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Remi

Startled from my sleep, I jolted awake at the sound of buzzing in the air. In my sleepy state, I stretched out my arm, hoping to sense his warmth, but instead, I found a cold, empty bed.

Confused, I struggled to sit upright.

The darkness engulfed me, its weight pressing against me like a suffocating blanket, while a bitter cold seeped into my bones.

My gut instantly clenched, a warning sign that something was seriously off.

Thoughts spun like a cyclone in my mind. A feeling of unease settled in my gut, twisting my stomach into knots.

Exhausted, I ran my hands down my face, as time stared back at me, mocking my lack of sleep. I fixated my gaze on the pitch-black void. A chilling sense of unease washed over me, leaving me to wonder what on earth Max could be up to at three o’clock in the morning.

The buzzing sound grew louder. I instinctively glanced at my phone. The screen suddenly illuminated with an unfamiliar number. Picking it up, I connected the call to hear a gruff male voice utter the unsettling words, “He’s cheating on you.”

Almost immediately, a collection of pictures arrived, blowing up my phone. With each photo I flipped through, I attempted to process and understand the visuals that were unfolding before my eyes.

They made little sense.

I didn’t understand.

Was I dreaming? Was this a nightmare? It had to be, because as I sifted through all the pictures, the truth of what I was seeing hit me, and a single tear traced a path down my face.

I couldn’t look away.

It was impossible.

I needed to see them all.

Every horrible reality.

I needed to be sure.

From the depths of my being, a menacing, unsettling force emerged, causing my stomach to twist with unease and casting a dark shadow over my emotions. It felt as though a mysterious shroud had been lifted, uncovering a previously unknown darkness. The intensity of its fury was so strong that I could almost reach out and touch it.

Furious as its thirst for revenge coursed through my veins.

Ever since he made the decision to allow those fucking sluts back into the clubhouse, his behavior and demeanor had noticeably shifted. The more he drank, the more I found him drawn to the clubhouse, often losing track of time. Foulness emanated from him, like a noxious odor filling the room. He rarely made an appearance at home, becoming more and more elusive. The thought of hearing him say ‘ it’s club business’ yet again, filled me with such anger and frustration that I could almost envision myself smashing my fist into his face.

I wasn’t fucking stupid.

I had spent enough time at the club to distinguish between club matters and everything else. And this shit going on with him had nothing to do with the fucking club.

Motherfucker was hiding something from me.

Something he knew I wouldn’t like.

Now I knew the truth.

It was right there.

In black and white.

A picture was worth a thousand words.

I slid out of bed, gathered my hair and secured it into a ponytail. Since my time in Louisiana, I noticed my hair had grown significantly. Although I missed the wigs that Max’s sister Mia had purchased for me, I was grateful to have my own hair once again.

Grabbing my robe from the end of the bed, I slipped it on and left our bedroom, in search of my wayward husband. After checking on Emma and Jesse, I locked the front door of our home, heading towards the clubhouse. I didn’t know what possessed me to trek in the dead of night to find his ass. Maybe on some level, I wanted to believe it was a lie. That whoever sent me those pictures was lying.

The pull I felt towards the clubhouse was so strong that it felt like I was being almost physically drawn to it.

Growing up, I didn’t have a good childhood.

Some would say it was where horror stories came from. I wouldn’t know. I didn’t watch scary movies. My life was traumatic enough. Didn’t need to see it on television. I’d survived some nasty shit in my life. Beat the odds to find happiness. I had two beautiful children, my sister and brother, and a husband I adored.

Technically, he was on my shit list right now, but I still loved him.

From the moment I met him, I knew he was mine.

I was eight years old. He was fifteen.

We met in the worst place imaginable and survived it. We overcame our past and created our own life. We lived as we wanted and made no excuses. If anyone dared say anything, fuck ‘em.

Let them walk a mile in my shoes and see how they handled shit. Then they could come to me and tell me what I was doing wrong.

I loved my life.

I loved my children, my friends, and my husband.

Now, if I could just find his drunk ass and get him home.

Walking in the back door, I looked around the kitchen, shaking my head. Fuck, Stella was going to be pissed. Some slut was going to have her ass handed to her when Stella saw this mess in the morning.

I didn’t envy those bitches.

Stella was a beast before coffee.

The clubhouse was quiet as I made my way out of the kitchen, passed the infirmary to see Ravage asleep in a chair next to Ink’s sister, Karlyn. She hadn’t woken up from the beating Satan’s Angels gave her. The poor girl was still hanging on.

A fighter, that one.

