Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
MAVERICK
My mind is a storm as I pull into the compound.
The place I’d always seen as my sanctuary now feels cold and hollow.
Killing the engine, I remain seated on my bike, staring out at the rows of motorcycles and the clubhouse beyond, all blurring together.
The weight of Ember’s words crash over me again, each one cutting deeper, like they’re etched into my skin.
Leaving our home felt like I ripped out my own fucking heart.
With nothing but silence around me, the reality hits me hard…
a future without her and a house we built together, left behind.
Everything I’d fought to protect, both in my life and the club, suddenly feels like it’s slipping away, leaving me in a freefall.
Anger and desperation claw at my veins, urging me to act, to regain control somehow. But where do I even start?
Taking a long, deep breath, I run my hands over my face, trying to calm the storm raging in my mind.
I can’t lose her, not over this. But I shattered her trust, splintered it in ways I’m not sure I can repair.
My loyalty to my club and my wife has always clashed, but this time the stakes were higher, and I paid the price.
Now, I need to figure out if there’s a way back or if I have to live with this emptiness.
Right now, all I want is a stiff drink and a game of pool to dull the ache.
Heading up the stairs, the front gate opening catches my attention, its loud creak filling the space.
At this hour, it can only mean Lone Wolf and Bianca getting in from Peaches.
But as the gate begins to close, headlights flood the dark road behind them, making my gut tighten.
Within seconds, the roar of engines surrounds them and the unmistakable insignia of the Road Reapers glints in the dim light.
Bianca sprints toward the house and Lone whips his bike around, positioning himself to give her a head start.
The heavy metal gate manages to keep most of the Reapers out, but enough slip through to cause a big problem.
The commotion must’ve alerted my men because the front door swings open and every Bastard barrels out, weapons ready to meet the threat head-on.
Nightmare tosses me his spare gun and we charge toward the gate to handle business.
With their engines silenced, the Reapers dismount, guns at the ready, outnumbered but still looking for a fight.
“I’m here to collect what’s mine,” Blade announces, voice low and challenging. “Bianca belongs to me, and I’m not leaving without her.”
The tension between us is electric, charging the air, adding to an already tense night. These fuckers picked the perfect night to show up at my door, trying to claim what isn’t theirs. The mood I’m in? Busting up some Reapers is exactly what I’m itching for.
“Seems you’re spending more time on our turf than your own lately,” I say, meeting his glare. “Not sure what game you think you’re playing, but I told you to keep away from Bianca.”
Blade chuckles, crossing his arms. “You think the Royal Bastards hold all the power around here?” He sneers.
“We don’t back down from a fight. So get used to us being around unless you’re ready to give me back what’s mine!
” He raises his voice, but the edge falls flat.
His attempt at intimidation is a complete fail.
“If you don’t get out of here right now, I’ll make sure every mile back to your clubhouse is pure hell,” I growl, watching as this motherfucker smirked just like he did at Peaches. Before this night is over, I’m going to knock that grin right off his face.
“You can’t protect her forever. The second you slip, even a little, we’ll be here, ready to take her,” he taunts, his tone dripping with arrogance.
“Try me, asshole,” I snap, stepping forward. “But know this… if you come at us again, show up at Peaches, or even get within sight of Bianca, you’ll be leaving more than your pride on the pavement.” He pauses, sizing me up, likely trying to decide if I mean what I say. I don’t flinch.
“We’ll see if you’re as tough as you talk,” Blade sneers, giving a mocking salute as he backs away. “Let’s go, boys,” he commands, and each Reaper mounts their bike, eyes locked on us. We stay rooted in place, watching them closely in case they try anything.
A heartbeat later, a gunshot rings out from the gate, shattering the silence.
Chaos erupts as we return fire, unleashing hell on the Reapers.
Flashes of gunfire slice through the night, filling the compound with deafening shots.
Several Reapers fall, bodies hitting the ground like dominoes.
The adrenaline-fueled clash fades as we overpower them, ending their sorry ass attempt at a coup.
Raising my fist to signal a cease fire, I walk over to Blade, who’s lying on the ground, grunting in pain, blood streaming from his thigh and shoulder.
“Steel, open the gate,” I order, crouching down to make sure this fucker hears me loud and clear.
“Don’t ever cross the line of Dekalb County again or I’ll make sure your clubhouse burns to the ground with every last one of you trapped inside,” I sneer, pressing the barrel of my gun into the wound on his thigh.
Blade screams, his face contorted in agony as I press down harder, showing him that I mean that shit from my soul.
