Chapter 2
Penelope
This is all of my fault.
Sure, I wasn’t the one who threw molotovs through the windows of Diesel’s tattoo shop, but I might as well be the person who lit the cloth.
Reaching my shared room with my sister, I’m flipping on the light switch so I can see.
“Dude.” Raven grimaces at my panic, not understanding the guilt that’s clawing at me. She groans because of her lack of sleep, demanding that I shut the light off. She curses when I don’t.
Raven likes sleeping in until the afternoon rolls around. If she’s up early, she’s not very fun to be around.
Right now, I can’t think of that. I need to find that list. I know I kept it somewhere.
Spotting our basket full of dirty clothes, I move in a blur. Clawing for last night’s clothing, I know what I’m looking for will be inside.
Digging through the back pocket of the jeans, stained with alcohol and grease, I pull out the folded paper. Unfolding it, I stare at looped cursive.
Eliza Parsons.
Haven Barker
Ruby Higgens
The list continues with more well-known names, all women who are important to the club members.
Staring at the last two names, my heart clenches deep in my chest.
Penelope Porter.
Raven Porter.
The last names they’ve found make me dizzy as I read them over. Our mother’s last name. Not any of the last names the waves of foster parents tried to force onto us, but the very source of who we really are.
Those two names are effectively forgotten, with their bodies discovered by the appropriate authorities. No one should be aware of these names.
Last night, I was distracted by everyone’s drink demands to notice what I’d been given. Right now, it’s just me all alone in my head. Not exactly the best combo.
“Penelope?” Raven sits up, the exhaustion falling from her eyes as she hears my panicked breathing. Sliding from her bed, she’s in front of me in a matter of seconds. Her hands squeeze my arms, all in hopes of grounding me. “Breathe with me.”
As a teenager, I was prone to panic attacks. With the stress of moving home to home, meeting people who didn’t have good intentions, I’ve always been on edge. I thought I had grown out of this childish behavior after coming here.
“I knew Judge was already stressed, but I didn’t want to add to it.” The excuse leaves me as I clutch the paper, my fingers trembling. “He’s going to be mad. I… I didn’t even think about it.”
Her grip digs deeper into me, the pain aching. Repeating her demand, I try to steady my breathing. Matching mine with hers, I’m left pinching my eyes shut.
Everyone in the club has been stressed, and at night, it’s been nice to find a little relief. The one time I try to enjoy myself, to forget, all of this goes down.
She interrupts my attempt to apologize. Her presence floods my mind, but I gradually find calm.
Raven relaxes, but her frown remains.
“Now, repeat after me. I did nothing wrong.”
“But—” Raven growls, and I wince. “I did nothing wrong.”
I don’t believe the words, but saying them has reassured her a little bit. She releases me, leaving my body sore and aching. She’s too intense for her own good.
As my pulse steadies, my eyes fall to my hands.
“Now… You want to tell me what the hell this is all about?” She shakes her head. “You don’t want to make Judge upset, that I get. But what about everything else?”
Right. Details are helpful. It’s not normal for me to just have a panic attack on a random morning.
I tell her about Diesel and his shop, about the note I was handed while the two of us were busy. Spilling word-vomit all over her, I’m left panting.
“What if… what if this is their demand? If we go talk to this guy, maybe they’ll leave the club alone.” Trying to sound hopeful, it’s squashed with Raven’s curse as she grabs the paper from my fingers.
“You think a sex trafficker wants all of these women just to talk?” She glares at the names, her scowl growing deeper. “Come on. You can’t be serious.”
I’ve never been the type to have to think about problem-solving. It’s pathetic thinking about it now, but whenever there’s been a bump in the road, there’s always been someone standing in front of me to take on the hard parts.
Raven protected me through our teenage years, letting me hide in her shadow while she used her fists to take care of the problems. After that, we met Judge.
“I don’t want Judge to get hurt.” Muttering the truth, my cheeks warm. “I don’t want any of them to, I mean.”
She lets out a soft sigh, her face relaxing as she folds it back up. “Well, stop blaming yourself. Honestly, they were going to do something, anyway. Destiny is enough proof behind their retaliation. She’ll blame herself too, so try not to say anything to her.”
Destiny, right. Poor woman was one of many Hammer and Warden let free when Ripper took Haven to save Trouble.
