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Story Time we already have them in our pocket, but I’ll play the game for a bit. Appease them while I use this to my advantage.

“You know they’re going to want to barter. What is the percentage we are willing to go? Do you have a contract drawn up?” I ask, rolling the joint between my fingers as I light it. Taking a deep pull, I wait for the answers as Dalton produces a contract. As he hands it to me, I blow smoke in his face. Taking the papers, he growls, but I keep hitting the joint, paying no mind to the piece of shit.

“Ideally, we would like 70/30, but those boys are smart, so we are willing to do 50/50 if it comes to that, but we need you to play the game,” Armando informs me and I nod.

“So, they would be the distro and we send out the minions to get us all paid, since we have more bodies than they do?” I ask and they all nod.

“What’s in Daggerspoint that we need the territory?” I ask. I need to know exactly what they think they will gain from this, even if we have it already. I’ve been in contract with Caspian specifically, for almost a year already. The weed I’m smoking is his, and these three have no idea, and wouldn't even think of asking. Fucking idiots.

“The Dungeon is one, but they have the pipeline for other things we need.” My father says and I raise a brow.

“Elaborate please. You want me to take over, right? Maybe it’s time to let me in a little more.” I say, taking another hit off the joint.

“The Dungeon is for trafficking. We need to get away from the dock for that. It’s starting to get hot out there and it’s too much of a risk. As for the pipeline, you will be privy when I feel you are ready for that. It’s a shame your biker slut kicked the dust. She was a huge piece to that puzzle.” He says and I see fucking red, but before I can even react, a gun is pressed to my temple.

“Don’t even think about it. Just get the contract signed. You have one week.” Armando states, and I growl. He cocks the gun, hitting the barrel against my temple, thinking I’m like his son, but I don’t take the fucking bait. I take another hit off my joint and step back.

Blowing out the smoke, I flick it at them and spin, knowing damn well they could shoot me, but at this point, death is better than living a life without Jade.

Hours later, I’m leaving the hospital in Dario’s suburban, not knowing where the fuck he went. I’ve been texting him and haven’t heard shit back. One can only assume Marsela came for him and now he’s stuck in his own hell.

I slam my fist against the steering wheel, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Before I left, the doctors came in to let me know Jay flatlined again and had lost a lot of blood. He’s had a few blood transfusions, but being that he flatlined twice, there was a slight bleed on the brain and his body put itself into a coma. He’s stable for now in his own room, but all we can do is wait. I stayed until the nurses kicked me out, and now I’m not sure where to go.

The Academy is no more and I can’t bring myself to go back there now to get our things. What I need, is fucking sleep, and her. Then I can figure out what the fuck to do next.

I’m so deep in my head that I don’t realize I drove myself to the only home I’ve ever known. Babygirl’s house. Pulling into the driveway, the first thing I notice is a Harley parked and a few bodies laying in the lawn. I need to shut the gates so no one comes snooping around.

Putting the truck in park and shutting it off, I open the center console and grab the pistol, making sure it’s loaded. Getting out, I walk past the bike and dead bodies, right through the open door. Whoever is here was already alerted the minute I pulled into the driveway.

Stepping into the foyer, a gun is pressed to my temple for the third time tonight. “Where is my sister?” he says, “And drop your fucking gun you little shit, now!” He shouts behind me. I place my gun on the floor and kick it away. Showing him I’m not a threat, I hold my hands up and he removes the gun from my head. Taking a deep breath, I turn to him and see that it’s one of the twins. Holy shit.

“Dead!” I spit, and his eyes widen.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s dead?” He yells, as a tear rolls down his face. Fuck. I need to keep it together. Shaking my head, I change the subject.

“Ryder?” I question as I squint, making sure Ryker didn’t suddenly break out of the hospital, “Christ, I thought you were your brother! Where the fuck have you been? We’ve been searching for you. Does anyone else know you’re okay?” I ask, concern laced in my tone. He looks fucking terrible. He’s not wearing his glasses and his eyes are damn near swollen shut as one hand holds his ribs and the other is still holding his gun.

