Niki. Niki. Niki… What am I to do with you?

  The fury that emanates from this beautiful creature should be boner-inducing. Only I’m more concerned about her state of mind. Not what’s between those thighs.

  “What are you doin’, Niki?”

  “None of your fuckin’ business, asshole.” Niki yanks her hand free of mine and takes a staggard step backward, her other palm remaining on the wall for stability.

  “You wanna go somewhere and talk?” I gesture toward my old clubhouse bedroom not far from here. Adam might’ve claimed it but gettin’ her some place private where she can sleep off the alcohol is for the best.

  “With you?” Throwing her head back, Niki barks a dark, humorless laugh. “Hell no.”

  Well damn. Someone doesn’t like me much today, does she? I dunno what I’ve done to warrant this kinda attitude, but I’m about to find out.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her nostrils flare. “I wanted dick. You stole my ability to get said dick. Dick.”

  Knowing she’s not in her right mind, I ignore the disdain. “Let’s go to my room and chat. Sober you up a bit. Maybe sleep off whatever this is. Yeah?”

  “No! I’m sick of all you bikers thinkin’ you have a say in what I do, or I don’t do!” She sways on her feet. “You, of all people, don’t get a say in anything anymore! You made your choice. You picked her. Just like Big picked Bink. All you assholes find someone better than me. Someone you can love. Oh, I’m good enough to spread my legs for you. I’m good enough to let you stick your dick in my ass. But I’m not good enough for love. Not that. Never fucking that.”

  Okkkay… I didn’t see that one comin’.

  Niki’s right, though. But we’ve never lied about it. Not once. Club whores often become club whores ’cause they desire to be claimed, to wear a “property of” patch. It’s their way into the fold, to feel special. The sad truth of it is, we don’t want long-term with a woman who’ll open her legs for everyone. We want our woman to be ours. One we connect with. Sure, my brother, Brew, claimed a club whore. Lots of other brothers have put babies in ‘em. They still won’t commit. Most of ‘em end up deadbeat dads. If they claim one, they usually stray, and end up with an entire fuckin’ harem of whores beatin’ on their door. There’s too much drama in that game.

  Still, none of what I’ve done was ever meant to harm anyone. Just ’cause I can’t love you, doesn’t mean I don’t care. Obviously, I give a shit, or I wouldn’t be standin’ here havin’ this conversation. Make sense? I think so.

  “I am sorry that hurts you. We’ve always been honest about our intentions,” I explain as nicely as I can, knowin’ it’ll likely mean fuckall to her.

  My suspicions are confirmed when Niki’s eyes narrow into tiny slits. “You can lay in bed with me for hours talking. Fuck me time and time again. Face fuck me on your bed, looking in my eyes like you care. Like I matter. Come down my throat. I swallowed you. All of you. But nooo… I don’t deserve your fucking love.” Spittle flies from her lips.

  “I don’t love. I can’t love. Not like that. You wouldn’t want it if I could. Nobody would.” Truth. Every. Single. Word.

  Niki growls in frustration. “Lies! You love her!” She throws a hand up.

  “It’s not like that,” I defend, ’cause it’s not.

  “Stop lying! Just. Stop. Lying!” She slaps one side of her bald head on repeat as if she can’t stand to hear me speak another word. “You went to her after the warehouse! You held her hand and you comforted her. Not once did you hug me. Not once did you stay long enough to see if I was okay!”

  Fuck. This isn’t going anywhere.

  I inhale a long, deep breath. On my exhale, I do my best to set shit straight, calmly, yet to the point. “Niki, please. I’m sorry I hurt you. Let’s go drink some water, maybe grab a bite of somethin’.”

  Whipping her head violently back and forth at my suggestion, Niki plucks her purse off the ground, still using the wall as her anchor. She hooks the leather strap over her shoulder, reaches into the brown bag, and pulls out the small silver handgun I bought her years ago. Swaying on sock-covered feet, she points the thing straight at my forehead.

  Fuckin’ goddammit.

  Glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody’s around to witness this, I put both hands up, palms out. “Niki—” I start, only to be cut off by the red-faced, sweat-coated, tits bouncing with each pissed-off breath, woman.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” Niki punctuates each word with a firm shake of the gun. “I. Don’t. Want. Your. Water. I. Don’t. Want. Your. Food… and I sure as shit don’t want your apology!”

  I say nothing.

  This has gone from bad to epically fuckin’ worse.

  She’s not done.

  On an endless inhale, Niki’s chest expands, and she blows out a loud breath. The bottom lip I’ve sucked a million times wobbles as tears well in her eyes. I know this is hard. Maybe I should’ve gone and checked in. Bein’ shot isn’t an excuse. I could’ve done better.

  Tears cascade down her blotchy face.

  “I hate you.”

  I deserve that.

  I dip my head in understanding.

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

  Fuck.

  My stomach clenches.

  I say nothing.

  “You get me, in here.” She taps the handgun to her heart.

  Christ. What can I say to that? She’s not the first woman to fall in love with me. That’s why I don’t do feelings. Why I don’t date. No matter how much I like them, their inevitable heartbreak isn’t a prize to be won. I shield them more for their own good than mine. Sorry fixes nothing, no matter how many times I express it. Facts are facts. I want her to be happy, healthy, and not mixed up in this horrible mess. But I can’t give her something that isn’t mine to give. This fickle, fucked-up organ in my chest doesn’t like people. The bastard doesn’t even like me. Who does he seem to like? Kit. That’s all I know. He wakes up when she’s around. He beats and feels a whole lot less heavy in her presence. It’s new. Terrifying. Confusing… and… so… so… so motherfuckin’ terrifying. Yeah, the latter needed mentioning again. Terrifying. There, a third time.

  Doin’ my best not to make the situation any worse than it already is, and to make her relinquish the weapon, I put out a hand. “Give me the gun, Niki. Please.” I speak cool and slow, palms up, feet planted, steady eyes on hers.

  She steps back.

  Once. Twice.

  I remain still.

  “Niki, please.”

  Staring at my proffered hand, her head shakes in tiny, sharp bursts. Tears drip one by one down her cheeks. Reaching her chin, each free falls to the floor. Plop, plop, plop.

  “Why? You don’t care. None of you care.” Her words are a mere whisper, barely heard above the thumping of the common room speakers.

  “I care. I’m here. This is me carin’.” Wiggling my fingers, I nod toward my open palm. I don’t wanna be a problem for her. I don’t want her havin’ to carry all this grief by herself. I just want her to put the gun down and get help. That, I can do for her. That, I can give.

  “Can you love me?” Her bottom lip trembles.

  No.

  The look on my face must be answer enough. Niki sucks back a sob as she lifts the gun to her temple. Before I can do a damn thing, say a damn thing, she flashes me an ugly, broken smile and pulls the trigger. Brain matter sprays from the opposite side of her skull, bathing the hallway walls in crimson.

  No!

  Not giving a damn about my own injuries, I dive forward to catch her body before it crumbles to the ground.

  I cradle her limp form in my arms as I sit on the floor, my back against the wall, my legs out, her blood coating us both. My wound throbs in time with my frantic heart as I rock her still-warm body against mine.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, a frog lodging itself in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “You deserved better. So much fuckin’ better.” I hug her tighter to my chest, wishing I could have done more, could’ve been more.

  Fuck.

  I swallow thickly.

  Fuck!

  Niki, why’d you have to go and do something so goddamn stupid?

  I can’t believe this is real.

  Hot liquid blurs my vision.

  A large form casts a shadow over us as it blocks out the overhead lights. “Gunz…brother… What the hell’s goin’ on?”

  Of course, Big would be the one to find us.

  Unable to form words or look my brother in the eye without gettin’ choked up, I gesture to the handgun lying in the middle of the floor, near the sole of my shitkicker.

  A low rumble leaches outta Big. Knowin’ my brother for as long as I have, it’s a sad sound. “Damn, woman.” He kneels and picks up the weapon, his long, brown hair dropping like a veil on either side of his skull.