“Judge is going to call a meeting once he comes back with Diesel. They’ll discuss what they’ll do, and after that, just pull him aside.
Tell him what you told me, not the part about going to talk to that fuck.
He won’t like it. Stick with the facts. He won’t be mad at you. If he is, I’ll give him a black eye.”
Her serious tone makes me laugh. I don’t know if that’s her goal, but her frown lessens.
I care about the man very much. The last thing I want is for my sister to go after him and risk us losing our home.
Nodding my head to her instructions, I force down this bad feeling in my gut and let her try to salvage whatever sleep she can get.
* * *
Hammer’s the first to make his appearance once their meeting wraps up, stealing away my excuse of a distraction. Then Ripper pulls Haven away.
Stacks needs whisky, stressed about whatever was discussed. Warden opts to join him.
Poor Diesel is still radiating with rage, and I can’t find the strength to meet his gaze. He fills in his prospects of what’s going on, and I hear Ghost’s name thrown around. Then, he drags Kansas out with him, hopefully going to the clinic to see Ruby.
Waiting for the doors to open again, my stomach clenches up when Raven appears. She’s exhausted, for good reason.
“Go find him.” She jerks her chin. “Now.”
She wants me to run right into the solid being of my anxiety instead of running away. Yeah, sure. I can do that.
Using my gelatin legs to carry me away from the bar, I leave the room and head toward the back. Assuming he’s still in the same room, I stop at the closed door.
He doesn’t like me coming inside. I’ve suggested sitting in on a meeting only once before, out of pure curiosity, and he shut me down before I could even finish the question.
My mouth pinches at the memory, a sour taste on my tongue. I lift my hand, the knock on the door too soft, too unsure. It’s the sound of an apology before a word is spoken, before I push it open.
He’s inside, a king slumped in a throne of his own making. The high-backed chair doesn’t hold him; he sinks into it, defeated by a weight only he can feel. His brows are drawn tight, and his focus is solely on the gavel resting on the table.
“Judge?” My voice is a fleeting whisper, a shadow of the confidence I long to possess. I take in the landscape of his face—the deep grooves of exhaustion, the shadows pooling beneath his eyes. He looks ravaged, a man pushed to the very edge of his own endurance.
The instinct to cup his face, to smooth the tension from his bearded cheeks with my thumbs, to draw the poison of his stress into my own body so he might breathe for just one moment grows strong.
He lifts his gaze.
A shiver, cold and sharp, traces the line of my spine. Our eyes meet, and I’m staring into darkness. His frown isn’t just an expression; it’s a barricade.
“I’m not in the right mindset right now, Pen.” The words are flat, but beneath them, I hear the low, dangerous hum of rage. “Can it wait?”
My heart plummets. He’s going to be so mad. Raven doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
Shaking my head, I stir from the doorway, my body moving on a hope I no longer feel. “Can I come in?”
He grants me a grunt, a sound that is neither permission nor denial, but a dismissal of the question itself. It’s a risk, but I take it. I step inside and shut the door with painstaking care, terrified the softest click might be the spark that finally ignites him.
With Judge, he is always calculating, always deciding fates. What will mine be?
Each step toward him is a conscious effort. My fingers grow clammy, and my heart begins a frantic, traitorous rhythm against my ribs. This reaction—it’s the pulse of pure dread. But the only thing I’m truly afraid of is seeing that final flicker of belief he has in me extinguish forever.
Before Eliza Parsons got pulled into our club, this man was mine.
Not in the way the world thinks, but in the secret, quiet ways that matter.
He’d slip me a smile meant for my eyes only, a private crack in his formidable armor.
He’d speak to me in a voice reserved for sacred spaces, a soft murmur against the barked orders he gave everyone else.
Without ever meaning to, Judge made me feel special.
The man in that chair now isn’t the one who shared secret smiles. He’s the one who discovered me on the streets—guarded, smart, and cautious. And I am about to hand him a reason to see me as part of the problem he needs to solve.
Swallowing thickly, I step to him and reach into my pocket.
“Someone came into the club last night. I… I don’t remember what they looked like.” Fingers trembling, I pass him the paper. “I must’ve thought they were a prospect or something. I don’t know.”
He stares at the folds, his frown evening out into a flat line. “Last night?”
“Everyone was having fun, I didn’t think anything of it.” My breathing grows shaky. “I should’ve realized it was weird.”
Then, he unfolds the page.
