Chapter 19 #2
“That cartel,” Pops starts, voice low. It grabs my full attention.
“I wish to hell we’d had the power to take them down back then.
Bury every last one of them. But the club wasn’t strong enough.
We didn’t have a single alliance when they tore your life apart.
Forty of us, maybe. Them? Two hundred, easy. Probably more.”
He pauses, like he’s searching through the memories. “The only move I had was reaching out to Massimo Romano. I knew if the Romanos stood behind us, the cartel would back off. They wouldn’t want a war with the Italians.”
I nod once. I know this story. The part he doesn’t say is that Massimo was a bastard.
Luca and Arcangelo’s old man. Mean as sin, power-hungry, violent.
Bones and I helped his sons put him in the dirt and clear out the loyalists.
That was the turning point. The moment a desperate business deal turned into a blood-forged alliance.
We’re solid with the Famiglia now, but back then, Pops had to swallow a lot of shit to keep the club alive.
He sighs, and bows his head like the weight of it all is still sitting on his shoulders. “I tried to protect everyone. Did what I could to shield the club. But I didn’t protect you. Not when it mattered most. It was too late by the time I made any moves.”
His eyes find mine. They’re soaked in guilt.
“I’m sorry, Dominic. If I’d been smarter, stronger…
maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe I could’ve stopped what happened to you.
” He swallows hard. “Bones is better than I ever was. That’s why I trained him like I did.
Why I handed him the club so early. He built this club into something powerful. Feared. Respected.”
His stare hardens. “And you… you’re better than me, too. I see it in you. You’ll go after them, won’t you? You’ll hunt them down.”
I don’t respond. I don’t need to. He already knows the answer.
“And you’ll succeed where I failed,” he says quietly.
There’s a pause. The kind that hums with unsaid warnings.
“But you need to be fucking smart,” he adds, voice dropping.
“Verdugos work with other cartels. They’ve got deep pockets, bigger reach than before.
They could’ve wiped us out back in the day.
They just didn’t care enough. I still don’t know why they went through all the trouble with you. Why the setup. Why the theatrics.”
He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, firm and fatherly.
“Be careful. Please.”
I nod once. “Yeah. I will be.”
Then I crush the empty plastic bottle in my hand, knuckles white.
“You didn’t fuck up, Pops,” I say. “You got dealt a rigged deck, and you still played the hell out of it.”
When I walk into Bones’ office without knocking, he doesn’t even lift his head. There are no muttered curses or annoyed glances this time. He just sits slumped in his chair, fingers wrapped around a glass of whiskey. That’s how I know things with Temperance are worse than I thought.
I drop into the seat across from him with a sigh so heavy that feels like it’s coming straight from the bottom of my soul.
“Just come right in, take a fucking seat,” he mutters, deadpan, before taking a slow sip. Ah, there’s still a spark.
“I’m going nomad,” I say it straight. I thought about this, and it wasn’t an easy decision. But what I’m about to do will take a lot of time away from the club. I won’t be able to deal with the day to day shit.
His head jerks up. His glass slams onto the desk, whiskey sloshing up the sides, droplets spilling on the wood.
“No.”
“I’m serious.” My tone doesn’t waver. “Domino can take over VP duties. You can put Mindfuck up for Sergeant. Call for a vote. You know the drill.”
He leans back in his chair, and stares at me like I just pissed on the club patch. “Well, fuck me. You already drew up the plans. How considerate.”
He leans forward again, voice as piercing and rough as barbed wire. “Still not happening.”
“I looked into it and I’ll need to be gone for long stretches of time, Bones. Longer than we initially thought. I’m leaving whether you sign off or not,” I tell him. Calm. Final.
He breathes deep and pinches the bridge of his nose like I’m some disobedient kid testing his last nerve.
“Ghost, go hunt. Go kill. Go scream at the fucking moon for all I care. But you’re not going nomad. You got shit to settle? Fine. Settle it. Go kill a fucker and then get your ass back here. And then go again.” His tone drops, serious now. “And when you need backup, you just ask. We’ll handle it.”
My eyes drift to the wall behind him. There’s a black and white photo of a custom Harley hung on it. It was his favorite bike — until Temperance destroyed it.
“Fine,” I grit out after a few seconds, admitting defeat. I don’t have it in me to go all out against his stubbornness right now.
I press two fingers to my forehead. The pressure’s building inside my skull. Sleep’s been nothing but a wish lately.
