Page 136 of Bonds of Obsession

“Let’s go,” I tell Emmett, training the gun on him where it’s hidden from view. “It’s time for you to give the performance of a lifetime.”

We head out into the dark streets, leaving my men behind as they mount their bikes again. It feels wrong, being separated from them, but I know it’s necessary. Looking in the side mirror, I barely catch a glimpse of their bikes behind us before they hang back, keeping their distance like we planned.

“Why are you doing this?” Emmett asks after we’ve been driving for a few minutes. “Do you really think you’re gonna kill him?”

“Shut up and drive.”

“He’s got resources you don’t even know about. Connections?—”

I press the gun into his ribs. “I said shut up. You lost the right to worry about me when you sold me out.”

“I didn’t want to,” he says, and something in his voice makes me want to punch him. “But he made me an offer I didn’t think I could pass up.”

“An offer?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “A little cash and a safe place to lay your head for a while? How did that work out for you?”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly. You’re a fucking coward who would sell out anyone to save his own skin.” I dig the gun in deeper. “Now focus on driving. And remember to loop around like we discussed. I don’t want anyone following us.”

He falls silent, taking us through the quiet streets. It’s just as well that most of Detroit seems to be asleep, because I don’t think my jittery fucking nerves could take a lot of traffic right now.

“You really love them?” he asks suddenly. “Those three psychos?”

“More than anything,” I tell him, wanting the words to hurt. “They’d die for me. Kill for me. What would you do, Emmett? Besides stab me in the back?”

He doesn’t answer, but his hands tighten on the wheel. Good. Let him feel it. Maybe he’s finally starting to understand exactly what he lost when he betrayed me.

The streets get darker as we head closer to the river. There are fewer streetlights here, and more abandoned buildings. It’s a good spot for a secret meeting. Or a trap.

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, but I keep the gun steady on Emmett.

“Slow down,” I tell him. “There’s no reason to get there early.”

He eases off the gas. “You really think this is gonna work?”

“What I think is that you need to shut your fucking mouth before I put a bullet in you ahead of schedule.”

“I’m just saying?—”

“You’re just saying shit to get in my head,” I snap. “I fucking know how you operate, Emmett. You try to make me doubt myself, time and time again. That’s always been your play, hasn’t it? Making little comments, trying to undermine me?”

He falls silent again, but I can practically hear him thinking. After a minute, he tries a different angle. “Your dad wouldn’t want this for you.”

White hot rage floods through me. “Don’t you dare talk about my father.”

“He wanted better for you than being some biker’s whore?—”

I slam the gun against his temple, hard enough to make him swerve. “One more word about my father and I’ll shoot you right here. Fuck the plan.”

“Alright, alright,” he mutters, straightening the wheel. “You’re as fucking crazy as they are.”

“Consider it one more reason to keep your lying mouth shut while you’re driving.”

We pass the spot where my men will be waiting, hidden in the shadows. My chest aches, wanting them closer, but I know this has to play out exactly right or Ambrose will bolt. Violently.

The river comes into view, and I know we’re almost there. It’s almost time to end this, one way or another.

“Turn here,” I tell him, recognizing the route to the meeting spot. “And Emmett? When this is over, if you’re still breathing, you’d better run far and fast. Because my men won’t forget what you did, and neither will I.”

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