Page 35 of Festive

Kenna bursts into tears as Rebel closes the door, her sobs tearing at my heart. When the car starts moving, she bangs on the window, her small fists pounding as she cries out, “Daaadddy!” I wave, feeling pieces of my soul break with each sob, watching the cab pull out of the clubhouse gates toward the airport. She scrambles around to the back window, her face flushed and streaked with tears, eyes fixed on me. I keep waving, helpless, as her screams fill the air, lingering long after the car turns the corner and disappears from sight. Even then, I swear I can still hear her cries echoing down the street.

I hunch over, gripping my knees as emotion crashes over me, my eyes stinging with tears. I fight to keep it together—not just for myself, but for the club.

Suddenly, a hand is on my back. “I’m so sorry, brother,” Zero states. I can’t help scrubbing at my face.

“It was never meant to be like this,” I murmur.

Zero exhales. “I know, but part of being a president is being put to the test, and right now, you’re being tested. You have to show your strength. You can’t fall apart. The guys will see it as a weakness. Take the night, drink, fight me again if you have to… do whatever you need to get the emotions out of your system. Then tomorrow, it’s back to business.”

I nod, taking a moment to steady myself, pulling every thread of control back into place. I just lost my entire family in one swift moment—they drove out, and I let them go because I have to stay here, being the kind of president who puts the club first. Being born into MC presidential royalty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I used to think that being a Walker meant living the highest highs, a life of comfort, security, and knowing everyone has your back.

But I forgot it also comes with the crushing lows.

The sacrifices.

That with loving people means losing them.

That being at the top means youcan’twalk away.

One way or another, you always lose something—whether it’s the people you love or pieces of yourself along the way. If this is how I lose them, maybe it’s better than watching an enemy take them down in some damn war.

Maybe this is for the best.

Maybe I’m just meant to be fucking alone.

Maybe it’s what I deserve?

Standing tall, I straighten out my cut and clear my clogged throat. “Where do we stand with the shipments?”

Zero slaps my back with a sympathetic smile. “Let’s go get a drink, and I can tell you all about it.”

Exhaling, I dip my chin. “I could do with a damn drink. It was a low act punching you. You caught me at the wrong time, and I took that shit out on you and Wraith. It was a dick move. I let my emotions get on top of me. I apologize, brother.”

Zero snorts out a laugh.“You think I care about that? Fuck, brother, I haven’t been in a decent fight since you stole my president’s chair. Thanks for giving me a chance to feel like a damn biker again. Cherry would have a fit if I went searching for trouble.” He laughs. “You made my damn day.”

I shake my head. “Fucking liar! But thanks anyway.”

He slaps my back. “All right, let’s get fucked up and talk business.”

“Sounds fucking perfect to me.”

CHAPTER TEN

REBEL

The Next Day

The cab pulls into the driveway of the apartments across from the Brothers by Blood MC clubhouse, and I notice Shotgun and Avery waiting for us. No one else from the clubhouse is there, though, and I have to admit, I’m happy about that.

I didn’t want a big fanfare and everyone asking questions, though I know Shotgun is going to be straight on me like a bull at a gate.

The car stops, and Shotgun yanks open the back door.

Kenna leaps out into his arms. “Pops,” she coos, and he chuckles, cuddling into her.

“Hey, my favorite girl, did you enjoy your plane ride?” Shotgun asks while I smile at him, unbuckling Kinzley from her booster seat.

“The plane was big, but Mama let me watch the cartoons on the screen. It was fun.”

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