Chapter Thirty-Four
THE RUMBLE OF her silence was worse than any fight I’d ever taken a punch in. Roxy was gone. Warden had made sure of it. No second chances. No loose ends.
Should’ve been a win. Instead it sat in me like sand in a wound. Because the poison she’d left behind was still in Wren’s chest, and I hadn’t been there to rip it out before it sank.
The war room felt too damn big while I waited for my brothers.
The walls, the carved-up table, even the chairs seemed to hold the weight of voices that had planned wars, voted men in and out, buried brothers.
My cut dragged on my shoulders. My fists hurt from clenching, knuckles begging for something to bleed on.
The door opened. Warden came in first, grounded as always, like a man walking to his own execution without blinking.
Rex, Hex, Maul, and Scyth filled in behind him.
Throttle slid in last after making sure Wren was locked down safe.
I clocked him without turning my head, and the urge to put him through the wall burned hot. Didn’t matter if it was my fuck-up.
“We need to talk about Bones,” Warden said. His voice was flat, controlled, like he was built without nerves. He dropped into a chair, leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We haven’t got one fucking lead. No sightings, no movement, nothing.”
“That’s not good,” Rex muttered. His arms folded across his chest, tattoos shifting with the motion. “Quiet men don’t stay quiet unless they’ve got plans.”
Maul hunched over the table, palms spread wide. “We worked every contact we got. Nothing. No shipments. No runs. Like he disappeared.”
“He didn’t disappear,” I snapped, pacing the edge of the room. My boots scraped the floor. “He’s waiting. And if he had eyes inside this clubhouse, he knows exactly where to strike.”
Throttle shifted, jaw tight. “Could’ve been Roxy. The way she slipped into corners, always listening. She hated Wren. Wanted you. Makes sense she’d open the door for him.”
“Could’ve,” Warden said, no lift in his voice. “But we’ll never know. She’s gone. Bones is still out there.”
The silence that followed was thick, pressing, like the desert heat in August. No one wanted to say it, but it was true: Roxy wasn’t smart enough to run that game alone. If Bones had been inside, then someone else under our roof had handed him the key.
My teeth ground until I tasted iron. “I don’t care if it was Roxy or some other rat. Bones is circling, and Wren’s already bleeding for it. I’m not letting him cut deeper.”
Warden’s eyes locked on mine, cold and unwavering. “Then get your head straight. This isn’t a brawl in the street. This is a war you don’t win with rage.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, chest burning. He was right. Didn’t matter. The fury still boiled hot under my skin.
“She won’t even look at me,” I said, my voice rough.
“Then earn it back,” Warden shot back, cutting as a knife.
The words landed, and I swallowed hard. “I didn’t touch Roxy. Not once since Wren’s been here.”
“She doesn’t know that,” Warden said, colder still. “Because you let silence speak for you. You left her with doubt. And you can’t swing your way out of that. You’ll have to bleed it out slow.”
The table under my hands begged for me to break it, but I stayed put. Dropped into a chair instead, jaw locked, fury rattling my ribs like storm wind against a tin roof.
“She’s mine,” I muttered. Not loud. Not for them. For me. “I’m not letting her slip.”
“Then don’t,” Warden said. He stood, shadow falling across the table. “But remember—Bones is patient. And silence eats slower, but it eats deeper. Don’t let either of them swallow her whole.”
One by one, the men stood. Rex tapped ash into a tray. Hex scribbled something on a pad. Maul shoved his chair back hard enough to squeal. Throttle left without a glance. Boots echoed against the floor, then faded, leaving me with the hum of the lights and the stink of old smoke.
I stayed. Stared at the empty chairs until they blurred. In my head, I saw her curled under a blanket, gripping her silence like a weapon and a shield. And I knew before Bones made his next move, before he cut another line of blood across this club, I had to break through hers.
Not with talk. Not with promises. With proof. With action. With the kind of truth no one could twist.
Because silence was killing her slow. And I wasn’t gonna let Bones finish the job.
