Chapter 21
LEGION
Ileaned against the far wall, my arms crossed over my chest, feeling the weight of the silence in the room.
I was called to ne of the Harlots Church meetings, I believe it was to keep the peace between the chapters.
But unfortunately, my peace never lasted very long as across from me, I could feel the cold shoulder from the one person I wanted the most.
Lantana didn't look at me. She sat perched on the edge of a leather chair, her spine a rigid line of defiance. Her jaw remained locked, and her gaze fixed on the speakerphone in the center of the desk.
A week.
I had vanished for a week without a single word, leaving her in the heat of the morning after.
I had felt things I didn't have names for and a pull in my gut threatened to destroy the disciplined shell I had spent years building.
She had breached a wall I didn't know existed, and the only way to keep my head straight was to put distance between us. Now, that distance felt like a canyon.
We were meeting in Velvet Desires’ strip-club.
It was different from any other strip club I’d ever been in.
Looked more like a private gentleman’s club.
Duchess stood at the head of the table, and beside her, Roulette leaned back, her Polynesian features sharp and regal, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
Paramore, the Sergeant at Arms, stood with her boots planted wide, her hands resting on her hips, looking like she wanted to punch a hole through the wall.
Gypsy and Demise flanked the door, their expressions vacant and lethal, the kind of women who didn't need to speak to tell you that you were already dead.
Duchess tapped the speakerphone. "We're all here, Jameson. As requested."
Jameson’s voice crackled through the line, cold and devoid of warmth.
"Obsidian and Hoax have finished the deep dive.
The Bloody Scorpions are getting ambitious.
They aren't content with just controlling the territory, they want to diversify.
They're attempting to seed a female chapter.
They're calling them the Bloody Femmes."
Paramore let out a sharp, guttural laugh. "The fuck they are. Since when do the Scorpions play house with girls?"
"Since they realized they can't break the Harlots with brute force," Jameson replied. "They're trying to build a mirror image to undermine Duchess's influence. To ensure the foundation of the Femmes is soaked in blood, they've brought in a professional. A contract killer. Her name is Vespera."
Duchess narrowed her eyes, her voice dropping an octave. "Vespera. I've heard that name before”
“She’s one of our girls,” Obsidian added. “We fired her a few months ago because she was rude to one of our clients.”
“Was there a reason for it?” Duchess asked.
“At the time…I don’t think so but that same client was kicked out months later for being abusive to one of the girls.”
“Did he hurt her?” Roulette asked.
“If we did, she never said.”
“So she has an MO,” I interjected. Possibly wanting to get back at you, Duchess, for firing her.
"Exactly," Jameson added. "Either was she’s using what you’ve taught her against you. She’s been contracted to create havoc for you, Duchess.
Sabotage, hits on your lieutenants, psychological warfare.
The Scorpions want the Harlots dismantled from the inside out before the Femmes officially launch. "
Roulette shifted, her voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. "A mercenary. How quaint. They think they can buy the downfall of this club."
"They're betting on it," Jameson said. "Legion, you're on the call. You hear me?"
I straightened up, my voice rasping.
"I hear you."
"You're the hammer in this equation. You back the Harlots up on every move.
You provide the muscle and the tactical oversight.
I want Vespera brought in alive. I want her broken and interrogated so we can find every single leak in the Scorpions' network.
As for the Scorpions themselves? Burn them.
I want their warehouses, their bikes, and their egos reduced to ash.
Leave nothing but the smell of gasoline and regret. "
Duchess looked around the room, her eyes landing on each woman. "You heard the man. We don't play defense. We take the fight to their front door."
Paramore stepped forward, her voice booming. "I'll handle the perimeter. If any of these 'Femmes' try to slide into our territory, I'll rip their patches off with my teeth."
"Steady, Paramore," Roulette countered, her tone mocking. "We need a scalp, not a massacre. If we kill Vespera in the first skirmish, we lose the map to the Scorpions' plans.”
"I don't care about the map," Paramore snapped. "I care about the insult. A contract killer in our backyard?"
"The insult is the fuel, the strategy is the engine," Duchess interrupted, her voice cutting through the tension.
"Gypsy, Demise, you're on reconnaissance.
I want every safehouse the Scorpions use identified by tomorrow.
Roulette, you coordinate the logistics. We hit them in waves.
We isolate Vespera, trap her, and bring her to the cellar. "
"And the Femmes?" Gypsy asked, her voice low and monotone.
"Treat them as combatants," Duchess said. "No mercy for those who wear the Scorpion's colors, regardless of gender."
"What about the backup?" Paramore asked, glancing toward me with a look of pure disdain. "We really need the ghost hanging around?"
"Legion stays," Duchess commanded. "Jameson's orders. He's the insurance policy."
