Page 52 of Seizing Control: Part One

The low-level conversation dies in the wake of my nasty retort.

Complete silence hangs heavy in the bar.

From his seat at the table in the corner, I see Hades regard his son with weary disappointment. The lines etched deep in the dying man’s craggy face seem to deepen as his worried gaze moves between me, Zeke, and Slash. As the quiet becomes oppressive, and all the words I wish I had the fortitude to say turn to ash on my tongue, I pray for a miracle.

What I receive is rejection.

“You know what?” Zeke demands rhetorically. He pulls his cut from the hook he’s hung it on so he could put on his leather jacket and throws it on the floor. “I’m fuckin’ done. With the club. With everything and everyone.” The blood rushing through my veins turns to ice when he looks me directly in the eyes as he declares, “I’m ’specially done with you. For good.”

“Okay.” The walls close in tight and my ears whoosh with my racing pulse, but I have enough fury rippling through me to keep my feet and half-shrug, “I’m not sure how I’ll tell the difference, but I’ll give it a try.”

Zeke’s response is equally as flippant. “You do that.”

Eyes burning with repressed tears, my chin starts to wobble, and I slow down my blinking, so I don’t cry. He grabs his helmet, then takes one step away from me before grinding to a halt. Time stands still as I wait for Zeke to leave me again. His third abandonment will hurt the most because this time, I had a hand in it. I’m not an innocent party. I lashed out in anger. Allowed my ego to goad me into rehashing events that don’t really matter in the scheme of things.

And, for what?

To lose Zeke.

To hurt Slash.

To give my father the crack he needs to worm his way back into the Shamrocks with his evil plans to destroy the legacy of the founding six.

Silence dawns in the main bar.

A ripple of indecision emanates from Zeke.

It matches the waves of ambivalence crashing around Slash.

As my first love delays his departure, the fury-tinged grief that’s infected us all drains from the atmosphere. A brittle sense of renewal builds. In the same second that Slash angles his body toward me, Zeke lifts his booted foot to take a step in my direction. I hold my breath, praying for them to choose me, even though I can’t choose them. My hope is slaughtered when the doors Bebe flounced out of are yanked open and my father walks inside with Joseph Kingsley on his heels.

Protests surge to the tip of my tongue. They disintegrate as the main bar is invaded by more than a dozen heavily armoured officers. After blocking the exit, a few of them attempt to corral the rest of us into the far corner while Dad and Joseph Kingsley crowd around Zeke.

Forced toward the back of the group when the club brothers create a protective ring around the women, I strain to hear what’s being said. I can’t make anything out until Joseph raises his voice to declare in a delighted tone, “Ezekiel Asher Miles, you’re under arrest for the murder of Alexander Joseph Maddison Kingsley.”

Zeke laughs.

Slash urges the brothers forward.

I try to follow them.

“Stay.” Hades bars my passage with his rifle. “Put... Cherub.”

“I need to help... I need to stop him taking the fall for me.”

“Nothin’... you... can do... now,” he wheezes. When I wrap my fingers around the barrel to move it out of my way, Hades breathlessly grumbles, “Step... forward—you’ll... get my... boy...killed.”

The worry in his voice makes me second guess my need to be on the frontline. I force myself to take a second to think, to really observe what’s happening, before I blunder into the middle of things and make them worse. When it becomes clear that I’m not going to fight his order, Hades lowers the antique sniper rifle to the floor. He angles the heavy weapon so that his mobile oxygen tank conceals most of it, then he directs his attention to the standoff between his son and the police.

“Don’t!’ Zeke commands, holding up his hand when Slash beckons the rest of the club to fight. I can’t see much from my position, but what I can see fills me with concern. My first love is too proud to accept his brotherhood’s protection. “Have at it,” my ex-fiancé announces as he turns his back to Joseph and presents him with his wrists. “I’ve got nothin’ better to do today.”

Side-stepping Hades when he attempts to stop me a second time, I shove my way through the heavy bodies to the front of the crowd. It calms me to see that Zeke has pulled his cut back on, even as it chills me to read the surrender in his expression. “Please think about this? You don’t need to do this. Not for me.”

Everyone ignores my plea.

The officer behind Zeke moves to zip-tie his hands together. My first love beckons me over to him with a jerk of his chin, and I immediately follow his direction. I snatch the knife from Toker on my way past, and threaten my father with the business end of the blade when he tries to stop me from getting closer to Zeke.

“Back the fuck off, Dad.” My tone drips with acid as I remind him of our blood ties. “You won’t like what I do if you touch me.”

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