“I’m leaving in a few days,” I say. “Gotta line some things up first.”
I glance at him. There’s something heavy and hollow behind his eyes.
“How’ve you been holding up?” I ask, even though I already know.
He shrugs like it means nothing. “Fucking fantastic.”
I narrow my eyes. He folds.
“Not even close,” he mutters, then he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. “But what the fuck can I do about it?”
“Let’s get drunk tonight,” I say on an impulse.
That gets a reaction. His eyebrows lift like I just gave him the first good idea he’s heard all week.
“I’ll call the other fuckers.”
The next morning hits like a freight train. My body’s a patchwork of bruises, courtesy of Pops and his fists. Even breathing feels like a goddamn battle. And my head’s pounding like a bitch. Fucking hangover. Good thing I rarely drink the real stuff anymore, but fuck if I didn’t need it this time.
I stare down at the phone in my hand, grip tightening. I hate this. Hate handing off what should be my responsibility. I should be the one keeping her safe. Watching her back. But I’ll be off the grid soon. Days, maybe weeks. And I can’t risk leaving Adora unguarded.
Not when there’s a fucking snake cult looking for Ria.
They seem like amateurs so far — but amateurs still get people killed.
I could’ve asked Bones to assign one of the brothers, but Adora doesn’t need more Vultures breathing down her neck.
The ones around Ria are already too many.
She needs quiet protection, and she needs someone to watch out for her, specifically.
And this guy? She won’t even know he’s there. He’s better than anyone I know at this. And he’ll keep her safe. That’s all I care about.
I tap the screen. He answers after the first ring. A grunt, low and clipped.
“Myth,” I say, voice steady. “I’ve got a job for you.”
“Listening,” he replies.
I watch her from the shadows, far enough that she can’t see me. But close enough that I can’t look away.
She’s walking back to Ria’s. There’s a book in her hand — something she picked up from that half-dead shop that sells everything and nothing. She looks peaceful. And the thought that slams into me is that it’s because she thinks I’m gone. Because she can finally breathe without me near her.
I tried. I swear I fucking tried to stay away.
I filled my days with planning, picked fights with my own mind just to distract myself.
But it doesn’t matter what I do, I always end up here.
In the dark, watching her from a distance like some cursed soul chained to the one thing he can never touch again.
I won’t let her see me. Not again. But I need this. Just a glimpse. Just a second. To make sure she’s okay, to see if she’ll smile. She doesn’t, and the pain inside me keeps growing.
There’s a special kind of agony in being erased by the only person who ever made the world feel like it was worth surviving.
Every time she walks past, oblivious to the fact that I’m here, it cuts another wound.
Breath by breath, piece by fucking piece.
And even if she did know, it wouldn’t matter.
She’d still give me that brutal, unrelenting silence.
I’d take a slap. A scream. A broken bottle to the face. Anything over this void.
But she’ll never give me anything, ever again.
It’s like dying in slow motion.
I sigh, drag in a breath that hurts on the way in, and squeeze the keyring in my hand until the sharp metal cuts into my palm. When she disappears into the building, I finally move. I pull out my phone and dial the number Bones gave me.
“Who’s this?” Ria answers, already suspicious.
“Ghost,” I say. “I need to give you something. I’m outside your place.”
“No, thank you, Spookleberry Finn. I don’t need anything from you,” she chirps.
I grit my teeth. “It’s the last time I’ll bother you. It’s for Adora.”
There’s a pause, followed by the most dramatic sigh I’ve ever heard. “Give me five.”
She hangs up.
It takes her fifteen.
I see her step outside, eyes scanning the street. I move out from where I’ve been watching. Hellbat gives me a lazy wave from across the way. I nod back, silent.
My hands still sting. But not nearly as much as the hole in my chest.
Ria’s already glaring when I approach, arms crossed like she has no time for my bullshit.
“Alright, Soul Sucker Supreme,” she snaps. “What fresh fuckery are you planning?”
I toss her the keys. She snatches them out of the air with a speed that almost makes me regret not aiming for her face.
“For Adora,” I say. “Cabin by the lake. It’s hers now.” I hand over the envelope next. “That’s the deed. Signed and done. She can do whatever she wants with it. I took my personal shit out.”
Her eyes go wide, but I’m already turning away. I don’t need a reaction. I just needed to do it.
I make it two steps before she blows out a frustrated breath behind me.
“Hey, Spook Dog!”