Page 13 of Unmasked Anarchy (Fallen Sons MC #3)

I lock myself in the storage shed and breathe, just once, to steady my nerves.

The rifle Kael handed me is heavy. My hands know how to move around a long gun, it’s almost muscle memory.

The click of the safety, the cold black of the barrel.

I check: loaded, round chambered. Through the windows of the shed, I study the scene.

Wolfe’s men assembling in the open, the two men out front barking threats, Mera’s red hair clenched in the fist of a stranger who hasn’t lived long enough to hate the world properly.

I do quick math, making sure I’m in the perfect position.

The men are screaming for their guns, and the MC boys are tossing weapons out, but they want more, they want their stash, the ones they are selling.

Zane looks ready to charge regardless, but Kael, posted just behind a line of barrels, holds him back with a quick snap of his fingers.

I can’t hear what’s said, but I know he isn’t going to risk Mera’s life.

Closer to the gate, the second Cartel guy prowls, waving his piece at the crew and barking in Spanish.

He’s sloppier than the man on Mera, keeps his finger way off the trigger, always looking behind him like he expects company.

Rookie. That’s a good thing. It means I only need a clean shot on the guy with Mera—the second one will go down easy.

The man holding Mera barks, “Eighty seconds to comply or I blow her fucking head off. I want your entire stash. Here. Now.” I listen as the club drags out their arsenal, stacking it in the dirt. A black duffel bag, a scatter of handguns, a dozen gleaming rifles.

If they count them, they will know one is missing.

Because it is in my hands right now.

I shift toward the open window, leaning down and angling the rifle on a crate.

My old man used to say, “You aim to shoot once, and once only. Any more than that, and you’ve failed.

” I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.

Either way, my hands are steady and my whole body is glass, waiting for the right moment.

Mera isn’t crying, not even fighting, just standing with her chin up, glare set on the man’s face.

She’s a god damned warrior.

I know how scared she is, but she’s refusing to show it.

My finger slips easy onto the trigger. I drop my eye down to the scope, carefully placing it on the man’s temple, waiting for the right shot. If he twitches, if he even flinches, Mera’s face is gone. I have one shot. One only.

He screams the count: “Fifty, forty-nine...”

The other guy bends to the duffel, raking through the pile, barely looking at the crowd. His head is right down, offering me a clear line to move to him once I take the main man out.

I take a deep, shaky breath.

The world goes quiet. I aim for the man holding Mera, lining him up perfectly, and squeeze.

The gun cracks.

The echo is a whip of lightning and the man doesn’t even realize what has happened.

He drops before the blood even stains his shirt.

Mera falls, knees hitting the ground, and Wolfe’s men are already moving before the echo fades.

The second guy leaps up, but he has no chance.

I have him down before he even takes a step.

It goes quiet. For a second, nobody moves. Then all at once, the club is in motion, charging like rabid dogs. Kael’s already halfway to the gate by the time I prop the rifle and push up, and I run, body on auto, into the bright air.

Mera is coughing, streaked in blood that isn’t hers. She’s already up, being pulled behind the wall by Zane, who swears so much half the words are lost. The rest of the MC swarms the dead first guy, stomping and spitting even though he’s already out of this world.

Kael’s eyes find me over the blur and motion and noise.

He walks, not runs, up to where I stand in the open, my chest rising and falling with a mix of adrenaline and relief.

His face is a storm of things I can’t read, but he doesn’t say anything at first. He just stops and stares down at me with pure confusion.

“Who the fuck are you?” he says after a long time. Not angry. Just in complete shock.

I shrug, because there’s nothing to say. I don’t know who I am.

I just know I can shoot a gun.

Wolfe, Mera, and Steel walk over to me, their eyes wide with something I can’t quite understand.

Wolfe steps forward, his eyes narrowed. “You do that?”

I nod, swallowing.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Ain’t never seen someone shoot a gun like that before. We’re goin’ to talk about how you learned that, but for right now, I am forever fuckin’ grateful.”

Mera launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, squeezing as tight as her shaking hands allow. “You saved my life, you fucking crazy, gun-wielding legend.”

I laugh.

Zane lets out a whistle, walking over, pulling a cigarette out and pressing it to his lips. “She just put a hole in two men and didn’t even flinch. Fuckin’ hell, Thorn, you really know how to pick ’em.”