***
IT WAS PAST midnight, the clubhouse quiet except for the rain dripping steady off the gutters outside. I should’ve been dead on my feet, but sleep wouldn’t come. Not with her silence gnawing a hole through me.
Walking past her door, I froze.
The sound cut through me like a blade, her voice, soft but broken, whimpering in the dark. A nightmare.
Before I thought twice, I had the key in my hand. The lock clicked quiet, and I slipped inside.
The room was dark, shadows stretching long across the walls. She twisted in the sheets, her face pinched, breath ragged. My chest tightened. She’d been carrying this weight too long, and now I’d made it worse.
I stripped down to my boxers, dropped my cut on the chair, and slid under the covers. She startled when I pulled her against me, body stiff, hands pushing weakly at my chest.
“Ashen—” her voice cracked, raw with sleep and tears.
I held her tighter, my face pressed into her hair. “Shh. It’s me. You’re safe.”
She tried to shift again, but I didn’t let her go. Not this time. Not until she knew the truth.
“You think I lied to you,” I said softly, the words rough in my throat. “Think I kept quiet because there was something to hide. But you’ve got it wrong.”
She stilled, her breath jagged against my chest.
“I haven’t touched Roxy in months,” I went on. “Not before I found you. Not since. She kept throwing herself at me, thinking she could crawl her way into my bed. I shut her down every time. That’s why she’s bitter. That’s why she came for you. It was a trap, Wren. That’s all it’s ever been.”
Her fingers curled into the sheet, silent, but she didn’t try to move again.
I cupped the back of her head, forcing her closer. “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I didn’t say her name because she doesn’t fucking matter. You do. You’re the only one I see. The only one I want.”
Her breath hitched, and for a second I thought she’d break, push me away again. Instead, she whispered, so faint I almost missed it, “Then why did it hurt so much?”
The words gutted me.
“Because you care,” I said, keeping my voice quiet but fierce.
“And because you’re mine now. I love you, Wren.
Too much to let her poison touch what we’ve got.
I should’ve told you, yeah. Should’ve burned that lie out before it hit your ears.
But don’t mistake my silence for betrayal.
I’d rather cut my own throat than betray you. ”
Her hand finally loosened, resting against my chest. Her body sagged into me, still trembling, but not fighting.
I kissed her temple, breathing her in. “You’ve got scars, Wren. So do I. But I’m not letting them own us. Not anymore. Not Roxy. Not Venom. Not Bones. Nobody.”
Slowly, her breath evened, the fight leaving her. She nestled closer, her face pressed against my skin. I held her tighter, my heart pounding steady against her cheek, and whispered again, “I love you. That’s the only truth that matters.”
And this time, she didn’t pull away.
Her breathing steadied against me, little by little, until the jagged edges smoothed out. She was still curled tight, still holding herself like she might shatter, but she wasn’t fighting me anymore.
I brushed my lips over her hair. “That’s it, Wren. Just rest.”
The storm outside had eased, the rain now a steady patter against the windows. Every drop sounded like a clock ticking, like the world out there was waiting for its chance to rip her from me.
Not a chance.
Her fingers twitched against my chest, as if she wanted to hold on but was too tired to try. I caught her hand, laced my fingers through hers, and anchored it there over my heart.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured. “Even when you’re mad at me. Even when you think I’ve failed. You’re mine, Wren, and I’ll bleed out before I let anyone prove different.”
Her breath hitched once more, then went soft, slipping into sleep.
I stayed awake, eyes fixed on the shadows shifting across the ceiling. My cut was draped over the chair, my gun within reach on the nightstand. The whole world could come clawing at that door, and I’d still keep her here in my arms.
Because this wasn’t about promises anymore. It was about protection. About love. About making sure the one person who’d trusted me with her scars never had to doubt me again.
Long after her breathing went even, I stayed there holding her, keeping watch, daring anyone — Bones, Ghosts, the whole goddamn desert — to try me.