“She fell in love!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “She fell in love with a man who’s grieving and broken and trying to find his way back to the light. She gave herself to him because she wanted to, because she chose him, because for the first time in her life she felt something real. And you punished her for it.”
Zeke’s face was wet now, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. “I didn’t want her to get hurt.”
“Well, congratulations. You hurt her worse than Malachi ever could.” I let go of his arm and stepped back, suddenly exhausted. “You know what the worst part is? She would have forgiven him if he had walked away. She would have understood if he chose the club over her. But you? Her own brother? Calling her a whore in front of her family?” I shook my head. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive you for that.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Zeke stood there, his face ravaged by guilt and grief, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides. Behind us, I could hear the faint sounds of Charity crying on the porch, Joy’s soft voice trying to comfort her.
“What do I do?” Zeke asked finally, his voice raw. “How do I fix this?”
“I don’t know if you can.” I looked up at Hope’s bedroom window, where the curtains were drawn tight against the morning sun. “She’s in there right now, scrubbing her skin raw, trying to wash him off. Trying to convince herself that she’s not like Shirley. That she’s not dirty or used or worthless. And every time she closes her eyes, she’s going to hear your voice calling her a club whore.”
Zeke made a sound like a wounded animal, his hand coming up to cover his face.
“You want to protect her?” I asked quietly. “Then you start by understanding what you just took from her. You took her sense of safety. Her trust in family. Her belief that she was worth more than what men could take from her body.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “And you did it in front of her sisters. The people she’s supposed to be able to count on no matter what.”
“I’m sorry.” Zeke’s voice was muffled behind his hand. “God, Faith, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell her.” I turned toward the house, then stopped. “But not today. Today, you let her be. You let her process what you did. And you figure out how the hell you’re going to make this right.”
“What about Slaughter?” Zeke asked, his voice steadier now. “Reaper and Ghost are on their way. They’ll be here in a few hours.”
“What about him?”
“The Golden Line-Up—”
“Is between him and the club.” I met Zeke’s eyes, my voice hard. “But if you think for one second that Hope is going to stand by and let you beat that man to death, you’re delusional. She loves him, Zeke. And after what you just did to her, she’s going to fight for him harder than she’s ever fought for anything in her life.”
Zeke’s expression shifted, something like fear flickering across his face. “She can’t interfere with club business.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made it personal.” I started walking toward the house, then paused on the bottom step. “You know what Hope told me once? She said the reason she never dated MC guys was because she didn’t want to be like Mom. Always waiting for a man who would never choose her over the club.”
“Faith—”
“Chapman chose her, Zeke. He knew the rules. He knew what it would cost him. And he chose her anyway.” I looked back at my brother, seeing him clearly for the first time in years. Not the protective brother, not the badass intel officer, but a scared man who had just destroyed something precious because he couldn’t control his own fear. “That’s more than any man ever did for Shirley. And if you can’t see the difference, then you’re more lost than I thought.”
I climbed the porch steps, past Charity and Joy, who were huddled together on the swing, their faces pale and tear-streaked. Joan stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
“Is he okay?” she asked quietly.
“No.” I glanced back at Zeke, who was still standing in the driveway, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking. “But he will be. Eventually.”
“And Hope?”
I thought about my sister upstairs, alone in the bathroom, trying to scrub away the shame that Zeke had poured over her like acid. Thought about the way she looked at Zeke when he called her a whore, like he had destroyed her entire world. Thought about the way she had run past us on the porch, her face crumpled with devastation.
“I don’t know,” I muttered honestly. “But I’m going to make sure she knows she’s not alone.”
Joan nodded, stepping aside to let me pass. “Balthazar called. He will be here by noon.”
“Good.” I paused in the doorway, looking back at the driveway where Zeke was finally moving, walking slowly toward his motorcycle. “Maybe he can talk some sense into Zeke’s thick skull.”
“And if he can’t?”
I thought about Hope’s face when she whispered that she loved Chapman. Thought about the way she claimed him in front of everyone at the Diamondback clubhouse. Thought about the strength it had taken for her to give herself to a man who called her by another woman’s name.
“Then Hope will,” I said quietly. “Because that’s who she is. She sees the good in people, even when they can’t see it in themselves. Even when they don’t deserve it.”
I walked inside and climbed the stairs to Hope’s room. The bathroom door was still locked, but I could hear the shower running, could hear the faint sound of her crying beneath the spray as I sat down on the floor outside the door, my back against the wall, and waited. Because that was what family did. We waited. We listened. We held each other when the world fell apart. And when Hope finally emerged, I would be there. Just like I had always been. Just like I always would be. Just like she was there for me when I needed her most.
