Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
MAVERICK
It’s been almost a month since I last heard from Ember.
She won’t take my calls and every time I check in with Elijah, his answer is always the same: she’s fine, just not ready to talk.
I’m doing my best to respect her need for space, but the silence is gnawing at me.
Still, life can’t stop just because mine is a shit show right now and Barrister Holdings isn’t going to run itself.
I reluctantly put Steel in charge at the compound, knowing I have to be in the office to keep everything on track.
I’m also waiting on a call from Jameson tonight about an issue with one of the drug mules, and it looks like we’ll have to handle it directly.
After a quick greeting from Sarah, my assistant, I grab my messages and step into my office, closing the door behind me.
That’s when I notice it; a thick, official looking envelope sitting on my desk, my name printed in bold letters across the front.
Sitting down, my stomach twists in knots as I pick it up.
My hands tremble slightly as I tear it open and each page I flip through sharpens the cold weight settling over me.
The words Petition for Divorce hit me like a hammer, crushing my heart.
Despite everything that happened, I held onto a thin strand of hope thinking time and space might help her see past the pain and find it in her heart to forgive me.
But here it is, in black and white… she’s done.
Every line in this document feels like a blade, twisting and reminding me just how far we’ve fallen.
Ember is choosing to close the door on us, officially closing this chapter on our lives together.
My double life has cost me the one woman I’ve ever truly loved and for the first time in years, I’m left feeling lost.
This is no longer about my betrayal or a wound that might heal over time.
She’s choosing a future that doesn’t include me and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
My eyes fall on a second, smaller manilla envelope beside the divorce papers, Ember’s handwriting on the front.
My pulse quickens as I open it, hoping for something, anything to hold on to.
But inside is her resignation, effective immediately.
It’s written like any ordinary resignation letter, yet there’s a chill in her words as if everything we shared never existed.
The final blow nearly pushes me over the edge, my heart sinking as I discover something else tucked inside the envelope… her wedding ring.
She’s not just leaving me, she’s leaving every part of the life we built together.
I grip the letter as if holding it might somehow keep a piece of her close, one last time.
But the reality hits hard, stealing the breath from my lungs.
Ember sees me for the monster I am and her heart has no room left for forgiveness or love.
This can’t be the end of our story. I’ve given her space, just like she asked, but now I need to see her, need her to look me in the eyes and tell me it’s truly over.
If there’s anything worse than the miles stretching between me and home right now, it’s this hellish gridlock keeping me stuck in one place with nothing but my own thoughts for company.
Atlanta traffic on any given day is backed up, but on Fridays, you can kiss your evening goodbye.
It feels like the universe is taunting me, delaying what I know will be a confrontation with Ember.
I don’t understand why she’s completely shutting me out, why she’s giving up on us without talking to me.
As I finally pull onto our street, my chest tightens, unsettling me as if something bad is about to happen.
And then I see it. A “For Sale” sign planted squarely on the lawn, standing like a final blow in a long series of hits that have unraveled my life.
My mind struggles to process as I throw the car into park, staring at the sign, the house, and having this overwhelming feeling of emptiness.
The warmth we’d built here is gone, just like Ember.
Stepping out of the car, I trudge up the stairs, each step dragging under the weight of the memories this place holds…
Ember’s laughter in the kitchen, our late-night talks on the porch, and all the plans we made for a future that now feels like nothing more than an illusion.
Legally she doesn’t need my permission to put our house on the market since her name’s on the deed.
But I thought I’d at least have a say in the decision.
Frustration cuts through the sadness, sharp and unyielding. Pulling out my phone, I call Elijah, knowing there’s no chance Ember will pick up.
After a few rings he finally picks up. “Elijah, tell me where she is, now!” I demand, doing my best to dial back the anger in my voice.
There’s a pause on the other end before he responds and he’s lucky he isn’t standing in front of me.
“Mav, I know you’re upset, but that’s not happening.”
“That ain’t up to you old man,” I bite back, my voice tight. “I need to talk to my wife and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I get you’re upset, but you need to check that tone or Ember won’t be the only problem you have,” he states with an edge to his voice. “My loyalty is to my daughter. She asked for space and I’m gonna make sure she gets it.”
“If you hadn’t…,” I start to fire back, but he cuts me off.
“No, Mav. If you hadn’t lied, you wouldn’t be dealing with this. I trusted you to protect her and you chose to fall in love with her. This is all on you.”
His words slice through me, the truth unavoidable. He’s right. I let my own selfishness lead me down this path and it’s brought Ember nothing but pain. Suddenly I feel the full weight of it, exhaustion settling over me.
“Fine,” I murmur, my anger dissolving into resignation. “Just… tell her I need to talk to her. Please.”
“I’ll tell her,” Elijah replies, his voice softening. “But the decision is hers and hers alone.”
He ends the call and the silence that follows leaves a hollow ache in my chest. How did we get here?
How did we come to a place where she won’t even speak to me, as if everything we shared meant nothing?
If she would just give me a moment to explain, maybe she can find it in her heart to forgive me.
Even if she still wants the divorce, I could accept it as long as she knows that everything I did was because I love her and truly believed I was protecting her in the only way I knew how.
As I head toward my car, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
For a split second, I’m hoping it’s Ember, finally willing to talk.
But when I glance at the screen, it’s Jameson, calling earlier than planned and the hairs on the back of my neck, stand up.
Jameson’s voice cuts through the line, tense and urgent.
“Mav, listen up. We’ve got a big problem. The mules are heading to the abandoned Hulsey Yard near the Atlanta Beltline for the meetup, but I got some intel that they’re walking into an ambush and I haven’t been able to reach any of them. Word is, they’re gonna kill them and take the drugs.”