Passing the security room, I noticed it was empty.

Quietly moving forward, a noise stopped me.

Turning left before the main room, I narrowed my eyes.

The only room down the left corridor was his office. Taking a deep breath, I put one foot in front of the other as my gut screamed at me to turn and run away.

The closer I got, the clearer the noises became.

Stopping before the door, I closed my eyes.

I could hear everything clearly.

Every moan, every grunt, every slap of skin.

I wasn’t fucking stupid. I knew what I would find when I opened the door. Part of me wanted to believe it wasn’t him. That he wouldn’t do that to me. Not after everything we’d been through. I wanted to believe that it was another brother, someone single, just having some fun, but I knew it wasn’t.

With my hand on the doorknob, I slowly turned it.

I opened my eyes and stared.

I didn’t scream.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t do anything.

I just stood there and watched while she fucked my husband.

The smell of booze damn near knocked me on my ass. The lines of white powder on his desk left unattended as she rode his cock for all it was worth.

I wish I could say I walked away and never said a word, but I didn’t. I don’t know what possessed me, but I quietly closed the door, and I walked back to the security office, shutting the door behind me. I wasn’t computer savvy like Matrix or Phantom, but I knew enough.

Bringing up the outside cameras, the kitchen cameras, and his office camera, I took them off-line and deleted the last hour of recordings. When that was done, I turned and walked over to one of three wall cabinets, opened one and took out a Glock. After inserting a full clip, I pulled back on the chamber, loading a bullet. Seeing the silencer, I grabbed it and screwed it onto the barrel of the gun. Leaving the security room, I took my time walking back to his office.

I was in no rush.

In fact, I was calm. Almost at peace with myself, and when I walked into his office, seeing her head thrown back in ecstasy.

I didn’t think.

I raised the gun and shot.

The second she fell to the side, the result of my actions glared at me. My husband. The man I loved above all others sat with his head to the side, blood dripping from the bullet that killed that whore.

Dropping the gun instantly, I stepped back, shaking my head.

Oh God.

What have I done?

With my entire being trembling, I made a swift escape from the clubhouse, refusing to glance back even once. Fear suffocated me. It had to be a dream.

It had to be.

Hurting him was never something I intended or wanted to do. I simply wished for him to feel the same way that I did, so he could fully comprehend my emotions.

I wanted her gone.

Instead, I killed them both because I couldn’t see past the woman he was with.

The man I loved was dead because of me.

I killed him.

I rushed back to my house with my mind in turmoil, trying to rationalize the mistake I had made. To make sense of what I had just done. Nothing came to mind. All I could see was the blood dripping from his head from the shot I fired.

My actions came to a halt the moment I stumbled upon Solomon comfortably seated on the porch.

“He dead?”

I couldn’t speak.

My tears blinded me.

The realization of what I had just done sent my mind into a frenzy, as I tried to process the far-reaching implications. I knew what was coming. I knew the rules. I just killed the President of a motorcycle club. The club would want and demand retribution. Didn’t matter if I was an ol’ lady or not. There were rules set in place for what would happen to anyone who killed a brother of a motorcycle club, even more so if it was the President.

I marked myself.

I knew as soon as the club found him, they would begin their search. Eventually, they would connect the dots that would lead them right to me. I was a dead woman. Didn’t matter if the man was my husband or not. I wasn’t a club brother. I was just the wife. The ol’ lady, the pussy he sunk his dick into. My feelings, thoughts, and life didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“You need to take the kids and leave.”

“I know.”

“Tonight.”

I rushed into the house, Sandman behind me.

It was then that the realization hit me.

Gasping, I turned fast as Sandman gathered me in his arms.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Breathe, Remi. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“I killed him. I killed him, Solomon,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath. I was hyperventilating. My heart was pounding so fiercely that I was certain it would burst through my ribcage. Shaking, I held on to the only man I knew I could trust. “They are going to kill me. When they find out, I’m dead. Who’ll raise my kids? Oh God. Emma and Jesse. What have I done?”

“You’re in shock, Remi. Just take a deep breath for me.”

Doing as he suggested, he released me and looked into my face. Tenderly wiping my eyes, he spoke, “What you did, for whatever reason, is yours alone. You owe no one any apologies. No excuses. Fuck everyone. If you hadn’t of done it, I would have. Now, I need you to go pack a bag for you and the kids. Only what you need. I’ll go get the vehicle. Hurry.”

Moving quickly, I rushed upstairs and quickly dressed. Grabbing a bag out of the closet, I threw in some clothes, then rushed to Emma’s room, doing the same. Gently waking the sleeping girl, I said, “Baby, I need you to wake up. We are leaving. Hurry and get dressed for me.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s staying here, baby. We gotta go.”

