“Oisín is gone,” he says, like he’s testing the words. “Convenient timing.”
My hand tightens on the wheel. “Move.”
“He was always dirty.” Sol leans one forearm on the window frame as if this is just another lesson in another long line of lessons he thinks I still need. “This is proof. The Rogue went back to his people and took what he learned with him. He gave them enough to move, then vanished before the hit. You’re too close to see it.”
It clicks then, that this is how my father works. That everything has to fall into his plan or it gets pushed away. When Mom left, Sol never went after her, not that I know of. I was too young and stupid to remember much but there were tears, no heartbreak, nothing to show that Sol ever loved the woman that birthed me.
“Grace left because of this,” I push out.
His face hardens. “Watch yourself.”
“No. You watched yourself for so long you forgot there are people in the room with you.” I step out of the car and toward him, and the old man in him squares up, but I’m not seven and he’s not the whole world anymore. “Your inability to trust a single person is why she left. Not weakness. Not softness.You. She left because every time she reached for something human, you turned it into a liability and called that strength.”
Sol’s mouth twists. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. I watched her disappear one day at a time while you sat in your office teaching me that needing anyone made me stupid. I watched this club become a fortress full of men who fear you and call it respect because fear is the only thing you know how to keep.” My voice rises, but I don’t pull it back. “You’ll die in that office surrounded by men who obey you, and not one of them will love you enough to grieve anything but the mess you leave behind.”
Sol’s face goes still. Then his eyes go mean in the way mine probably do when I’m looking for the fastest route to blood. “I’m not the one sticking my dick in the enemy and calling it loyalty.”
I catch him by the front of his cut and drive him back against the SUV. Demo makes a strangled sound, but he doesn’t interfere. Sol’s cigar drops somewhere near our boots, embers scattering across the pavement.
“He is myhusband,” I push through clenched teeth, close enough that he can hear every word and feel the restraint under it. “I’m going to retrieve him, and then I’m going to show him exactly how much he’s worth because apparently I should’ve done that before I let him walk out of my office.”
Sol’s hand closes around my wrist. “You’re losing your head over a Ward.”
“No. I’m done letting you tell me the only way to keep my head is to cut out everything under it.”
“You walk into Rogue territory like this, you risk the club.”
“The club is already at risk. Oisín told us that. Oisín saved us time, men, maybe the whole eastern corridor, and you’re standing here calling him dirty because trusting him would mean admitting your entire life is built on a fear you dressed up as wisdom.”
I release him with enough force to shove him back another inch. “If you try to stop me, the handover happens tonight instead of in a few weeks.” I’ve never threatened my father but seeing the flicker of fear in his eyes tells me enough.
Sol’s eyes narrow. “You threatening your president?”
“I’m informing my father that the presidency is the only reason he’s still standing in front of me with all his teeth.” I step back toward the open driver’s door. “Don’t test which one matters less to me right now.”
I get back into the SUV and slam the door. Demo climbs into the passenger seat like he’s trying very hard not to look at me directly and failing. A second vehicle pulls up beside us, and Ash gets out with a rifle case in one hand and a duffel in the other. He’s one of Bricks’ garage men, reliable in the way machines are reliable when maintained properly.
Ash opens the rear door and tosses the duffel inside. “Bricks said you needed a third.”
“Bricks talks too much.”
“He also said to tell you not to die because Tally will make his life unbearable.”
Despite everything, my mouth almost curves. “Get in.”
Ash climbs into the back. Demo twists around to look at the rifle case, then clamps his mouth shut so visibly that Ash gives him a strange look.
I pull from the lot hard enough that the tires spit gravel behind us, driving to where I can only hope Oisín is.
Bleeding, maybe. Hurt, definitely. Afraid, if he has any sense left, and still probably trying to protect the same club he chose over blood because he thinks his body breaking means loyalty failed.
I should’ve answered him.
Fuck, I’m going to get my husband back.
Then I’m going to learn how to fucking speak.
