Chapter Thirty-Seven
THE LIGHTS IN the backroom were hazy, by design not neglect. Smoke clung to the ceiling, thick as ghosts, and the scent of whiskey and money hung in the air like perfume. Cards slapped against felt, dice clattered sharp against wood, voices rose and fell with every win and loss.
I didn’t see any of it, my head just wasn’t here.
“Your face looks like it lost a huge bet,” Mystic said, elbowin’ me as he passed, arms full of chips he was haulin’ to the back table.
I grunted. “That’s just my face.”
Horse snorted from across the room, leanin’ against the bar like he’d been poured there, whiskey glass in his hand like he was born with it. “Nah, that ain’t it. You got that captured man look. Like some woman done locked you down and threw away the key.”
Mystic dropped the chips, turned with a grin sharp enough to cut. “Thunder’s found love. Where you been, Horse?”
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, scowlin’. “Maybe I’m just fuckin’ tired.”
“Tired of not gettin’ laid,” Horse muttered. “You’ve been a damn neutered dog lately. Weird as shit.”
Mystic nodded like it was gospel just to stir up shit, he knew damn well I was hooked on Sable. “Leena’s been tryin’ all damn night to fix that for you.”
I didn’t have to look. I could feel her across the room. Leena always made her presence known, bright laugh too loud, dress cut too low, hands lingerin’ too long when she slid chips across a table. She was workin’ one of the high rollers, but her eyes strayed my way like clockwork.
I didn’t bite.
“She ain’t my type,” I said flat.
Horse raised a brow, grinnin’. “Since when?”
I shrugged slow. “Since I gained some fuckin’ sense.”
Horse whistled low. “Damn. Cold as ice.”
“She’s not Sable,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
That shut ‘em up. Mystic tilted his head, a chip flipping lazy between his fingers before he caught it. His grin spread slow getting the reaction he’d hoped.
“Ohhh,” Horse chuckled. “So it is like that.”
“Why you assholes so fuckin’ nosey tonight?” I growled, but they were already laughin’.
Horse pushed off the bar, came over and dropped onto the stool beside me.
His eyes weren’t jokin’ now. “I’ve known you a long time, brother.
Ain’t never seen a woman get in your head like this.
You’d stare down a barrel without blinkin’, but you meet that little dark-haired girl and suddenly you’re standin’ around lookin’ like you forgot how to breathe. ”
“She’s not just anyone,” I said, quieter, the smoke makin’ my throat raw. “She’s… special. Knew it the second I laid eyes on her.”
Horse nodded, slow. His smirk was gone. “That kind of woman don’t come around but once.”
Mystic, not wantin’ to be outdone, grinned as he elbowed me again. “Yeah, and that kind of woman’s probably layin’ in bed right now wonderin’ if you’re thinkin’ about her. Meanwhile, Leena’s two steps from climbin’ in your lap just to get a reaction. That’s a disaster waitin’ to happen.”
I glanced toward the tables. Sure enough, Leena was bendin’ too low, laughin’ at somethin’ that wasn’t funny, flickin’ her hair like it was some kinda signal. When her eyes caught mine, she bit her lip.
I didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Just turned away.
Horse laughed as he stood, drainin’ the last of his whiskey. “Oh, Leena’s gonna be so fuckin’ pissed she can’t get your dick anymore.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I snapped, done with this shit.
Mystic sobered just a little, watchin’ me with that careful look of his. “Be careful, brother. You’re in deep. Just don’t drown in it before she figures out how to swim.”
He disappeared into the back room, leavin’ me with Horse’s laugh echoing in my ears, the reek of stale cigars, and the hollow ache that had been creepin’ into my chest since I left the clubhouse.
Sable.
She was probably curled up with the kids right now, her room dark and locked tight. Safe. For now.
And I needed to keep her that way.
Even if it meant standin’ here in the smoke and noise, watchin’ the world spin without her, pretendin’ I gave a damn about anything else.
***
HORSE WAS PARKED on the stool beside me, nursing his whiskey. Neither of us were talkin’ much, just watchin’ the tables, lettin’ the sound of cards hittin’ felt and dice clatterin’ sharp against wood fill the air.
Then Horse tipped his chin toward the far side. “You see him?”
I followed his gaze. New guy. Too clean. Boots polished, jacket sharp, hair slicked back like he was tryin’ to pass for a businessman. Sat stiff at the table, chips stacked untouched in front of him, no drink in hand. Just watchin’.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I see him.”
Horse snorted. “Looks like he walked in here from the wrong goddamn world. Don’t like it.”
I pushed off the bar, drifted closer casual-like, makin’ it look like I was just makin’ rounds. The stranger’s eyes tracked the dealer’s shuffle, but not like a man lookin’ for luck. Like a man waitin’ for a chance.
When the dealer slid him his cards, he didn’t even glance at ‘em. Just smiled thin, voice smooth. “I’m just passing through. Looking for family. My niece, she was headed for Charleston. Never made it, that old car she was driving may have given her trouble. Thought maybe someone here had seen her.”
The table went still. Too still.
Locals shifted in their seats. Nobody spoke. Dealer flipped the next card without lookin’ up.
My gut clenched. Niece. No mention of children. Close enough to be a story, close enough to be bait.
I stepped up to the edge of the table, arms crossed. “This ain’t the kind of place folks come askin’ about family,” I said, my eyes hard.
His smile didn’t move. “Sometimes answers show up in unlikely places.”
“You’re lost,” I told him flat. “Nobody here knows what you’re talkin’ about.”
