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KING
Groaning, I watch as my father, his men, and Atomic free my woman. My father picks her up and carries her out of the metal building. I am fucking helpless—worthless as I watch the whole thing play out.
I don’t know what to do.
I’m stuck where I am, the pain too excruciating to move. Atomic makes his way over to me, crouching down as he looks into my eyes.
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he murmurs.
“I feel like I am,” I confess. He dips his chin in a single nod. “I’m pissed the fuck off at you,” I announce.
He watches me for a moment in silence, then dips his chin. “You might be, but this is my club, and I wasn’t willing to risk so many people’s lives. I know they have numbers. I know they have firepower. I know they are fucking crazy.”
His words don’t mean shit to me. “That’s not what this club is about. Shawn is my old lady. You were obligated to protect her.”
Atomic shakes his head. “Her own father had her, King. What did you want me to do? My hands were tied. I tried to have a meet with him. He said she was already spoken for.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but feel complete disgust. This is bullshit. What he’s telling me is bullshit, and he knows it, but I’m in far too much pain to argue with him right now. What I do know is that he better come up with a much better excuse than what he’s giving me by the time I gain my strength back.
He stands and takes a step backward. “I wish I could just go and do whatever the fuck I want to do, brother. I would have come here and done all of this in the beginning. But politics.”
“Bullshit,” I snap.
“There’s already going to be a pile of shit I’m going to have to sift through for this. Trust me when I tell you that it is not as easy as it seems.”
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the wall and let out a sigh before everything goes dark. I’m not sure who picks me up, but I let out a hiss when they do. There’s one at my back and one at my feet. They carry me toward the bed of a pickup and lay me down in the back.
Then I hear it.
An explosion.
Forcing myself to push my torso up so I can see over the side of the pickup truck, I watch the clubhouse burst into flames. I don’t know what the fuck they used to make that brick catch on fire like it’s kindling, but I smile at the sight.
Then, there’s a second explosion, and I shift my attention in that direction. The metal shop explodes. It’s with such force that I can feel the heat on my face. It’s fucking beautiful. I can’t stop staring at the flames.
Then the men jump into the truck, start the engine, and we leave. Lying back down, I let out a heavy sigh. I don’t know if anyone was hiding in any of those buildings, but they’re gone now. Shade is gone now. He can’t hurt Shawn any longer. He can’t threaten a war. He can’t do shit because the fucker is no longer breathing.
Something is wrong. My incision hurts so badly, but it’s not just that. I suddenly feel cold. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and that darkness consumes me all over again. Then there is nothingness.
Complete and total nothingness.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
SHAWN
Elvis’s father stares at me in silence for a long moment, then his lips curve up into a small smile. “Never told you my name, darlin’,” he says, his voice an odd combination of rough and soft all at the same time.
I open my mouth to tell him that his name would probably be important to me if I knew where Elvis was and if I was assured that he was safe. But I don’t say anything because I’m so nervous, so scared, so downright terrified that I just stare at him.
“Name’s Nash,” he says. “Nash Stanley.”
I blink a few times, then nod my head. “I’m Shawn Cotton,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure it’s a moot point since he likely knows exactly what my name is.
“Elvis is hurt,” he says. “Reason it took him a few days to get to you was he was in the hospital. He’d been stabbed.”
I’m not sure I heard him correctly. Stabbed. The single word plays on a loop as I stare into his eyes, waiting for something else. He gives me that something else next, and I wish I hadn’t been waiting for anything at all because I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want there to be anything else. I don’t even want there to have been a stabbing.
