Raising my fist to signal a cease fire, I walk over to Blade, who’s lying on the ground, grunting in pain, blood streaming from his thigh and shoulder.
“Steel, open the gate,” I order, crouching down to make sure this fucker hears me loud and clear.
“Don’t ever cross the line of Dekalb County again or I’ll make sure your clubhouse burns to the ground with every last one ofyou trapped inside,” I sneer, pressing the barrel of my gun into the wound on his thigh. Blade screams, his face contorted in agony as I press down harder, showing him that I mean that shit from my soul.
His remaining men stumble through the gate, hands raised, casting wary glances at the bodies of their fallen brothers.
“Pick up your dead, drag your pussy ass Prez out of here, and get the fuck off my property,” I command, my tone frigid. “You started this mess, now clean it up.”
They exchange looks, anger simmering beneath the fear in their eyes, but none are foolish enough to reach for their weapons.
“Take your fallen and go,” I warn. “And let this be your last reminder… come here again, and you’ll all end up the same way.”
“We don’t have a way to transport them,” one Reaper mutters.
“That’s your problem, not mine,” I reply coldly.
Another hesitates, protesting, “We can’t just mount them on our bikes.”
Cocking my gun, I press it to his temple, his hands shoot up in surrender.
“Load your trash on those fucking bikes or I’ll end you right here,” I fume, not wanting to waste any more time on this.
“Do as he says, Tank,” Blade mutters weakly, his voice barely carrying but clear enough for his men to obey. They reluctantly begin moving, lifting their fallen with grim expressions, knowing they’re leaving with more than just bodies… they’re leaving with a warning they won’t soon forget. Hopefully, this is the end of this shit and we can finally move on. I make a mental note to get the full story from Bianca about why the Reapers are so determined to take her. It’s got to be more than her being Blade’s ol’lady and he wants her back.
“Check the perimeter, inside and out. Make sure no one’s hiding on the property,” I order, glancing at the blood splattered across the ground. Dementor will have this cleaned up by morning like it never happened.
“Hey Prez!” Steel shouts, his voice tight with panic. “Get over here, quick!” I bolt toward the line of bushes by the gate, feeling dread settle in as I see Steel kneeling next to a body. My heart sinks when I see it’s Renegade, lying sprawled on the ground, a gunshot wound in his chest.
“Jesus, Renegade,” I mutter, crouching down beside him, checking for a pulse. It was faint but it was there. He’s barely breathing, his chest struggling with every rise and fall. This was the single gunshot that rang out while the Reapers were leaving. One of Blade’s men outside the gate must’ve gotten a clear shot and took it. Fucking coward. My prospect’s down and by the looks of it, he’s not going to make it. I haven’t felt this helpless since Ember’s kidnapping.
“Steel, call an ambulance. I’ll stay with him,” I sigh, knowing this may be his last few moments.
“You did good brother. You held strong, kept them from getting close to the clubhouse,” I mutter, gripping his hand. His face is pale, his breaths labored, but he manages a faint smile. I’m trying to be strong, but despite being a prospect, Renegade is family and he didn’t deserve to go out like this.
“Only… ever wanted to prove… I had it in me,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. His gaze is unfocused but determined, emitting a strength that few men have.
“You proved it a thousand times over,” I assure him, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re one of us Renegade, always will be.” His grip loosens, slipping from my hand. “Rest now brother. We’ll carry this fight forward. Your name… it won’t be forgotten. Now go give the devil hell.”
With a final breath, his eyes close, leaving a heavy silence and the weight of his sacrifice. Renegade died, protecting us, charging into the fight knowing full well what was at stake. He’ll get his full patch, a member of the Royal Bastards, in every way that counts. Steel’s going to be crushed. He gave Ren a lot of shit, but he believed in him and knew he’d be a strong addition to the club. He was ride or die and it showed in everything he did. Aging out of foster care, Renegade had no family to speak of. He was lost, just trying to find his way, something real to define who he was. With us, he found his family and I’ll make sure he has a proper send-off. We’ll ride in his honor and celebrate the man he became.
Soon, the ambulance arrives, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the clubhouse. We stand by silently as they carefully lift Renegade’s body onto the stretcher. The quiet broken only by the hum of voices and the muffled sobs of a few ol’ladies. My mind replays the night’s events on an endless loop. The ambush, the deafening gunfire, and the crushing loss of a brother. Renegade’s last words echo in my mind and the quiet resolve in his eyes as he faded. He’d given, more than anyone expected, and it had cost him everything. Tonight wasn’t just another fight, it was a reminder of the fragile line we walk and what we stand for.
Taking a deep breath, I look over at my men, their faces hard but somber. Though I have my own shit to deal with concerning Ember, my priority now is to lead them through this grief, making sure that Renegade’s memory becomes our strength, not a call to anger. This night’s seen enough bloodshed. And with the text I received from Jameson yesterday, I know we have Royal Bastards business to take care of.
TWENTY-TWO
MAVERICK
It’s been almosta month since I last heard from Ember. She won’t take my calls and every time I check in with Elijah, his answer is always the same: she’s fine, just not ready to talk. I’m doing my best to respect her need for space, but the silence is gnawing at me. Still, life can’t stop just because mine is a shit show right now and Barrister Holdings isn’t going to run itself. I reluctantly put Steel in charge at the compound, knowing I have to be in the office to keep everything on track. I’m also waiting on a call from Jameson tonight about an issue with one of the drug mules, and it looks like we’ll have to handle it directly.
After a quick greeting from Sarah, my assistant, I grab my messages and step into my office, closing the door behind me. That’s when I notice it; a thick, official looking envelope sitting on my desk, my name printed in bold letters across the front. Sitting down, my stomach twists in knots as I pick it up. My hands tremble slightly as I tear it open and each page I flip through sharpens the cold weight settling over me. The wordsPetition for Divorcehit me like a hammer, crushing my heart.
Despite everything that happened, I held onto a thin strand of hope thinking time and space might help her see past the painand find it in her heart to forgive me. But here it is, in black and white… she’s done. Every line in this document feels like a blade, twisting and reminding me just how far we’ve fallen. Ember is choosing to close the door on us, officially closing this chapter on our lives together. My double life has cost me the one woman I’ve ever truly loved and for the first time in years, I’m left feeling lost.
This is no longer about my betrayal or a wound that might heal over time. She’s choosing a future that doesn’t include me and there’s nothing I can do to change it. My eyes fall on a second, smaller manilla envelope beside the divorce papers, Ember’s handwriting on the front. My pulse quickens as I open it, hoping for something, anything to hold on to. But inside is her resignation, effective immediately. It’s written like any ordinary resignation letter, yet there’s a chill in her words as if everything we shared never existed. The final blow nearly pushes me over the edge, my heart sinking as I discover something else tucked inside the envelope… her wedding ring.
She’s not just leaving me, she’s leaving every part of the life we built together. I grip the letter as if holding it might somehow keep a piece of her close, one last time. But the reality hits hard, stealing the breath from my lungs. Ember sees me for the monster I am and her heart has no room left for forgiveness or love. This can’t be the end of our story. I’ve given her space, just like she asked, but now I need to see her, need her to look me in the eyes and tell me it’s truly over.
