Page 20 of Unmasked Anarchy (Fallen Sons MC #3)

T he next few weeks are somewhat chaotic.

Gage hasn’t reached out, and I’m not certain if that makes me happy or nervous.

I just can’t see a world where he simply accepts me leaving and does nothing about it.

But still, why hasn’t he even tried to reach out?

I don’t want complications, but after all these years, it’s a knife to the gut knowing he doesn’t seem to give a crap.

Kael has doubled down trying to find who hurt me, and so far has come up empty.

There seems to be little movement on that side of things.

The police have asked a million questions, but the second they realized I was an old lady, their interest changed.

It’s as if I’m not worth looking into anymore.

Just because I belong to a biker doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of the same care as the rest of the world.

Wolfe has decided to move the remaining guns in the warehouse.

He’s nervous, the cops have been sniffing around and even hit them with a raid a few nights ago.

Of course they came up empty. The club isn’t stupid enough to leave anything on the compound for them to find.

They’re closing in though, and Wolfe wants to get away from guns for a while until the heat dies down.

So tonight they’re going on a ride to move the final product.

Kael takes his time readying for the run, and I find myself watching from the edge of the kitchen.

He always makes a fucking mess, leaving a trail of empty coffee cups, granola bar wrappers, and his cut tossed over the back of the nearest barstool.

The others are more meticulous—Wolfe constantly rearranges his guns, Knox sharpens his knives like the world is out to get the edge of them, and Talon, well, he just sits on the porch, staring out past the bikes like he’s waiting for someone to walk up and start a war.

The plan is simple. Go to the warehouse, load up the guns, get it out of town before the cops get wind of anything solid.

This is the last run until the heat dies down, and everyone’s acting .

.. well, tense. It’s all hands on deck for the ride, so we are staying behind, ordered to stay indoors until they get back. A girls night sounds pretty good to me.

They leave right after sundown. Kael’s “See you soon, baby,” is accompanied by a quick squeeze of my ass and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The place is suddenly too quiet. Just Nia, Mera, and me.

They set up in the lounge with a bottle of gin, pizza and a hell of a lot of girly movies that I haven’t seen half of.

That’s shameful.

I pour myself a drink while Nia tries to teach Mera how to make cocktails using only what we have on hand, which is a grotesque mix of a blue sports drink, gin, some questionable triple sec, and a bag of candy I didn’t know we had.

Mera jokes about death by sugar, but she drinks it anyway.

We spend the next few hours drinking and laughing, getting lost in the time we actually get to spend together.

It’s about half past ten, and my head swims in that awkward between-place, too buzzy to sleep but too tired to keep caring about these movies.

Needing some fresh air, I go outside, standing in the common area and sucking in the cool night air.

That’s when I notice them. Dark shapes edging along the front fence.

At first I think it’s animals, until the glimmer of steel flashes.

Whoever it is, they’re armed.

I turn and rush inside, closing the door and locking it before yelling, “Mera, Nia, someone’s out front,” but I already hear boots stomping the porch.

The locks do little to stop them entering, and after three solid kicks, it swings open.

Mera has just pulled her phone out, but the moment she sees the four-armed men, she drops it.

None of us scream. For a second nobody moves. Then Mera grabs Nia by the wrist and tries to pull her behind the bar, but a man with a chain in his hand barks, “Stay where you are!” in a voice so cold, I actually freeze.

“All of you, down,” the one with the bat snarls, motioning to the floor.

Nia is crying now, but she’s silent, her shoulders shaking.

The glass tumbles from her hand and rolls under the table.

Mera moves in front of her, arms spread.

I get down, but not before memorizing every detail—the way the tallest one limps, a tattoo of barbed wire around the wrist, the shoes, the smell, and the way none of them look at us head-on.

“We can do this the nice way, or the difficult way,” a man growls.

I glance at Mera and her eyes are on me, wide. I mouth that it’s going to be okay, but I’m not sure I actually believe that.

