Page 43 of The Bane of a Sinner
And doing so would destroy myself in the process.
“August? What’s up with the cloak-and-dagger shit?” Montana questioned, walking into the room only to stop and look around. Cautiously, he asked, “Why are we meeting here, August?”
“Because I wanted you to understand what I’m giving up. What I’m walking away from.”
Montana walked over to me, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, as long as your dad is alive, they will never be safe. You were right. I should have listened to you before. I thoughtI could protect her, but instead, I’ve made things worse. We are going to do it your way from now on.”
“You do this, August, you’ve got to sell it. You’ve never been good at acting.”
“It’s the only way,” I said, gripping the teddy bear tighter. I knew that now. The only way to stop a monster was to face it head-on, and to do that, I had to walk away from everyone I loved.
“It could take years.”
“The more time I can give her, the safer she’ll be.”
“You may never see her or your kid again.”
“It’s a price I’m willing to pay for her safety.”
“Only you and I can know. No one else.”
I nodded.
“I found a judge willing to play his part. From here on out, we only talk when I bring you twenty grand every month. You concentrate on being a doctor and getting everyone’s DNA into that system. The faster you can put the pieces together, the faster this shit ends. My old man fucked up when he ordered you to do that shit, and we’re gonna use it against him. In the meantime, I’m gonna be the son of a bitch he raised and help him take the club global. The more brothers I can get, the easier it’s going to be to take his ass and those he’s working with down when the time comes.”
“We still don’t know who they all are yet?”
“I’ll find someone we can trust. Someone not affiliated with the club. Until we figure out what the fuck is going on, we play our parts.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask of you, Montana,” I said, as the weight of my decision settled on my shoulders. “But it’s the only way to keep them safe. Diana and my child are all that matters now, and I won’t let anything happen to them. Not while I’m alive.” I took a breath, steeling myself for what was to come. “I’ll do whateverit takes to sell this act, even if it means becoming someone else entirely. I’ll be the doctor everyone expects me to be, and I’ll create that database, but I need your help to keep him off my back.” I paused, the gravity of our conversation hanging between us.
Montana ran a hand through his hair, his eyes reflecting the seriousness of the situation. “You know I’m in, no matter what, brother. I’ll do whatever it takes, August. But it won’t be easy. We’re talking about some powerful people here.” He paused, a steely determination settling over his features. “But fuck ’em. We’ll do what we have to do, and we’ll do it our way. And when the time comes, we’ll take ’em down hard.”
The plan was set, and with it, a weighty silence filled the room. The gravity of our decisions hung heavy in the air, but there was no turning back now. We both knew the risks, and the potential consequences were dire. Yet, driven by my love for family and my desire for justice, I was committed to seeing it through.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Diana
April 4, 2004, Las Vegas Methodist Hospital...
As I lay in the hospital bed, my body racked with the pain of contractions, I felt a warmth beside me—the gentle presence of the nurse. “Breathe, honey,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. I focused on my breath, trying to find solace in the rhythm of inhalation and exhalation. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I knew that with each contraction, I was bringing a new life into the world—a life that would forever remind me of love and loss. I tried to be strong, to be the woman he needed me to be, but right now all I wanted to do was crumble and cry. I didn’t want to do this without him.
The nurse’s words were like a lifeline, guiding me through the storm of emotions. I clung to her encouragement, grateful for the comfort she offered. Yet, despite her efforts, the pain persisted. It was a physical manifestation of the heartbreak I felt, a constant reminder of the man who should have been by my side. As the contractions intensified, so did my grief. With each breath, I felt the weight of my solitude.
The room echoed with my labored breathing and the beeping of medical equipment. I closed my eyes, willing the pain to subside, but my heart continued to mourn. In that moment, I realized that the joy of becoming a mother would always be tinged with sadness. My child would never know their father, and I would forever carry the burden of explaining his absence.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
None of it was. He should be here with me, beside me, holding my hand. Instead, I was alone trying to bring our child into the world by myself.
The hours stretched on, measured in the relentless rise and fall of pain, the rhythmic beeping of monitors, and the muted voices of nurses drifting in and out of the room. There was no sign of dawn through the slats of the Venetian blinds, only the harsh fluorescence above and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Each contraction brought me closer to the moment I both dreaded and longed for—the first cry, the proof that life had begun in spite of so much darkness.
Between waves of agony, I clung to memories of him: the way his hands steadied mine, the rough timbre of his voice when he whispered that everything would be all right. I craved his presence—needed his strength as much as I needed air. But all I had were silent promises and the hope that he was out there somewhere, fighting for us.
A nurse squeezed my hand, her smile gentle but tired. “You’re doing so well, honey. You’re almost there.” I nodded, forcing a breath, determined to see it through. This child—our child—deserved a world better than secrets and shadows. With every ounce of will, I pushed aside the fear, the loneliness, and focused on the spark of life within me when the door opened and in walked two doctors.
