenie corrects immediately, sharp as a whip. “He had no idea I was married to Sons of Rage’s Prez. And we got her back.”
I glance down at my plate, my appetite gone. The story is sitting inside me now like a stone. My mind keeps catching on one thing, circling it like it needs to understand.
“And Silver?” I ask.
Queenie’s eyes go flat. “By rights, Silver should’ve been put in the ground for what she did.”
The chill returns, crawling up my spine. I believe Queenie means it. I believe it was discussed. Considered. Not as a threat, but as a consequence.
“But you didn’t,” I say, because Silver is still alive, still sitting there, still drinking coffee.
Queenie’s mouth tightens, and she looks over at Silver again. Silver’s head is bent towards Heaven now, listening, her face unreadable.
“No,” Queenie says. “We didn’t.”
“Why?” The question comes out before I can stop it.
Queenie’s gaze snaps back to me. Her eyes are fierce. “Because killing someone is easy,” she says. “Living with what you’ve done and becoming better? That’s hard.”
Christina lets out a low whistle. “You really went the ‘teach a lesson’ route.”
Queenie makes a sound like she’s not amused. “Don’t act like I’m some saint. Part of it was practical.” She taps her finger on the table. “Silver had information. She had connections. She knew exactly who she’d talked to, what she’d traded, who she’d used. We made her talk.”
Tessa’s voice is quiet. “And then you kept her.”
Queenie’s mouth turns grim. “Then I kept her where I could see her. Where she couldn’t slither off and ruin more lives.”
“And she’s… different now?” I ask, still struggling to reconcile breakfast-table Silver with the girl Queenie is describing.
Queenie exhales slowly. “She’s still a work in progress.”
Christina snorts. “That’s Queenie-speak for ‘she’s still got a mouth on her and a mean streak, but she’s not actively selling women to predators anymore’.”
“She’s okay,” Tessa adds. Then gives a rueful smile. “Mostly. We’re just hoping that her good side rubs off on Heaven, and not vice versa.”
My eyes flick to Silver again, and this time I see her differently. A piece of the club’s history walking around in silver booty shorts and mascara.
Something in me settles, like a librarian filing a record into the right drawer.
I let out a slow breath. “This definitely needs to be in the archives,” I say, unable to help myself.
Christina laughs outright. Tessa’s mouth curves. Even Queenie’s lips twitch, though she tries to hide it behind her mug.
“The archives,” Queenie repeats, sounding half exasperated and half fond. “I guess it does. When I asked you to catalog our history, I was mainly thinking about the formation of the club and the early years.”
“It all matters,” I insist. “It explains why everyone looks at her the way they do. It explains why… things are the way they are.”
Queenie studies me for a long moment. Then she nods once, sharp. “Yeah. It does.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Just remember, some stories aren’t meant to be written down where they can be found.”
I nod immediately. “I understand.”
Queenie takes another sip of her coffee, gaze still hard. “Good.”
At the far end of the table, Silver shifts like she can feel the attention on her skin. Her eyes flick up again, briefly meeting mine. There’s something wary there. Something defensive, but she gives me a smile. Then she looks away.
Queenie watches her for a heartbeat and mutters, almost to herself, “Work in progress.”