Chapter Twenty-Six - Chapter Twenty-Five
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Chapter Twenty-Five
I WANDERED THROUGH the parking lot, my eyes scanning the shadows for Sean. He was nowhere to be found, but his bike was still there.
Where could he have gone?
A heavy sigh escaped me. I needed to leave—I’d had more than my fill of drama for one day. Disappointment ran through me, to the point of feeling sick. What I’d witnessed inside the clubhouse had shaken me, left me questioning everything. The stories I’d overheard, the whispers about what still goes on in ‘the other room’... it was all too much. I wasn’t okay with any of it—not if I was supposed to be in a relationship with one of these men.
Randi had said the things in that video were from before any of the wives or girlfriends had come along.
But were they still angry about it?
Absolutely.
And who wouldn’t be? Who wants to see their man having sex with someone else, past or not? The sight of Jarrod taking part in such a vile display made me realize something cold and hard: I don’t belong in this world. No matter how much I love him, I’m too sensitive, too soft for what goes on here.
This was part of biker life I couldn’t accept or handle. Men were fickle creatures. I had first hand knowledge and having that kind of temptation at your fingertips? Just no. Crushing any thought of ever reconciling with Jarrod.
Reluctantly, I turned back toward the clubhouse, my feet dragging as I prepared to search for Sean again. But just as I reached the door, it was blocked by the woman who had been staring at me during the wedding. She stood there, her eyes boring into mine, a challenge in her stance.
“Excuse me,” I said, reaching for the knob.
She didn’t budge. “You’re here with Sean?”
“Yeah, have you seen him?”
“No,” she replied, her voice icy. “But if you don’t want Valley, then let him go.” She pushed off the door, her gaze piercing. “It’s not fair to string him along when there’s another woman ready to love him.”
“I’m not stringing him along,” I snapped back, my frustration at this whole damn day showing. “He’s free to be with whoever he wants.”
What the hell was happening today? This woman clearly had feelings for Jarrod, and it was obvious she was one of the women who lived at the clubhouse. Had Jarrod had sex with her too?
Of course he had. Who was I trying to kid?
She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “No, he’s not free until you give him his heart back.” With that, she turned and vanished around the corner of the building, leaving me perplexed.
Her words played in my mind. What was she talking about? Shaking it off, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, and the hallway seemed to swallow me whole. “Madeline.” A voice called out; the sound muffled, as if coming from inside the walls. I froze, listening intently. “Madeline, in here.”
“Hello?” My voice wavered, my heart thudding against my ribcage. “Sean?” I called, realizing too late how ridiculous that sounded—it was a woman’s voice.
“In here.” The voice led me to a door on my right.
Jarrod’s room.
My pulse quickened as I hesitated on the threshold, every instinct screaming at me to turn back. But I couldn’t. My feet carried me inside, the room eerily quiet. It felt like the scene from a horror movie, where the protagonist makes the fatal mistake of stepping into the darkness.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice trembling as I scanned the room, finding it empty. But then a shiver ran down my spine. Someone was behind me. I could feel it, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
Slowly, I turned around.
A figure loomed in the shadows, cloaked in black from head to toe, the door clicking shut behind it. “Hello, Madeline,” it whispered, advancing toward me with a menacing grace. Panic shot through me as I shrank back, desperately searching for an escape.
“What?” The word barely escaped my lips, strangled by the terror that seized me. The figure lunged, and my scream lodged in my throat as I threw my arms up in defense. But instead of the expected impact, the figure stopped inches from me, hovering like a predator toying with its prey.
The air grew heavy, thick with a scent I couldn’t quite place—something familiar, almost like cologne. My stomach churned as I tried to edge away, but my legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot. The figure tilted its head, as if studying me, its presence both terrifying and mesmerizing. My mind screamed at me to run, but I was frozen in place, trapped by the fear that wrapped around me like a vise.
The silence stretched, unbearable, until finally the figure spoke again, its voice low and rasping. “You don’t deserve this, Madeline. This is Jarrod’s fault.”
Something in those words pierced through the fog of fear, igniting a spark of anger. “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice trembling but firm. “What do you want?”
The figure leaned closer, its breath hot against my skin as it whispered, “To kill you, of course.”
In a flash, it reached out, grabbing my wrist with a grip like iron. Pain shot through my arm, and I gasped, trying to pull away, but the figure held fast, its arm raising with the knife gleaming in the sunlight from the window.
But before its arm came down, the figure suddenly released me, stepping back into the shadows. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was spinning, the weight of the moment pressing down on me from all sides. The door suddenly opened, and I heard Jarrod say my name right before I fell to the floor in a dead faint.
“MADELINE?” MY VOICE was barely out before she crumpled to the floor, her body hitting the wood with a sickening thud. I was at her side in an instant, my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were shaking as they hovered over her, not knowing where to start, where to touch, as I scanned her pale, lifeless face.
