“Maverick, please,” he whimpers, desperation thick in his voice. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll leave and never come back to Georgia.”
I don’t even flinch at his words. They mean nothing now. There’s no more room for mercy. Without responding, I raise the shovel, focused on finishing what I came here to do.
“Shine the light on his face for me,” I tell Dementor, as his boys toss Fury in the hole. Grabbing their shovels, we start filling it, leaving his face exposed, just enough for him to see what’s coming. He’s choking on blood and fear, pleading for his life. Crouching down, I stare into his swollen, bloodshot eyes, my voice cold.
“Any last words, motherfucker?”
Fury’s face is a wreck of bruises and broken bones, unrecognizable. I had to restrain myself from finishing him off in the basement, my anger almost getting the best of me. “The Savage Knights… they’ll come for me,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.
Gritting my teeth, the rage flaring up again, I growl,
“Let them come, we’ll have holes waiting for them too!”
Without another word, I shovel dirt onto his face, his muffled screams fading as his eyes go wide in death’s stare.
“Good riddance,” I sneer, packing the ground with the last of the dirt, burying Ember’s past, hoping we can move forward.
SIXTEEN
MAVERICK
Standing beneath the showerhead,I let the hot water hammer against my back, hoping the heat would burn away my anger. But I barely feel it. Steam rises around me, thick and suffocating, but nothing could thaw the cold rage settled deep inside. Bowing my head, I watch as the red-streaked water swirls down the drain, Fury’s blood mingling with the dirt from his grave. I scrub my skin hard, trying to rid myself of the night to force my mind onto thoughts of Ember. I know she’s going to pull through, but I can’t shake the image of those machines breathing for her while her body fights to recover from the loss of blood. The love I have for her, makes me physically ache and knowing someone hurt her has fucked me up in the head.
Fury’s weak threat of more Savage Knights coming for us fell on deaf ears. I spoke to Jameson on our way back to the compound and he wasted no time making a threat of his own. His reach is far, eyes and ears everywhere, and it didn’t take long for word to spread. Any Savage Knight crossing into Georgia will be hunted down and tortured to death, whether they were on club business or just passing through. After Jameson told theirVP what went down with Fury and his crew, nothing else needed to be said.
The water circling the drain finally runs clear. Wish I could say the same for my mind. Leaning against the shower wall, my thoughts land on my Ember and the last time I held her against my skin, smelled her, touched her. We hadn’t spoken much in the last two weeks. With her handling the merger and me taking care of club business, our calls were hit and miss. Closing my eyes, I imagine her small hands gripping my shoulders, her breath hitching as I kissed her warm mouth, driving my cock deep inside of her. The urgency in her voice, begging me to let her come while I relentlessly brought her to the edge only to pull her back.
She would stare at me as if I were her anchor in a storm and in those moments, I believed it. I grip my dick, slowly stroking to quell the ache of missing my wife. Every kiss and touch was a promise, an unspoken vow that neither one of us had to say out loud. I swallow hard, remembering the softness of her skin, the way her fingers tangled in my hair as she pulled me closer, the way her heart would beat against my chest as I drove us further. My name on her lips as I devoured her mouth, tipping me over the edge.
My climax hits me like a freight train. The force of it pinning me to the wall as I pump my dick with punishing strokes, releasing the rage, the guilt, and regret into the spray of the shower. Tears burning behind my eyelids spill as I let go of the pain of failing Ember, grunting out every bit of emotion coursing through my veins. My demons keep whispering that I’m going to lose Ember, that she’ll never forgive me or accept who I truly am. It feels like I’m locked in a war for my soul and the darkest parts of me are winning.
Turning off the faucet, the sound of the water fades, leaving only the deafening silence of my thoughts. Pulling the dooropen, I reach for a towel wrapping it around my waist, and step out. Walking over to the sink, I use a hand towel to wipe away the steam from the mirror and I’m not shocked at what I see. Eyes hollow, dark circles etched underneath from lack of sleep. Tired and worn out as exhaustion hits me, my body compelling me to get some rest. It doesn’t matter. Nothing is keeping me from going to Ember’s side. Walking into the bedroom, I dry off, quickly get dressed, grab my kutte, and make my way downstairs.
Nightmare and Steel are already waiting in the garage, door open, engines rumbling. No words are needed as I mount my bike and we tear down the road.
A few days later…
The fluorescent lights sting my eyes as I push through the doors, my boots echoing off the sterile floors. My pulse quickens with every step as I approach the waiting room. Ember is awake and was moved out of the ICU earlier this morning, and I’m nervous as hell to see her. Sitting by her side these past few days while she was unconscious, I’ve gone over a hundred ways in my mind on what I would say once she woke up, each time findingnothing. This will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced, hoping my wife can forgive me and letting me be the one to help her heal from all of this.
With the help of Mystique, Nightmare, and Steel, I managed to put our house back in order as if nothing happened. Thankfully, Piper will make a full recovery, but she’ll need to stay with the vet for a little while longer. Her tail wagged when she heard my voice and that was a good sign. Elijah spots me, intercepting me on my way to Ember’s room. His eyes, usually calm, held an edge of tension.
“Mav, wait,” he says quietly, pulling me a little ways down the hall. Searching his face, I ask,
“What is it?”
“If you go in there wearing that, I think it’ll do more harm than good,” he suggests, pointing at my kutte.
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s been through hell, man. All this violence, everything tied to the club… it nearly cost her life. Seeing you like this, in your colors, might be too much for her. She needs peace, not a reminder of what put her here. At least not yet.” His eyes soften, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “I know you want to tell her about your connection to the Royal Bastards, but if you walk in there looking like this, it’ll be like she’s reliving a nightmare. You don’t want to be the cause of that.”
Staring at him, a mixture of anger and understanding twist inside me. This kutte is a part of who I am and all I want is for Ember to see the real me. But Elijah has a point. It’s too soon and this isn’t the place for me to reveal my truth to her. She nearly died because of this life and I don’t want to be responsible for her having any setbacks. Exhaling slowly, the weight of this sinks in as my fingers slide along the leather vest, unhooking the clasps. Shrugging it off, I fold it before handing it to Elijah. I’msure that once I get her home, we can talk this out and she’ll see I’m the same man, kutte or not.
“Trust me, Mav. My daughter is a strong woman, but this broke her a little and she just needs time,” he adds, motioning me towards Ember’s room. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open, my heart heavy, but my head is clear as I take in my beautiful wife. She’s still hooked to a machine taking her blood pressure and several IVs of fluid, but there’s no breathing machine. Her eyes flutter open, gaze unfocused, no doubt from all the drugs flowing through her system. At first, there’s only confusion as she scans the room, blinking against the harsh lights. Then her eyes fall on me and I smile. Relief floods my chest as I take a step closer, my heart in my throat.
“Ember... baby, you're awake,” I murmur, struggling to keep my voice steady, as emotion swells inside me. Brushing my lips across her cheek, I gently wrap my hand around hers, giving it a light squeeze, letting her know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Her free hand lifts weakly, pointing toward the water pitcher on the stand at the end of the bed. Pouring her a cup, I guide the straw to her lips, watching as she takes a few small sips. Hearing the doctor say she’ll make a full recovery was one thing, but seeing her like this, awake, is something entirely different. Settling in the chair next to her bed, her gaze meets mine.
“Ember, are you..,” I begin, but she holds her hand up, halting my words.
