What happened? Who lied? Who twisted the truth to the point that I’m suddenly the villain?
My knees buckle.
Everything spins.
And then—
Darkness swallows me whole.
Twelve
Life gives you lemons, then gets your kid shot.
Idon’t know what the fuck is happening in my goddamned clubhouse. A kid just pulled a weapon on my son—my VP—and some broad I only halfway recognize is being carried out like a rag doll by a mountain-sized motherfucker I don’t know. Everything they said? Has me looking around like I walked into the wrong dimension. Like I woke up in the fucking Twilight Zone.
This ain’t how today was supposed to go.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” I bark, voice low but dangerous. The room stills. “But I’m not playing games right now. Everybody—get the fuck back to what you were doing.”
I turn my gaze to my boys.
“Axel, Nitro—grab your mother, the girls, and take ’em to a cage. Whatever the hell this shit is…” I swing my arm toward thechaos still lingering in the air. “… we table it for now. We head to the hospital. Lock this place the fuck down.”
My tone leaves no room for negotiation. I’m not the Prez anymore—but I built this damn club, and when I speak, they still listen.
Well…mostof them.
Axel throws me a look like I just spat in his face. Like my decision not to go full guns-blazing pisses him off. Tough shit. I’m not here to coddle bruised egos or feed his rage. My son—hisbrother—is in the hospital fighting for his life. Axel’s wounded pride can take a fucking number.
Locking the compound is a pain in the ass. It always is. The ol’ ladies bitch about it every time. Loudly. And unapologetically. They hate being boxed in with the club girls—especially the ones still playing musical dicks with whoever’s dumb or lonely enough to say yes. Some of those girls still think getting a patch makes them royalty. Doesn’t matter whose bed they’re in. Doesn’t matter if that manhasan ol’ lady or not. Shit’s messy. Always has been. And as fucked up as it sounds, I get it. This is the life they signed up for.Inever fucked around on my V, but some of these assholes don’t have that kind of discipline. The club girls know it and don’t care. And every lockdown, one of them stirs the pot, pushing buttons, crossing lines, reminding the ol’ ladies exactly why they hate lockdowns in the first place.
Still—like it or not—they’re necessary. You keep this many men, this much pent-up aggression, in a confined space without an outlet? Someone’s catching hands. Or worse. So yeah, keeping them around is a necessity. The club girls keep things from boiling over. That’s just facts.
So yeah—it’s chaotic. It’s loud. It’s uncomfortable. And I don’t give a fuck. Until I know where this threat is coming from, everyone’s gonna have to suck it the fuck up.
I step out of the common room and into the parking lot, barking orders to brothers still packing up from my granddaughter’s birthday. Sixteen years old. We were supposed to be celebrating her, not heading to a hospital.
Then I hear it.
A wail. Guttural. Broken.
My spine stiffens.
I turn, already knowing who it is—Heather, Talon’s ol’ lady. She’s gripping Axel like her body’s about to cave in. He’s doing what he can to hold her up, eyes haunted but focused. Behind them, I see my wife. Vera’s got Luna tucked close as they hurry toward the SUV. Vera’s strong, but I can see the worry in her eyes—she knows this shit runs deep.
How the fuck did we get here?
This was supposed to be a good day.
I stepped back from the club years ago. Watched my sons rise. Watched them build this place up, double our numbers, expand our reach. Talon’s done right by the club. He’s earned everything he’s got. But if what those boys were yelling is true… if that woman is who I think she is… then there are things my sons don’t know. ThingsIdon’t know. And I don’t like operating in the dark.
I’m a man who works off facts. And right now, I’m missing too goddamn many.
We get everyone loaded up, brothers on bikes surrounding the SUV as we make the thirty-minute ride to Mercy General. On the way, Axel fills me in. His tone’s tight, clipped. He’s still pissed, but he’s trying to keep it together.
He tells me about the confrontation. About the two boys—Talon’s sons. Sons he never knew about. It aligns with what one of them said earlier, and deep down, I already suspected it.
Then comes the kicker.
