Page 57 of True Bastard
A slow, unnerving smile spread across his lips as he met Morpheus’ approving gaze.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Firestride
Stepping over the dead body, as two club brothers rushed over to clean up the mess, I walked right over to Morpheus, dropping a bag at his feet while my eyes never strayed from Kyllian’s. “Henderson paid his debt in full, then took out another loan. Twenty grand this time. Gave him the loan at seventy percent.”
Morpheus sighed. “Fucker can’t repay that, and he knows it. How much time did you give him?”
“One month.”
Sighing, Morpheus bent over, picked up the bag, and threw it at Cobalt. “Henderson’s debt.”
The club’s treasurer nodded, disappearing with the bag.
“Got company coming next week. Gonna need you to get your old lady to play hostess.”
“I’m not his anything,” Kyllian snapped from behind Morpheus, her words a desperate attempt to reclaim control, even as I watched a tremor run through her. She turned and walked away, her shoulders stiff, back ramrod straight, still stubborn and defiant as ever.
Groaning, Morpheus shook his head, his familiar frustration curdling into something deeper, more dangerous. “If you two don’t get your shit together soon, I’m going to lose my fucking temper,” he demanded as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I can handle her,” I said, my voice tight, a stark contrast to the raw defiance Kyllian had just displayed. But Morpheus heard the lie beneath my bravado. He saw the way my gaze flickered away, the subtle clenching of my jaw.
“Really?” Morpheus mocked, the sound harsh in the tense silence. He stepped closer, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Because it looks as if she’s got you by the balls, brother. Bitch can’t even look at you without snarling. Is this what you call control? Or are you just another pussy-whipped fool blinded by... whatever this is?”
I bristled at Morpheus’ words, anger flickering hot beneath my skin. Yet, beneath the bravado, a thread of doubt wound tighter, threatening to unravel the resolve I barely held together. I wanted to protest, to tell Morpheus he was wrong, but the truth lodged stubbornly in my throat, choking any retort. The tension between us hung heavy, charged with things unsaid and the weight of everything that was at stake.
“Just fucking get the bitch on board and fast.” With that, Morpheus stormed off toward his office, slamming the door closed behind him.
Striding over to the bar, Xzibit slid me a beer, saying nothing as Cerberus took a seat next to me.
“He’s right, you know,” Cerberus said, his voice a low growl that rumbled beside me. He took a long swig of his own beer, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hands. “She’s got you by the balls, Firestride. And you know it.”
I slammed my hand on the bar, the rough wood groaning under the impact. “Shut the fuck up, Cerberus. She’s just a hole I want to fuck. When I’m done with her, I’ll cut her loose.” But my words felt hollow even to my own ears. The fire that had once burned so brightly within me had been reduced to a smoldering ember, and Kyllian was the match that had somehow ignited it again. I’d been so focused on breaking her, on assertingmy dominance, that I hadn’t seen the cracks forming in my own armor. She was a complication I could no longer afford, an instability that threatened to unravel everything I wanted to keep hidden.
“You fucking love her,” Cerberus gasped, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Holy fuck. You went and fell in love with the bitch. That’s what the problem is. It’s not that you can’t control her; it’s that you don’t want to control her. You love the bitch just the way she is!” Roaring with laughter, Cerberus got up and slapped me hard on my back. “Fuck me, the bitch neutered you!”
“You have lost your fucking mind, Cerberus,” I snarled, my words ripped from my throat, raw and ragged. My fist slammed down on the bar again, harder this time, the wood groaning in protest.
Love? The word was a foreign concept, a weakness I’d long since purged from my system. Kyllian was a complication, a dangerous distraction, a fire I’d tried to extinguish but had only managed to fuel. She was the crack in my armor, the instability that threatened to bring down the entire edifice of my existence. Cerberus’s laughter, harsh and unyielding, echoed my own self-recrimination. He saw it too—the war raging within me, the battle between the hardened bastard they knew and the man she was uncovering.
And he wasn’t wrong. She had neutered me, stripped me bare, and in doing so, had claimed a piece of my soul I never knew existed.
“She’s got you twisted, brother,” Cerberus said, his smirk widening. He clapped me on the back, the force of the blow jarring but strangely grounding. “Face it, Firestride. You’re in love. And there’s no coming back from that.”
His words, blunt and brutal, landed like a physical blow.
Love? The idea was absurd, dangerous, a betrayal of everything I stood for. But as I met his knowing gaze, a chillingtruth settled in my gut. He was right. I was in love with the bitch, with her fire, her defiance, her utter refusal to be broken. And that made me a liability, a weakness the Brotherhood couldn’t afford. Morpheus would see it, and he would exploit it.
“I don’t love her,” I refuted, the lie unconvincing, even to my own ears. My words felt like a betrayal of the feelings I’d tried so desperately to deny, a desperate attempt to cling to the man I was supposed to be. Cerberus just chuckled, a low, knowing sound that confirmed my deepest fear. He knew I was lying, and he knew I knew it.
Suddenly, the bar seemed colder, the shadows deeper, as if the world was closing in around me. The weight of Cerberus’s words pressed against my chest, making it harder to breathe. I stared into my beer, searching for some kind of answer, but all I saw was my own reflection—haunted, conflicted, and desperately trying to hold on to the remnants of a life that was slipping through my fingers.
Getting up from the bar, I stormed out of the clubhouse.
Fuck this shit.
I wasn’t in love with Kyllian Ward.