It gets crazy after that, the MC boys start bagging up the bodies, prepping for the cleanup crew, and the girls swarm around Mera and me, half-hysterical, half-starstruck. Their voices moving at a rapid pace, asking a million questions I can’t answer.

I need to sit, so I find myself a log by the fire, planting my butt down and exhaling.

Kael finds me, sitting down and pulling a joint out of his cut, lighting it before taking a deep inhale.

Then, he offers it to me. I take it without thought, my nerves are shot.

I have killed for Gage, more times than I can count, but it doesn’t even feel good.

“You want to talk about it?” Kael murmurs, low.

I shake my head, needing a few more minutes of silence.

We sit quietly for a long time until Zane comes outside, a huge grin on his face, his hair messier than ever, his shirt ripped open. “Party’s turning into an orgy,” he reports, grinning wide. “You two coming in, or you want me to bring snacks out here?”

Kael grunts, a faint smirk on his face. “We’re good, man.”

“For real, Sable,” Zane says, “you ever want a job, you got it.”

I laugh. “Noted.”

He leaves and Kael turns toward me. He reaches over and tilts my face to his so I can’t look anywhere but him.

“You okay?” he asks, voice not as soft as he thinks.

I try to say yes. It comes out as a laugh. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

He looks at me, really looks, then runs his finger over my bottom lip. “You scare the shit out of me, but fuck, I want you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

My breath hitches.

I wait for him to pull away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that curls my toes. I let him, because if there’s a better way to forget the last few years of my life, I haven’t found it yet.

I am so wrong, I know it.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

But I can’t make myself stop.

I just want to taste him for a second longer.

The kiss deepens, and before I know it, he’s pulling me onto his lap, my knees either side of his hips.

Kael's hands knot in the back of my shirt. The fabric digs up under my arms, his knuckles firm and hot against my skin. He breathes into me, filling the empty places. My knees get braver, clamping tighter around his hips, and I can feel exactly what he wants from me, nothing subtle about it. The air slips cold under my shirt but his hands are so hot I swear I’m burning.

My own hands wander, fingers skating up underneath the hem of his tee, mapping scars and muscle, the ridges and valleys of him that could be anyone’s, but he lets them be mine, just for now.

There’s a vulnerability in this moment, a shared intimacy that feels both fragile and profound.

It’s as if time stands still, the world outside fading into insignificance.

He lifts me with a growl so low, so sexy, it sends a jolt right to my core.

He crosses the compound in a few long strides, reaching the shed and knocking aside a bucket and half-empty bag of potting soil, mouths never parting, my back slamming against the wall.

The rawness of it shocks a gasp out of me.

He grins against my mouth, biting my lip, waiting for me to run.

I don’t.

I should.

But I don’t.

He pins me there, hips hard against mine.

I want him, so fucking bad it burns. His hands, his mouth, they’re everywhere.

I arch into him, the ache roaring between my legs so loudly I could scream.

He groans again, low and brutal, and it’s my name.

He rakes his teeth over my neck and my moans turn into desperate whimpers.

His hand slips down under the waistband of my jeans.

His fingers are cold at first, then hot as he swipes them up my pussy, running his thumb over my clit.

It feels so fucking good, but the second his fingers are inside me, everything shifts and a wave of guilt surges through me, causing my entire body to freeze.

I shake my head, tears bursting forth. He releases me without question, without guilt. I stumble backward, pressing my hands to my face, sobbing in a way that is in no way attractive.

“Darlin’,” his voice comes out soft, kind, far too good for me. “It’s okay.”

What a goddamned disaster I am.

And a terrible wife.

“I need to go,” I croak, fixing my clothes. “I don’t want to be this person. I can’t be this person.”

He watches me, the blue of his eyes sharp as ice, then nods, like he gets it.

I turn and run out of the compound.

Not looking back.

Even though I desperately want to.

~*~*~*~*~

I ARRIVE BACK HOME as the sun is rising and the world is quiet. Walking into the clubhouse feels wrong, on so many levels, but I have to talk to Gage. Clearly things aren’t where they need to be, because if they were, I wouldn’t even be thinking about Kael.

Maybe it’s time the relationship comes to an end.

The thought hurts, something I don’t fully understand.

I don’t want to be with Gage anymore, so why does it hurt to think of never seeing him again?