“I’m fine,” he squints. I’m assuming he can’t fucking see that great. “Don’t think you’re fucking slick. I need fucking answers.” He groans, stumbling a bit.

“Fucking hell, come on, let's get you cleaned up. First, tell me what happened. It seems we have a lot to catch up on.” I say, grabbing a hold of him so he doesn't fall.

“Those Russian fuckers ambushed the drop, shot my brother, and took me. After beating me to a bloody pulp, they dumped me at the clubhouse.” He rasps, trying to take a breath. I want to call Doc and have him checked out, but I know what’s in the next room and I’m not ready to face it.

Walking us into the kitchen, refusing to look into the living room, I lean him against the island as I go to the sink, bending down to grab the first aid kit underneath and place it on the counter.

Walking to the fridge, I grab two bottles of water, handing him one. He nods as we both open them, guzzling the water down. Jesus Christ. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until now. He slams the bottle down and his eyes lock with mine.

“Come here, let me at least clean your eye. If you want me to call Doc, just say the word.” I inform and he shakes his head.

“What I want is answers.” He growls, making his way around the island towards me. If I didn’t know him the way I do, I would’ve thought he was Ryker with all the anger and rage projecting from him. But they have different colored eyes and normally he wears glasses. How the fuck was he able to see getting over here?

“Well, we can talk while I disinfect your wounds. Deal? How the fuck can you even see anything right now?” I ask. Taking out everything I need, standing in his space, I get to work.

He squints again, rubbing his eye that’s not swollen shut, “I put in fucking contacts, that ok with you? During the fight, one of those fuckers punched me and the damn thing flew out of my eye.”

“Ok, ok, just asking. What happened once you got to the clubhouse?” I ask, and he takes a deep breath.

“The front gates were busted through, the clubhouse itself is in ruins, and my father was tied to a fucking chair with a bullet between the eyes. Rumor has it that my sister went off the rails killing everyone, orchestrated the ambush, my kidnapping, and my father's death,” he says, wincing as I clean the gash on his eyebrow. I blow on it to soothe the pain.

“You’re going to need stitches. Take off your shirt and let me see if you need them anywhere else.” I order, and he raises a brow.

“I’m lucky I got here in one piece. Just cut it off me.” He says with a smirk. I bend down and pull the knife from my ankle holster, stand up, grip the collar of his shirt and slice down his chest.

Sliding each side down his shoulders, the fabric drops to his waist as he leans against the counter. His chest heaves slightly as I run my hand down his pecs and over his ribs. He winces, then growls when I apply pressure on his left side.

My other hand continues to travel down and I notice blood seeping just under his boxer line. I hesitate for a split second before I unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down so I can get a better look. I clear my throat as my eyes connect with his.

He licks his lips, and I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing right now, but I pull his boxers down slightly. I run my finger over the slice, feeling the warm blood leak from the cut.

“Looks like we will be here awhile if you want me to stitch you up.” I say, not taking my eyes off him. He holds my stare and I’m not sure how to fucking feel at this moment.

“Anywhere else I need to check? It would help if I knew where you're hurting, or I can just call Doc in.” I say, arching a brow as both of our chests heave, but neither of us make a move.

“Oh, there’s plenty that hurts, but let's get back on track. Fix my face first while we talk and we will see where we end up.” He smirks, and I swallow hard. What is happening? Why do I find him fucking hot right now? I’ve only messed around with Jay but fuck, I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t fucking hard as fuck right now, and I’m pretty sure his is too, but I’m too much of a pussy to feel for myself. Shaking my head, I continue to clean his wounds.

“Jade didn’t orchestrate any of it. You ready for fucking story-time? Because shit is about to get deep. There’s a reason we’re in the kitchen and not in the living room, but I’ll get to that.” I say.

