Chapter 6
SIX
NIGHTMARE
I’m already inside when she rings the bell. I let it go twice before opening the door, grounding myself. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, and this situation triples it.
Londyn steps in like she owns the place. Black, leather jacket zipped, eyes scanning the room like she’s still on duty. She hasn’t said a word, but I can feel the tension riding her shoulders… and see the moment they ease, just a little, as she walks past me into the kitchen. I follow.
“You still keep this place?”
“Yeah. I kept it after my parents died,” I say grabbing two shot glasses and one of the many bottles of bourbon I keep here.
She looks up, eyes softening. “Shit, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t have. It happened while they were on vacation. Right after I got out of the Army.”
Their deaths wrecked me. I was already in therapy after one of my missions. Then they died in a car crash not long after I came home.
When I sit down, she reaches for my hand… just for a second. Her fingers squeeze, then she snatches it back like touching me burned her.
Peeling off her jacket, she drapes it over the back of the chair. Underneath, she’s wearing a fitted black tee, sleeves rolled just enough to show the edge of a tattoo I don’t remember. Her body’s lean, strong, but soft in the places that grabs my attention. I can’t help but notice.
We sit across from each other, the air thick with old memories and new tension. Pouring the shots, she downs hers in one gulp, and holds the glass out for another. I knock mine back to catch up, then refill both. This time, I take it slow, letting the burn to settle in.
“What the hell, Malcolm?” she begins. “You’re in the Royal Bastards? Since when?”
“Since after the Army,” I say. “I came back, and there wasn’t much left. Mom and Dad were gone. The club gave me somewhere to land.”
“Somewhere to land’? They’re not a damn halfway house. They’re criminals.”
I laugh under my breath. “Yeah, well, so’s half this city. Depends which side of the badge you’re on.”
She shoots me a hard look. “You think this shit’s funny? Ty could’ve died tonight.”
That hits harder than I expect. Cuts through the bourbon and reminds me why I asked her here in the first place.
Time to switch this shit up, and get some answers.
“Speaking of your brother, why don’t you tell me what happened to him?”
”She sighs heavily, sinking back into her chair. “We already went through this in the car.”
“I need the truth, Lolo. Not the version you gave me in the car. The real one,” I say.
Her defiant eyes lock on mine. “You saw him, Malcolm. You know what he looks like.”
I let the words hang a second before answering.
“Yeah, I know. A junkie who used to be my best friend, and the dead look of a man who won’t make it through the month.
You’re his sister. How’d you let it get this bad?
How does your brother end up feeding the cops?
” I don’t raise my voice, but it’s sharp.
I’m not angry at her, but this whole thing is fucking with my head and I’m hanging on by a thread.
Her head snaps up. “Don’t you dare put this on me!”
“Someone’s got to,” I fire back. “You’re out there playing cop while your brother’s out there drowning in the same shit you’re fighting. That doesn’t make sense to me.”
She clenches her jaw, her shoulders squared. “And you’re out there dealing the same shit that’s killing him. So who exactly is the bad guy here, Malcom?”
That knocks the wind outta me. Because, fuck me, she’s right.
“You think I haven’t tried?” she continues, voice rising. “You think I don’t see what he’s become every time he shows up at my door shaking, begging for a fix? You think that doesn’t kill me?”
Her voice cracks. Just a hair. She catches it fast, pulling herself back together like it never happened.
I pour another round. Nothing I can really say to that. I can’t imagine what it’s like… watching your brother fall that far. But I didn’t come here to trade pain. I came to find a way not to put a bullet in Ty.
So, I get straight to the point.
“My Chapter President, Jameson, gave the order to put him down.”
She freezes. “What?”
“He wants Ty dead. That’s not a maybe. That’s a now.”
Her expression hardens. “Tell your president to back the fuck off!.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Lolo. I don’t have a choice.”
“Bullshit!”
“You think I get to vote on who lives and dies? All Jameson sees is a threat that needs to be dealt with, and I’m the one holding the trigger. So unless you give me something… something real, I’ve got nothing to stand on.”
We stare each other down, years of friendship, anger, and something else pulsing between us. She downs her second shot and takes a beat.
“After you left, Ty traveled the world like he always planned, Italy, Spain, Colombia. Said he wanted to live, experience things before settling down. He met a group of guys over there. They partied hard, got him into blow. He thought they were friends. They obviously weren’t.
By the time he realized what they were mixed up in, it was too late.
They were runners for a cartel out of South America. ”
“What the fuck,” I mouth in disbelief.
“Yeah. They used him. Made him go on a few cross-country runs. Said he was good at moving things. They pulled him in deep, and he was making more money than any job could ever pay him.”
“And somewhere in the middle of all this shit, you became a cop, and he became your snitch.” It’s a low blow, but I’m not here to play nice.