I make my way slowly into the compound and through the house, full of bodies and spilt beer.

Reaching Gage’s room, I open the door and the first thing I see is a bare leg hanging off the side of the mattress.

A woman’s leg, smooth and tanned. For a second I think I’ve walked into the wrong room.

Then I see the second woman, slung across Gage’s chest, her bare bottom on display.

Gage is flat on his back, his hands resting on her lower back.

His mouth is slack, and he’s completely at ease, and the sight of it makes my stomach twist. It hurts in a way that has a pain shooting right to my heart.

It feels like I’ve been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer, every inch of my body frozen in place.

I cry out, unable to stop it.

The sound is a mix of pain and shock, maybe a little acceptance.

Gage’s eyes open slowly, and when he notices me there, he shoots up, sending the girl lying across him tumbling to the floor.

“Jesus fuck, Sable,” he growls. He doesn’t bother to hide his naked body, or the condom that is still attached to his god damned dick.

I want to scream. Instead, I slam the door so hard the wood groans and I’m certain it wakes everyone in the house.

My feet pound down the hallway, not knowing where I’m going, just needing out, needing air.

I make it as far as the patch of grass outside the clubhouse before I hear him behind me, his footsteps loud.

“Wait,” he barks.

I whirl, fists balled at my sides. “Is this where we’re at?” I cry. “Is this who we’ve become? You didn’t even try to hide it, but that’s the point, isn’t it? You wanted me to see. Wanted me to hurt. Fuck you, Gage. Fuck every single fucking second I have wasted trying to love you.”

He’s shirtless, hair wild from sleep, a pair of unbuttoned jeans hanging off his hips. He is so fucking perfect, and it hurts how much I still want him. “Don’t act like you weren’t doin’ the exact same thing last night,” he says, voice low and flat. “Tell me, Sable, whose cock was in my wife?”

“You’re right.” I laugh bitterly. “I was with him, and you know what, I let him put his mouth on me, his fingers in my pussy, but I stopped him. I stopped him because I felt guilty. I guess I should have let him go on.”

His jaw flexes, that vein in his neck threatening to burst. “You fuckin’ ...”

“What?” I challenge, stepping up to his face. “What, Gage? You fucked two different women last night. At least I tried to stop it. Fuck, I don’t even know why. All these years I have tried so desperately to love you, but I should have run when I had the chance. You’re not fucking worth it.”

He lunges so fast I don’t have time to scream. One hand locks around my throat, the other slams me back against the clubhouse wall so hard my teeth slam together. “You think I’m just goin’ to let you run to him?” His grip tightens just to the edge of pain. “You belong to me. You always have.”

“I want him to fuck me, Gage. God, I wanted it so fucking bad.”

I know I’m pushing his buttons.

I don’t care.

He lets go, steps back, hands trembling. He’s breathing like he’s been running, chest heaving. Then he laughs, a sick, small sound. “You really are just a gash, aren’t you?”

I want to cry but I don’t. “I hate you,” I whisper. “Do you hear me? I fucking hate you.”

He looks at me—really looks, and for once I can’t read what’s in his eyes. “No, you don’t,” he says, softer now, like I’ve taken something from him and he’s just realizing it. “You’re not leaving me, Sable. I’ll kill him for putting hands on you. Do you hear me?”

“You don’t get a choice.”

I turn on my heel, walking toward the gates.

He’s behind me again, fingers curling around my upper arm as he swings me toward him. “You are not fuckin’ leavin’ me.”

“Yes,” I hiss. “I am. I fucking am. I’m done with you. I should have left years ago. I stayed, god knows why. You never loved me, Gage. Not for a single fucking second.”

“You’re wrong,” he barks, “I love you so fuckin’ much it has marked my fuckin’ soul until the day I die.”

I suck in a breath.

He has never, not even once, told me he loves me. Not like this. Not in a way where I can see it in his eyes. It twists me up, my stomach forming tiny knots as confusion washes over me. All I ever wanted was for him to tell me those words and mean them, to look at me like he is right now.

“It’s too late,” I whisper, a tear rolling down my cheeks.

I jerk my arm out of his.

Then I turn and run.

“If you go to him, I’ll fuckin’ make them wish they never met you,” he roars.

I don’t look back.

I hear the sound of a bike crashing to the ground and Gage’s angry bellow.

I just keep running.

Maybe for the final time.