Chapter 10 #2
Composed. The Prez mask is back in place, but I saw underneath it.
I saw how much my leaving hurt him.
"I love him, Dad." The words tumble out. "I know it's fast and crazy and he lied to you, but I love Shadow."
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away. "I know you do. Shiver told me. Said you got his name tattooed and everything."
I pull back, lift my shirt slightly to show the bandage on my ribs.
He stares at it for a long moment.
His expression is unreadable, but I see his throat work as he swallows hard.
"I guess you really are Property of Shadow," he says quietly.
"By choice," I say firmly. "No one forced me. No one bought me. I chose him, Dad."
"I know." Phantom's hands drop to his sides. "And that's what scares me. A man you'd mark yourself for permanently—that's a man who has power over you."
"He'd never hurt me."
"I know that too. That's why I'm here." Phantom looks toward the clubhouse where I know Shadow is probably watching. "To make sure no one else does either."
Movement catches my eye.
Shadow's walking toward us, slow and cautious, like he's approaching a dangerous animal.
The tension spikes immediately.
Dad’s entire posture changes—shoulders back, jaw set, eyes hard.
The emotion from moments ago is completely buried now.
Shadow stops a few feet away. "Phantom."
"Enforcer." Phantom's voice is ice.
Interesting… because Dad kicked Shadow out of the club.
Maybe there’s a chance he’ll be reinstated. God, I hope so.
They stare at each other, and I'm caught between them, barely breathing.
The hostility is palpable.
Dad's hands curl into fists at his sides.
Shadow's jaw is tight, his expression carefully neutral but his eyes wary.
Finally, Dad speaks. "We'll talk. After this is done. After Flint's dead and my daughter's safe. Then you and me are gonna have words about what you did. About the lies. About marrying her without talking to me first. About all of it."
"I understand," Shadow says quietly.
"But for now?" Dad extends his hand, though his expression doesn't soften. "We ride together. For Grace."
Shadow takes it.
The handshake is brief, firm, and loaded with tension and anger.
Not forgiveness.
Not even close.
But a truce.
For me.
An hour later, I'm in the Reapers Rejects clubhouse feeling like I’m watching a war council.
Damon sits at the head of the table—Reapers Rejects President, commanding the room. Dad's beside him, equal presence.
Two Prezs, united for one purpose.
Dixon, Thunder, Shadow, Shiver, Blaze, Blight, Rogue, and a dozen other brothers fill the rest of the space.
Maps spread across the table. Phones showing the location Flint texted.
An abandoned lot on the outskirts of Vegas.
Industrial area, no witnesses.
"It's a trap," Thunder says, studying the map. "Has to be."
"Of course it's a trap." Shadow's voice is flat. "Flint's not stupid. But we're going anyway."
Damon nods. "We bring overwhelming force. Make it clear that coming after Grace was a mistake."
"How many brothers?" Phantom asks.
"Twenty from Reapers Rejects. Five from Shotgun Saints." Damon looks around the table. "That's twenty-five armed brothers against however many Copperhead Kings Flint brought."
"We go in prepared for a full crew," Dixon adds. "Assume the worst case scenario."
Dad's looking at the map, calculating. "What about Grace?"
Every eye in the room turns to me.
I straighten my spine, ready to argue. "I want to—"
"No." Dad and Shadow say it at the same time.
"She stays here," Dad continues. "Protected. Safe."
Shadow nods. "Agreed. I can't focus on ending Flint if I'm worried about Grace being in danger."
I want to argue. Want to demand to be there. Want to see Flint's face when he realizes he lost.
But looking at my father's face, at Shadow's face—I see the fear underneath the anger.
The terror that something might happen to me.
"Okay," I say quietly. "I'll stay."
Relief floods Shadow's expression, and Dad’s shoulders relax slightly.
"Siren and Sakura will stay with her," Shiver says. "And we'll leave a few prospects for security."
Damon nods. "Three brothers stay back. Armed. Alert. Everyone else rides."
The planning continues.
Positions, weapons, contingencies.
I watch Shadow's face as he discusses strategy—cold, focused, dangerous.
This is what an enforcer is—the man who eliminates threats.
The man I married.
An hour later, the meeting breaks up.
Brothers dispersing to prepare.
Shadow finds me outside, and for a moment, the mask drops.
He's just my husband again.
"I need you safe," he says, pulling me close. "That's all that matters."
"I know."
"This will be over soon. Tonight, Flint dies. The threat ends. And then we go home."
"Home," I echo. "Back to Texas?"
"Back to Texas. Back to the ranch. Back to our life, whatever that looks like now." He kisses my forehead. "Together."
"Together," I whisper.
Hours crawl by.
I try to sleep. Can't.
Try to eat. Can't.
