Page 26 of Desert Sky (RB MC #4)

JD

I hated myself.

Hated how I let her get under my skin.

That kiss—it should’ve been a mistake. A ghost from the past. But damn me, I *wanted* it. Needed it. I tasted every year I lost in that kiss, and still it wasn’t enough.

She looked the same—but better. More mature. A woman now. Softer curves. Deeper eyes. That long dark hair with threads of auburn catching the low light like fire.

And her body…

My body remembered hers too well.

I wanted her. Still. Always.

I left her crying, shaking on the edge of that mattress as I climbed the cellar steps like I was dragging my soul up with me.

In the clubhouse, I went straight to the bar and poured myself a whiskey neat. Then another.

The burn barely registered.

River slapped my back, nodding like he understood. Edge followed suit.

“You good, brother?” River asked .

I grunted. “Yeah. Just… needed a reset.”

I stayed in the bar, slouched in the booth with Edge and River, nursing my third—or maybe fourth—glass of whiskey. The bite didn’t burn anymore. My blood was numb. My mind chaos.

Edge didn’t say much. He never did unless he had something worth hearing.

River just watched me with that sharp-eyed look, like he could see straight through my chest and into the shadows Skye had left behind.

Then the door opened.

Regan, Edge’s woman, strolled in, hips swaying, hair in a braid like a rope. Right behind her, Amber—Tarak’s wife—stepped in, sunglasses still on, lips set in a line of suspicion.

“Heard there’s a woman locked up in the basement,” Regan said, voice slicing through the smoky air like a blade.

I froze mid-sip.

“Who told you that?” Edge growled, straightening.

“We’ve got ears, Edge,” Amber snapped. “And eyes. We’re not blind to what goes down around here.”

“You can’t see her,” River said flatly.

“Excuse me?” Regan crossed her arms, all fire and fury. “Since when does the Royal Bastards MC take female prisoners? That’s a new low—even for you.”

“She’s not just any woman,” I said, setting my glass down hard.

They both turned toward me, brows raised.

“She’s my lost soulmate,” I said, voice rough. “The one who ghosted me six years ago. Took my heart. Took everything.”

They gasped.

Regan’s fire cooled to intrigue. Amber actually sat down.

I told them everything—how Skye ran, vanished without a trace, how I searched for her until my soul cracked. How she came back, and it all exploded like a powder keg.

“She’s in the basement because I can’t let her go. Not again,” I finished, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Regan leaned forward slowly. “You want revenge?”

My gaze flicked to her.

“Then don’t chain her to a bed. Chain her heart.”

Amber frowned. “What?”

“Hit her where it hurts,” Regan said, her eyes lit with something wicked. “Fake date someone else. Make love to her. Let her believe in it all again. Then walk away. An eye for an eye, heartbreak for heartbreak.”

My chest tightened.

Edge looked like he wanted to argue. River just raised his glass, letting the thought settle like smoke in the air.

And me?

I wasn’t sure if I wanted revenge.

Or if I wanted her back—no matter the cost.

Before anyone could say more, one of the new pledges rushed in, out of breath.

“There’s a man outside the gate. Says his name’s Malik. Wants to see Skye. Says it’s urgent.”

I barked out a bitter laugh, the glass tight in my hand.

“How many men does she have hooked around her damn finger?”

The room fell quiet.

But all I heard was my pulse roaring like thunder in my ears.

Edge leaned on the bar, eyeing me like he was chewing glass. “You want answers? ”

I nodded slowly, the glass in my hand half-empty and sweating.

“Then let him in,” Edge said, jerking his chin toward the gate. “He knows something. Her secrets. Why she left. We won’t get shit if we keep playing it quiet.”

I studied him for a long second, then gave a sharp nod. “Bring him in. But he doesn’t touch her. He doesn’t even see her.” I roared so loud she heard me.

Edge was already out the door before I finished the sentence.

From the cellar below, I heard it.

Screaming.

Skye’s voice, ragged and raw.

“JD! Please! Don’t hurt him! Don’t touch Malik! He’s the reason I’m still alive!”

The words pierced something in me.

She was crying again. For *him*.

Every muscle in my body went taut.

Malik walked through the clubhouse doors with his head high, jaw clenched. Edge and River flanked him, all three men charged with testosterone and challenge.

I stepped in front of Malik, ready to level him. “You want to explain why she’s chained to a bed in my cellar screaming your name?”

Malik’s face twisted. “Because I protected her from *you*.”

The air snapped with tension.

I lunged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. “You don’t know *me*, brother.”

River stepped up, voice a lethal warning. “You want to threaten someone, you better think real hard about threatening the Royal Bastards MC. ”

Malik shoved me back, chest heaving. “If you touch her again, I swear on my soul, I’ll bury the lot of you.”

Edge’s hand hovered over his blade. “You sure you want to go there?”

Skye screamed again from the cellar, sobbing. “JD! Please! I’ll tell you everything! Just let him go!”

Something cracked inside me.

I stared Malik down for another beat, then stepped back and barked at the boys, “Let him go.”

River cursed under his breath. Malik stormed out of the clubhouse without another word, rage in every step.

I stood there in the silence that followed, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Then I turned and headed back to the cellar—where the answers waited. And so did she.