Maybe I'll never see him again.
But as I stir the pot on the stove, listening for the sound of a motorcycle that might mean Cain's return, I hold onto that moment in the parking lot.
Go inside. Now.
He said my name. He told me to go. And when I walked away, I felt something I hadn't felt in years.
Safe.
It was only for a moment.
Only for the time it took me to cross the parking lot and reach the clubhouse door.
But for that brief stretch of seconds, I wasn't afraid.
Wasn't bracing for impact. Wasn't calculating how to minimize damage.
I was just... walking. Like a normal person. Like someone who didn't have to be afraid.
I want to feel that again.
Want to remember what it's like to move through the world without fear. Want to know who I might be if Cain's voice wasn't always in my head, telling me I'm nothing.
The thought is dangerous. Treacherous.
If Cain knew what I was thinking—if he had any idea that another man made me feel safe, even for a second—he wouldkillme. I'm not exaggerating.
I'm not being dramatic.
He would put his hands around my throat, and this time, he wouldn't stop.
So I bury it.
Push it down deep where no one can see it.
Lock it away with all the other things I can't afford to feel.
But it's there.
A tiny spark in the darkness.
The memory of cold blue eyes that saw everything and didn't look away.
CHAPTER 4
Leviathan
Church is silent.
Twelve men sit around the table, their eyes on me.
Some are curious. Some are wary. A few look pissed.
They've heard the rumors by now—word travels fast in a club this size—but rumors aren't the same as confirmation.
They're waiting for me to explain.
I don't owe them an explanation. I'm the President. My word is law.
