Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Something shifted in Monk’s expression—respect, maybe, or understanding.
He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cell door, swinging it open with a metallic screech.
Stepping inside the cell, he groaned. “You’ve got to be the dumbest motherfucker I ever met.
This isn’t about hiding from shit, asshole.
This ensures you live to see another day.
This gives you and Hope a chance I never got.
Now take the fucking ring, put it on, and play your part.
If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to walk out of this place with your head still attached. ”
I stared at the gold band in Monk’s palm as the metal caught the dim light of the cell. The words hung between us, heavy with meaning I didn’t fully understand. But whatever Monk had lost, whatever grief he carried, it didn’t change what I had to do.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I said, my voice rough. “But I’m not going to lie my way out of this. Not to Reaper. Not to Ghost, and I’m sure as hell not going to lie to Hope.”
Monk’s jaw tightened, and for a moment I thought he might argue. Instead, he closed his fist around the ring and shoved it back into his cut. “Then you’re a dead man walking, Golden boy. Hope you know that.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I know.”
He shook his head, stepping back out of the cell. “Let’s go. Reaper’s waiting, and that man doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I pushed myself to my feet, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. My ribs felt like they were grinding against each other with each breath, and my vision blurred through my swollen left eye.
But I forced myself upright, forced myself to move.
If I was going to face judgment, I would do it standing on my own two feet.
The stairs were narrow and steep, each step sending fresh waves of pain through my torso. I gripped the railing with my good hand, my knuckles white, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Behind me, Monk’s heavy footsteps echoed in the stairwell.
At the top of the stairs, I could hear voices—low and tense and angry. Reaper’s voice, deep and commanding. Ghost’s voice, quieter but no less dangerous. Kansas’ voice, trying to mediate. And Shadow’s voice, raw with fury.
They were deciding my fate.
Monk reached past me and pushed open the door. The sudden brightness made me squint, and I had to blink several times before my vision adjusted. The room beyond was packed with bodies, Diamondback brothers lining the walls, Golden Skulls’ officers standing in a tight cluster near the center.
I barely had time to register the scene before Shadow was on me.
He moved fast. Faster than I expected, and his hand closed around my throat as he slammed me back against the wall. The impact drove the air from my lungs and sent white-hot pain exploding through my broken ribs.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Shadow seethed, his hand tightening around my throat.
I didn’t fight back. Didn’t try to break his grip. Just met his eyes and let him see that I understood his rage, that I accepted it.
Reaper, Ghost, and Sandman all grabbed for Shadow, trying to pull him off me.
“Come on, Zeke,” Ghost groaned, his hands locked around Shadow’s shoulders. “Let Reaper handle this.”
From across the room, I heard another voice, deep and irritated, shout, “Control your boy, Max! I can’t hear the fucking attorney!”
Through my narrowing vision, I saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with the hard look of someone who had seen too much violence and survived it all. His cut said Soulless Sinners MC. President patch. Montana Stone.
Reaper snarled, looking at the son of a bitch. “How about you put a fucking cork in the jailbird and get your lazy ass over here and help me?”
Montana grumbled as he stormed over, pushing his way through the brothers. Without warning, he punched Shadow square in the face, then pointed his finger at him and roared, “ENOUGH! I can only handle one asshole at a time. Behave!”
Shadow’s grip on my throat loosened as he staggered back, blood trickling from his split lip. “I’m not a fucking dog, you son of a bitch,” he snarled, shrugging off Ghost and Sandman before lunging for Montana.
Kansas jumped in front of him, his hands up. “Go walk it off, brother,” he ordered, pointing at Monk and Angel to go with him.
“He goes near my sister, I’ll kill him!” Shadow snapped as the two Diamondbacks shoved him toward the door.
I watched him go, my throat burning where his fingers had been, my ribs screaming with every shallow breath. The room fell into tense silence as the door slammed shut behind them.
Reaper turned to face me, and I saw retribution in his eyes. He stepped close—so close I could see the fury etched into every line of his face. Pointing a finger at me, he seethed, “Just what in the ever-loving fuck were you thinking?”
Montana chuckled. “I know the answer.”
Kansas groaned, slapping his brother upside the back of his head. “Not the time, dipshit.”
Reaper glared at Montana, who eventually held up his hands and walked back over to a man in a suit who stood looking shocked and a little uneasy.
The second Reaper turned to look back at me, I quickly said, “I know this looks bad, Reaper. You know me. Julie was my world. Ain’t no one ever gonna replace her.
I don’t know how it happened. One minute we were talking; the next. .. well, shit happened.”
“He caught you fucking his sister!” Reaper roared as several of the Diamondback brothers chuckled, and Ghost growled.
His words hit me like a physical blow, but I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “Yeah, that’s a problem,” I admitted.
Reaper growled, stepping so close I swore I could see the Devil in his eyes. Pointing a finger in my face, he sneered, “Stay the fuck away from Hope.”
My heart stopped. His words were a command, an order from my president. The man I had sworn to follow, to obey without question. But I couldn’t. Not this time.
“I can’t, Prez.”
Silence fell over the room like a blanket. Every eye turned to me, and I felt the weight of their stares—disbelief, anger, shock—as Reaper’s expression darkened. “Why the fuck not?”
I thought about Hope. About the way she had looked at me in the motel room, her eyes full of trust and love.
About the way she’d whispered I love you against my skin, like it was a prayer.
About the way she had claimed me in front of everyone at the Diamondback clubhouse, even knowing what it would cost her.
I thought about the gold band Monk had offered me.
Insurance, he’d called it. My ticket to freedom.
A small little lie that might save my life and for the first time since I put on the Golden patch, I chose a woman over my brothers.
“’Cause I married her.”
My words fell into the silence like stones into still water, sending ripples of shock through the room.
Mouths fell open. Eyes went wide. Even Montana, usually quick with a sarcastic jab, was momentarily stunned into speechlessness.
Reaper blinked, almost certain he had misheard me.
Loud whistles from a few Diamondback brothers quickly died out as the tension thickened the air.
My hands curled into fists at my sides while I fought to keep my composure, waiting for Reaper’s condemnation.
But it was Ghost who moved first.
He roared—a sound of pure, primal rage—and shoved Reaper out of the way as he tackled me to the floor. My broken ribs screamed as we hit the ground, and then his fists were raining down on me, beating the ever-loving shit out of me.
I didn’t fight back. Didn’t try to block the blows.
Just curled my arms over my head and let him take his pound of flesh, because I understood his fury.
I claimed to have married her without her brother’s knowledge or blessing.
Ghost’s fists connected with my jaw, my ribs, and my kidneys.
Each impact sent fresh explosions of pain through my body, but I gritted my teeth and took it.
Took every hit, every curse, every ounce of his rage.
Because I deserved it and because no matter what he did to me, I would die before I let anyone take her from me.