Page 37 of Secret Betrayals
I’m already moving.
Sprinting through the yard behind the clubhouse like my body’s got a mind of its own. I stop behind the building, breathing, trying to pull myself together. I can’t lose my shit. Not yet. Not in front of everyone. Not until Iknow.
I’m VP. That means something. I have to hold the line until Talon can.
Heather’s still planted where she was, squawking at one of the other ol’ ladies. Nitro moved closer to the center of the crowd, scanning for me. My phone’s still glued to my ear, but I only catch pieces of what Nurse Carter is saying—” multiple injuries,” “crash,” “blood loss”—all of it just static and fire in my brain.
“All I want to know,” I grind out, voice low and dangerous, “is if he’s alive.”
Everything around me stills.
Even the goddamn wind.
Every set of eyes snaps to me. Their weight digs into my spine, but I don’t flinch. I don’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not here. Not now.
“Sir… what I can tell you is what I’ve already said,” she replies, clipped, like she’s annoyed. “His injuries are serious. He’s in surgery. He drove himself into the ER parking lot and crashed. Sustained injuries prior.”
I pull the phone from my ear, staring at it like it’s mocking me.
“FUCK!”
My roar echoes across the yard.
Everything freezes.
Kids stop mid-step. Music dies. Conversations halt. Even Heather shuts the fuck up for once.
I press my free hand to my forehead, staring at the sky like it might have the answers I don’t. I can’t let her keep talking. I already heard too much. Not enough.
I cut her off. “We’re coming. That’s all you need to know.”
I hang up.
Marching straight back into the yard, I plant myself next to Nitro, near Heather. The club’s core gathers around—brothers, ol’ ladies, people I trust with blood and bone. They can see it in my face.
This ain’t a drill.
“LISTEN UP!”
My voice slices through the crowd like a goddamn blade. Everyone turns. Even those who were pretending not to eavesdrop.
“I don’t have all the details yet,” I say, scanning faces. “But Prez was in an accident. He’s at Mercy. He’s in surgery.”
I gesture widely. “Shut this shit down.Now.”
They move fast.
My words are law at that moment, and they treat them like gospel. The party breaks up in a flash. Non-club members hustle to get their shit together and off the property. Brothers bark orders, pulling vehicles around. The yard empties like a kicked anthill.
I stand there in the center of the chaos, barely holding it together. Every second that ticks by sends another pulse of dread through me.
Why the fuck was he alone?
Why didn’t he call?
Why didn’t he fucking tell anyone where he was going?
Heather’s trying to talk to me. Something about going to the hospital. Something about “what happened” and “why didn’t someone tell her, call her?” I tune her out. I can’t hear her over the buzzing in my ears.