“How many perps are we looking at?” I inquire, as my grip tightens on the phone, my adrenaline spiking.
“Not sure, but it sounds like maybe ten or more and they’re packing a lot of heat,” he replies. “You and the rest of the Bastards need to get there fast and handle this shit quickly. He’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Got it. We’ll be on our way,” I respond, already getting in my car, tearing out of the driveway. Anyone who messes with Royal Bastards’ business better be ready for a fight they won’t win, and I’m just pissed off enough to roll some heads tonight.
“And, Mav? I need you to send a clear message to these assholes not to fuck with my operation again or the consequences will be worse than anything they can ever imagine.”
“I’ll make sure they get the message and then some,” I say before he hangs up.
I immediately dial Steel, telling him to gather everyone and have them ready to roll when I get there.
“Pack the van heavy. No chances tonight,” I add, my voice sharp letting him know that this is not a drill.
After what happened to Renegade, we can’t afford anyone getting hurt and the mules have to make it through in one piece.
If things go sideways, Jameson will bring down hell on Atlanta, taking out everyone involved.
We’d end up in his crosshairs too and I’m in no mood to deal with that shit.
Parking a quarter mile down the road, we move in low through the shadows of the train yard, careful not to make any noise.
Ahead, three of our mules are down on their knees, guns pointed at the backs of their heads.
In the dim lighting, it’s hard to make out who’s holding them hostage, but these fuckers must have a death wish to mess with Jameson’s operation.
Two of them circle the mules like vultures, snarling threats about other mules and drop times.
Wanting to know the other meet up locations and who’s in charge of distribution.
Five other men, stand a few feet away, keeping watch of the surrounding area.
“You think we’re playin’ around?” the one I assume is the leader, snarls, pressing his gun against a mule’s chin. “One word from me, and your families disappear. Where are the other mules?” He demands, but our guy remains quiet, refusing to break.
I signal to my men to spread out and stay sharp.
They nod, fingers steady on their weapons, waiting for my command to move in.
The tension is heavy in the cool evening air, fueling my need for a swift, brutal end to this mess.
Locking eyes with Steel, I point toward the guy issuing threats, silently telling him to take him down first. Within seconds, gunfire splits the night, the sound echoing off metal containers and concrete, igniting chaos.
The mules drop to the ground, scrambling for cover as bullets start flying.
The assholes whip around, guns drawn, firing back.
Sparks fly off steel containers as I charge forward, leading my men into the fray.
Today’s been hell and right now, this fight is exactly what I need to channel my anger.
My priority is to eliminate the immediate threat and secure our people.
Ducking behind a stack of pallets, I return fire, my aim steady, taking out three of them as I advance.
Steel and Vandal fan out, taking cover a few yards away, picking off more of the gang.
That’s my chance to reach the mules and secure them.
But just for a moment, my mind strays… to Ember.
Thoughts of her flood in, dredging up an ache I’ve tried to shake.
This isn’t the time to be distracted, but damn if I don’t feel the weight of losing her and the love I drove away by hiding my real life from the one person I should’ve trusted with everything.
It all happens so fast. Bullets whiz by as pain explodes in my side, ripping through me.
The impact forcing me back against a stack of crates.
I’d almost reached the mules, when Steel’s shouts snap me out of it, urging me to fall back.
The shooter is in my line of sight, but before I can take aim, he fires again, the bullet just missing me as Steel takes him out.
The adrenaline pumping through my veins dulls the edge of the pain but this shit burns like a motherfucker.
Pressing my hand into my side, the warmth of my blood seeps through my fingers, and I realize this is bad… real fucking bad.
“Keep pushing!” I order, needing my men to keep the pressure on instead of stopping to help me. Vandal covers the last few feet, hustling the mules to safety.
Lone Wolf’s voice breaks through the haze. “Mav! You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I grunt, shoving the pain and thoughts of Ember aside as I push off the ground.
I don’t have the luxury of weakness because my men are counting on me.
Movement on the ground catches my eye as one of the shooters take aim and just as he gets a shot off, Steel rushes past me, taking him down, but not before his shot slices through my chest.
My vision blurs, the searing pain dropping me to my knees. Out of all my years in the Royal Bastards, I’ve never been shot, and fuck it hurts. I hit the ground hard and Steel’s there in a flash, his face tense with worry.
“We got them all, Mav,” he tells me, crouching beside me. “Mules are safe.”
“Guess Jameson will have to find another excuse to chew us out,” I chuckle weakly, trying to lighten my brothers expressions. We’ve seen injuries before, but fuck, losing Renegade last week hit us all hard. I can’t really blame them for the looks on their faces.
“Stay with me, Prez,” Steel says urgently, pressing his hand to my chest wound as Lone heads for the van. My breaths are shallow, each one harder than the last. “We’re getting you to the hospital.”
“If… I … don’t…” my words catch, as I struggle to speak. “Steel… tell Ember… I… love her.”
“You tell her yourself, Mav,” he retorts, his voice tight with determination to keep me alive.
Every breath scalds my lungs, the pain cutting deeper.
Darkness closes in on my vision as exhaustion floods through me.
As my awareness fades, my mind circles back to Ember, to everything I’ll never get the chance to say.
If fucking up was an Olympic sport, I’d win the gold.
Tires screech nearby as Steel and the others lift me, rushing me into the van, but I can’t hold on any longer.
The shadows welcome me, a strange peace settling within, as if my demons have finally come to claim their due.