Dutch stepped in next to me. “We need to discuss the current situation with Alyx and—”
“My vote is we tell her,” Manic said, as if it was as obvious as the sun rising in the east.
“Great.” I held my arms out wide as I spun around. “Seems like you all agree.”
Dutch nodded. “We do. Listen, Granite. We are all aware of your personal situation with Alyx.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snapped.
“It means we know this is no longer just a war between rival clubs fighting over turf and business. It’s personal now, after what happened with Neon…for all of us.” He stepped up, closer to me. “And it’s personal for you because of Alyx. We get that, and we don’t judge. Right, guys?” he called over his shoulder, and they all agreed firmly.
“But,” Onyx started, “this has gone on long enough, and Alyx needs to know. The woman is slowly wasting away.”
“I agree,” Ink chimed in. “Besides. She’s going to find out sooner or later.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “So this is what an ambush feels like.”
“No. It’s not an ambush.” Onyx lit his cigarette. “But if you’re completely honest with yourself, and push that guilt trip you’re constantly on aside, you’ll realize it’s the right fucking thing to do.”
Dutch, Onyx, Manic, and Ink all stared at me like they were waiting for me to announce world fucking peace. They were right. I knew that. But besides my own guilt keeping me from doing the right thing, I wasn’t sure if she was ready. I wasn’t sure Alyx was ready to handle the truth—especially since it wasn’t pretty.
“She’s not ready,” I said simply. “Alyx isn’t ready. She’s too weak.”
“Don’t underestimate her, Granite.” He blew out some smoke. “I think she’s proven to be much stronger than we all thought.”
“You said it yourself, Onyx. She’s wasting away. She won’t eat because of what shethinksis the truth. What the fuck do you think will happen when sheseesit?”
“I don’t know, man. But I’m pretty sure it will be ten times better than it is right now.”
In a bid to avoid eye contact with any of them, I glanced around the room. Leather couches, dark gray walls, and charcoal marbled tiles on the floor. This house was any minimalist’s dream…and currently this situation was a goddamn nightmare—for me. The longer I stood there, the more it felt like the walls were closing in on me. And knowing she was there too, trapped between four walls, suffering…it was suffocating me, squeezing every ounce of breath from my lungs.
“I can’t think.” I grabbed the keys to my bike from the table next to the front door. “I’m going for a ride. Maybe I’ll be able to fucking think without you fuckers staring at me.”
They didn’t stop me. They knew better than to try. Fucking with the devil when he was on the edge of exploding was like playing with the lion’s balls. You’d get torn and chewed up within seconds.
Dutch silently followed me out to the garage. He never let me ride alone. Ever. But that didn’t bother me. He knew me long enough to know not to fucking talk, and to keep his distance while he played bodyguard around me.
I put my lid on and climbed on my Harley. The start of the engine roared, and it instantly calmed the blood burning in my veins. There was nothing like controlling a beast between your legs, the vibration and sound of pipes singing to your soul while the freedom to soar into the unknown calmed your anger and cleared your mind.
I looked at Dutch, and he nodded. A silent sign of comradery, respect, and support.
No matter what I decided.
7
Alyx
The water feltsoft against my skin. Warm and soothing. I couldn’t remember the last time I took a bath. After Granite had disappeared on me earlier, I had to do something to try to settle my mind, my thoughts.
Looking down at my naked body stretched in the tub, it was visible even to me that I had lost more weight. Mommy dearest would have been proud to see her daughter starve herself, no matter what the reason.
I banished the thought of her as quickly as it popped into my head. There was no way I’d be able to deal with those demons as well while I fought another devil.
The hairs on my legs were longer than they’d been in years. Shaving wasn’t exactly a priority while you were kidnapped and held prisoner. Personal grooming was the farthest thing from my mind.
I turned my leg to the side, looking at the tattoo on my inner thigh. It healed well, the scabs gone, and the skull was perfect…unlike its leader.
The tattoo made me think of Red. My best friend. She was probably going out of her mind already. How long had it been? How long was it since they took me—since I got plummeted into the darkest corner of the devil’s lair?