Thankfully, Emma didn’t ask me any more questions and did as I asked. Walking into my son’s room, I threw some of his clothes into my bag and zipped it up. Making my way over to the toddler bed, I took a few seconds to look at my sleeping son, who looked so much like his father. Steeling myself, I knew I needed to be strong. Now was not the time to think. Right now, I needed to get Jesse dressed and ready to travel.

With the bare necessities packed, I hefted the bag over my shoulder, picked up my son, grabbed Emma’s hand, and walked downstairs to find Solomon quietly waiting.

He took Jesse and the bag from me, ushering Emma and me in front of him to a waiting vehicle. After securing Jesse, I climbed in behind the wheel and put my seat belt on.

“Head for New York City. Take the back roads. When you get into the city, head for Davenport Tower. Vicious is there. He will know what to do. Don’t call anyone. Don’t stop for anyone and don’t look back.”

“Sunny and Jax?”

“I’ve got them. They are mine to protect now. You take care of Emma and Jesse.”

“Thank you, Solomon.”

He nodded, closing the door.

Putting the vehicle in drive, I did exactly as he instructed.

I didn’t call anyone.

I didn’t stop for anyone, and I never looked back.

Sandman

That same night...

After watching Remi and the kids leave, I headed for the clubhouse.

My night was far from over. Instead of spending the night with my Sunshine, I was cleaning up a mess.

One not of my making.

All because Reaper aligned himself with the wrong person.

Now, he was going to learn what that alliance would cost him.

I could have told him if he asked, but no one ever asked me anything.

A small part of me felt for the man.

A very tiny part.

But he’d made his bed, and now he must lie in it. I didn’t assume to know what he was going to deal with. It wasn’t my concern. All I cared about was making sure everything looked legit and his body got to the right people.

The sooner I did that, the faster I could get back to my Sunshine.

My instructions were clear.

Entering the clubhouse, I headed straight for his office, ready to get to work. Walking over to the whore on the floor, I shook my head. Maxim was going to be pissed. She was one of his girls. A plant to coerce Reaper into doing what they planned. Too bad for them because Reaper always did what he wanted. I could have told them that if they asked me. But no one ever asked me shit.

Looking at my former president, I sighed. “You made a deal with the Devil and look where it got you. Why didn’t you just take her and leave?”

Shaking my head, I was about to lift him when I saw his chest move. Placing my finger on his jugular, I sighed. “You lucky son of a bitch.”

Turning away from him, I reached for my phone and dialed Montana. As soon as the phone connected, I stated, “It’s done. She saw and left. But we have another problem.”

“What now?”

“Remi shot Maxim’s whore. The bullet went through her into him.”

“So, he’s dead, then?”

“No. Lucky fucker is alive.”

“Shit,” Montana cursed. “I can’t have him going after her. He will fuck everything up.”

“Not my problem.”

“It will be if this plan goes to shit and we all end up dead. How long before the club wakes up?”

“Five hours, maybe more.”

“I’m sending you help. You will know him on sight. So, sit tight. Where is Remi now?”

“Headed your way.”

“Good.” Montana sighed. “Keep your phone by you.”

I growled, then disconnected the call.

I hated that son of a bitch. I hated everything about the man and his fucking club. The Soulless Sinners were not what everyone believed them to be. They were fucking worse.

A few hours later, I received a text from Montana with more instructions when movement behind me had me spinning as a brother I hadn’t seen in a very long time stood, staring at our president.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I knew shit was getting bad, but I never expected this. What the fuck happened?”

Getting to my feet, I stated, “Doesn’t matter. Just need to make it look legit. Did you bring it?”

“Yeah,” Massacre whispered.

I hadn’t seen him since the wedding.

He looked good and healthy.

More importantly, he was alive.

Reaching into his cut, he produced a syringe. “This should knock him out for a good twelve hours. You need to make sure Ghost calls for the police and the coroner removes him before he wakes up.”

“Will wake Ghost after you leave,” I muttered, looking around the room. “What are you going to do with him?”

“Montana wants him at the Soulless Sinners’ compound in New York City under lock and key.”

“Reaper ain’t gonna like that.”

“No, he is not.” Massacre sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we’ve all come too far to turn back now. Montana has assured me he will keep his oath to Reaper and protect Remi. He’s calling in a marker to ensure her safety. What are you going to tell the others?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing. They never ask me anything.”

It was the truth... they didn’t.