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And in the middle of the raging storm was the image of my son. He was waiting for me. He was safe, but for how long?
I pushed him out of my mind as Dornan pulled me from his motorcycle, placed his hand into the small of my back and propelled me along the path that led to the front door of Emilio’s mansion. It wouldn’t do me any good, thinking about Luis when I was about to enter the lion’s den. I needed strength, not weakness.
I needed cunning, not despair.
‘Are you ready?’ Dornan asked me, and I plastered on my fake smile. I let the mask fall into place and steeled myself for the biggest act of my life. The lie. I love you. When really, I wanted to burn this place to the ground with Dornan and his father inside. Lindsay’s words played on repeat in my head, a soothing chant, a reassurance that this was all going to be blown up soon.
‘I’m ready,’ I murmured, leaning into him.
He liked that. It seemed to make him proud as he looked me up and down, from my throbbing finger marked with his brand, to my eyes, covered expertly with layers of heavy make-up to hide the marks. The scarf around my neck, to conceal the bruises he’d raged upon my skin. I was beaten and broken, but in that moment, all I felt was impatience. I wasn’t afraid. I was just waiting. The FBI was coming for us. Lindsay Price was going to make sure Emilio and Dornan were punished for their sins.
I just had to get to John and let him know what had transpired before he was punished, too.
* * *
It was a lavish party, to say the least. Every Gypsy Brother seemed to be in attendance, as well as at least half of the children fathered by the club members. I caught John’s eye as Dornan and I walked into the room to applause and cheers, but he looked away. It didn’t matter; what could I communicate to him in a crowd of Gypsy Brothers and cartel members who would murder us if they knew the truth? I had to find a way to get to him. But I had to be patient. Get Dornan hammered, break away and hope John came looking for me. I knew he’d be dying to get me alone, if only to demand an explanation as to why the fuck Dornan and I were now married.
The minutes dragged on. It was almost like an out-of-body experience – I was there, but I wasn’t. Somebody had made a wedding cake, but instead of a bride and groom on top, there were two tacky motorcycle helmets. I tried not to throw up in my mouth when I saw that. I spoke to so many people I’d never even met, and it was strange, going from being the girl hidden away and not talked about, to the girl Dornan suddenly wanted to parade around like a prized head of cattle. He kept worrying, too. Kept taking me aside and touching my neck and asking if I was all right, until I snapped at him and told him to relax and quit reminding me of what he’d done. He largely ignored me after that, which was a blessed relief.
John, I screamed inside my head. I need you. Where are you? I had to warn him before Lindsay and the FBI moved in, and closed off our only hope of getting out of this alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DORNAN
Dornan left Mariana with Jase and Juliette and approached John. He’d been planning this moment since John’s fist had connected with his face a few nights earlier. When he’d dared to question Dornan in front of their club. You didn’t question a brother. Ever.
John needed to be displaced.
‘Congratulations,’ John said, looking anything but congratulatory.
Dornan could empathise. He’d just gotten rid of his own ball-and-chain in the form of divorcing Celia, and John was still stuck with that whore Caroline, who was currently harassing a poor young waitress for more champagne.
‘Thanks, Johnny Boy,’ Dornan said, slapping John on the arm. He hadn’t used that name for his best friend in a long time. He didn’t pause before he delivered his next line.
‘Boys are waiting in the garage,’ he said. ‘We’re voting. Now.’
John’s eyes seemed to cloud over momentarily when he heard the words. We’re voting. John didn’t ask what they were voting on. Something told Dornan he already knew.
John quickly regained his composure, passing Dornan as he made his way to the large garage at the other end of the house. Dornan followed, watching the large, red and black Gypsy Brothers patch that sat in the middle of John’s back. Everyone else had black and white patches. Only the president got red.
They’d have to get someone to unravel all that thread. Dornan might be taking the patch, but he’d never take the jacket off a brother’s back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
JOHN
The vote for prez went in Dornan’s favour. Overwhelmingly.
John understood. It was like a chain reaction. He stared at the faces of his brothers in arms as they sat around a makeshift table and cast their votes for the Gypsy Brothers presidency, men he would have laid down his life for – many that he actually had risked his life to protect. Yet, one by one, they voted against him. They were afraid, John realised, about halfway through the proceedings. Not Dornan’s sons, of course – the board was half made up of people somehow related to Dornan by marriage or blood, so it wasn’t surprising that his coup was so successful.
What was surprising was that John didn’t care. He just couldn’t muster a single fuck about what was happening. No, instead a nervous buzz began in the pit of his stomach and spread through his body. At first he didn’t understand what it was, and then he could have laughed when he figured it out.
He was excited. He was thrilled. He was getting out.
Then he remembered that Dornan and Mariana were married, and his brief elation was tempered by rage.
John sat back and watched as Dornan was sworn in as president. That buzz became an angry scream in his ears, as he imagined Mariana having to say the words ‘I do’ to this motherfucker. That was the sole reason for his violent need to kill Dornan in that moment. If it were just a matter of being usurped by the Gypsy Brothers, he would have gotten up on the table and done the fucking moonwalk.
