Page 145 of Peaks and Promises

My nostrils flared and I ground my teeth together. The next generation of Mayhem. The club would go on, with men who’d been raised to live by its law.

But me? I’d always be the guy who lost his own kid because he couldn’t control a fucking woman. Who’d been brought back like a dog and told to heel. And it wasn’t even my fault.

Mayhem should have had my back.

Stryker’s laugh boomed. Asshole. The more I looked at him, the more hatred festered in my gut. It was his fault.

And that was when it hit me. I’d pledged my life to Mayhem, and the club had failed me.

They hadn’t just failed me. They’d humiliated me.

Surging to my feet, I tossed the beer bottle into the fire. Disillusionment washed over me, and for the first time, I finally saw Mayhem for what it was. It wasn’t a brotherhood. It wasn’t freedom. It was a scam. And I’d fallen for it.

Who got ahead? The assholes in charge. And they did it on our backs. Guys like me. We took the fall. We did the time. We risked our asses for them. And what did we get in return? Nothing. Not unless we clawed our way up the ranks and became the assholes in charge ourselves.

I stalked around the guys I’d thought were my brothers. It had all been a lie. And I was fucking done.

Someone called my name, but I ignored them and got on my bike. The engine roared to life, and I took off, heading for the clubhouse.

A headlight in my rearview told me I was being followed. It might have just been someone heading home for the night. But I had a feeling it wasn’t.

I was right.

Back at the clubhouse, before I could get my shit together to leave, Hammer waltzed into my room.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“No. Just felt like crashin’. Been a long day.”

He raised his eyebrows. Didn’t believe me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I shot him a glare. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“Can you fucking drop it? It’s over.”

“You sure about that?”

“You were there. Stryker said so.”

He regarded me for a long moment, looking me up and down. “All right, brother.”

Brother my ass. He’d never been my brother.

I wanted to rip him to pieces, but I shoved my rage down. If I attacked Hammer, I’d never make it out alive.

So I flopped into the threadbare chair next to my bed and lit a cigarette. Nothing going on. Just a guy enjoying a smoke before bed.

Hammer bought it. With a tip of his chin, he left me alone.

I waited. Smoked another. If I wanted to get out unnoticed, I needed to be patient.

It paid off. No one was around when I packed some things and headed out.

The only part of my departure that caused me true pain was abandoning my bike. If I left it, I’d never see it again.

But it was a part of a life I had to leave behind. A life that had always been a lie.