“Madeline!” I repeated, my voice cracking as my fingers brushed through her hair, searching desperately for any sign of what had just happened.
“Fuck!” Sean’s voice cut through the haze as he burst into the room, eyes wide with alarm. “What the hell happened? What’s wrong with her?”
“Get Jonesy, now!” I snapped, my words coming out as a growl. Sean bolted out the door, and within moments, Jonesy was by my side, his expression grim as he kneeled beside Madeline’s limp body.
Jonesy’s fingers were immediately at her neck, checking her pulse, then lifting her eyelids to peer into her eyes. “What the hell happened, Valley?”
“I don’t know!” I bit out, the fear in my voice betraying my usual carefree attitude. “I walked in, and she just... dropped. She looked terrified—like she’d seen a ghost.”
Jonesy slapped her cheek lightly, trying to rouse her. “Madeline, can you hear me? Wake up!”
Her eyes fluttered open, but instead of relief, a fresh wave of panic crashed over me as she shoved Jonesy away, her movements frantic. “I need to go home,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wild as they locked onto mine. “Jarrod, take me home. Now.”
“Madeline, why did you pass out? What happened?” I demanded, my voice harsh, but I could already see the answer on her wrist—a dark, angry bruise in the shape of a handprint. “Who the fuck hurt you?”
“Please,” she begged, her voice trembling, her eyes filled with a terror that I never wanted to see on her face again. “Just take me away from here.”
Sean appeared in her line of vision, his face a mask of concern. “Who did this, Madeline? Who touched you?”
Sarah rushed in, her expression softening as she took in Madeline’s state. “You were attacked, weren’t you? We need to know what happened, then we’ll get you out of here. I promise.”
Madeline took a shaky breath, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a broken whisper. “I was looking for Sean... I just wanted to leave. Then I heard my name, coming from this room... it sounded like a woman.”
Ice-cold dread seeped into my veins as I thought of Kezia, but before I could say anything, Madeline continued, her voice cracking with each word. “I walked in, and there was someone... all in black, face covered. And then...” She choked on a sob, her entire body trembling.
Sarah gently urged her on, her voice soft but insistent. “What happened then, Madeline?”
“It... it said I had to die because of Jarrod,” she whispered, her words barely audible. “He had a knife and grabbed me, and I thought... I thought it was over for me, but he must have heard Jarrod at the door and let me go... disappearing.”
“He?” My mind was racing, fury and fear warring within me. This wasn’t just some ghost story—this was fucking real, and it was deadly. Jonesy shot a look at Sean, who immediately slipped out to alert Patch.
Madeline’s brow furrowed, her voice unsteady as she tried to piece it all together. “The voice I heard... it was a woman. But the one who grabbed me... it was a man. I’m sure of it. His voice was low, but... there’s no doubt.”
Jonesy’s voice was sharp, cutting to the chase. “And he said it was because of Jarrod—Valley?”
She nodded, her eyes searching mine, filled with fear, confusion, and something deeper—something that twisted like a knife in my gut. “Yes, he said... this was Jarrod’s fault.” Her voice wavered as she tried to push herself up. “Please, can I go home now?”
Jonesy turned to Sarah, his tone leaving no room for an argument. “Sarah, take her home.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice rough as I moved to help her. “I’m heading into town anyway.”
“No,” Jonesy shot back, his voice firm. “She’s in no condition to ride on a bike, Valley. Sarah will drive her in her car. It’s safer.”
Sarah nodded, her hand gentle as she touched Madeline’s face. “He’s right. She’s still too shaken up.”
Madeline gave a weak nod, allowing Sarah to guide her out just as Patch stormed in, his face like thunder.
“What the fuck is going on today?” he growled, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. “Someone fill me in, now.”
As we relayed what happened, Patch’s expression darkened, his jaw set in a hard line. “This isn’t some random shit. Someone’s coming after the club, using our women to get at us. This feels personal to Valley, but I’ve got a bad feeling it’s bigger than that. This entire club could be in the target.”
“What’s the plan?” I asked, my mind spinning with a thousand dark thoughts, trying to make sense of it all—trying to accept the growing knowledge that this was more than just Kezia’s ghost.
Patch’s eyes were cold, calculating. “I’ll call church in the morning, but for now, spread the word—every member guards their woman like their life depends on it. Because it just might.”
I clenched my fists, the reality of what almost happened hitting me like a ton of bricks. “He was going to kill her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “If I hadn’t come back to my room, she’d be...” The words died in my throat, too horrific to speak. The men nodded, their faces grim as they left the room.
Left alone, the rage inside me boiled over. I looked around the room, my vision blurring with anger. “You want a fucking war?” I snarled, my voice echoing off the walls, filled with a promise of violence. “Now you’ve got one!” With a final growl, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.