Page 24 of Total Carnage
"Escape again, and the consequences won't just be a few days in a locked room." His voice slithered through the air, his words cold as the steel of a knife pressed against skin. He stood there in that expensive suit, looking every bit the politician he was outside these walls while radiating an aura of menace that no amount of dry cleaning could ever wash out.
"I'm not afraid of you," I said simply, boring into him with my eyes.
"Brave words from someone who has no idea what she's dealing with." He leaned closer, invading my space as if he owned it. "You think this is some game? That you could flit around with your biker boyfriend without repercussions?"
Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring into action, flee or fight, whatever it took. But I stayed put, my fists clenching at my sides. "Go to hell, Dad."
"Raven," he said, my name a poisoned barb, "if you try to leave again, it won't just be you who pays the price. It’ll be every fucking biker in this country."
"Whatever you're planning, forget it," I spat back. "I won't let you control me."
He straightened, a smirk playing on his lips that didn't quite reach those soulless eyes. "We'll see about that."
“Who is it?” I asked. “The Hell’s Justice member coming for you?”
The veins in Dad’s neck bulged with anger. His left eye twitched. I was so far under his skin that I was part of him. “How the fuck did you know that?” He lost every sign of being a politician. “You went through my office when you escaped.”
I nodded. There was no sense in denying it. “Who is it?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “He’ll end up like all the rest. You should really mind your own business, Raven. Even as an ex-president, I can’t stop the Deep State from harming you.”
As he turned and walked away, his steps measured and assured, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Each word he'd uttered was etched into my mind, a grim reminder of the stakes at play. My resolve hardened, even as I acknowledged the quiver of dread that threatened to undo me.
"Vin, I'll find a way back to you even if in death," I whispered to the empty room. The promise was fragile, like a shard of glass ready to shatter. But it was all I had—the one flickering light in the darkness that was my life under my father’s roof.
The door clicked shut with an ominous finality, a soft snick that resonated like the gavel of my fate sealing shut. I watched him go, the man who gave me life and then strangled it with silken cords of power and politics. The bastard didn't look back, not once. He knew I'd be watching, counting the steps he took away from me, each one a tiny heartbeat pushing me closer to the edge.
In the thick silence that draped the room, I could practically hear the tension hum, a live wire of unspoken threats and fury. My jaw clenched as I forced myself to breathe, to think past the fear that wanted to kneecap me. I wasn't going to let the old man's words pin me down. No, I was going to use them to fuel the fire, the blaze that would burn through these walls and lead me back to freedom.
I kicked off the boots and peeled off the day's armor. Tomorrow, I'd need every ounce of cunning and courage. But tonight, I'd allow myself this small retreat, the quiet before the storm. With Vin's name on my lips and rebellion sparking in my soul, I laid down, letting the dark swallow me whole.
Tomorrow, I'd rise. Tomorrow, the world would know that Raven Stansfield was no one's captive—not anymore.
Vin
The rumble of ancient wisdom rolled into the Royal Bastards clubhouse like a storm cloud, blotting out the chaos of laughter and clinking glasses. Mama Celeste didn't just walk through the door; she swept in with a presence that made the air feel heavy with portent. Heads turned, conversations died, and even the jukebox seemed to hush as if in reverence to the gravity she carried on her slender shoulders.
I was mid-swig when I caught sight of her, the burn of whiskey nothing compared to the sudden tightness gripping my chest. Her amber eyes found mine across the room, locking me in place. Something about that gaze, man—it was like being seen, truly seen, by someone who knew all your secrets and sins but looked at you anyway with a kind of weary understanding. It wasn't just concern etched into the lines of her face; it was determination, fierce as a knife's edge.
"Shit," I said under my breath, setting down my glass with more care than I usually bothered with. The rest of the bastards might as well have been ghosts for all the noise they were making now. Tension strung the silence tight as guitar strings, every brother waiting, watching. They knew, same as I did, that Mama Celeste showing up unannounced meant trouble—trouble with a capital T and probably dressed in black robes and speaking in tongues.
Her braids swayed gently, bones and beads clicking softly as she moved with purpose toward where I stood, frozen like some rookie instead of the hardened president of the Royal Bastards MC Lexington, Kentucky Chapter. My gut churned, instincts screaming that whatever news she brought would be the kind that left scars. And damn it, if I didn't feel the weight of every single one of those sons of bitches looking at me, waiting for me to face what was coming.
"Vin Reed," she said when she finally reached me, her voice low and smooth. "We need to talk."
My response came out gruff, the only kind of shield I had left. "You always bring sunshine and roses, Celeste. What's the word from the other side this time?" I was trying to find any ounce of humor in the situation to make myself feel better, but deep down, I knew better than to expect anything less than a hurricane wrapped in riddles from Mama Celeste.
Mama Celeste's fingers, adorned with rings that had seen more lifetimes than I cared to count, wrapped around my wrist with a grip that said, 'listen up, boy, or you'll wish you had.' Her amber eyes drilled into mine, and I could almost hear the clink of her talismans like a death knell. "Child," she started, her voice steady but laced with something dark and urgent, "the raven soars in darkness toward the abyss, her wings clipped by shadows unseen."
"Speak plain, Celeste," I said, my patience fraying like the ends of my sanity. The clubhouse was too damn quiet; the only sound was the erratic thump of my heart against my ribcage.
"Raven's in danger, Vin," she finally said, her voice dropping an octave. "The kind that creeps silent until it's too late. Watch her close, trust your gut, 'cause what's comin'... it don't play by the rules we know."
Her cryptic bullshit was like trying to catch smoke—impossible to grasp and guaranteed to leave you gasping. Raven was tough as nails, but Trouble didn't care about that. It just took what it wanted. And if Mama Celeste was warning me, it meant this wasn't your garden-variety road rash.
"Damn it, Celeste, you always gotta talk in damn puzzles?" I snapped, frustration boiling over. But there was no anger behind it, just a cold dread settling in my bones. My gaze darted around the room, every set of eyes on us reflecting the same question: What now?
As soon as her grip loosened, my mind kicked into overdrive. Questions raced through my head like bikers on a midnight run—too fast, too many. What did she see? Who would dare come after Raven? And how the hell do I stop something I can't even see coming? I'd fought plenty of battles and shed blood for less, but this... This fear of the unknown clawed at me, tearing through the tough exterior everyone thought was impenetrable. Raven was under my skin, got there without me even realizing, and the thought of anything touching her...
