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The marshal yanks him through the crowd, leaving me alone with the man who thought he loved me. The man who wanted to marry me and brand me with his name.
Standing, I stumble through the crowd toward Toxin and the marshal. “Something pricked his hand. It drew blood when Tank put the magazine back in.”
“Where’s his gun?” Rhage asks appearing at my side.
A security guard comes forward. “It appears as though Tank and Grim’s guns were switched, I’m guessing so the Defiant Men thought the Warriors of Destruction killed their president. It should have started a war, except Grim noticed his gun wasn’t his.”
“If only I’d noticed sooner,” Grim says.
“No, it was supposed to be you, not Tank,” Toxin yells.
Rhage advances toward him, but Marshal Johnny Saint-Mark stands in front of Toxin.
“Out of the way, lawman.”
The marshal draws his gun but holds it pointing down beside his leg. “You know I can’t do that.”
The doors to the venue bust open, and paramedics and police enter. The paramedics go straight to Tank. I follow them and watch as they go through the motions but even, I can tell he’s dead.
“Hang on, brother!” Rhage yells as he stands next to me.
“God, no...” I murmur, my legs rooted to the spot, my heart hammering a frenzied beat.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Tank’s face, contorted in agony. The man who has haunted my every step, claimed ownership of my very soul, has slipped into the void before my eyes.
“Tank?” I whisper, my voice breaking.
I’m numb, frozen in a moment that feels both horrific and surreal. The room spins, voices return, disjointed and distant. I see the terror on the faces around me, mirrored in my own wide, unblinking eyes.
And yet, amidst the horror, there’s a stirring within me, a tiny spark that flickers to life. Freedom. A word that tastes foreign on my tongue, forbidden and intoxicating. With Tank’s last breath, the chains that bound me dissipate into the ether. My captor, my keeper, the omnipresent shadow over my existence is gone.
“Cherry, come on, we need to clear out,” Rhage urges, pulling me away from the scene. But I’m not the same woman I was moments before. I move, but it’s mechanical, automatic, while inside, a new reality dawns.
I’m free.
“Is he...?” someone asks, the question trailing off into uncertainty.
“Dead,” Rhage confirms, his voice a hollow echo. “He’s dead.”
As I step back, my mind races with the implications, the dangers still lurking. Tank’s death may have unshackled me, but it also paints a target on my back. Trust is a luxury I can’t afford, not with the rest of the Defiant Men MC undoubtedly hunting for blood.
But for now, in this single, fleeting heartbeat, I cling to the fragile sense of liberation, knowing it’s a precursor to the storm that’s about to break. Moving out of Rhage’s grasp I stand near Tank’s body which they are putting into a black plastic bag.
Tears stream down my cheeks but not from sadness. Looking around the room, my eyes lock on Elora and I wrap my arms around my body.
“I’m so sorry, Cherry.” Elora pats my arm.
I grip her tightly in a hug and whisper, “I’m free.”
Elora leans back and searches my face. Shock descends over her, but I don’t care. I feel so relieved, I had almost given up hope this day would ever come.
Rhage walks over to us. “Cherry, are you okay?”
“Y-yes.” I sniffle.
“I could have one of the brothers take you to the clubhouse?”
“No.” Rhage looks confused, and I wrap my hand around Elora’s arm. “It’s just... Elora said I could stay with her tonight. There are too many memories back there. I... I need space.”
