Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Monk
Kansas put two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the noise of the barbeque like a blade.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Laughter died. Heads turned.
I caught Shadow’s eye across the yard and gave him a subtle nod.
He smirked, that knowing, dangerous smirk that said he knew exactly what was about to happen.
Then he ducked into the clubhouse without a word as Kansas stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention.
“Alright, you fuckers,” I shouted, my voice carrying across the compound. “Shut the fuck up!”
The music cut off abruptly. Silence fell over the yard like a blanket. Every eye turned toward us. Brothers, ol’ ladies, prospects, even the kids who’d been running around moments before.
Kansas stood beside me, his expression serious now, his hands resting on his hips.
“Brothers,” he began, his voice steady and strong.
“Sisters. Family.” He paused, letting the weight of that word settle.
“Seven years ago, this club was destroyed,” Kansas said, his voice roughening.
“When one of our own destroyed our home and slaughtered our brothers. He tried to erase us from existence.”
I felt my jaw tighten at the memories clawing their way to the surface. The bodies. The blood. The screams.
“But we survived,” Kansas continued. “Only, we weren’t living. We were ghosts. Walking through the motions. Barely holding on.” He looked at Kali, standing near the fire pit with Vivi and Abigail. His expression softened. “And then Kali showed up,” he said quietly. “And everything changed.”
Kali’s eyes filled with tears, and her hand pressed to her chest.
“The love of a real woman,” Kansas said, his voice growing stronger, “can change even the blackest of hearts. It can pull you out of the darkness. It can make you believe in something again.”
He turned to me, his hand landing heavy on my shoulder. “Being an ol’ lady to a Diamondback ain’t easy,” Kansas said, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. “It means standing beside a man who lives outside the law. It means loving a man who’s got blood on his hands and demons in his head.”
The brothers started shouting in agreement, their voices rising in a chorus of “Hell yeah!” and “Damn right!”
Kansas grinned.
“It means being strong enough to handle the chaos,” he continued. “Being fierce enough to stand your ground. Being loyal enough to never walk away, no matter how hard it gets.”
He looked at me, his expression serious.
“Only the strongest women can love a Diamondback,” Kansas said. “And tonight, we’re claiming one of those women.”
The brothers erupted—shouting, whistling, clapping.
My heart slammed once, hard. Shadow appeared at my side, materializing out of the clubhouse like a ghost. In his hands was a leather cut.
Black leather. Soft and supple. And on the back, stitched in bold white letters, was a single patch: PROPERTY OF MONK.
I took it from him, my hands trembling slightly as I held it.
From across the yard, Kali and Vivi moved toward Lina.
She looked confused, her eyes wide, her hands clasped in front of her.
Kali took one arm. Vivi took the other. And together, they walked her toward me.
Lina’s gaze locked on mine, her expression a mixture of confusion, hope, and fear.
When she stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell her perfume, I couldn’t breathe.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
I looked down at the cut in my hands, then back up at her. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” I said, my voice rough and unsteady.
The crowd went silent. Every eye was on us.
“I’ve hurt people,” I continued. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve been a coward when I should have been brave.”
Lina’s eyes filled with tears.
“I should have done this seven years ago,” I said, my throat tightening. “I should have put this cut on your back the moment I knew I loved you. I should have claimed you in front of everyone and told the whole fucking world you were mine.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“But I didn’t,” I said. “And I can’t change that. I can’t go back and fix the past.”
I stepped closer, holding the cut out between us.
“But I can do it now,” I said. “I can stand here in front of my brothers, my family, and tell you that you are mine. That you’ve always been mine. That I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in this world.”
Lina’s breath hitched, her hand covering her mouth.
“Carolina Wilcox,” I said, my voice steady now. “You ready to be my ol’ lady?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face now. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
I stepped behind her, my hands shaking as I held the cut open. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, and I pulled it up over her shoulders, settling it into place. The leather fit her perfectly. Like it had been made for her. Like she had always been meant to wear it.