He didn’t argue. Just pushed his untouched chips into the center of the table like he was settlin’ a debt, then stood smooth.
“Appreciate the time,” he said, and turned for the door.
I tracked his walk across the floor. That’s when I saw it, he slowed just enough to lean close to the bar.
Leena was standin’ there with a tray in her hand, dress cut low, smile already too bright.
He murmured somethin’, and she laughed quick, loud, like he’d just told the funniest thing she’d ever said.
Her hand brushed his arm before he stepped away.
Horse caught it too. “Well, fuck me. That don’t smell right.”
“I’m thinkin’ he knows too much already,” I muttered, my jaw tight.
Horse shook his head, eyes still on Leena. “She wasn’t close enough to hear him. And the way he looked at her? Didn’t seem like a man fishin’ for information. Looked more like a man lookin’ for a quick fuck.”
I grunted. He wasn’t wrong. Even Gabrial’s men had needs same as anyone else. Easy women, quick comfort, it didn’t take much.
“Maybe,” I said, still uneasy. “But I don’t like the way it played.”
Horse shook his head, eyes still on Leena. “Hell, brother, she probably only laughed like that ‘cause she saw you watchin’. You know how she is, half the shit she does is just tryin’ to get under your skin.”
The door swung shut behind the stranger, leavin’ only the stink of his cologne in his wake.
I turned toward the prospect workin’ near the bar, kid sharp-eyed, eager. Gave him a chin lift. “Follow him. Quiet. I want to know what he drives, where he beds down, who he talks to. Don’t let him make you.”
Prospect nodded once, slipped out the side door silent as smoke.
Horse swirled his whiskey. “So what you thinkin’?”
“That he knows about this place,” I said. “That’s bad enough. But if he’s sniffin’ around asking about his niece, broken down car, all that shit, it’s too close to coincidence. Devil’s gonna hear about it.”
Horse let out a long breath, shook his head. “Ain’t never simple, is it?”
I didn’t answer. My mind was already back at the clubhouse. Sable. Zara. Malik.
The stranger’s words clung like oil. My niece is missing…
Family didn’t come huntin’ in places like The Pit.
Only predators did.
***
THE HOUR WAS late when I left The Pit. My boots felt heavier than they should’ve, my shirt reekin’ of cigars and whiskey. The night air had a bite, but it didn’t clear the heat burnin’ behind my ribs.
I was thinkin’ about her.
By the time I pulled into the clubhouse lot, half the lights were out. Bikes lined up like shadows. Brothers either passed out or tangled up in the kind of company that didn’t ask questions. The place was quiet.
I walked the hall, the silence loud as hell after hours of cards and smoke. Empty bottles sat on the pool table like ghosts of louder hours. My hand found her doorknob without thinkin’.
I eased it open.
She wasn’t asleep.
Sable sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, her fingers buried in her hair like she was tryin’ to claw her way out of her own head. Shoulders shakin’. Breath ragged.
“Sable.”
Her head snapped up. Eyes wild, wet. She’d been cryin’, and not soft tears, hard ones, the kind that tear somethin’ inside on the way out.
I stepped in. “Nightmare?”
She didn’t answer, but I didn’t need her to. I knew that look. Knew what it was to wake up drownin’ in fire that ain’t there anymore but still burns under your skin.
I sat beside her, not touchin’, close enough she’d feel me there.
She stared at her hands like they didn’t belong to her. “I hate that he still gets in here,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I hate that I can’t stop seeing him even when I sleep.”
I reached for her hand, slow, lettin’ her have the choice. She didn’t pull away.
“Every time I close my eyes,” she went on, her chest rising too fast, “I see the flames. I hear his voice. And I swear I feel his hands—” her breath broke, “—and then I open my eyes and forget where I am.”
I squeezed her hand tighter. “You’re here. With me. He can’t touch you anymore.”
Her eyes met mine, glintin’ in the dim light. There was fear there, yeah, but under it, a spark. Fierce. Alive.
“I know that in my head,” she said. “But I want to feel it in my body.”
I went still. Every muscle tight.
She leaned closer, her voice sure now. “I don’t want him to be the last person who ever touched me. I don’t want his hands to be the only ones my skin remembers.”
My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. “Sable… you don’t gotta prove a damn thing. Not to me.”
“I’m not.” Her voice was iron now, wrapped in silk. “This isn’t about him. It’s about me. For once, I want something because I want it. Not because I was told. Not because I was forced. Because I choose it.”
Her hand slid up, fingers pressing against my chest, right over the hammer of my heart.
“I choose you.”
Everything in me screamed to back away, be the better man, keep her safe from me, from herself, from this. But she leaned in, lips brushing my jaw, then my mouth, soft at first, but sure. Deliberate.
The restraint I’d been holdin’ onto shredded.
“You sure?” My voice came out rough, like gravel in my throat.
She nodded once, eyes burnin’ into mine. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”
I kissed her slow, careful, like if I pressed too hard she’d vanish. But she didn’t. She kissed me back—hungry, fearless—and that lit a fire I couldn’t put out if I tried.
I pulled her into my lap, her legs slidin’ around me, her body pressed to mine. Warm. Real. Nothin’ like ghosts.
And I let go.
I wanted her. The way she wanted me—open, unafraid.
I wasn’t gonna break her. Hell, she wasn’t breakable. She was survival wrapped in scars and shadows, and she kissed me like a woman takin’ back what was stolen.
And I sure as hell wasn’t about to stop her.