The relief hit me like a gut punch. I’d braced for resistance. For judgment. What I got instead was trust.
"Then it’s a deal," I said, my voice firm now. No more room for doubt.
I left the office feeling like I’d just signed off on the most important deal of my life. The President of the National Chapter had our backs. My girls were safe, for now.
But as I threw a leg over my Harley and kicked it to life, the rumble of the engine was steady, grounding, but it couldn’t drown out the thoughts crashing around in my head.
Roulette was going to lose her damn mind.
Half our assets were about to start filtering into RBMC territory, and not everyone was going to like what that meant. All the fronts we’d built were going to be used by another club. Even if it was through word of mouth, for now, that kind of shift made enemies. Fast.
I had no clue how I was going to explain it to the girls, let alone calm the storm when it hit. But I’d figure it out, like I always did.
Because if there was one thing this life had taught me, it was that survival isn’t about brute strength. It’s about knowing when to bite your tongue, when to strike, and when to step into the fire so it won’t burn you.
The weeks ahead were going to test every limit we had. And I’d be damned if I didn’t come out stronger.
I might bend, but I sure as hell wouldn’t break.
Chapter 15
Caleb
Present Day…
"Sir?"
That voice cut through the silence just as the rim of the glass met my lips. The whiskey hit hard. It was too sharp, too bitter, but right in line with everything my life had become. No sweetness left in it. Just bite and burn.
Leon stepped inside, shoulders squared, jaw tight, that unreadable expression he always wore when he was going to inform me of something I wasn’t going to like.
I’d been waiting for years for this. Years of silence. Years of half-assed leads and bullshit sightings. Years of trying not to let the weight of her ghost bury me alive. I should not have underestimated her the last time I'd seen her. I should have taken her, not even given her a chance to breathe, to fight back. That was my fault. It was all on me, and I goddamn knew it.
I stared back at Leon. Out of all the men I trusted, he was the one who had never given me a reason to doubt him. We’d been through hell together... real hell. Not the kind people whispered about after bar fights, but the kind that left scars and turned you into someone you barely recognized. The kind that shed bloodand turned you into monsters. That's what the Turks did to me and everything around me. It ruined it.
Still, even trust had a limit. And mine was hanging by a thread.
“We found her.”
Those three fucking words. I’d heard them too many times to count. They were always spoken of with too much certainty. Always meant to pacify me, to buy time. And every single time? They were lies.
“Say that again,” I said, not because I didn’t hear him. But because I needed to give my rage a reason to focus.
Leon didn’t flinch. “We found her.”
I set the glass down, slow and deliberate, the sound echoing like a warning. My fingers twitched. The only reason I wasn’t throwing it across the room was because I needed to hear the rest.
“You realize I’m done playing games, Leon.” My voice was low, hoarse from nights of smoking too much and sleeping too little. “I’m done chasing ghosts.”
“It’s not a ghost,” he said. “It’s her.”
I stood, rolling the tension out of my neck, jaw locked so tight it felt like it might snap. I didn’t want to believe him. Believing meant hope. And hope was a fucking cancer. The more you fed it, the deeper it grew until it owned every inch of you.
I wasn’t letting that sickness in again. Not unless he could prove it.
"Where is she?"
"New York City. “He said simply.
