“And where is Reaper?”
His question hung heavy, a dark cloud threatening to break me.
Reaper. The president of the Golden Skulls. Jackson’s president. Brother. A man he admired and looked up to.
My gut twisted.
“I’m not sure.” My lie felt flimsy, a thin shield against an impending storm. “The last time I saw him, he was in California.” It was a half-truth, a desperate attempt to buy time, to protect him from the hungry gaze of Beast.
Beast tsked, a sound of pure disdain, shaking his head as Zephyr and the others began their chillingly casual disrobing. “Not good enough, Karlyn.” His words landed like blows.Not good enough.The crushing weight of that failure pressed down on me.
I had failed Jackson.
Failed Reaper.
I had failed myself.
“I heard someone mention Oklahoma.” The words tumbled out of me, a desperate, shameful whisper. My own moral compass spun wildly as my stomach churned with guilt.
Beast’s smile bloomed, slow and predatory, as he rose to his feet. He walked over to Zephyr, their heads bent close as Beast whispered something in his ear. Zephyr’s answering grin was as chilling as Beast’s, the unbuckling of his belt a stark punctuation mark to the dawning horror in my chest.
“Goodbye, Karlyn, and thank you,” Beast said, his eyes glinting with triumph as he turned and walked to the door.
“WAIT!” The scream tore from my throat, raw and ragged. I felt burning shame for my pathetic plea. “You said you wouldn’t do anything if I told you what you wanted to know!”
It was a pathetic, self-deceiving argument, and I knew it the moment it left my lips.
Beast slowly turned, his eyes hardening into slits that promised only pain. A malevolent grin stretched across his face, a mask of pure cruelty. “I lied.”
The finality of it crashed over me, a wave of despair and regret so profound it threatened to drown me.
I had made the wrong choice.
I had failed them.
And now I would be punished for my sins.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Navigator
Silver Shadows’ clubhouse...
Brothers scrambled for the exit as word spread that Maureen was in labor, each frantic to get to the hospital. Maureen. One of us. A sister. More importantly, Dec’s wife. Kin to King. Family. As I gathered my laptop, my phone vibrated, a jarring buzz against my thigh. Reaching for it, I scowled, the frustration a raw itch under my skin. “What the fuck does he want now?”
“Who is it?” Sypher asked, his own movements efficient as he unplugged his laptop, already geared for the hospital.
Connecting the call, I grumbled, the words thick with irritation, “Not a good time, old man.”
“The Death Dogs have Karlyn!” My father’s voice, a thunderclap, ripped through the line. Morpheus barking orders in the background was a chilling confirmation. Quickly, I looked up, a sharp snap of my fingers halting Sypher in his tracks. The need to leave, to be there for Maureen, evaporated with a sudden, cold dread.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice a low growl as I sank back into a chair, opening my computer once more. Sypher mirrored my action, his brow furrowed. This was a twisted kind of confirmation—the threat to Karlyn, the one person who made Jackson... human. The thought of her in their clutches sent a tremor through me, a violation of something sacred.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure, boy!” Cerberus roared, the sheer force of his anger vibrating through the phone. “Find her. Call in whomever you have to. Morpheus wants her found. NOW!”
The line went dead. A heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the frantic beat of my own heart. This was a choice already being made for me. To abandon Maureen, for Karlyn. But Karlyn wasn’t just any woman. She was Jackson’s soul. To risk Jackson’s stability, his already precarious grip on reality, by letting Karlyn be taken? The betrayal of a sister, of family, gnawed at me.
Yet, the thought of Jackson’s unraveling was a horror all of its own.
