As the hot water streams down, warming my skin, I try to let it soothe the tension in my body, washing away the lingering sadness. But my mind drifts back to the last time we were here together. His hands running over my hips, his lips on my neck,licking the sensitive spot he always knew sent shivers through me. I loved how he whispered dirty things in my ear before fucking me against the shower wall like he owned every part of me and I surrendered every time. Yet, here I stand, alone, with only memories of what once was, trying to make sense of a love that I thought was unbreakable.
Steam swirls around me as I step out of the shower, the hot water having done little to relax my tense muscles. Toweling off carefully, doing my best to avoid the bandage on my leg, I wince from the dull throb in my thigh. I hate taking pain meds, but if I’m going to get any sleep tonight, I need to take one just to take the edge off.
Slipping into a soft pair of cotton pajamas is comforting, something familiar, but I take notice of how loose they feel against my frame, reminding me of how much weight I lost over the last couple of weeks. Pulling my hair into a loose bun, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I’m not shocked by what I see. Exhaustion is written in the lines around my eyes and the sadness behind them is too hard to ignore.
Sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, I stare at the empty space beside me where Silas should be. My fingers absently run over the cool sheets, missing his presence. I can almost feel his warm body pressed against mine, his hand resting lazily over my hip, the way we slept every night. The sharp whistle of the kettle on the stove pulls me from the memory and I head into the kitchen. With each step, the silence in the house feels heavier, almost suffocating, and that’s when the idea hit me, what I need to do to begin healing from this. I walk back to the bedroom, set my tea on the nightstand, and reach for my phone.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Ember? It’s late. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But I’ve been thinking. I need to get out of Atlanta for a while, so I’m going home with you… to South Dakota. I want to visit Mom’s grave and clear my head,” I say, my voice wavering slightly.
“You want to come home with me?” He repeats, pausing before responding. “Are you sure that’s what you need right now, Em?” He asks, his tone soft, filled with empathy.
“Yeah, I am. It’s been too long since I’ve been home, and I think seeing EJ and visiting Mom’s resting place will help me figure out what to do next. I just… I can’t stay here right now.”
“Alright. I understand. Do you need me to come help you pack?”
“Would you mind? I don’t think I can do this alone,” I admit, voice cracking from the emotional toll of everything.
“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll be there first thing in the morning. It’ll be nice to have some company for the trip home. And Ember, you don’t have to do any of this alone,” he reassures, lifting some of the weight off my shoulders.
“Thank you, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hanging up the call, I feel light for the first time which is confirmation that I’ve made the right decision. It doesn’t make any of this easier but it gives me a break from the constant reminders of Silas. Pulling back the covers, I nestle into bed and reach for my tea, my thoughts shifting to my trip home. It’ll be good to see everyone, especially my friend, Kelly, and catch up on each other’s lives. As sleep finally starts to claim me, I can’t help but wonder... do I have room in my heart to forgive Silas or are we lost forever, buried beneath the weight of his lies.
TWENTY-ONE
MAVERICK
My mind isa storm as I pull into the compound. The place I’d always seen as my sanctuary now feels cold and hollow. Killing the engine, I remain seated on my bike, staring out at the rows of motorcycles and the clubhouse beyond, all blurring together. The weight of Ember’s words crash over me again, each one cutting deeper, like they’re etched into my skin.
Leaving our home felt like I ripped out my own fucking heart. With nothing but silence around me, the reality hits me hard… a future without her and a house we built together, left behind. Everything I’d fought to protect, both in my life and the club, suddenly feels like it’s slipping away, leaving me in a freefall. Anger and desperation claw at my veins, urging me to act, to regain control somehow. But where do I even start?
Taking a long, deep breath, I run my hands over my face, trying to calm the storm raging in my mind. I can’t lose her, not over this. But I shattered her trust, splintered it in ways I’m not sure I can repair. My loyalty to my club and my wife has always clashed, but this time the stakes were higher, and I paid the price. Now, I need to figure out if there’s a way back or if I haveto live with this emptiness. Right now, all I want is a stiff drink and a game of pool to dull the ache.
Heading up the stairs, the front gate opening catches my attention, its loud creak filling the space. At this hour, it can only mean Lone Wolf and Bianca getting in from Peaches. But as the gate begins to close, headlights flood the dark road behind them, making my gut tighten. Within seconds, the roar of engines surrounds them and the unmistakable insignia of the Road Reapers glints in the dim light. Bianca sprints toward the house and Lone whips his bike around, positioning himself to give her a head start. The heavy metal gate manages to keep most of the Reapers out, but enough slip through to cause a big problem.
The commotion must’ve alerted my men because the front door swings open and every Bastard barrels out, weapons ready to meet the threat head-on. Nightmare tosses me his spare gun and we charge toward the gate to handle business. With their engines silenced, the Reapers dismount, guns at the ready, outnumbered but still looking for a fight.
“I’m here to collect what’s mine,” Blade announces, voice low and challenging. “Bianca belongs to me, and I’m not leaving without her.”
The tension between us is electric, charging the air, adding to an already tense night. These fuckers picked the perfect night to show up at my door, trying to claim what isn’t theirs. The mood I’m in? Busting up some Reapers is exactly what I’m itching for.
“Seems you’re spending more time on our turf than your own lately,” I say, meeting his glare. “Not sure what game you think you’re playing, but I told you to keep away from Bianca.”
Blade chuckles, crossing his arms. “You think the Royal Bastards hold all the power around here?” He sneers. “We don’t back down from a fight. So get used to us being around unless you’re ready to give me back what’s mine!” He raises his voice,but the edge falls flat. His attempt at intimidation is a complete fail.
“If you don’t get out of here right now, I’ll make sure every mile back to your clubhouse is pure hell,” I growl, watching as this motherfucker smirked just like he did at Peaches. Before this night is over, I’m going to knock that grin right off his face.
“You can’t protect her forever. The second you slip, even a little, we’ll be here, ready to take her,” he taunts, his tone dripping with arrogance.
“Try me, asshole,” I snap, stepping forward. “But know this… if you come at us again, show up at Peaches, or even get within sight of Bianca, you’ll be leaving more than your pride on the pavement.” He pauses, sizing me up, likely trying to decide if I mean what I say. I don’t flinch.
“We’ll see if you’re as tough as you talk,” Blade sneers, giving a mocking salute as he backs away. “Let’s go, boys,” he commands, and each Reaper mounts their bike, eyes locked on us. We stay rooted in place, watching them closely in case they try anything.
A heartbeat later, a gunshot rings out from the gate, shattering the silence. Chaos erupts as we return fire, unleashing hell on the Reapers. Flashes of gunfire slice through the night, filling the compound with deafening shots. Several Reapers fall, bodies hitting the ground like dominoes. The adrenaline-fueled clash fades as we overpower them, ending their sorry ass attempt at a coup.
