Chapter 13
BEX - ACT LIKE IT
The question feels like a stone dropped into still water. “Where is Mara?”
Everything goes from quiet, to the ripples coming off of the question, the taunt of an accusation moving over everyone in the room.
For a second, I can hear the refrigerator behind the bar humming. The soft clink of someone setting a glass down somewhere behind me.
Razor hasn’t taken his eyes off me; neither has Angel. I feel the weight of Clutch’s stare just to Angel’s left, close enough that in a few steps I could be in his arms. But I have never felt further away.
He still hasn’t said a word.
My mouth is dry, but my voice comes out steady.
“I don’t know.”
The silence stretches as Angel studies my face carefully. He’s not angry… not yet. It’s like he’s judging the weight of my words, the truth in them.
He nods saying, “See I want to believe you and I don’t think you are lying… But I have it on good authority that you were seen treating Mara, at the hospital.”
Razor shifts, it’s subtle. Just a single step closer. But I see it.
And still, Clutch doesn’t move.
“If Mara was at the hospital,” I say carefully, “and someone treated her off record… I would assume there was a reason for that.”
Angel’s jaw tightens.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The tension in the room climbs another notch.
Angel drags a hand down his face and exhales sharply.
“I need to know if she’s okay, Bex.”
The frustration in his voice is real now. Raw.
“She’s my sister.” His eyes soften with his voice. “She’s all I have left.”
The words hang in the air and for a second something inside me almost softens.
Almost. But then…
“You can trust me with her,” Angel adds.
And I see her… I see Mara bruised and broken asking me not to tell anyone, not even Angel and my head moves before I can stop it. Just a small shake.
No.
The sound that ripples through the room is sharp. Someone sucks in a breath and murmurs start immediately.
“What the fuck…”
“She just…”
“What does that mean..”
“Can we trust…”
You can feel the room shift in real time, lines moving, sides adjusting. Angel notices it too and his eyes narrow slightly.
Then finally… Clutch speaks. “Bex.”
My chest tightens. For one stupid second hope surges through me. Maybe he’s about to shut this down. Maybe he’s about to tell Angel this has gone far enough. Maybe…
“Bex,” he says again, his voice rough. “I need you to answer Angel.”
The words hurt like a physical blow.
“We need to know who you’re loyal to.”
He gestures toward me.
“Baby… you’re wearing my cut.”
His eyes meet mine.
“Act like it.”
I suck in a ragged breath as something inside me cracks, a quiet splintering somewhere deep in my chest.
Time of death…
I close my eyes for a second. Just one. Trying to steady the storm of anger and hurt clawing up my throat. When I open them again my voice comes out tight. “Act like it?”
I laugh. The sound is small, but sharp. “Seriously?”
Now I’m looking straight at Clutch. Really looking at him. Letting him see every ounce of hurt, of pain, of the betrayal burning through me.
“Why don’t you act like you’re my husband?”
The room goes still again.
“You stand there preaching loyalty and unity and protection.”
My voice grows stronger with every word, even though it feels like I am losing everything at this moment. But it only fuels me. I have come back from worse than this.
“Protection for the people you love.”
I let out another cold laugh.
“This life… this club culture…”
I shake my head slowly, my eyes finding Angel’s.
“It’s toxic.”
A wave of outrage rolls through the room, but I keep going. “You all claim you love hard. You claim everyone under your protection is equal. But that’s bullshit!”
I take in a steadying breath knowing there is no coming back from this. But I don't want a way back, I want out.
“But you’re only loyal to the men in this room. The men you call brothers.”
My gaze slides back to Clutch.
“Even when you’ve made promises to your women.”
My eyes sweep the room.
“To your wives.”
Meeting the gaze of every man watching this unfold.
“To your girlfriends.”
Making them look away first.
“To your ol’ ladies.”
My voice hardens.
“But that loyalty? It’s a lie wrapped in the illusion of protection.”
A few of the women behind me murmur quietly. Some of the men look furious, others look uncomfortable.
“Because this life isn’t loyal to women,” I continue. “This culture lets you treat women like possessions. But you dress it up by calling us your queens.”
I shake my head feeling the weight and truth in my words.
“And them…”
I gesture toward Razor and the girls hovering behind him.
“You use them.”
A few of the club girls stiffen.
“You pass them around.”
I look directly at Razor.
“You cheat on your women with them.”
And then I lock eyes with Clutch.
“Or you weaponize their presence to keep your ol’ ladies in line.”
Razor’s smile widens as I look straight at him.
“And I don’t agree with their presence.”
I gesture again.
“Because I don’t think any of you should be lazy enough to need a fuck on demand.” My voice drops colder. “From someone who’s already been passed around three times before you even got to her.”
A few of the girls shout angrily, but I keep going. “You all say they choose to be here.”
My voice rises slightly. “But has anyone ever asked why? Why would someone choose to be degraded and used?”
I lock eyes with Angel again, I can’t read his expression. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he is listening.
