I shake my head, trying to clear it, but the edges of my vision start to darken.
“I’m gonna lower you to the floor, sweetheart,” Skip’s voice says softly, close to my ear. When did he get so close? “We’ll talk about this little habit you’ve got with fainting every time you see me once you’re back on two feet.”
“Don’t worry,” I mumble as he helps me down to the grimy floor. “Normal.”
“I had a feeling,” he chuckles, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other shoves something under it for support. “Don’t move, Eli. I mean it.”
“Going under,” I manage as everything starts to fade.
“Told you he was fucking useless,” Knuckles sneers.
Something soft brushes my cheek…then it’s gone.
The next sound I hear is chaos. Grunts, fists connecting, something heavy crashing to the floor.
Then, nothing.
***Skip***
“You broke my fucking nose,” Knuckles spits as Tank holds me back.
“You’re lucky that’s the only thing I broke,” I snap. “How dare you treat him like that.”
“Do you not see him?” Knuckles sneers, gesturing at the man passed out on the floor. “He can’t even handle a day’s work. He’s useless. He means nothing to this club. Fuck his ass and get rid of him.”
Tank’s arms are iron. That’s why he’s the one holding me while Bones, Maverick, Foster, Max, Spike, and Crusher watch from the sidelines. But the rage in my chest isn’t something even Tank can hold forever. With one hard shove, I break free, and I’m on Knuckles.
“Skip,” Spike says…voice too calm for the moment. “Stop before you kill him.”
His tone of voice hits me like a cold bucket of water. I laugh, half-crazed, half-relieved. Spike isn’t telling me to stop because he doesn’t feel it…he’s pissed too. He’s telling me to stop because you don’t kill your brothers unless they’ve done the club or its members wrong. Not ever.
“Dammit,” Knuckles grunts, clutching his hand. “I think you broke it. How the hell am I supposed to build shit now?” He glares up at me, eyes full of disbelief. “Fuck, Skip. That man means nothing to this club. You don’t even know him, and you attack your brother over him? That’s fucked up, man.”
“Thin…fucking…ice,” I warn.
I stare down at him, chest still heaving. There was a time I would’ve agreed with him…that brothers came first, no matter what. But the look in his eyes now… there’s nothing brotherly left. Hell, there’s nothinghumanleft.
“You really don’t hear yourself, do you?” I ask quietly. “You’ve been different for months, Knucks. Angry. Mean. But tonight…” I shake my head. “That wasn’t just rage. It’s like there’s nothing inside you anymore. No emotion. No hate. No hope. Just… empty.”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even blink. Just stares back with those dead, hollow eyes that make my skin crawl.
Spike steps between us, breaking the moment. “Enough. This shit ends now.”
Knuckles glares once before Tank hauls him up, muttering under his breath as they walk out.
When the room’s finally quiet, Spike looks at me. “You good?”
“No,” I say, voice rough. “Something’s off with him, Spike. Real off. That wasn’t anger. It was the absence of everything else. Like he’s gone, and we’re just talking to what’s left.”
Spike’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. I’ve seen it too. Keep your distance for now. I’ll talk to him.”
I nod, but I don’t believe for a second that talking’s going to fix whatever the hell that was.
When I turn toward Eli, the tension in my shoulders eases just a fraction. He’s still out cold, pale but breathing steadily. I kneel beside him, brushing a finger down his soft cheek.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, sweetheart,” I murmur. “One day here and you’ve already started a war.”
He doesn’t stir, but the faint rise and fall of his chest is enough. For now.
