Chapter 23
BONNIE
The ceiling fan makes the same clicking sound on every third rotation.
Click. Whir. Whir. Click. Whir. Whir.
I’ve been listening to it for nearly two weeks straight. Know the pattern by heart now. Could probably fix it if anyone would let me leave this room long enough to find a screwdriver.
But they won’t.
I lie on my back on Ghost’s bed, legs crossed at the ankle, arms spread wide. The fan spins above me, circulating the same stale air I’ve been breathing since Ash decided I was too pregnant and too valuable to risk leaving the compound.
My phone sits on the nightstand. Snake stopped texting after the fifth day. Ran out of things to say when every conversation ended the same way—me stuck inside, him working alone, my clients getting reassigned to other artists.
Mrs. Liu got her cancer survivor piece done by someone else. I saw the photo Snake sent. It was fine. Competent. Nothing special.
I could’ve made it special.
The door opens. Ghost walks in, still wearing his cut, gun holstered at his hip. “You moved,” he says.
“Barely.”
“It’s an improvement.” He strips off his cut and hangs it on the back of the chair. “Titan brought back Chinese. You should eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“You’re always not hungry lately.”
“That’s what being pregnant does. Makes everything taste like cardboard.”
He sits on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on my ankle. “You can’t stay in bed all day.”
“Watch me.”
“Bonnie—”
“I’m fine.”
He’s quiet for a moment, thumb rubbing circles on my ankle bone. “Ash is asking for you.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Doing what? Counting ceiling tiles?”
“There are forty-seven of them. In case you were wondering.”
Ghost stands and moves to the window. Looks out at the compound below. “You should talk to him,” he says.
“Why? So he can tell me no again? So he can remind me I’m carrying precious cargo and need to stay locked up like Rapunzel?”
“So you can stop torturing yourself.”
I sit up. The room spins slightly as I stand up too fast, or maybe it’s just the pregnancy making everything harder. “I’m going to talk to him. Right now.”
“Bonnie—”
But I’m already past him, out the door, down the hallway. My bare feet slap against the wooden floors as I head for the stairs.
Brothers look up as I pass. Miller raises his beer in greeting.
I reach the office and don’t bother knocking. Just push the door open and walk in.
Ash sits behind the massive mahogany desk, paperwork spread in front of him. He looks up when I enter, pen still in his hand.
He looks different sitting there. Younger than Dad ever did, but somehow right. Like the chair was always meant to be his, even though it took a federal arrest to get him here.
Dad’s cigars used to fill this room with smoke. Now it smells like leather and Ash’s cologne.
“Bonnie,” Ash says, setting down his pen. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to leave.”
His jaw tightens. “We’ve talked about this.”
“No. You’ve talked. I’ve listened. Now I’m done listening.” I plant my hands on his desk. “I need to get out of this compound. Today.”
“It’s not safe.”
“It hasn’t been safe for weeks. Months. Since the day Dad tried to marry me off to Marcus.” I lean forward. “When exactly is it going to be safe again, Ash? When the war’s over? When Marcus is dead? That could take years.”
“Then you wait years.”
“Like hell I will.”
He stands, matching my energy. “You’re pregnant. You’re a target. Every Savage Legion member in the state wants to get their hands on you. I’m not letting you walk out those gates so you can get snatched the second you’re unprotected.”
“I wouldn’t be unprotected. Send guards. Send a whole convoy. I don’t care.” My voice rises. “But I can’t stay locked in here anymore. I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being realistic. This war isn’t ending anytime soon. Marcus isn’t backing down. If anything, it’s getting worse.” I cross my arms. “So what’s the plan? Keep me locked up until the baby’s born? Until they’re five? Ten? When do I get my life back?”
“When I say it’s safe.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It has to be.”
We stare at each other across the desk. His expression is set, determined. The same look he gets when he’s made a decision and nothing will change his mind.
But I’m not backing down either.
“There has to be a compromise,” I say. “Some way I can leave, even for a few hours. I could wear a disguise. Stay in the car. Only go to places you’ve cleared. Something.”
“No.”
“Ash—”
“No, Bonnie. I’m not risking you. I’m not risking our baby.” He softens slightly. “I know this is hard. I know you feel trapped. But it’s temporary.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. We’re going to end this. Soon. And then you can go wherever you want.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can and I do.”
I want to scream. Want to flip his desk and storm out and do something reckless just to prove I still have control over my own life.
But he’s right about one thing—I am pregnant. And as much as I hate it, that does change things.
“Please.” The word tastes bitter in my mouth. “I’m not asking for much. Just a few hours outside these walls. I’ll take any precautions you want. Follow any rules. I just—” My voice cracks. “I can’t breathe in here anymore.”