He looks at the list, his face a perfect, unreadable blank. I search for the anger I expected, the sharp betrayal, but there’s nothing. Just a chilling stillness. The silence in the room becomes a physical pressure, squeezing the air from my lungs.
“I should have said something,” I whisper, the confession leaving behind a sour aftertaste. “I’m sorry.”
My apology doesn’t just fall on deaf ears; it disintegrates in the space between us, meaningless.
Then, he lifts his gaze from the paper.
The green eyes I’ve gotten lost in so many times—that have crinkled with rare, private amusement, that have watched me with a warmth that felt like shelter—are gone. In their place is a void. A glacial, calculating stillness that has nothing to do with the man I know.
A splinter of pure ice lodges itself in my heart, stilling the beat mid-thump. My breath hitches, trapped.
A bloodlust fills his gaze, not for me, but for someone who has threatened me. It feels familiar, like something I’d experienced in my past. It is something. The memory always makes my skin prickle, but this is different. It’s like I’m experiencing it again in person.
He’d warned me, too. But I didn’t listen. Made my way in here despite his words. I should’ve listened. Why don’t I listen?
Every instinct in my body tells me to run and hide. My feet won’t budge. There’s a pain that swells in my chest as my heart forces itself to beat with survival in mind.
I’m scared. So scared.
I need Raven. She’s the one who knows how to deal with this feeling of dread. She’s my grip. I can’t… I can’t do this again.
“Raven.” Croaking her name, I don’t hear the creak of his chair or the thud of his boots.
His hands are warm against my cheeks, and the shock of his touch helps yank me back to reality. Such calloused hands shouldn’t be soft. The warmth is back in his gaze, and it’s like my eyes were playing tricks on me.
Air fills my lungs so quickly, I’m dizzy. When did I stop breathing?
“Sorry.” The word leaves my lips. I repeat it, I think.
“You’re okay, Pen.” He makes me look at him, and I see the exhaustion is gone. He’s alert. “You know you’re safe.”
He reminds me where I’m at. I’m here with him. The man who promised to keep me safe the first time he cradled my face like this. To promise no one would ever hurt me.
My skin warms as my heart settles. Blinking my eyes, humiliation seeps into my veins.
“I don’t…” Shaking my head, I feel him swipe at the corners of my eyes. Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod my head. I’m safe.
He relaxes his shoulders, sighing once he realizes I’m okay.
“I appreciate you showing me this.” His voice is soft, yet thick as he clutches to the note. He’s trying to contain his rage for me. “I’m going to hold onto this for a minute, alright?”
Nodding, my lips pinch together. I want to apologize again, but it’s hard to concentrate with his touch on my face. Is he still worried about me?
“I’m going to need you to stay at the clubhouse for the next few days.” He tilts my head so I meet his eyes. “Can you do that for me?”
“But—”
His thumb grazes the corner of my mouth. His scowl is back. “If you need something, ask one of the prospects. They’ll fetch it for you. If you need fresh air, find me, and we’ll go for a ride.”
A ride…with him? Talk about a fantasy.
I nod slowly, and he gives me the smallest hint of a smile. So small, I can’t help but want to cling to it and never let go.
“I need a minute.” He softens his voice. “Go back to what you were doing. Ghost should be returning sometime. That’s exciting, isn’t it?”
Nodding my head, I force my lips to curve into a smile. I’ve mastered this smile by now, so well that Judge can’t even tell it’s not real.
“Go let the others know so we can welcome him back. He’s going to have a lot of work to put in.”
He gives me his orders, and I know I should listen. At the same time, I don’t want to leave him alone.
“The list—”
“It’s nothing,” he promises as he forces himself back. “They wanted you to give it to me, that’s all. Now it’s out of your hands, so don’t worry about it anymore.”
I’m going to keep worrying, because that’s what I do.
Nodding my head, I turn toward the door. Moving without much thought, I pause when he calls my name.
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” His brows pinch together. “It won’t happen again.”
My smile becomes hesitant. “We all get scary sometimes. You’re human.” Opening the door, I swallow hard. “Don’t stay cooped up here all day. Eat some lunch, will you? I’ll throw something together.”
Hoping to leave him feeling a little better, it’s the soft sound of a curse leaving his lips that gets closed behind the door as I force my usual smile back onto my face.
Everything is going to be okay. It has to be.