  Doin’ what he does for family, Big pockets the gun and drops his heavy ass on the floor beside me. He lifts Niki’s legs and drapes them over his lap, to bear this weight together. His thick shoulder and arm rest against mine.

  “It’s been a shit month,” he grumbles.

  Tell me about it.

  Emotions paint my face in salty remnants of pain.

  I can’t believe she’s gone.

  In my arms, dead.

  Forever.

  Gone.

  We sit in silence for what feels like decades before Prez speaks again. “This is not how I saw shit goin’.” He sighs. “Remy’s gotta be put to ground.”

  Fuck that piece of scum. “We need to get our women help,” I choke out. That’s what’s important. Picking up the pieces. Fixing what he’s shattered, one shard at a time. I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if I gotta be the one to sweep up each piece and glue them back together myself. I’ll do it, for them. All of ‘em. Nobody will end up like Niki, lying still in my arms as the familiar scent of death floods the air.

  “The pussy doc is comin’ tomorrow first thing,” Big comments as if that’ll somehow help.

  A dry, humorless laugh releases itself as I side-eye my brother. “That’s not what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s dead, ’cause of us.” My embrace tightens around her form.

  Big delivers a nod… slow and heavy, as his shoulders hunch forward. “I know that too… and I’m sorry for it. We didn’t start this war with Remy, but we gotta be the ones to end it. We don’t need any more of our women or children, or anyone for that matter, goin’ through this. Think about it, brother. Janie went through what Niki did, for longer, and there are more Janie’s out there.” Big strokes Niki’s shin with a single finger.

  I’ve thought about it plenty. It’s one of the reasons I took Janie and Dom under my roof. Why I put in the work and helped. Why I give a shit.

  Glancing down at the woman in my arms, I gently rest Niki’s body on my thighs, yank my shirt over my head, and use it to cover her bare chest. The last thing anyone needs to see when we carry her outta here is her naked body. She deserves at least that much dignity. Not that she’d care. Hell, she probably wouldn’t care at all. But I do.

  Pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down, Big doesn’t say a thing when he climbs off the ground with her legs in tow. I follow suit and we do what needs to be done.

  Heart heavy, we head into our clubhouse infirmary and lay her body upon the cold, sterile, stainless-steel table. A table all of us brothers have been stitched on dozens of times before. The night Big got shot on the compound by a crazy bitch, we brought him here. Now it’s where we leave Niki’s body to rest. I adjust her head to the side, to hide the biggest part of her trauma. Not everyone has guts of steel. It takes years to handle brutal deaths without bein’ squeamish.

  Beside each other, Big and I stand back, our arms crossed over our chests, and look… at her, at the bruises, at her discolored skin. My gaze turns bleary once more. I wipe the wetness from my eyes with both fists. Big clasps me on the shoulder and squeezes. I grumble in response. This is not how I pictured our homecoming playin’ out. Now that they’re safe, I thought the worst was over.

  Goosebumps pebble across my skin as I inhale the deepest breath and blow it slowly out of my mouth, to get a grip on the darkness that wreaks its havoc on my shuddery insides. It’s been too much for far too long. Bad day after bad day. Dead ends and death. Exhaustion and stress. I’m barely home an hour, and I’ve got duties to deal with, people to see, wars to fight.

  Shaking my head, I sigh and continue to do what I do… take care of what needs taking care of. I adjust the shirt over Niki’s breasts and grab a white sheet from our stash on a nearby shelf. I flick my chin and eyes at Big to help me. Together, we drape the cotton over her form. The last thing we need is any of our women or children comin’ in here for a bandage only to see this.

  Before we leave, I expose Niki’s petite hand beneath the sheet and deliver the smallest of kisses upon her cooler, firm flesh. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, more for myself than her in a final farewell. May she rest in peace.

  Big follows me as we exit the infirmary to reconvene in the hall. “I’m gonna get our prospect to clean up the mess.” Prez gestures to where the scene took place.

  Defeated by the day, I nod once, tired to the bone.

  “You go home,” Big orders. “Be with your woman. I’ll have someone pick up Niki and do the same as they’re doin’ for Runner.”