Try to do anything except think about tonight.
Fail.
Shadow's been in and out all day—checking weapons, talking strategy, coordinating with Damon and my father.
Every time he comes back to the trailer, he checks on me.
It’s like he touches me just to make sure I’m real.
"You okay?" he asks for the tenth time.
"No. But I will be. After tonight."
He pulls me close, careful of both our healing tattoos. "This is almost over, darlin'. Just a few more hours."
"And then what?"
"Then we go home. Back to Texas. Figure out what's next." He kisses the top of my head.
There’s a knock on the trailer door.
Shadow tenses, but he heads over to it and opens it.
My father stands there, holding something.
Shadow's cut.
The Shotgun Saints cut that was stripped from him at the meet.
"This is yours," Phantom says, his voice neutral. "You're not a member. Not officially. But you're riding with us tonight. For Grace. So you wear the patch."
Shadow stares at it like he can't quite believe it's real.
"Phantom—"
"Don't make it a big thing." Dad's voice is firm. "This doesn't mean you're reinstated. Doesn't mean we're good. We're not. But tonight? You're a brother. You wear the cut, you ride with us, you fight with us." He pauses. "After tonight, we'll see."
Shadow takes the cut, runs his fingers over the patch. Shotgun Saints MC. The club he gave up for me.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
Dad just nods, then looks at me. "Baby girl, can I talk to you? Alone?"
Shadow glances at me. I nod. "It's okay."
Shadow leaves, taking his cut with him, and it's just me and my father in the small trailer.
Dad sits on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking older than I remember. Tired.
"You really love him?" he asks.
"Yes."
"And he treats you right? Takes care of you?"
"Yes, Dad. He does."
He nods slowly. "I see the way he looks at you. Like you're the only thing in the world that matters. Like he'd burn everything to ash to keep you safe."
"He would."
"I know." Phantom's quiet for a moment. "That's what scares me. A man that obsessed does crazy things."
"He'd never hurt me."
"I know that too." Phantom looks at me, really looks at me. "When you left—when you ran—I thought I'd lost you. Thought you'd never come back. Thought I'd driven you away for good."
"Dad—"
"Let me finish." His voice cracks slightly, the emotion breaking through again. "You're my baby girl, Grace. My little girl. And I failed you. I arranged that marriage to Bronco. Handed you to a monster. And I didn't even know what I'd done until years later when you finally told me."
Tears burn my eyes. "That wasn't your fault."
"It was. I'm your father. I'm supposed to protect you. And I put you in danger." He reaches for my hand. "So, if Shadow makes you happy, if he keeps you safe, if he's what you need—then I'll deal with it. I'll find a way to accept it."
"I need him, Dad. I love him."
"Then that's enough for me." Dad stands, kisses my forehead. "But if he ever hurts you—"
"He won't."
"If he does, I'll kill him myself."
He won’t ever do it, but I know my father isn’t bluffing.
It’s eight in the evening and the sun is setting over the Vegas desert, painting everything gold and red.
The Reapers Rejects compound is complete chaos—brothers suiting up, checking weapons, and preparing to ride.
Twenty Reapers Rejects brothers in full cuts. Five Shotgun Saints brothers in theirs.
All armed. All ready.
And I'm not going with them.
Shadow finds me outside the trailer.
He's wearing his Shotgun Saints cut again, and seeing him in it does something to me.
Makes him look more himself. More complete.
Dangerous.
"You're really not letting me come," I say. Not a question.
"No." His voice is firm. Final. "You stay here. Safe."
"Shadow—"
He cups my face in his hands, forces me to look at him. "Grace, I can't focus on ending Flint if I'm worried about you. I need to know you're here. Protected. Safe. Can you give me that?"
I want to argue. Want to demand to go. Want to see Flint's face when he realizes he lost.
But Shadow's right.
"Okay," I whisper. "I'll stay."
Relief floods his expression. "Thank you."
He kisses me, deep and desperate, like he's trying to memorize the taste of me.
"I love you," he murmurs against my lips.
"I love you too. Come back to me."
"Always."
Dad approaches, his expression hard. "Shadow, we're moving out."
Shadow nods, steps back from me, and I watch him transform.
Watch the man I love disappear behind the enforcer's mask.
Cold. Dangerous. Ready for whatever comes next.
Dad turns to me. "Baby girl, you stay inside the clubhouse. Siren and Sakura are staying back with you, the kids, and other ol’ ladies. A few brothers too, for protection."
"Dad—"
"No arguments." His voice is pure command. "You stay here. We handle this. Then we come back."
He pulls me into a hug, quick and tight.
"Love you, Grace."
"Love you too, Dad. Be careful."
"Always am."
Then he's gone, mounting his bike.