“One of you is going to take a beating and deliver a message to the club. Either we choose, or you do. You have five seconds.”

I am moving before he has even finished his sentence. Mera cries out to me, but I don’t stop.

“There’s a good girl.”

I hold my breath, my stomach twisting. From the corner of my eye, I can see Mera slowly inching toward her phone.

Chain-Guy moves behind me and wraps the cold links around my arms, pinning me before I can react.

Bat-Guy lands a punch to my ribs, sharp and deliberate.

I gasp, fold over, and he hauls me back upright by my hair.

They work me over, not random, but clever—kidneys, ribs, cheekbone, shoulder. I stay standing as long as I can.

Nia is crying out.

Mera is screaming at them to stop.

I have stopped screaming, there is no point.

Gun-Guy kicks my knee and I crumple finally, landing on my hands and knees with a wail. He leans down near my ear, breath hot and mean, and says, “Tell them to back the fuck off. Next time, we burn it down. That’s a promise.”

He wipes the gun on my shirt and the three of them back out, bat dragging over the furniture and anything else they can get their hands on, smashing things until they’re satisfied.

Then they’re gone. Mera and Nia don’t move for several seconds.

Someone is making a high whining noise, and I realize it’s me.

Rushing over, they help me sit up. “Oh God, Sable. Why would you do that?”

Mera rests my head in her lap while Nia gets a warm washcloth.

“I wasn’t going to let them hurt you,” I croak. “Or Nia.”

Tears roll down Mera’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Nia returns, dropping to her knees and pressing the warm washcloth to my bloody face. “They want us to go to the shed and lock down.”

Mera nods. “Do you think you can walk?”

Honestly, no, but I will.

They help me up, pain coming in waves. We don’t talk.

Every sound outside seems ten times louder.

The house is trashed, splintered wood and smashed glass everywhere.

We manage to make it to the shed where we sit and wait, unable to do anything more.

Mera lays me on the sofa and I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the agony getting increasingly worse with every passing second.

Soon after, the roar of bikes fills the night, headlights flooding every window. Kael is first through the door, gun drawn, and I see his eyes go flat when he sees me laid out on the sofa. He is beside me in three strides, dropping down and taking my face in his hands. “Who the fuck did this?”

“Four men,” I croak. “No accent. Faces covered. Said it was a message to the club.”

Wolfe is already on his phone, yelling at someone that he wants names, not excuses, and to run every camera on the street. Kael pulls me into him, holding me there like I might break. Then he releases me and turns to Zane. “First aid, pain killers, whiskey. Now.”

I should probably go to a hospital, but I know how this works.

“Warehouse?” I ask, voice cracking. “Did you make it?”

“Gone. Whole place was rigged and blew when we arrived. We lost everything.”

Oh, God.

This is bad.

He presses his forehead to mine, and for the first time, I see him scared.

Not for himself, but for me, for all of us.

The game just changed, and judging by the look in his eyes, nobody is going to sleep until there’s blood on the ground.

Zane returns with everything Kael asked for, and they get to work cleaning me up.

Nia cleans my face as best she can, hands trembling, and Mera gives me painkillers and a shot of the most awful tasting whiskey. The boys don’t even look at the mess in the house. They are too busy trying to find out who the hell came in. I am slowly drifting into a drug-induced daze.

“Why only her?” I hear Kael ask as my eyelids grow heavy.

“She volunteered herself so we wouldn’t get hurt. She didn’t want to see us touched. I ... I’m so sorry, Kael. She is something else,” Mera whispers.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, stroking some hair off my forehead. “She is.”

Then everything goes black.

~*~*~*~*~

T HE NEXT FEW DAYS ARE a blur.

I am in and out, dosed up on pain meds. There is no damage to the outside of my body aside from a couple of bruises, but the inside is a whole other story. Every movement hurts, and with each passing hour, I feel like I’m getting stiffer and stiffer.

Kael is by my side every second.