“If this is about to get heavy, at least offer me something other than water and a hard dick.” He laughs, and there’s my confirmation. Fuck my life. I step away and search for a bottle of Gentleman’s Jack. Praying there’s still one in here somewhere.

“Look in the cabinets and I’ll check the freezer.” I order as I walk over to the fridge, opening it and seeing there’s food and vodka.

“Bingo!” He yells and I spin, looking at him holding a bottle of tequila. I dig into my pocket and take out another joint and a lighter, handing both to him.

“Spark that shit and take a swig.” I tell him and he does just that, taking a deep pull before he exhales slowly.

“We were all at school when the Russians shot up the Academy looking for Jade. To make a long story short, we escaped, only to have a shootout while leaving. When we knew they would come here, we went to war, just for the Pakhan to show up and take Jade.” I say as he hands me the joint while taking a swig from the bottle. I take a deep inhale and blow it out, passing it back to him.

“So the Pakhan actually showed his face?” He asks and I nod, taking the joint back from him and pulling another deep hit. My heart is already in my throat with what I’m about to say next.

“Jade being Jade, forced the prick to kill the dogs, hence why I won’t go in the living room. That’s where it happened.” I spit and a lone tear seeps from my eye, but before it could roll down my cheek, he wipes it away, licking the salty liquid from his thumb. My dick twitches at the notion. Fuck.

“Fuck, man. Not the dogs. Jade must’ve been devastated.” He spews, taking another swig from the bottle, passing me the joint again. Taking another hit, I pass it back and grab the tequila. Taking a deep gulp, I savor the feeling of letting the liquid set fire to my throat.

“She only saw Apollo get shot. I watched the others, and I unleashed hell on them Russian fuckers for it. Me and my brother fought for our lives while Jade was gone. Then suddenly, it stopped, and they left without a word. We sat here waiting for her to come back, but she never did. Jay’s dad called and told us that she killed your father. One can only assume she was forced. There’s so much shit that’s happened while you were gone. So much shit.” I say, shaking my head.

Looking at my supplies laid out I grab the needle and put the thread through, “This isn’t going to feel great.” I say, stepping closer to him as I push the needle through his skin. He tries not to flinch, but he can’t help it.

“What happened next?” He hisses as he asks, taking another swig and pressing the bottle to my lips for me to take a gulp. I continue to stitch his brow and tell the rest of the story.

“We tracked Jade and saw she was back at the Academy, so we hauled ass. But we were too late. When we got there, she-she was f-f-ace down in the ll-ake.” I stammer and his eyes widen. Pressing the needle through for the last stitch, he growls, gripping onto my hips and I clear my throat.

“We tried to save her b-b-uutt she wouldn't breathe, she wouldn’t open her eyes, and I lost my shit. I blamed Jay for all of it and stabbed him in the chest,” I breathe out, trying not to let my mind go back to that moment. I right myself before I tell him this next part, making sure I tie off the stitch and put the needle down. “Oh, and your fucking girlfriend, the snake of a cunt she is, wanted us to leave Jade for dead.” I growl.

“Keep going. We will get to Kayla in a second.” He says, which piques my interest, but I continue after taking another gulp from the bottle.

“They were both rushed to the hospital. Jay flatlined twice and is now in a coma. Your boyfriend is the one who told me Jade was dead. When I demanded to see her body, he told me she was already fucking cremated. I didn’t even get to see her before they burned her.” I seethe, taking another swig of the tequila. Fuck, I need more weed.

“My sister is dead, my father is dead, my twin is in intensive care. Everything is such a fucking mess.” He yells, grabbing the bottle and taking a long gulp before sending it flying across the kitchen. It shatters against the wall and I take a step back, letting everything flood my mind. Sliding down the cabinets, I sit on the floor, bring my knees to my chest and release the sob that’s been sitting in my throat.

I don’t want to live in this nightmare anymore. Not without her by my side.

This can’t be real. It just fucking can’t.