Page 13 of Massacre
“August.” Val tried diplomacy as she wiggled herself between me and the Soulless Sinner. “There is a lot you don’t know. It’s complicated. They have a history.”
“The fuck they do.” He glared at the woman, taking a step back. “That’s my daughter in there, and if he thinks he has a claim to her, he’s sorely mistaken. No one is taking her from me. Not him, not you, no one!”
“Everyone needs to calm the fuck down,” King ordered, taking charge of the clusterfuck that had befallen his clubhouse. “Haizley, you and Dante go sit with Amber while the adults figure this shit out. Sypher, get on the phone and tell Reaper what the fuck is going on. Tell him I want to speak with him. You three,” he said, pointing at me, Bane and Val, “church right fucking now.”
“Not going anywhere until I see her.”
“You are not going anywhere near my daughter!” Bane roared as Jingles, Tank, and Ghost held him back.
“Massacre, please. She needs to rest,” Val whispered, trying to play on my compassion.
“What the fuck is she even doing here, Val?”
“It’s a long story.” The woman sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “One I will be more than happy to explain when you’vecalmed down. But if you go in that room right now, all you will do is make things worse.”
The silence that followed Val’s plea was brittle, the kind that threatened to shatter with the next careless word. Muscles flexed; breaths hitched. We were all strung out on nerves and anger, and the thin veneer of control King managed to impose was already fraying.
“Worse?” I scoffed. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Val. She’s been beaten black and blue again. I found her running out of a fucking corn field half naked. How is that keeping her safe?”
“It’s not, and I honestly don’t know what happened. Bane and I only arrived shortly before you did.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Sypher piped up, cupping his hand over the receiver of his cell phone. “None of us know what happened to her. You need to let me and Nav do our thing so we can get you the answers.”
“No.” I rounded on the kid. “You had your motherfucking chance. All of you did. Now, I’m taking over.”
“You are not going near my daughter,” Bane growled.
Looking at the irate Sinner, I smiled. “You mean my wife?”
Bane looked at Val, who hung her head, slowly shaking it, and roared, pushing the men holding him back off him as he stormed past. Moments later, we all heard a loud crash from downstairs, then a motorcycle start up before it roared off into the distance.
Val, her face now masked with fury, walked right over to me and slapped me across the face. “You fucking bastard. You couldn’t let me explain everything to him. He doesn’t know, Massacre. He only just learned about Dante and Amber.”
“That’s not my fucking problem,” I shot back before I, too, stormed down the hallway and out of the clubhouse.
Chapter Four
Amber
I hurt everywhere.
My arms, my legs, even my fingertips—each nerve ending ached as if I’d run a marathon in a rain of fists. I blinked, vision blurred by the sting of tears, or perhaps it was from the memory of what really happened. The ceiling above me was familiar, painted a dull off-white with a jagged crack racing from one corner to the next. Beneath the ache and disorientation thrummed something deeper: fear, not for myself, but for the promise someone had made on my behalf.
I shifted, wincing as fresh pain flared along my ribs. Voices drifted in from the hallway—low, tense, words indistinct, but their tone unmistakable.
I heard someone say my name.
They were arguing about me. About my safety and my place here.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the anxiety.
The harsh overhead light flickered, making the patchwork crack in the ceiling pulse like a heartbeat. I forced myself to focus, to ignore the way pain blossomed and receded with each attempted breath. My mind scrabbled for details: How long had I been out? Was it all a dream? Was it really him after all these years?
A door creaked open.
Footsteps—careful but deliberate—crept closer.
My pulse quickened, pounding in my bruised chest. I tried to push myself upright, but a wave of dizziness forced me still.
