Page 59 of True Bastard
“She’s mine, Mom,” I finally admitted, the words a raw confession torn from the depths of my being. “And I’m not letting her go. Not ever.”
The truth, spoken aloud, settled not with relief, but with staggering certainty.
I was no longer just Firestride, the Sergeant at Arms of the Brotherhood of Bastards.
I was Joshua Michael, a man caught between two worlds, and Kyllian, my defiant kitten, was the one thing that made me feel truly alive, truly human, even in the heart of the darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Firestride
It was late as the rumble of my Triumph’s familiar roar echoed around the compound; a sound that usually signaled my homecoming, a return to the only family I’d ever known, now sounded different. Tonight, my engine’s thrumming felt like a discordant note against the chaotic symphony of my own internal struggle. The compound, usually a beacon of brutal camaraderie, now felt like a prison, its familiar walls closing in. I knew the Brotherhood’s rules, their expectations, the unforgiving code that bound us. But Kyllian, my defiant kitten, had carved out a space in my granite-hardened heart, presenting a vulnerability I could no longer ignore. The question was no longer about my loyalty to the Brotherhood; it was about the burning inferno she’d ignited within me, a fire I was terrified to extinguish, and even more terrified to feed.
I dismounted my bike, the familiar weight of my pistol at my hip a cold comfort. The laughter and lewd shouts of my brothers, once a familiar soundtrack to my life, now grated on my nerves, an aggravating reminder of the world I was trying to escape, or perhaps, the world I was irrevocably tied to. Morpheus’ warnings about the“golden pussy”and the dangers of distraction echoed in my mind, but they felt like distant thunder compared to the tempest raging within me. She was a complication, a dangerous detour, a fire that threatened to consume everything I’d fought to build. Yet, as I walked towardsthe entrance, the familiar scent of her pulled at me, a silent siren song in the heart of this savage world.
The sight of her, standing defiant amidst the drunken revelry, her eyes—those turquoise pools that had seen too much—flaring with a familiar, dangerous spark, was a jolt to my system. She was a contradiction, a broken doll with a warrior’s heart, and I was caught in the crosshairs of her spirit. Morpheus’ words,“You chose wrong, brother,”still stung, a painful reminder of the path I’d taken.
But as I met her furious gaze, a grim, reckless resolve settled within me. Tonight, the Brotherhood’s rules, Morpheus’ pronouncements, meant little.
Tonight, the game was for Kyllian, and I would not lose.
Upon seeing me, Nano rushed over. “We need to talk.”
“Later,” I growled, never taking my eyes off her.
“It’s about Kitten.”
I pushed Nano aside, my focus solely on Kyllian. Her eyes, those turquoise pools that had once held a flicker of shared cynicism and something far more dangerous, were now chips of flint, hard and unforgiving. Her fire that had drawn me in, the one I’d so desperately tried to extinguish, now blazed with righteous fury. I’d thought I’d broken her, extinguished the fire that had drawn me in. But I was wrong. She hadn’t shattered; she had been forged, tempered by the very flames I’d tried to control. And now, that fire burned hotter and more dangerous than ever before.
She was my kitten, my old lady, and the thought of losing her, of letting her slip through my grasp, was a pain more profound than any physical wound.
“What the fuck do you want?” she clipped, her eyes pools of defiance and scorn. Her voice, though ragged, held a power that silenced the raucous noise of the clubhouse. I saw the accusation in her stare, the raw pain etched onto the fading bruises onher beautiful face, and a grim understanding settled in my gut. She was not collateral; she was mine, a truth etched not by ownership, but by a fierce, protective instinct that had long since eclipsed the Brotherhood’s cold code.
“You,” I finally managed, the word a guttural rasp torn from my throat, my gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. The carefully constructed walls I’d built around my heart had finally crumbled, replaced by the dawning realization that she had broken me, revealing a landscape of vulnerability I’d long kept hidden. And in that landscape, I found a truth I could no longer deny. She was my world, my inferno, and I would burn it all down before I let anyone else claim her.
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound a sharp, brittle thing that scraped against the inside of my skull. “That’s rich coming from you. Why don’t you just go fuck yourself, or better yet, go find that club whore you were fucking and sink your pencil dick into her. She seemed to enjoy it.”
A familiar heat, a predatory ember I’d spent years smothering, ignited in my gut. It coiled tight right before my hand moved, before a conscious thought could intervene, a primal instinct overriding the carefully constructed walls I’d erected. Fingers clamped around her throat, the delicate pulse beneath her skin a frantic drumbeat against my palm. Her back slammed against the cold wall, a sickening thud that echoed the impact in my own chest.
“You think this is a fucking game, Kitten?” My words ripped from my throat, rough and ragged, laced with a desperation that both disgusted and terrified me. I felt the tremor in my hand, the sickening power thrumming through my veins, a power I’d sworn to control, to bury deep. This was what I hated, what I’d fought tooth and nail to escape. But here I was, back in its suffocating embrace. “You are mine. Do you know the shit I’ve had to endure from this club, from my brothers?” Myjustification tasted like acid in my mouth. I knew it was weak, a pathetic attempt to mask the ugliness of my own actions.
“You’ve had to endure,” she seethed, her voice spitting venom as flames erupted within the depths of her eyes. The ferocity in them, the pure, unadulterated hatred, was a mirror reflecting back my own internal battle. “You sick, twisted motherfucker. Do you know what you’ve put me through? What I’ve had to swallow since you brought me here? Well, fuck you, asshole.”
My grip tightened, the muscles in my arm bunching with a raw, untamed strength. A part of me, the part that still clung to a semblance of decency, recoiled in horror. This was not me. This was the monster I’d always feared I would become. The man I despised and vowed never to become.
I wanted to pull back, to let go, to drown in the shame of what I was doing. But another part, the darker, more desperate part, reveled in it. It fed on her defiance, on the fear I could sense beginning to bloom beneath the anger. I had a choice, a stark, brutal choice laid bare before me. Release her and face the gnawing emptiness, the self-loathing that would follow. Or press on, solidify this terrifying dominion, and damn myself to an eternity of darkness. The choice felt like a betrayal, no matter which path I took. Releasing her meant admitting my weakness, my failure. Pressing on meant becoming the very thing I despised.
I was standing at the precipice, unsure which path to choose, when her fist connected with my jaw.
Choice made.
My mouth crashed against hers, a brutal collision. My tongue, a relentless invader, probed as I gripped her jaw, a desperate attempt to solidify a control that felt terrifyingly fragile. She fought, her nails raking my skin, a futile gesture against my surging... what? Rage? Desire? Her fury ignited awildfire within me, fanning a flame that whispered promises of power and possession, while a small, terrified voice inside screamed for me to stop, to release her, to flee from this monstrous act I was committing.
She groaned, shoving at me, but I held her fast. A flicker of unease prickled at the edge of my awareness. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be. But the raw, animalistic surge that coursed through me drowned out the weak protests.
With a growl, I fisted her hair and yanked, drawing a sharp whimper. Then my mouth was on hers again, teeth dragging and biting at her swollen lips.
Not enough.The thought was a desperate plea, a dark tide pulling me under. I wanted to consume her, strip her down to nothing. My mind screamed for control, for the discipline I’d cultivated, the walls I’d meticulously built. But each touch, each gasp, chipped away at them. I was losing myself in this hunger, becoming the very thing I’d always fought against, and the knowledge was a bitter, intoxicating poison. I knew with a chilling certainty that I would regret this descent, yet I was powerless to stop it.
