We had one night.
That is all we will ever have.
Now, I have a job to do.
Wiping my face, I turn the ignition and pull out of the clubhouse, glancing into the rearview and watching the clubhouse as I pull down the street, leaving a piece of my heart back there with Sin and the rest of the club.
They’re going to hate me for what I am about to do.
Sin will never forgive me.
I don’t know if I will either.
Averting my eyes from the mirror, I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead.
It doesn’t matter what I think or feel about the club.
They killed Marcus.
I have to focus on that fact to get me through this.
That is theonlything Icanthink about right now.
I went in there to find a story.
To find information that is newsworthy.
The club is dealing in illegal gold, and civilians are going to be caught in the crosshairs of an imminent war between them and the Hidden Hand Alliance at any time now.
The club is dangerous, and lives are going to be lost.
Ihaveto stop them from killing any more brothers.
Any more sons.
They have given meno choice.
A single tear slides down my face as Marcus’ song switches over on the playlist, “Smoke and Mirrors.”
“Do your goals align with your true self?” I whisper to myself the theme of the song. A question I ask myself constantly. With my heart feeling like it’s about to explode, I turn my car into the station.
My hands shake on the steering wheel as I drive into the nearest parking spot and turn off the ignition. Letting out some long breaths to try and calm myself, I glance in the mirror, hardly recognizing myself.
My makeup from last night is smudged. My hair is all over the place. I look fucking terrible. But if I don’t do this now, I will lose confidence. “This was always your goal… so it has to be your true self, right?” I try to convince myself.
Though I feel like, somehow, I’m lying.
Like, my loyalties have shifted.
But they can’t.
Ican’tbe loyal to the club.
I have to be loyal to Marcus.
Smoke and mirrors, smoke and mirrors, I repeat in my head to give me the boost I need to do this. Exhaling, I open my door and slide out of the car, my black flowing dress still on from last night, no panties because Sin tore them off. I make my way toward the front door of the police station. There’s hesitation inevery single step I take. My knees feel like they want to give out at any second.
Opening the front doors, I step inside the bustling station, which is already busy for the first day of the year. Drunken revelers are asleep in the lobby, handcuffed, waiting for processing. Cops are walking around waiting for assignments. For being the first thing in the morning, it’s damn busy.
