My stomach churned. My belief system, the one built on honesty and trust, screamed at me to push him, to demand he speak. To force the truth out, even if it hurt. But a different voice, a colder, more selfish one, whispered that knowing the truth might irrevocably damage us both. The conflict tore at me. Staying silent felt like a betrayal of my principles, a passive acceptance of a potential deception. Pressing him, however, risked destroying something precious, something I desperately wanted to preserve. I was forced to choose between my integrity and my desire to avoid pain, a choice that felt like walking a tightrope over a chasm of broken trust. The silence stretched, each tick of the clock amplifying the internal battle, the weight of a bad choice looming large, the potential for regret a bitter taste on my tongue.
The dinner, once a simple meal, had become a battlefield for my conscience.
“I miss our daughter.”
Looking up, I swallowed my food and nodded. “She’s safe. I did just like you told me to. I had to tell Missy the truth about us, but she understood, I think. She knew who you were when I used your club name.”
Danny sighed, pushing his plate away before he leaned back in his chair. “That’s because her brother is Gunner. She grew up around the Arkansas Chapter of the Silver Shadows, before a fucking club brother put hands on her. Gunner damn near killed the son of a bitch. As soon as she left for college, the fucking idiot cut off all contact with her.”
“Why the hell did he do that?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Danny said again, smirking. “The moron thought he was protecting her. Too bad it’s gonna bite him in the ass when she shows up at the clubhouse.”
“Missy doesn’t strike me as the forgiving kind.”
“Because she’s not,” Danny said, reaching for his beer. Slowly spinning the bottle on the table, he sighed. “I need to tell you something, Dante, and you’re not gonna like it.”
Saying nothing, I waited for him to continue.
“I wasn’t just looking into the Trick Pony for the club. I was looking for the bitch that hurt you.”
“I know,” I whispered, looking down at my hands, the familiar sting of betrayal a dull ache beneath the surface. I hadn’t just wanted Jane dead. I’d fantasized about it, a dark, delicious release from the pain. But the cold calculation that followed... that was different.
That was a violation of something deep inside me.
“I couldn’t look at you every day knowing I could ease your suffering, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find her, and you know I can find anyone. Well, after the shit at the Playground, Sinclair showed up at the penthouse and I did something that I’m not proud of.”
I stiffened in my seat.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I choked out, the words a prayer and an accusation.
“I asked Sin for a favor.”
“SON OF A BITCH!” I roared, jumping to my feet, my rage a thin veil over a deeper, sickening dread. “Do you know what you’ve done? That fucking bastard never hands out favors without getting something in return. Never.”
“I know that.” Danny’s voice was flat, devoid of his usual bravado.
He knew, too.
He’d known all along what he was doing. And he did it anyway.
“And you asked anyway, why?” My voice was barely a rasp.
“Because I had information he wanted.”
His confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken consequences. My insides twisted.
He traded his soul for revenge.
“What?” I seethed. “What could you have that he couldn’t get for himself?”
Danny looked up at me, his eyes haunted. “Information on the whereabouts of your mother.”
“What are you talking about? My mother is dead.” My words were a shield, a desperate attempt to cling to a familiar pain, rather than confront the devastating truth.
Danny shook his head. “She’s alive, Dante. She was with you when you and the others escaped.”
Sitting back down, a cold wave washed over me.