  “Her family?” I know there are some. Not many. But a few. They disowned her when she became a club whore. Apart from her cousins, we’re all she’s had for years.

  Prez leans a shoulder against the wall. His head tilts to the side to rest against the smooth surface. “I’ll take care of it. You’ve done enough.” His eyes close for a beat.

  “Didn’t seem that way today… at Church.”

  “I know. Fuck.” He massages the nape of his neck. “It’s been a lot on all of us. The club needs you. I need you. With Kai bein’ new, he’s—”

  “Learning,” I tack on for him.

  “Sure. We’ll go with that. Take the next forty hours. Be with your family. We can survive that long without you.”

  “You know things aren’t gonna crumble in a week if you take a breather, Prez.” He deserves as much downtime as I do, if not more. Sure, I was on the road, but he was here, dealin’ with all that entails. If you think running a national motorcycle club is an easy feat, you’d be wrong. Dead wrong.

  “I wish that were true.”

  “It is. Give Kai some credit. Tell him to handle the deaths. Give him more responsibilities. He will handle ‘em, or you’ll hand him his ass… No, we can both hand him his ass if he fucks it up. He’s part of this club now. Sink or swim, baby. That’s how we roll. Go spend the night with your old lady and your kid. I’m gonna do the same with mine. We’re too fuckin’ old to run ourselves into the ground.”

  If only I could take my own advice. Easier said than done. But Kai has kept this place together alongside Big. He’s green, but he’s capable. That much is clear, even if he’s out of his depth half the time. Big doling out duties to the kid—shit he would have given to Steel, our former VP, in a heartbeat—is how he’s gonna show his salt, his value to our brotherhood. A man can’t lead if you’ve shackled him. That’s why he’s here. To step in and step the fuck up.

  Absorbing my wisdom, Big tips his head in a quiet form of consideration. “I’m sorry about Niki,” he says, scrubbing the two-day-old scruff on his jaw.

  Not wantin’ to talk about her any more than we already have, I run a palm down my bare abs and nod a couple times. “Me too,” I mumble, eyes focused on my scarred boots.

  “The doc will see Kit in the morning, to sort her out.”

  “I appreciate that. What about the rest of the sisters?” Jonesin’ for a Dum Dum to ease whatever’s ragin’ inside me, even a little, I stuff both hands in my front pockets and rock back on my heels instead. My dumbass figured the few I already ate were gonna be enough for Church. Everyone jokes about the bowls of ‘em around the clubhouse. What good do those do when I’m stuck in the hall, unable to get my fix when I’m talkin’ to Prez.

  Christ… I sound like an addict.

  Eh.

  Call a spade a spade. I am one.

  For suckers.

  For sex.

  For Kit.

  At least those are healthier vices than some.

  Yeah, I know, also something addicts say. Sue me. I am who I am.

  Big heaves the world’s noisiest sigh. “Doc’s visitin’ Loretta and Jade at their homes. White Boy and Blimp are already with ‘em, keepin’ an eye out. Doin’ what they need to do for their ladies.”

  “And Beth?” My poor, innocent friend who got tangled up in all this mess.

  “Whisky drove up an hour ago and took her back with her.”

  Wait… What?

  Taken aback, I crinkle my forehead and nose in confusion. “She’s gone?”

  “Yeah. Beth… had a breakdown after Runner and all the other shit went down. We’re not equipped to handle that kinda stuff when we’ve got a war at our front door. She’s safer with your brother and the other survivors.”

  And I’m informed of this now? Not beforehand. Not… I don’t have time to get into the details as to why they didn’t say jack shit. If Big thinks she needs better reinforcements and support, then fine. I’m too tired to fight him.

  “And Jonesy?” I ask, because she was caring for him, and he’s too old to look out for himself.

  “After they kidnapped her, I paid to have him put in a nice home.”

  “Was Beth good with that?”

  “Dunno.” He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter to him one way or another. “But it’s closer to where she’s livin’ now and safer for him to live the rest of his days, chasin’ tail, not worrying about his granddaughter.”

  True.

  “I guess that’s, that… huh?” I lift and drop a single, exhausted shoulder.