Page 39 of Cold Bastard
I lifted my head, staring at the barred window, at the sliver of night sky visible beyond it. There was no way out. No escape. No rescue. No hope. My mind screamed for defiance, for a spark of rebellion, but my body remained captive. The only power I had left was to choose how I faced this, and the thought of clinging to what dignity I had left felt foolish, like a painful indulgence I couldn’t afford.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall and waited for whatever came next, a hollow shell bracing for a future that felt like a preordained failure.
Chapter Thirteen
Nano
Church smelled like stale smoke and old leather as I sat in my usual spot, the third chair down on the right side of the table, and kept my expression neutral. Bored, even. Like I hadn’t spent half the night jacking off to the memory of choking a woman unconscious. Like my knuckles weren’t still bruised from slamming her against the wall. Like I couldn’t still feel the phantom sensation of her pulse failing under my palm.
Morpheus sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled in front of him. To his right sat Cerberus, our VP, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. To his left, Carver, the club’s doctor and resident voyeur, leaned back in his chair with that lazy, predatory grin he always wore when shit was about to get interesting.
Wanderer, Garrote, and the other officers filled the rest of the seats. Only two seats remained empty. One belonging to Inferno, the club’s lieutenant who had disappeared after the Death Dogs attacked the clubhouse, taking Zephyr with them. And Firestride’s seat. Our brother and Morpheus’ cousin, who was badly wounded and left for dead in the attack on the Silver Shadows’ clubhouse weeks ago.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Morpheus began, his voice flat and commanding. “We’ve got a problem. Her name’s AlexandraJones. Bitch stole seventy-five million dollars from us, and she’s currently locked in a room upstairs.”
“Why not in the freezer?” Heretic, the club’s attorney asked.
Morpheus grumbled as he looked at me. “She’s Poseidon’s little sister.”
Silence.
Vortex let out a low whistle. “Gods of Mayhem?”
“Yeah,” Morpheus confirmed, his eyes narrowing as he drummed his fingers on the table.
“Fuck,” Wanderer muttered. “That complicates things.”
“No shit.” Cerberus smirked, shaking his head. “We’ve got a treaty with those fuckers. We can’t just put a bullet in her head and dump her in a ditch.”
“Why the fuck not?” Scythe asked. “Bitch stole from us. That’s a death sentence in any other situation.”
“Because Zeus would consider it an act of war,” Morpheus said, his tone making it clear the discussion was over before it started. “And we’re not going to war with the Gods of Mayhem over one stupid bitch, no matter how much money she took. Got enough on our plate already with the Death Dogs.”
“So what are our options?” Wanderer asked.
Morpheus leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Heretic?”
The club’s attorney sighed. “We’re limited. The treaty says we can’t kill her. Can’t permanently maim her. Can’t sell her to a cartel or a trafficking ring. Basically, we can’t do anything that would leave visible, lasting damage.”
“That’s bullshit,” Garrote said.
“That’s politics,” Morpheus corrected. “Poseidon doesn’t give a fuck about his sister. He made that clear when he allowed her to run away from the clubhouse. But if we kill her, he has to respond. It’s about respect. About maintaining the balance.”
I stayed silent, my hands flat on the table in front of me.
My pulse was steady. My expression blank.
But inside, something coiled tight.
Mine.The thought had been circling my brain since last night. Since I felt her throat under my hand. Since I had come so hard that I saw stars. She was mine. And nobody was going to take her away from me.
“So what do we do with her?” Wanderer asked. “Keep her locked up? Make her work off the debt?”
“Seventy-five million dollars.” Scythe smirked, his grin widening as he rubbed his chin. “That’s a lot of work. She’d have to suck a lot of dick to pay that back.”
A few of the brothers chuckled.
I didn’t.
