Page 38 of Monk

“Explain what?” I grabbed her arms, my fingers digging into her skin, and yanked her toward me with a force that made her stumble. “Explain how you fucked another man? Explain how you moved on like I never fucking existed?” Her eyes filled with tears, glistening in the dim light of the barn, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. Not when my entire world was collapsing around me, crumbling into dust and ash. The pain in my chest was suffocating, a white-hot rage mixed with a devastation so profound I could barely breathe. “You fucked another man!” I roared again, my voice cracking with raw emotion as I shook her slightly, my grip tightening around her arms. I knew I should let go, knew I was hurting her, but the betrayal coursing through my veins made it impossible to think clearly. “You let someone else touch you. Let someone else inside you.” The words tasted like poison on my tongue, each syllable a fresh wound tearing through what was left of my sanity.

“Fuck you, John!” she screamed, shoving me hard in the chest.

I stumbled back, shocked by the force of it, by the fury burning in her eyes.

“Fuck you!” she screamed again, her voice breaking. “Like you’ve been celibate! Tell me, how many club whores have youfucked since I’ve been gone? How many women have you buried yourself in trying to forget me?”

Her accusation hit like a slap, but I didn’t back down. “You left me!” I shouted, my voice raw and broken. “You fucking left me, Lina!”

“I did what you told me to do!” she screamed back, tears streaming down her face now. “You told me if anything ever happened to you, I needed to run! I needed to disappear! I thought you were dead, John! I was there! I saw the bodies! I saw the blood!”

“I looked for you!” I roared, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I tore this fucking town apart looking for you!”

“And I mourned you!” she sobbed, her entire body shaking. “I mourned you every single day! But I had to survive! I had to?—”

“By fucking someone else?” I spat, the words venomous. “By letting some other man put his hands on you? His mouth? His cock?”

She slapped me. Hard. The crack echoed through the barn, sharp and final.

I stood there, my cheek stinging, my chest heaving, and stared at her. Her hand was still raised, trembling, her face twisted with grief and rage and something I couldn’t name.

“I hate you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you for coming back. I hate you for...”

But I didn’t let her finish. I couldn’t. I turned and walked away, tucking myself back into my jeans, zipping them up with shaking hands.

“John.”

I didn’t look back. Didn’t stop. I shoved the barn door open and stepped out into the fading sunlight, my vision blurring, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. And that was when I saw her.

The kid.

She was standing a few feet away, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She stared at me, and I stared back. And all I felt was rage. I kept walking, my boots crunching against the gravel, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip my bike’s handlebars. Behind me, I heard Lina scoop the kid up, heard the child’s soft whimper, heard Lina’s soothing murmurs.

“John!” she screamed, her voice cracking.

I threw my leg over the seat, my jaw clenching so tight my teeth ached.

I didn’t look back. Didn’t let myself. I started my bike. The roar of it drowned out everything else. Her voice, the kid’s crying, the sound of my own heart breaking as I revved the throttle hard, the bike vibrating beneath me, and then I peeled away, gravel spraying behind me, the farm disappearing in my rearview mirror.

And I didn’t look back.

Not once.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Monk

The bass thumped through the clubhouse walls like a second heartbeat, rattling the windows and vibrating through the floorboards. Music blared from the speakers. Something heavy and aggressive, all distorted guitars and pounding drums—loud enough to drown out thought.

Which was exactly what I needed.

The main room was packed. Brothers everywhere were drinking, laughing, and shouting over the music. Trigger had Angel in a headlock, both of them grinning like idiots as they wrestled near the pool table. Ashe was doing shots with Judd at one of the tables, slamming the glasses down hard enough to crack. Fifty had a club whore bent over the back of the couch, her skirt hiked up, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked her without a care in the world.

The air was thick with smoke, cigarettes, weed, and something stronger I didn’t want to identify. It mixed with the smell of spilled beer, sweat, and sex, creating a haze that clung to everything.

Chaos.

Beautiful, mindless chaos as I pushed through the crowd, my arm resting over Ruby’s shoulder. She giggled when someone bumped into her, stumbling slightly in her too-high heels.