Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Hands are on my back. He’s rocking me, muttering words that are just a drone in my ears until I finally choke enough to hear: “You’re okay, I got you—breathe, fuck, please—breathe.” The hot wetness sliding down my face could be mine or his, I don’t know.
I push off him, gasp for breath, and when I look up, his eyes are wild, rimmed red and desperate, searching my face for something human. “What happened?” he barks, voice sandpaper-raw.
I can only shake my head, mouth working but no sound coming out. “It’s Zane,” I finally croak. “The bomb—he—he fucked up, and it—he—he held it, so it wouldn’t—” The rest disappears into a burst of sobs. Knox’s head falls forward, just for a split second, like the sheer gravity of the truth made his whole body buckle.
He doesn’t ask again. Just pulls me up, one arm under my knees, another around my shoulders, and hauls me through the grass like a rag doll. His strength is all rage and grief and necessity, body shaking with each step but never hesitating. The world is chaos—men yelling, police shouting, smoke curling up to blot the late afternoon sun. None of it touches us. He doesn’t stop until we’re at his bike, parked down the track where the trees merge into the pasture.
I am set on the ground, but my legs still don’t work, so I collapse against him, my hands curling into his shirt with a white-knuckle grip. I don’t even realize I’m digging into his chest until he peels them gently away, holds them both in his own trembling hands.
Knox’s eyes are empty. Hollowed out. This is a different kind of loss, bone-deep and echoing. He presses his forehead to mine, his voice a shredded whisper: “He’s gone?”
I can’t even nod. I just start to wail again, this animal sound I don’t even recognize. He shushes me, rocking back and forth. “He did it to save you,” Knox tells me, jaw working. “He fuckin’ always said he’d go out his own way. He didn’t want any of us to have to—” He can’t even finish. I watch the words back up behind his teeth until his jaw clicks.
Minute by minute, the world moves. Voices blur behind us, the fire department and cops rolling in. Knox tucks my hair back from my face, wipes my cheek with his thumb. He yanks his phone out, types something rapid-fire. A minute later, the low thunder of bikes comes rolling down the shoulder of the distant road. I see them at the top of the paddock, riding three across, not even pretending to obey traffic laws.
Knox lifts me onto the back of his bike, climbs in front, and tells me, “Hold on, we can’t stay here, it’s too risky.” I do, arms snaked around his ribs, forehead to his spine. I hear his heart pounding through his shirt. He doesn’t wait for anything, just guns it, wheels pounding through the soft grass, away from the house, the cops, the mess left behind.
He takes us down a gravel road—one of the ones that just ends up in a forgotten stretch of woods. The other bikes are already there. We are about to tell them the worst news of their lives. I slide off when the bike stops, my legs wobbling. Knox stands, face turned to the tree line. Wolfe is first off his bike, and when he sees me, his whole face changes.
It’s like he knows.
He doesn’t need to ask.
“He’s gone,” Knox tells Wolfe, his voice low and broken. “Somethin’ went wrong, he got Callie out. Had no choice.”
Wolfe’s face falls, and the pain I see there is enough to start the sobs again. Mera rushes over, and when she sees us all, her face drops, too. “No. What happened?”
“Zane is dead,” Knox grinds out, his voice like gravel.
Mera screams.
Everything else is a blur after that.
There are cries of pain and roars of frustration, and so many arms around me, that I don’t even know who they belong to. I apologize, over and over again, telling them I tried, I begged, that I did everything I could.
It doesn’t make me feel better.
Even when they support me through it.
Because I can’t help but think that if I never came into town, Zane would be alive.
It gets dark before anyone decides to make a move. Knox finally stands, his voice a low growl “We gotta get out of here. Our brother didn’t die for nothing. Let’s go.” But he doesn’t look at anyone while he says it.
With that, we all get up.
It’s over, it’s finished, and yet the only lesson I learned today is this: freedom always comes at a cost.
Always.
“I ONLY HAVE A MINUTE, but I know what will happen if I don’t send this message. You will all be pissed, and angry, and do stupid shit. I don’t want you to. I made this choice, and I’d do it again. It was me, or all of you, and I was never goin’ to allow that to happen. Don’t blame Callie, either, I’m looking at you Wolfe. She didn’t want to leave me. She begged. She isn’t at fault. No one is. I mean that, Callie. I know you’re going to blame yourself. Don’t. You did everything you could. This ain’t on you. So don’t sit around cryin’ for me, I need you all to move forward and live your lives, be done with all this bullshit once and for all. Take the club in a better direction, and start doing good. Don’t make my sacrifice for nothing. If I catch you fuckers drowning, I’ll haunt every one of you. I love you all and I’m thankful for the life you gave me, I’m with my baby now. Peace out.”