Chapter Thirty
Bane
That same day, in Deadwood, South Dakota...
Lying there on the small cot, trying not to move, I thought back to the first time I met the love of my life and how much that moment changed everything.
Not only for me, but for the club as well.
Had I known who she truly was and the heartache both of us would endure over the years, I knew deep in my heart I would still do it all over again.
Just to see her, to hold her, to hear her laugh.
Even though we only had a few short months, those months sustained me through the years, and I could only pray that she held on to the hope that someday we would be together again.
“Diana,” I whispered her name as I closed my eyes and remembered the night we first met.
Inside my room, I quickly shut the door and locked it, leaning my back against the door and sighing. Shit, this was not good.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling as she looked around the space.
I knew what she was seeing. All the rooms were the same.
A large bed, a desk, and a bathroom. Nothing of me personally, but the bed sat prominently front and center.
These rooms were for one thing only, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what that was.
Staring at the enormous bed, she whispered, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me. ”
I saw a mix of gratitude and something else—a spark of determination in her eyes, and I nodded. “Sure. No problem. I’m August, by the way,” I added, offering her a hand. “And you are?”
She smiled up at me, taking my hand, and said, “Diana. Diana Cooper.”
As she took another look at the bed, I whispered, “Hey. It’s going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen. I don’t care what George said.” Walking over to the desk, I pulled out the chair and placed it next to her. “Here. Why don’t you sit here, and I’ll go sit on the bed? We can talk.”
She chuckled as she tentatively sat down. “I don’t think that’s what Barney had in mind when he told me to be here tonight.”
“How did you get mixed up with Barney?”
Sighing, she looked around my room, twiddling with her fingers as she spoke carefully. “I met him by chance. I was out one night with my roommate, and she introduced me to him. I knew I should have stayed home and studied.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew Angelica, that’s my roommate. I knew she wouldn’t stop pushing until I did. From the moment school started, she’d been trying to get me to loosen up and have fun. She was relentless about it too. Which is odd, because at first, she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“How so?”
Smirking, she looked around the room and said, “I’m a bookworm. I prefer books to people. I’m attending NYU because of the English Lit program. It’s one of the best.”
Diana hesitated, her eyes flicking down to her hands.
“She kept to herself for the first couple of weeks. She barely said two words to me unless it was about the thermostat or the laundry. Then, out of nowhere, she started inviting me to things. Parties, late-night diners, concerts. I don’t know what changed, but she sort of adopted me. Decided I was her project, maybe.”
I leaned back, watching the way her jaw clenched as she spoke. “Did you want to be her project?”
She laughed, the sound brittle. “Not really. I’m not good with crowds, or noise, or... people. But Angelica has this way of making it sound like you’ll miss out on something huge if you say no. I guess I was tired of sitting alone, listening to everyone else live their lives.”
I nodded, understanding more than I cared to admit. “So, Barney was just... there?”
“Not really.” Her lips pursed. “I met him the night she talked me into going out with her. She wanted to club-hop. By the second club, I was done. I wanted to go back to the dorm and study for my algebra test, but she talked me into one more club. That’s where I met Barney.
At the Gentlemen’s Club. He was nice at first. He’d crack jokes, buy drinks, and make me feel like I belonged.
I thought he was just being friendly. I was wrong. ”
The room seemed to shrink for a moment, heavy with the things unsaid. I tried to soften my voice. “You’re safe here. I promise.”
A slight, grateful smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you. I know you don’t owe me anything, but—thank you.”
She was beautiful. Stunning. Shy and reserved.
She was nothing like the typical Barney girl, who were mostly outspoken and determined to snag a club brother.
Yet, looking at Diana, I instinctively knew she was nothing of the sort.
In fact, if I were a betting man, the only place she’d feel truly comfortable was in a library, surrounded by books.
There was a quiet peacefulness that surrounded her.
Yet there was an air of mystery and strong resolve that contradicted the persona she portrayed.
I glanced at the stack of books on my desk, titles ranging from Austen to Morrison, their spines worn and well-loved.
I said nothing as Diana stood and walked over to them, picking the top one up as she carefully opened it.
“Sometimes I wonder if Angelica saw something in me that I’m still searching for,” she said quietly as she flipped the page.
“She’s fearless. She dives in, never hesitating.
I wish I could be like that—just for a night, just to see what it feels like. ”
I considered what she was saying, listening to the yearning in her voice. “Did you ever tell her?”
She shook her head, lips pressed thin. “How do you tell someone you envy them without sounding ungrateful?” The music and laughter from downstairs pulsed as she sighed, carefully returning the book to the stack.
“She’s not perfect, you know,” I said. “Nobody is.”
A faint smile ghosted across her angelic face, thoughtful. “No. But sometimes, she makes me believe I could be a little more than I am.”
And in that fragile honesty, something shifted—a tiny crack in the shell she wore so carefully, an invitation to linger, to listen.
For a long moment, we simply sat, two souls tangled in questions, the world outside receding until all that remained were the stories we carried and the comfort of being heard, and the more I listened, the more I realized I had fallen incandescently in love with her.
My head flew back, and I grunted as Zephyr took another swing at my face.
I was pretty damn sure he had cracked my orbital socket and possibly fractured my cheekbone.
Still, that sadistic motherfucker never relented.
He was determined to break me one way or another.
Grabbing a handful of my hair, he yanked my head back so hard I winced.
“Tell me what I want to know, Bane, and this shit will end right now.”
Barely able to open my one good eye, I spat blood in his face and seethed. “Go fuck yourself.”
Zephyr’s grip on my hair tightened, his knuckles white with rage. “You leave me no choice, Bane. This doesn’t have to hurt more than it already does.”
I could hear the sick satisfaction in his voice. With a swift movement, he pulled my hair harder, forcing my neck to crane backwards. I felt the strain, a searing pain shooting down my spine.
“Last chance, or I break your fucking neck.”
I knew he would do it, the sick bastard. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Through gritted teeth, I spat out another curse. “You’ll have to work harder than that, Zephyr. I’m not breaking.” My defiance was met with a vicious backhand across the face, the force of it causing me to see stars. I tasted blood, felt it trickling down my chin.
Zephyr leaned in close, his hot breath on my face. “We’ll see who breaks first, Bane. This is far from over.”
The bastard released my hair, and I slumped forward, my body aching, my face a mess of blood and bruises.
All I had to do was hold out and give the others time.
But I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
As it was, I knew I was nearing my breaking point, and the thought of what Zephyr would do next filled me with dread.