“Why are they even here?”
The words hit me before I can stop them. “Why am I here?”
Silence crashes through the room.
“No.”
My voice is quieter now, but sharper.
“I don’t trust you to protect your sister.”
Gasps echo around the room.
“Someone muzzle that bitch.”
“And I don’t trust you to protect the women in this club.”
Then my eyes move to Clutch.
“And I don’t trust you anymore either.”
The words taste like ash and my hands move before I fully realize what I’m doing. I reach up, sip the cut off my shoulders. The leather slides down my arms slowly.
The room erupts immediately.
“What the hell…”
“Bex…”
“Don’t…”
But I barely hear any of it. The cut hangs in my hands. It’s heavier than it was when I put it on not that long ago. My fingers tighten around the worn leather, as my eyes drop to the back of it.
PROPERTY OF CLUTCH.
The stitching blurs slightly, as the tears gather in my eyes.
“Property,” I murmur.
A strange calm settles over me.
“That word always sat wrong with me.”
My thumb traces the letters once.
“But now I finally understand why.”
I look up again and my gaze sweeps across the room. Across the men watching, across Razor and Angel. I make sure I look at them all, except for him.
“Maybe,” I say quietly, “you should ask the last person who was with Mara why she would feel the need to disappear.”
I never see it coming.
Razor moves so fast the motion barely registers.
One second he’s standing beside Angel.
The next…
Crack.
The sound explodes through the room, as pain flashes white across my vision when his hand connects with my face.
Gasps erupt everywhere.
Women shout, as chairs scrape across the floor and hands grab Razor, yanking him backward.
“Back the hell up!”
“Razor!”
“He hit her!”
He fights against them. Eyes blazing.
“Stop stalling,” he snarls. “Tell us what the fuck you did with Mara.”
The room quiets again and slowly I lift my head. My lip is split, I know it without looking. Warm blood drips down my chin.
My eyes finally find Clutch. The activity around me blurs because one thing becomes crystal clear… He hasn’t moved.
Not one step.
Not toward me.
Not toward Razor.
His body looks tight, almost vibrating with energy. But he’s still standing exactly where he was.
And when I follow the direction of his gaze…
I see Angel, standing there, with one hand raised slightly. Palm out.
A silent command.
Stay. Don’t move.
Something inside me finally goes numb.
A laugh slips out of me, hollow and broken.
I lift the cut and wipe the blood from my lip with it. Then I look around the room. At the women and the men.
“This?” My voice is hoarse. “This is what your loyalty looks like.”
I shake my head slowly.
“I don’t want it.”
My eyes dropped to the cut one last time. Then I lift it and hold it out toward Clutch.
“I am property of no one.” My voice is steady now. “Take it.”
My eyes lock onto his.
“I am done.”
Clutch is looking at me now. His eyes are red rimmed, he looks like he is struggling, but that’s the thing… This shouldn’t be a struggle.
“I don’t want your brand of love or loyalty anymore.”
Then my gaze flicks briefly to Angel’s raised hand, and back to Clutch.
“You shouldn’t need permission to protect your wife.”
A woman is crying behind me.
“It should never even be a question.”
I glance at Razor.
“You asked who I’m loyal to, Razor.”
My eyes return to Clutch.
“And for one stupid moment… I believed that when I really needed it… You would be there for me.”
Razor lunges forward again, but Ledger and one of the prospects grab him before he can reach me.
“Sit the hell down!” Angel roars.
A chair is dragged over and Razor is forced to sit. No one else moves or speaks.
I look at Angel again, my voice more confident than I feel right now. “I’m loyal to the people who deserve it. Who earned it. To the people who need it.”
Then I hold the cut out farther, toward Clutch.
“Take it.”
He looks wrecked. Like something inside him is tearing in two. His mouth opens.“Bex…”
“Take it!” I scream interrupting him.
My voice cracks across the room, but he still doesn’t move.
I shake my head slowly, saying. “Fine.” My voice is steel now as I add. “I wouldn’t want you moving without permission.”
The room erupts again.
“What the hell is happening…”
And then I do it, I throw the cut and it lands at his feet. The leather slaps loudly against the wood floor. Clutch stares down at it, still frozen in place. Blood from my lip has smeared across the Dawnbreakers crest.
And then the room turns into chaos. Voices rising, men arguing and women shouting. Brother’s fighting over what is right.
Clutch still hasn’t moved.
Then Cypher suddenly shouts. “Angel!”
The word cuts through everything and Angel turns. Cypher is staring at the laptop screen, his face pale.
“It’s important,” he adds.
Angel hesitates, glancing back toward me, around the room.
But Cypher’s voice is sharper now. “It’s Four.”
Angel’s expression changes instantly, something close to panic flickers across his face. He rushes to Cypher’s side, they talk quickly, but I can’t make out what they are saying over the chaos around me. Then he slams his hand down on the bar.
“Quiet!” he roars.
The room falls silent again.
And Clutch still hasn’t moved.