Not by Karl, but by me. By my arrogance, by my misguided belief that I knew what was best. I had tried to be the shield, but I’d ended up being the sword.
The weight of my own choices pressed down, cold and relentless. I stared at the hospital walls, my mind racing through all the mistakes that had led to this moment. Every second felt like an eternity, each tick of the clock reminding me that some wounds couldn’t be patched with apologies or good intentions.
I’d always believed in second chances, in the power of a sincere apology, but the icy dread coiling in my stomach told me that for Karlyn, I might have used up all mine.
Was this the price of my pride? To lose her trust, and worse—to watch her suffer because I couldn’t bear to admit I was wrong?
I wondered if Karlyn would ever forgive me, or if the distance between us had grown too wide to cross. The air felt heavy, thick with regret and a desperate, gnawing hope tangled together when a gasp had me looking up from where I sat.
I watched as paramedics rolled in fast with a man on the gurney, a paramedic sitting over the man as he pumped his heart. King jumped to his feet and ran. “What the fuck happened?” he shouted, his hands braced on the gurney, halting its progress. Just then, a doctor rushed down the hall and pulled him back as Eros and Romeo strode in.
Scanning the room, Eros looked at me, and I slowly stood as a low hum started buzzing in my ears. Walking over to me, I barely heard the doctor yell at King. All I could concentrate on was Eros and the way he was solemnly staring at me. The way he always looked at me, as if he could see right through the bravado, right into the mess I was.
“Brother.”
Steeling myself, I balled my fist and snarled, a guttural sound that felt alien even to me. “Just fucking tell me.”
I hated sounding like this, like a cornered animal, but the thought of Karlyn, of her hurt, made every ounce of control I possessed crumble.
“The Death Dogs took Karlyn.”
My roar was instant, like the volleying shot at the beginning of a race as I propelled myself forward. Arms grabbed me, trying to hold back the raw, ravage fury that erupted all around me.
Not my Karlyn.
Not again. I gave her my word.
This wasn’t happening. I refused to believe it. She was safe. She had to be because I refused to believe otherwise. But a sliver of the truth, sharp and unwelcome, pierced through the red haze. I had promised to protect her, and I had failed. Spectacularly. Now the only way to save her was to plunge back into the darkness I swore I would leave behind, and become the very thing I’d tried to shield her from. The choice was brutal—a bitter pill I had to swallow. Save Karlyn or salvage the remnants of the person I wanted to be. And as the primal scream tore from my throat, I knew I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d choose Karlyn every single time, no matter the cost to myself.
“Let him go,” a rough, gravelly voice demanded as Poseidon stepped back. Eros and Firestride kept their grips tight as I continued to fight my way free. Through the haze of fury, I vaguely saw King getting in Eros’ face.
“Get your fucking hands off him,” he growled, leaning forward, almost nose to nose when someone shouted, “Eros, enough!”
The second Eros let go, Firestride put his full weight onto my stomach as I tried to break free.
“Jackson!”
I blinked, and my head snapped up to find King glaring down at me in all his fury. The second I looked into his eyes, I knew, felt it in my bones, we were one and the same. That volatile blood, that need for revenge, to scorch and ravage the earth to protect what was ours, was ingrained deep, and all anyone had to do was look in our eyes to see the truth. It was there, within his, just like it was in mine. That cold death buried deep, just waiting to emerge, settled in my gut. The rage... that all-consuming rage that sucked every bit of humanity out of us, choking us until we gave in to its fury. The darkness had consumed him, and now it was staring back at me, demanding I do the same.
“Let’s go.”
Heading for the exit, we rushed out of the hospital to the nearest vehicle. Approaching the club SUV, I climbed into the driver’s side. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, a stark contrast to the steely resolve King radiated as I fought the darkness, knowing one of us needed to think logically, rationally. Every instinct screamed at me to find a safer way, to let cooler heads prevail, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle as my desperation, my need to find Karlyn, eclipsed all reason.
“We need to go back to the clubhouse.”
“They aren’t at the fucking clubhouse,” I growled as I started the vehicle, peeling out of the parking lot, leaving black tar tracks behind me. The raw aggression in my voice felt familiar, as the monster I desperately tried to keep caged woke from its slumber, hungry, thirsty, desperate for blood.
“No, but Nav is. And Sypher will be there too,” King advised, sitting in the passenger seat, his knuckles white to the bone, as he clenched his fist tightly. “There are cameras at Trudy’s. I want to know exactly who the fuck took our women, because those motherfuckers don’t get a bullet in the head like the rest. Those motherfuckers we get to fucking play with.”
I smirked at that.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the lot at the clubhouse, and King was out of the vehicle before it stopped. Slamming the SUV into park, I didn’t bother turning off the ignition as I, too, jumped from the vehicle, racing after my brother as the sound of pipes roared close behind me.
As I ran, I heard Moonshine’s voice in my head, his desperate plea echoing in my mind:Think, Jackson. Don’t let the rage consume you. But the roar of the engines, the primal energy of the brothers, pulled me forward, a reluctant participant in a storm I both feared and, in a dark, twisted corner of my soul, craved.
“NAV!”
“In church, Prez!”
