Chapter 21 #2
“Don’t act like you don’t know the code of the brotherhood or how you broke Stallion law, puttin’ yourself above all others.
Bull did you a kindness by lettin’ you live.
He showed you mercy lettin’ you keep your ink.
I don’t give a fuck who you were—you’re not my prez now.
You want to walk among us, you make your fuckin’ peace. ”
The scene playing out before me made everything come to a stop. Even the band on stage had gone quiet, causing an eerie silence to settle as everyone waited for Scorpion’s response.
“Six years behind bars must have taught you somethin’,” piped in Shep. “You wanna come home, do it right.”
I still couldn’t see him around Twister—but I heard it as he stormed out the door. Twister took one look at Slick, and his brother nodded before he followed after Scorpion—Shep not far behind. Twister then turned and locked eyes with Mustang.
“If Bull’s not up the hill, I’ll have him on his hog in the next thirty seconds. Do what you gotta do.”
“Right behind you,” Mustang assured him. “I’ll get Wrangler here, too.”
Twister dipped his chin in a nod, then turned to address me.
Gone was the playful glint in his brown eyes as he raised an eyebrow and said, “Duty calls. I’ll be back if I can be. If I can’t—soon as you’re done here, I’ll meet you at mine. Understood?”
I nodded, somehow relieved to have been given instruction.
Scorpion was gone. For now, at least. He hadn’t seen me, which meant my secrets were still my own. Though, I couldn’t say how long I could hold onto this version of my reality.
The Stallions filing out of the bar made it clear to the former club president that his freedom didn’t change their loyalty to Bull.
I knew without question that loyalty was the glue which held the club together; it was the shield behind which all of them could stand if or when things went to shit.
And as much as I wanted to believe I’d been grafted into the fold, I wasn’t one of them.
None of them could protect me from the truth.
Not Twister.
Not Mustang.
Not even Bull.
I had no idea if or when Scorpion would be back. I had no idea what my next move would be—but for this night, I didn’t have to think or decide anything.
At the end of my shift, I knew where to go.
Ben said no more before he turned for the exit, extracting his phone as he went.
I was on auto-pilot for the rest of the night, trying my damnedest to compartmentalize my thoughts, all the while combating the devil within telling me to run . In theory, it was the easiest way out—but even the thought of leaving everything behind tore what was left of my tattered soul wide open.
I had a life in Gillette. It may have been a dull one—but it was mine , and it was more than I thought I’d ever have.
I purposefully kept my distance and protected my secrets from everyone around me knowing this day would come; knowing the choice I would have to make; knowing the darkness of my past would eventually catch up to me, forcing me to run and to start over again.
And yet, in spite of my best efforts, time had made me weak.
It wasn’t complacency. It was comfort. It was contentment.
I was fucking happy .
But I knew better.
All along I knew it wouldn’t last.
The cruelty of life had rarely shown me mercy—and in my vengeance, I’d only made it worse. I’d tempted fate. Now, it had come to collect.
Mustang and the other Stallions never came back.
When the band’s set was over, the bar cleared out early.
I didn’t have to shoo anyone out the door at closing, and Rodeo and I tackled our end of the night tasks in record time.
He’d been around for a couple years less than me and didn’t know Scorpion personally—but I could tell he was antsy to join his brothers.
He barely said goodnight before he was out the back door, headed for the clubhouse.
My feet felt heavy as I made my way across the empty lot to my Bronco. When I was behind the wheel, I hesitated to start the engine. Logic begged me to go home, pack a bag, and hit the road—but my inner monster would hear nothing of it. Leaving would be the death of it.
I did this to myself.
I dug the perfect grave.
I let my guard down.
Now—I didn’t want to leave.
Jamming my keys into the ignition, I started my Bronco and peeled out of the parking lot, speeding my way off the compound.
When I arrived at my destination, I found the garage was still open—his Hydra-Glide parked beside his truck.
In an attempt to keep myself from second guessing my decision, I didn’t linger in my vehicle.
As soon as my boots hit the ground, I practically sprinted toward the door—shutting the garage behind me.
I discarded my purse atop the dryer in his mudroom as I passed, headed toward the light. Ben was in the kitchen, the fridge door open in his hand. He glanced my direction, caught my eye and asked, “Hey, baby—you hungry?”
Rather than answer him with my words, I pressed my palm against the refrigerator door, forcing it closed.
I then squeezed into the space between it and him, reached for either side of his kutte, and tugged him toward me.
He didn’t resist, and I soon had his lips on mine.
Except, as he kissed me, giving me exactly what I wanted, rather than turn me on, our hungry exchange broke me.
As our tongues fought for dominance, he grabbed hold of the front of my neck, coaxing my chin up and my head back—his grip every bit as possessive as he had the right to be. I was his, even if admitting it was nothing more than confirmation of my weakness.
Fuck.
Shit. Fuck .
How did I get here?
How had I let this happen?
My mind was in such a stormy fog, I didn’t realize I was crying until Ben pulled away from me abruptly. Looking up at him through the blur of my tears, I saw him scowling at me in confusion.
“Ali? What’s wrong?”
The truth rose in my throat like bile, making me want to gag. It wanted to be vomited out, but I swallowed it. I couldn’t tell him. I knew if I did, he’d never look at me the same way—and that broke me more than anything.
No one had ever wanted me the way he did.
I wasn’t ready to lose that.
I wasn’t ready to lose him .
“Sparky, say somethin’.”
It wasn’t until he demanded I speak that the sob I was holding back spilled out of me.
“I don’t—I don’t want to lose you,” I cried.
It was as much truth as I had to give.
The crease at his brow deepened as he shook his head at me.
“Is this about Scorpion?”
Reflexively, I stiffened at his name, and Ben noticed.
He tightened his grip around me, the tips of his fingers digging into the side of my neck just enough to remind me of his hold.
“I don’t want you worryin’ about him, hear me? He’s an old problem, not a new one. We’re handlin’ it, and I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He didn’t know the half of it—but for a moment, I wanted to bask in the comfort of his reassurance as if he did. I nodded as much as his hold would allow. When he let me go in order to wipe away my tears, I drew in a deep breath and willed myself to calm down.
“You hungry?” he asked for the second time.
I shook my head—the thought of food the furthest thing from my mind.
I didn’t need sustenance. I needed him .
“Take me to bed, brown-eyes,” I whispered.
He studied me for a beat, as if he was trying to assess if I was really okay. I’d been lying for years and was well practiced at donning a mask when I needed to—but I didn’t want to hide from him.
Instead of pretending everything was alright, I forced my mind back in time; back to the place I was when he walked into the bar and promised to fuck me in the storage closet.
I knew he was content with what he saw when he smirked at me before he took a step back, lowered himself, and shoved his shoulder against my hips. He hoisted me off my feet, draping me across his back, and I didn’t make a fuss. Still, as he carried me down the hallway, he smacked my ass anyway.
That was Benson.
My Stallion.
My daddy.
The slice of heaven I gripped with all my might.