His remaining men stumble through the gate, hands raised, casting wary glances at the bodies of their fallen brothers.
“Pick up your dead, drag your pussy ass Prez out of here, and get the fuck off my property,” I command, my tone frigid. “You started this mess, now clean it up.”
They exchange looks, anger simmering beneath the fear in their eyes, but none are foolish enough to reach for their weapons.
“Take your fallen and go,” I warn. “And let this be your last reminder… come here again, and you’ll all end up the same way.”
“We don’t have a way to transport them,” one Reaper mutters.
“That’s your problem, not mine,” I reply coldly.
Another hesitates, protesting, “We can’t just mount them on our bikes.”
Cocking my gun, I press it to his temple, his hands shoot up in surrender.
“Load your trash on those fucking bikes or I’ll end you right here,” I fume, not wanting to waste any more time on this.
“Do as he says, Tank,” Blade mutters weakly, his voice barely carrying but clear enough for his men to obey.
They reluctantly begin moving, lifting their fallen with grim expressions, knowing they’re leaving with more than just bodies…
they’re leaving with a warning they won’t soon forget.
Hopefully, this is the end of this shit and we can finally move on.
I make a mental note to get the full story from Bianca about why the Reapers are so determined to take her.
It’s got to be more than her being Blade’s ol’lady and he wants her back.
“Check the perimeter, inside and out. Make sure no one’s hiding on the property,” I order, glancing at the blood splattered across the ground. Dementor will have this cleaned up by morning like it never happened.
“Hey Prez!” Steel shouts, his voice tight with panic. “Get over here, quick!” I bolt toward the line of bushes by the gate, feeling dread settle in as I see Steel kneeling next to a body. My heart sinks when I see it’s Renegade, lying sprawled on the ground, a gunshot wound in his chest.
“Jesus, Renegade,” I mutter, crouching down beside him, checking for a pulse.
It was faint but it was there. He’s barely breathing, his chest struggling with every rise and fall.
This was the single gunshot that rang out while the Reapers were leaving.
One of Blade’s men outside the gate must’ve gotten a clear shot and took it.
Fucking coward. My prospect’s down and by the looks of it, he’s not going to make it.
I haven’t felt this helpless since Ember’s kidnapping.
“Steel, call an ambulance. I’ll stay with him,” I sigh, knowing this may be his last few moments.
“You did good brother. You held strong, kept them from getting close to the clubhouse,” I mutter, gripping his hand.
His face is pale, his breaths labored, but he manages a faint smile.
I’m trying to be strong, but despite being a prospect, Renegade is family and he didn’t deserve to go out like this.
“Only… ever wanted to prove… I had it in me,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. His gaze is unfocused but determined, emitting a strength that few men have.
“You proved it a thousand times over,” I assure him, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re one of us Renegade, always will be.” His grip loosens, slipping from my hand. “Rest now brother. We’ll carry this fight forward. Your name… it won’t be forgotten. Now go give the devil hell.”
With a final breath, his eyes close, leaving a heavy silence and the weight of his sacrifice.
Renegade died, protecting us, charging into the fight knowing full well what was at stake.
He’ll get his full patch, a member of the Royal Bastards, in every way that counts.
Steel’s going to be crushed. He gave Ren a lot of shit, but he believed in him and knew he’d be a strong addition to the club.
He was ride or die and it showed in everything he did.
Aging out of foster care, Renegade had no family to speak of.
He was lost, just trying to find his way, something real to define who he was.
With us, he found his family and I’ll make sure he has a proper send-off.
We’ll ride in his honor and celebrate the man he became.
Soon, the ambulance arrives, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the clubhouse.
We stand by silently as they carefully lift Renegade’s body onto the stretcher.
The quiet broken only by the hum of voices and the muffled sobs of a few ol’ladies.
My mind replays the night’s events on an endless loop.
The ambush, the deafening gunfire, and the crushing loss of a brother.
Renegade’s last words echo in my mind and the quiet resolve in his eyes as he faded.
He’d given, more than anyone expected, and it had cost him everything.
Tonight wasn’t just another fight, it was a reminder of the fragile line we walk and what we stand for.
Taking a deep breath, I look over at my men, their faces hard but somber.
Though I have my own shit to deal with concerning Ember, my priority now is to lead them through this grief, making sure that Renegade’s memory becomes our strength, not a call to anger.
This night’s seen enough bloodshed. And with the text I received from Jameson yesterday, I know we have Royal Bastards business to take care of.