“Yeah, well, you joined a biker gang. Guess we both fucked up, huh,”
That earns her a small smirk. “Fair.”
“Anyway, he came back a different person,” she continues. “Paranoid. Strung out. I tried my best to help get him get clean, but he always found his way back to it. I finally caught him with product one night and busted him. My Captain made a deal… he stays out of jail if he works as an informant.”
I shake my head. “That was a death sentence.”
“Yeah. I know. And everything was running smoothly until you guys showed up tonight.”
I look at her. Really look. The way her collarbone catches the light. The way her lips press together when she’s holding back emotion. Londyn’s beautiful, but not in the polished way most people chase. She’s raw. Real. But, I need to focus, so I push all that shit down.
“Jameson won’t care about any of that,” I say. “He just sees a rat.”
“It’s not like he knew the Royal Bastards were involved. He’s just trying to survive,” she explains.
“Doesn’t matter. The second Mav saw that wire, Ty was a dead man walking. And if I don’t do it, someone else will. Someone who won’t hesitate.”
She leans in. “Then give me time. Let me get him out.”
“You’ve got days. Not weeks. Days.”
“You talk like it’s that easy.”
“It’s not,” I say quietly. “But if Jameson sends someone else, I can’t stop it.”
That makes her freeze. “Can’t or won’t?”
I meet her eyes. “Both.”
After a long moment, she speaks again. “You were his best friend and always looked out for him.”
“I’m still looking out for him.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re protecting the people who want to kill him.”
I push to my feet, pacing the floor. “Don’t twist this, Lolo. I didn’t put him in this mess. When I got back to the clubhouse and told Maverick that Ty wasn’t dead, he immediately put in the call and received a direct order to end him.”
She doesn’t back down, just stares at me, eyes hard but glassy around the edges. “You better find a way to stop it then or I swear I’ll burn your clubhouse to the ground with every one of you inside!”
“You still don’t get it,” I grit out, anger rising in my chest. “If I don’t handle this, I’m dead too. Jameson’s not the forgiving type. He doesn’t give a shit that Ty was my best friend. I failed, and now it’s on me to fix it.”
“Then where does that leave us, Malcolm? “ she snaps. “If you can’t stop this, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Look, we’ll figure it out. For now, get him out of town. That’ll buy us some time.”
“I’m already working on a list of rehab facilities outside of Atlanta. Will that work for now?”
“Yeah, that’s actually a solid move. Gives me time to dig into the cartel he’s tangled up with.”
She goes quiet. Her beautiful brown eyes shine, but she doesn’t let the tears fall.
“I joined the Atlanta PD because I wanted to make a difference,” she says softly.
I nod. “So you ended up on a drug task force.”
“Yeah. I trained my ass off to prove I belonged. Every time I saw someone nodding off in an alley, I saw Ty. I couldn’t just walk a beat and pass off intel. It was too personal. It became my mission.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Lolo.”
“No, it’s not. But after what went down tonight… part of me wishes the drugs had killed him.”
She abruptly stands, putting herself in check. “I’ll get him into rehab. You keep your president off his back.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try harder,” she snaps, grabbing her jacket. “Because if Jameson gets to him first, I’ll make sure every patch wearing that crown and skull burns… including you.”
She’s gone before I can say anything else.
The door slams. No warmth left in the room. Just the echo of old laughter and something colder.
I look around, staring at the same walls that held our innocence. The same ghosts that promised a bright future.
Ty was supposed to make it out. Londyn was supposed to save people. I was supposed to have a career in the military.
Instead, we’re all back here. Stuck.
And I can’t shake the feeling that the next time we cross paths, it won’t be as friends.
Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, I drop back into the chair. No glass this time. Just take the burn straight from the neck. Lolo’s threat hangs in the air, and I’m struggling to process.
My gun digs into my back, Jameson’s order echoing in my head like a war drum.
Ty.
My best friend from high school. We cut class, chased girls, fought side by side. Then I left, and joined the Army, then the Royal Bastards. Life happened… ten years gone just like that.
Now I’m supposed to put a bullet in him.
The gun digs deeper as if reminding me of my duty. Placing it on the table, I picture Ty at the end of the barrel, and bile rises in my throat.
This is fucking insane.
I take another pull. My stomach churns, but I don’t stop.
Londyn laid it out. Ty didn’t just fall… he got dragged. Cartel runners. Pills. Coke. Used and tossed. Now he’s clawing his way out, feeding her intel, hoping it buys him a second chance.
Jameson doesn’t care. He hears “snitch,” and that’s all it takes. Fucking with his business is game over.
But I care. I loved Ty like a brother. Still do, even if he’s half a ghost now.
I stare at the gun. At the bottle. At the walls that watched us grow up.
There’s gotta be a way out. A way to keep my patch and keep Ty breathing.
But I know how this ends if I don’t move fast.
And if I wait too long, someone else will pull the trigger… on both of us.