Ash’s expression shifts. The hard line of his jaw softens. His eyes search my face, and I see the moment he starts to cave.
“Maybe we could arrange something,” he says slowly. “Heavy guard. Daylight hours only. Somewhere close—”
He stops. His gaze shifts to the window behind me.
The softness vanishes from his face, replaced by something cold and sharp.
“What?” I turn to follow his line of sight.
Through the window, I see Titan’s bike roaring through the front gate. But he’s not alone.
A man is chained to the back of his motorcycle, stumbling and falling as Titan drags him across the gravel parking lot. Blood covers the man’s face and shirt. His hands are bound behind his back. Titan doesn’t slow down, forcing the man to run or be dragged.
“Fuck.” Ash is already moving, heading for the door.
I follow.
We burst out of the clubhouse just as Titan brings his bike to a stop near the small barn behind the main building. Brothers are already gathering, forming a loose circle around him.
Titan swings off his bike and grabs the man by the chains, hauling him to his feet. The man’s face is a mess—broken nose, split lip, one eye swollen shut.
“What the fuck, Titan?” Ash demands, striding toward them. “Where did you find him?”
“East side. He was watching Rodriguez’s garage.” Titan shakes the man hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Weren’t you, asshole?”
The man doesn’t answer. Just whimpers.
“He Savage Legion?” Ghost appears beside me, having followed us out.
Titan pulls up the man’s sleeve, revealing a patch sewn into his skin. The Savage Legion’s emblem—a skull with a crown.
“Fresh meat,” Titan says. “Prospect. Figured he might know something useful before I put him down.”
Ash looks at the barn. Then at me. “Bonnie, go back inside.”
“No.”
“Bonnie—”
“I want to hear what he has to say.”
Ash’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue. He nods once and gestures for Titan to move.
Titan drags the man toward the barn. The doors are old, warped wood that screams when Titan pulls them open. Inside is dark, dusty, smelling of oil and rust.
I’ve never been in here before. Never had a reason to. But I know what it’s used for.
Interrogations.
Titan chains the man to a support beam in the center of the barn, metal links rattling as he secures them. The man sags against his restraints, barely conscious.
Brothers file in behind us. Miller. Barnes. Rodriguez. Pedro. Danny. Others whose names I don’t know. They form a loose circle, arms crossed, waiting.
“Last chance,” Titan says to the man. “Tell us what you know, and maybe you walk out of here.”
The man lifts his head. Spits blood at Titan’s feet. “Fuck you.”
Titan hits him right in the ribs. The man doubles over, gasping.
I flinch. Ghost’s hand finds my elbow, steadying me.
“Wrong answer,” Titan says. He cracks his knuckles. “Let’s try again. Why were you watching Rodriguez’s garage?”
The man doesn’t respond.
Titan hits him again. Then again. Each impact sounds like a hammer on meat.
“Stop,” Ash says.
Titan pauses, fist raised. “He’s not talking.”
“Give him a second.” Ash moves closer to the man. “You’re a prospect. New blood. Which means you’re expendable. Your club doesn’t care if you live or die. But we do. So talk, and you might see tomorrow.”
The man shakes his head. Blood drips from his mouth onto the dirt floor.
“Suit yourself.” Ash steps back and nods at Titan.
What follows is systematic and ritual. Titan doesn’t waste movement, doesn’t pull his punches.
I should look away. Should leave like Ash wanted. But I can’t. This is the reality of the world I’m part of. The club I married into. The war is being fought in my name.
So I watch.
The man holds out longer than I expect. Ten minutes of Titan’s fists breaking bones, splitting skin, crushing whatever resistance he has left.
His screams echo off the barn walls. Wet, gurgling sounds that make my stomach turn.
Ghost’s hand is still on my elbow. I realize I’m gripping his arm hard enough to leave marks.
Finally, the man breaks.
“Okay,” he gasps. “Okay. I’ll talk.”
Titan stops. Steps back. Blood covers his knuckles.
“Smart choice,” Ash says. “Now. Why were you watching the garage?”
“Orders.” The man’s voice is barely audible. “Marcus—he told us to watch for her. The girl.”
Ice floods my veins.
“What girl?” Ash asks, though we all know.
“The president’s daughter. Bonnie.” The man lifts his head, one eye finding me in the crowd. “He wants her. Put a reward out. Fifty grand to whoever brings her in alive.”
The barn goes silent.
“Alive?” Ghost’s voice is deadly quiet.
“Yeah. Alive. Unharmed.” The man coughs, spits blood. “He’s claiming her. She and the baby. Says they’re his. Says she’s carrying his kid and he wants them both back.”