Until he isn’t.

I don’t know when it changes, or why, I just know it does.

He is called for Church, where they need to discuss something serious.

When he returns, something isn’t right. He’s distant and agitated, his eyes raking over me with something I haven’t seen before—distrust. Maybe it’s the drugs, or maybe I’m just being too sensitive, but something does not feel right.

“Get up,” he says, his voice isn’t hard, but it isn’t soft either.

He is standing in the doorway, arms crossed. I do ask he asks, confused.

“Is everything okay?” I whisper.

“Just get up.”

Something is wrong.

I move slowly. He waits until my feet hit the floor before turning and heading out, and I have no choice but to follow.

I want to reach for his hand, but it hangs at his side, fisted so tightly I can see the veins straining under his skin.

The clubhouse is full of men. Not regular faces.

I can’t name most of them, these new shadows lurking in the doorways, but each one narrows in on me, their stares heavy, unblinking.

Kael leads me past the bar to the room they use for Church, the only space in the club that is out of bounds to anyone but the club.

It consists of long, wooden table, mismatched chairs, and memorabilia all over the walls.

Wolfe is at the head of the table, cigarette in hand, watching as we walk in.

Around him, the table is full, a wall of men, silent.

I try to sit, but Kael steers me to the single chair at the table’s end, then stands behind me with his arms folded.

I am shaking but I try not to let it show.

I don’t know what the hell is going on.

Wolfe meets my gaze. “You know why you’re here?”

I shake my head.

Wolfe narrows his eyes. “You sure about that?”

My teeth hurt from clenching. “Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

He leans in, elbows on the table. “We had no problems, then you came in and the cops find out our location, we get raided, the warehouse blows, and men enter our club while we aren’t here. Ain’t never had anything like that happen. Care to tell me how you fit into all of that?”

I feel it now, a sick heaviness in my belly. “You think I’m a rat.” I manage to keep my voice steady, even though the ground under me is crumbling.

He blinks, once. “You tell us.”

I stare at him, then at Kael. Kael can’t even look at me.

I want to scream, but all I can do is dig my nails into my palms, hot wetness burning at the corners of my eyes. “If I was a rat, why would I have let you know the police were coming? Why would I have let myself get beat up? That makes no sense.”

Knox, from down the table, laughs, a sound with no humor in it. “It makes perfect sense. Makes you look loyal. Makes us trust you.”

I shake my head, the world jarring. My throat closes. “I would never ...”

“Club voted.” Wolfe’s voice cuts right through me. “We’re not taking chances. You’re going into lockdown until we sort this out.”

I lurch out of my chair. “Kael.” My voice breaks now, shatters on his name. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

But he won’t look at me. He stands there, arms folded, head turned away, jaw locked so tight I think he might snap.

“Fuck you,” I spit in his direction. “I trusted you.”

I start for the door but Talon is there, hand on my shoulder, guiding me away. I jerk away. “I can fucking walk on my own.”

Zane follows us, a shadow at my back. The hallway shrinks with each step, the faces on the walls a blur.

I’m so hurt my chest feels like it might cave in on itself.

Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I have never felt something so bitter in all my life.

They steer me to a small locked room at the back of the clubhouse.

It has enough, a small bed, bathroom and a desk.

The window is barred, but at least it opens.

“What the hell?”

It’s Mera’s voice, loud and piercing.

I see her stop behind Zane and her arms are crossed over her chest.

“Not your concern,” Talon grinds out.

Zane doesn’t look at her.

“Fucked if it’s not my concern. What the hell are you locking her in there for? She is injured.”

“She’s a fuckin’ rat,” Talon spits.

“I’m not,” I cry. “I would never do that.”

Mera looks to me, her eyes softening. “I’ll talk to Wolfe. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

Talon steps out, slamming the door.

It locks and I am left alone.

I fall to my knees and cry.

How the hell did I go from bliss to hell in a matter of days?

Why do I have a feeling Gage is behind all of this?