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We all sat there stunned as Sypher shared the secret King had been keeping from us.

“They have to be told,” Blade said.

“Not yet. Not until she’s safe,” Sypher insisted.

“Will she ever really be safe?” Colt asked. “Because once word gets out about who she is and who she’s related to, the whole fucking underworld will want her,” Jingles asserted.

“Which is why no one can know she’s here. Not yet. Not even them,” Sypher pressed.

“This is gonna blow up in your fucking face. Ask me how I know,” Blade said.

He was right. When Amber found out who she was and who her family was, and that King and Sypher kept that information from her, well, let’s just say, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here when that happened.

“It’s a risk, yes. But one I have no choice but to take.”

“My old lady knows this shit?”

“She does. She knows everything,” Sypher confirmed.

“Fucking hell.” Gunner rubbed his hand over his face, and we all felt for him. “She carries the weight of every fucking patient.”

“She’s good at what she does,” Cash added.

King had ordered him to talk with Haizley to deal with his grief over losing Rachel. We weren’t sure how well it was working, but at least he wasn’t drunk 24/7 anymore.

“Haizley is very good. Gunner, you should be proud to call her yours.”

“Best thing I ever fucking did,” he agreed.

“And leaving your sister was the worst,” I mumbled.

“Fuck you, Ghost.”

“This is not the time, you two. You both got your shots in; let it fucking go before I order you both to talk to Haizley together and work this shit out.”

“I would like to remind you I suggested we all have sessions with her almost two fucking months ago.”

“Yea, because you wanted to fuck her.” Jack snickered.

“And I fucking got her. Meanwhile, you all are still dealing with your shit. Who fucking won, asshole?”

“Alright, fuckers, enough.” King rubbed the back of his neck. “You all now know what I know. Nothing Sypher shared leaves this room. When you walk out there, leave this shit at the door.”

We nodded, and King slammed the gavel on the table, saying, “Get the fuck out.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Melissa

I walked out of church on Dante’s arm, and before we went to Dani, who was once again on the couch with Tank and Charlie watching cartoons, I pulled him over to the bar.

“How are you doing, Dante?”

He assured me he was good, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Calling over the prospect, I ordered a glass of wine for us both.

“Dante.”

I waited as he kept his gaze on the prospect who poured the wine. His eyes never lifted as the glass was set down in front of him. Taking the wineglass in his hand, he lifted it, swirling it around and taking a sip.