“I wouldn’t mind seeing what he’s got in those pants.”
“Get the fuck out of here, Brandy!” King roared.
“Why does Jackass get to stay?”
“Because what’s in his pants does nothing for me,” the man said seconds before I heard a door slam shut.
“Drop them. That’s an order,” King demanded as seconds ticked by. Holding my breath, I held onto Diana when I heard the rustling of clothes, and then King sighed. “Son of a bitch. Jack, go find Cash and tell him Kytten is locked down. She’s not allowed to leave the club, and then tell him I need to see him. Mimic, you’re locked down too. You’re grounded.”
“What the fuck for?!” Mimic roared. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Bane, what’s the plan here? I can’t keep Mimic contained for long. The little shit is already a pain in my ass.”
“Diana and I will be there soon. Give us twenty-four hours.”
“You’ve got twelve,” King clipped before disconnecting the phone.
Looking down at Diana’s face, I smiled. “Baby, pack a bag. We’re going to Nebraska.”
An hour later, I walked into the clubhouse and headed straight for Montana’s office to find him sitting behind his desk with a half-empty bottle of Hell’s Breath.
“You’re leaving the club, aren’t you?”
I thought I knew what I was going to say to him before I even walked into his office, yet standing before him, looking at the man who stood by my side all these years, the man who never wavered, understood, even at times sat with me when shit got too much, I knew I couldn’t do it.
I wouldn’t abandon him.
“Was going to. Even came in here to tell you that very thing.”
“But?”
Sighing, I looked at my best friend and shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right. What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned you when you needed me?”
“A smart one,” Montana replied, his tone serious. Leaning back in his chair, he groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “Not sure you understand what’s ahead for the club, August. The Death Dogs fired the first shot. Struck an ally club, killed a kid, a prospect with the Silver Shadows. The Biker Federation is divided. Those loyal to the Death Dogs and those loyal to us. Right now, Reaper is out there gathering support, but there are many that agree with the Death Dogs. They want to live their lives as they see fit, not under the thumb of the Federation. They win, and we’re back to square one. The rule handbook won’t exist. It will be a free-for-all until someone bigger and stronger steps up and takes control. For the longest time, it was the Soulless Sinners, but not anymore. I’m barely hanging on to the two clubs I have left. No. The smartest thing you can do is takeDiana and leave. Go live your life in peace. Trust me, brother, you deserve it.”
I wanted to laugh, but the ache in my chest made it impossible. “You really think I would walk away from you, Montana? After everything we’ve been through? After all the blood, sweat, and years we poured into making things right within this club?”
He met my gaze, his own heavy with exhaustion and something like resignation. “That’s the problem, August. Loyalty will get you killed in this world.”
I leaned forward, elbows on knees, searching his face for the man I’d always trusted to have answers. “Maybe it will. Or maybe it’s all we’ve got left.”
The office was silent, save for the distant echo of muffled voices—brothers, still, for now. Out there, the world was shifting. The Death Dogs were calling shots they had no right to call. The Silver Shadows were mourning the loss of a brother. The Federation, once a shield, now felt like a cage rattling apart at every seam.
Montana shook his head slowly. “You see it, don’t you? The storm coming.”
“I do.” My voice was low but sure. “But I’m not leaving you to weather it alone.”
A faint, sad smile tugged at his lips. “Then we fight. Just like we always have.”
I nodded, the decision settling in my bones. There was no easy road, not for people like us. But I’d rather be damned with my brother at my side than safe and haunted by regret.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Montana smirked. “Not one I’m happy with, but I’ll do it if it means the survival of this club.”
Shaking my head, I grinned. “So the rumors are true then. You’re really thinking about doing it?”
“I may not have a choice. Reaper’s got the numbers, and right now, he’s got clubs and allies strategically placed. We patch over and we can cover the east coast and Gulf region. With Kansas and the Diamondbacks in the mid-west, the Bourbon Kings backing up the Gulf, and the Sons of Hell in Virginia, he’d have the advantage.”