"I can handle myself," I muttered.
"You'll handle yourself by doing exactly what you're told," Duchess replied. "Hoax will be embedded with the team. He'll provide the tech support and the real-time Intel. He's already in the loop."
"This is going to be a bloodbath," Demise whispered, a ghost of a smile on her lips.
"Good," Duchess said. "I've been craving a change of scenery."
The call ended with a sharp click. The women began to dispersed. Paramore and Roulette were already arguing about the best tactic to the Scorpions' primary hub, their voices fading as they stepped out.
I stayed put, my eyes locked on Lantana. She finally looked at me, anger and hurt in her eyes.
Fuck.
She stood up, but didn't say a word as she walked past me, the scent of strawberries making my body react.
I turned and followed her into the hallway. The corridor was narrow, lit by dim amber lights that flickered periodically. I caught up to her near the exit, my hand reaching out to grab her shoulder.
"Lantana, stop."
She spun around, her movement a blur of aggression. She ripped my hand away, her eyes flashing. "Don't… touch me."
"I had to leave," I said, the words feeling clumsy and inadequate.
"You had to leave?" she echoed, her voice trembling with a suppressed rage. "You didn't leave a note. You didn't send a text. You just evaporated. I woke up in an empty bed, and for a week, I wondered if you were dead in a ditch or if you just decided I wasn't worth the effort of a goodbye."
"It wasn't about you not being worth it," I replied, stepping closer, trying to bridge the gap. "It was the opposite. You... you got under my skin. I don't do this. I don't let people in. I needed to clear my head before I lost my grip on everything."
Lantana let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Oh, poor baby. You felt too many feelings? You had to go on a little retreat to find your masculine center again?"
"You know it's not that simple."
"It is that simple, Legion. You're a coward. You're terrified of something you can't control with a gun or a fist. You think staying away makes you strong? It makes you a ghost. And I'm done chasing ghosts."
"I'm here now," I said.
"You're here because Jameson told you to be here. You're here as an insurance policy."
She stepped into my space, her chest nearly brushing mine. I could see the pulse jumping in her neck, the raw heat radiating off her skin. For a second, I thought she might hit me, or kiss me, or scream.
"Listen to me very carefully," she whispered, her voice a lethal blade.
"We are going to work together. We are going to hunt these bitches.
But the moment this is over, you are nothing to me.
And if you ever vanish on me again, I will find you.
And next time, I'll make sure to give you something that makes your dick shrivel up and fall off. "
She didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heel and stormed out the double doors, the heavy wood slamming shut behind her.
I stood in the silence, the echo of her threat ringing in my ears.
A sharp, digital chirp sounded in my ear. Hoax's voice slid through the earpiece, dripping with amusement.
"Damn. She's a feisty one. I think she actually likes you, in a 'I want to castrate you' kind of way."
I closed my eyes, rubbing my temple.
"Shut up, Hoax."
"I'm just saying, the tension in that hallway was so thick I could practically feel it through the audio feed. Do you need a tutorial on how to apologize to a woman, or maybe some tips on how to maintain an erection under threat of chemical warfare?"
"Why the fuck are you listening in?" I growled.
"Because it's fun," Hoax replied airily. "And because Jameson told me to be on you. He wants to make sure your 'emotional instability' doesn't compromise the job. He basically hired me as your babysitter with a headset."
"Well, fuck off."
"Can't do that. I'm literally inside your head right now. By the way, the Harlots are prepping the bikes. You might want to move your ass before Paramore decides to use your head as a kickstand."
I pushed off the wall, my jaw tight. I could still smell strawberries in the air, a haunting reminder of what I had tried to run away from.
I had spent a week trying to forget the way she felt beneath me, the way her breath hitched when I whispered in her ear, the way she looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I hadn't cleared my head. I had just spent seven days starving.
As I walked toward the garage, the weight of the coming fight felt light compared to the war Lantana was waging against me.
The Bloody Scorpions wanted a fight, and Vespera wanted a payday.
They had no idea what was coming for them because a man with nothing to lose is dangerous, but a man trying to earn his way back into the bed of a woman who hates him is a goddamn nightmare.
The Harlots were mounted on their their bikes, the array of colors gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Lantana was already on her Harley, her helmet on, her visor down. She didn't look at me as I approached my own ride.
“Hoax was saying something about clearing the roads, and looking at traffic cams.”
"Hoax," I muttered into the mic.
"Yeah?"
"Stop fucking talking. Just give me the coordinates."
"Touchy, touchy. Sending them now. Try not to get castrated before we reach the target. It would really mess up the goal here."
I kicked my bike into gear, the engine screaming in response. I rolled out behind Lantana, watching the sway of her hips and the strength in her shoulders. The hunt was on, and the blood was already calling.