Page 61 of Slaughter
The truck swerved slightly as Zeke’s head whipped toward me, his eyes wide with shock and rage. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” I lifted my chin, refusing to back down. “I wanted him, Zeke. I chose him. And I’d choose him again.”
For a moment, I thought he might pull over and throw me out of the truck. His face had gone red, his breathing harsh and uneven. But he just turned back to the road, his hands gripping the wheel so hard I thought it might crack.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said again, his voice low and dangerous. “No idea what this means.”
“Then tell me.” I leaned forward, my voice rising. “Stop talking in circles and just tell me what I’m supposed to be so afraid of.”
“The Golden Line-Up.” His words came out flat, final. “That’s what you should be afraid of.”
My stomach dropped. I had heard the term before. Whispered conversations between Ghost and Zeke, late-night phone calls that ended abruptly when I walked into the room. But I never knew what it meant.
“What is that?” I asked quietly.
Zeke’s laugh was bitter. “It’s what happens when a brother violates a Golden Rule. When he touches a sister without permission, without going through the proper channels. The entire club lines up, and they beat the shit out of him. One by one. Until he can’t stand anymore.”
The image hit me like a physical blow. Chapman, already bruised and bleeding from the fight yesterday, facing down an entire club of men intent on punishing him. For me. For choosing me.
“No.” The word came out as a whisper, then louder. “No. They can’t do that.”
“They can. And they will.” Zeke’s voice was hard, unyielding. “Reaper will demand it. Ghost will back him. And Chapman will have to take it, because that’s the price for what he did.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong!” My voice cracked, tears burning behind my eyes. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”
“You broke the rules, Hope. Both of you. And there are consequences.”
“I don’t care about the consequences!” I was shouting now, my voice filling the cab of the truck. “I don’t care about their rules or their protocols or their fucking Golden Line-Up! I love him, Zeke! Do you hear me? Ilovehim!”
The truck swerved again, pulling onto the drive that led to the farmhouse before he slammed on the brakes so hard I was thrown forward against the seatbelt. Dust billowed around us as he threw the truck into park and turned to face me, his eyes blazing. “You love him?” His voice was dangerously quiet. “You’ve known him for what, a few weeks? And you think that’s love?”
“Yes.” I met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “I know it is.”
“You’re a child.”
“I’m twenty-eight years old!”
“Then stop acting like a lovesick teenager!” He was shouting now too, his control finally snapping. “You think love is enough? You think it matters that you have feelings for him? It doesn’t! Not in this world! Not when you’re dealing with the MC!”
“Then maybe I don’t want to be part of this world!” The words tore out of me, raw and desperate as I saw our sisters walk out onto the front porch. “Maybe I’m tired of living by rules I never agreed to! Maybe I’m tired of being told who I can and can’t love because of some bullshit protocol!”
“Those bullshit protocols are what keep you safe!” Zeke’s voice was shaking. “They’re what keep men like Slaughter from taking advantage of women like you!”
“He didn’t take advantage of me!” I was crying now, tears streaming down my face. “He loves me,” I snapped, yanking at my seatbelt. “I know he does.” I didn’t want to talk about this with him anymore. He wasn’t listening to me and nothing I said would make him see things differently.
I shoved the truck door open and jumped out, my legs shaky beneath me. The morning air was cool against my skin, carrying the scent of earth and growing things. I just needed to get inside. Needed to get away from him, from his words, from the weight of everything that had just happened. But I had barely taken three steps when I heard his door slam and his boots hitting the gravel behind me.
“Hope, wait—”
“Leave me alone, Zeke.” I kept walking, my eyes fixed on the porch steps ahead.
Faith, Charity, and Joy were standing on the porch, all three of them watching with pale, worried faces. They must have heard the truck pull up. Must have been waiting, wondering what had happened. I could see the questions in their eyes. The concern. The fear.
I just needed to get past them. Needed to get inside and lock myself in the bathroom and—Zeke’s hand closed around my arm, spinning me around to face him. “Don’t walk away from me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“Let go of me.” I tried to pull free, but his grip tightened.
“Not until you understand what you’ve done. Not until you understand what thismeans.”
