My fingers grip the wheel until my knuckles ache. I’m fucking choking. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I was supposed towantthis. Anticipate it, not dread it. But here I am, feeling like I’m running full-speed toward my own fucking death.
Still — I have to go through with it. The past demands it. My darkness needs it. She has to pay for her lies, for the life she took from me, for the pain she caused.
And it was always going to end here, at the clubhouse. Among the same people who once cheered for us. The same people who hate her now. They once welcomed her with open arms, and it’s only fair that she gets to face them too before it all ends.
When we pull through the gates, I swear I taste blood. We park, the engine dies, and for a second, the quiet in the cage is deafening.
We both get out, but I stop. I stay frozen next to her, like gravity is keeping me chained to the spot.
I inhale slow, deep. Trying to steady the chaos inside me.
She turns to me, brows drawn tight. There’s worry in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
No!— my mind screams, but I just nod instead. “I’m good.”
She bites her bottom lip, looks down, then back up at me. “Will…” She swallows. “Will Bones hurt me?”
My hand finds the back of her neck before I even think about it. I pull her close, and rest my forehead against hers. Maybe for the last time.
“No, adorable,” I murmur. “None of my brothers will hurt you.” Because I will.
“Okay,” she breathes, barely audible.
She feels the shift in my mood, the darkness rising, but she doesn’t know what to do. She’s so tangled up in me now, that she just goes with what I say. Probably tells herself my mood shift is because of this visit.
In the end, she just follows. Because she belongs to me.
Even if her instincts are probably screaming, telling her to run, she stays. That’s what I turned her into.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pull her into my side, and walk toward the clubhouse.
The second we cross through the doors, the world stops. The music is loud but the silence is louder. Every pair of eyes snaps to us, laser-focused. Unblinking.
I don’t look at any of them. Can’t.
Instead of heading where I should, I steer us toward the bar like I’m on autopilot — my body’s moving but my soul stayed behind.
Adora shivers. She feels it too. The weight of disbelief thick in the air. The tension. The curiosity. The hate.
Out of the corner of my eye, Bones enters my field of vision. Eyes narrowed, fury bleeding from every inch of him. He’s never looked at me like that, not even in the worst of it.
I shake my head once, silently asking for a delay.
He clenches his jaw, lifts his chin, and his glare darkens, but he doesn’t move. He’ll wait. For now.
We sit at the bar like we’ve done this a thousand times before, like there isn’t outrage and hate and a million silent questions floating in the air around us.
“Your usual, Ghost.” Grizz slides the beer to me instantly, then turns to her. “What can I get you?”
His tone is as cold as a block of ice. Understandably so. He was there for the fallout. He saw the aftermath, saw it all— what happened and what was left of me.
Just like half the men watching us now.
“Same,” Adora says softly, voice barely audible. She nods toward my bottle.
Grizz doesn’t say another word, he just gives her the beer and walks away.