I turned her around to face me, my hands cupping her face. “You’re mine now,” I said, my voice low and fierce. “In front of everyone. No more hiding. No more running. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and nothing is ever going to change that.”
She smiled through her tears. “I’ve always been yours,” she whispered.
I kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Claiming her in front of the entire club.
The brothers erupted—shouting, clapping, whistling, stomping their feet as I picked her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, and kissed her deeper. She kissed me back just as fiercely, her hands in my hair, her body pressed against mine.
Sirens. The sound pierced the air—sharp, jarring, and merciless—cutting through the celebration like a blade.
I jerked back from Lina, my heart slamming against my ribs as my head snapped toward the entrance.
Red and blue lights flashed through the trees, painting the compound in frantic, unnatural color.
Instantly, the brothers went silent. Kansas stepped forward, his face darkening, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jump.
“What the fuck!” he barked, but his voice was nearly swallowed by the crunch of tires on gravel as three police cars rolled into the compound, their presence heavy and suffocating.
Doors flew open. Officers spilled out, hands hovering near their belts, eyes scanning the crowd. At the front, walking with a calm, deliberate menace, was Chief Sean Curran O’Rourke. He looked like a man who’d been waiting for this moment, his gaze cold and unblinking.
My stomach dropped, a sick, icy weight settling inside me.
No. Not now. Not fucking now.
O’Rourke’s gaze swept the crowd, lingering on every face before landing on Kansas.
“Sorry about this, Kansas,” he said, almost apologetic, but there was no real regret in his eyes.
Then he turned to me, his expression hardening, all business.
“John Smith,” he called, his voice echoing across the silent yard, “you are under arrest for the assault and rape of Ruby Cooper.”
The words hit me like a freight train—violent, shattering, impossible to process. What? Assault? Rape? My mind reeled.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice rising, raw with disbelief and fury.
O’Rourke nodded to the officers flanking him. They moved in, hands on their belts, eyes locked on me. “You have the right to remain silent,” O’Rourke began, his tone flat and rehearsed.
“This is bullshit!” I roared, my hands balling into fists, rage and panic warring inside me.
Lina grabbed my arm, her eyes wide, wild with panic. “John.”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“I didn’t fucking touch her!” I shouted, but the officers were already on me, grabbing my arms, yanking them behind my back. The cold bite of handcuffs snapped around my wrists, metal digging into my skin.
“John!” Lina screamed, her voice breaking, raw with terror.
Kansas surged forward, his face murderous. “O’Rourke, you son of a bitch!”
“Stay back, Kansas,” O’Rourke said, his voice calm, almost bored. “This is official police business.”
“This is a setup!” Kansas roared, his voice echoing off the clubhouse walls.
The officers dragged me toward the police cars.
I twisted, desperate to see Lina. She stood frozen, hands pressed to her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
The cut I had just put on her back—the cut that said she was mine—still fresh, still new, and now I was being ripped away from her before it had even settled on her shoulders.
“Lina!” I shouted, my voice hoarse with desperation.
She broke free, running toward me, but Kali caught her, holding her back. “Don’t say anything!” Lina screamed, her voice ragged and fierce. “Don’t say a word without me! Do you hear me, John? Not a fucking word!”
I nodded, chest tight, throat burning, as the officers shoved me into the back of the police car and slammed the door. Through the glass, I saw the entire club—brothers, ol’ ladies, family—frozen in shock, their faces pale and stunned.
Kansas was shouting at O’Rourke, fury etched in every line of his body.
Lina was sobbing in Kali’s arms, her whole body shaking.
Abigail stood near the fire pit, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror.
And Shadow—he was staring at me through the window, his expression dark, dangerous, promising retribution.
The engine started. The car lurched forward, pulling me away from the compound, away from my family, away from the woman I had just claimed. I leaned my head back against the seat, closed my eyes, and let the weight of it all crush me.
Fuck.