“And that’s good news?” Storm chuckled.
Torment winked, fixing Storm with a knowing look. “She’s got me rethinking every dirty, delicious bad habit I can think of.”
A ripple of laughter circled the table, easing the tension that had been coiling in the air since the call went out for the missing members. Even Montana allowed himself a smirk, although he tried unsuccessfully to hide it when the alarms went off down in the mailroom.
Jumping to their feet, the brothers rushed out of the boardroom, heading downstairs. Following as fast as I could, I finally made it into the mailroom to hear Montana cursing up a fucking storm as he slammed his fist into the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!”
Seeing Payne sitting on the floor, his back against the wall with a gunshot to his shoulder, I walked over and kneeled beside him, putting pressure on his wound.
Breathing heavily, he muttered, “It was Dakota. One minute I was cleaning up, the next he was here and shot me. He took the bitch. She’s gone.”
“FUCK!” Montana roared.
“The bullet went through your shoulder. I just need to clean the wound and patch it up. You’ll be fine,” I said, sitting on my ass, short of breath as Montana paced the mailroom.
“We’re screwed,” he muttered mostly to himself as we all watched the volatile man. “I can’t explain this. No one has ever escaped the mailroom before. It’s impossible.”
“She didn’t exactly escape, Montana,” Mercy jumped in. “Your fucking brother let her out.”
“How the hell did he even get in here?” Storm asked.
Ignoring everyone, I looked at my best friend and whispered, “Montana.” The second he spun around and looked me in the eyes, I knew what he was going to say before he even spoke the words.
Closing my eyes, I slowly shook my head. “I’m done.”
“August,” he whispered, taking a step toward me.
Carefully getting to my feet, I swallowed the pain of torture I’d suffered at the hands of the Brotherhood and simply said, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I gave it twenty years.”
“August, it’s just until we find her again.”
Narrowing my eyes, I sneered, “What? Another twenty fucking years? I can’t do this anymore, Montana. I’m done. Your father, this club, your fucking brother, and that cunt have taken everything from me. EVERYTHING! For what? That’s what I don’t know. That’s the one fucking mystery I could never solve. They’ve ruined any chance I had at happiness for their own perverse greed and fulfillment.”
My voice choked on the words, each syllable a testament to the shattered pieces of my existence. Twenty years of living a half-life, a ghost haunted by memories I couldn’t escape. Dakota Stone. Meredith Doherty. George Stone. Their names were etched into my soul like brands, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed me. I’d been manipulated,drugged, forced into a life I never wanted, all for their perverse pleasure. And for what? I still didn’t have the answer. All I knew was that it had cost me everything: my freedom, my peace, and, most importantly, Diana.
“August, don’t do this,” Montana pleaded, his voice rough with desperation. “We need you. I need you.” The misery in his eyes mirrored the turmoil in my own heart. He was my brother, my confidant, the one person who’d stood by me through it all. But the pain had become a tangible thing, a crushing weight that I could no longer carry. The thought of facing another twenty years, another betrayal, another fight against shadows that seemed to multiply with every step, was simply too much.
“You don’t understand,” I whispered, my gaze fixed on the bloodstain spreading on Payne’s shirt. “This is it. I’m out. I can’t sacrifice any more. I’ve lost too much. I’m done. I’m so fucking done.”
My words hung in the air, heavy with finality.
The weight of my decision settled on me like a shroud. Montana’s desperate plea echoed in my ears, but the twenty years of being a pawn in this twisted game had worn me down to the bone. I’d fought for Diana, I’d endured the unimaginable for her, and now that she was within reach, the thought of being dragged back into the abyss, another twenty years of this fucked-up war, was more than I could bear. It wasn’t about not wanting to fight; it was about finally wanting to live.
I kept walking, my gaze fixed on the stained concrete, each step a silent renunciation of the life I’d been forced to lead. The cheers of my brothers, the desperate calls for me to stop, all faded into the background, replaced by the phantom scent of Diana’s perfume, a beacon in the encroaching darkness. I saw her face, not the one I remembered from twenty years ago, but the one I’d conjured in my dreams, weathered perhaps, but still the woman I loved.
That was enough.
It had to be.
Montana’s rage, Mercy’s despair, my brother’s worried looks—they were casualties of my choice, just as I was a casualty of George, Dakota, and Meredith. But I couldn’t sacrifice another moment of my life to their twisted games. The war against the Soulless Sinners and the many others had cost me everything. Now, with Diana finally found, I was taking back what little I had left: my own damn life.
The second I entered the main gathering room of the clubhouse, I stopped dead in my tracks when a fragile, soft whisper damn near knocked me on my ass.
“August.”
I dared not move.
If this were a dream, I never wanted it to end because there she was, standing not ten feet in front of me. Still the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. My breath hitched; my entire body froze as if struck by lightning. Her whisper, so faint it could have been the wind through the broken windows of my soul, was nonetheless undeniable.