Page 6 of Vengeance

"You weren't there," she said. He frowned at her. "When I was taken—you weren’t there.”

"You don't know that,” he said.

"No." She shook her head slowly. "I would've remembered you."

Pain flashed across his face so quickly she almost missed it. “I’m betting that you remember enough about it."

"I remember monsters." It felt as though no one in the room took a breath. Vengeance looked like someone had punched him square in the chest.

"You should." His voice had gone rough. “Because they were monsters."

Bowie folded his arms over his chest. "You're saying you were one of them?"

"No,” he breathed.

"Are you saying you weren't?" The room fell silent, and Chloe felt her heartbeat pounding harder. Why wouldn't he answer? If he wasn't involved, he'd just say so—right?

Vengeance finally spoke. "I've spent most of my adult life trying to make sure I'm nothing like the people who raised me." Goosebumps raced across her arms as a sick feeling settled in her stomach. It was like he was dancing around something enormous.

"You keep talking in circles," she whispered.

"Because the truth is complicated,” Vengeance insisted.

"No," Bowie said. "The truth usually isn't."

Vengeance laughed, but he didn’t sound amused. "It is when your last name gets people killed."

The words hit Chloe. What did he mean by his last name getting people killed? She tried to remember if he’d given her his last name and realized they still only knew him as Vengeance. She knew nothing about him—not his family or his club.

"What is your last name?" she asked.

He hesitated long enough that Bowie seemed to notice. "Yeah," Bowie growled. "Let's start there."

Another long silence before he said, "I just go by Vengeance."

Bowie rolled his eyes. "Give her your full name, kid."

"I haven't used it in years,” he said.

"Why not?" Bowie asked. Chloe was pretty sure that her dad knew exactly why he wouldn’t tell her his full name, and he was fucking with him now. But if Vengeance was right, they didn’t have time for games.

"Because I hate the man who gave it to me,” Vengeance spat. Chloe watched every tiny movement on his face and noticed his tight jaw, exhausted eyes, and the way his fingers flexed against the edge of the bar like he wanted to hit something—or someone.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked softly.

His eyes found hers again. "I'm not afraid for me."

"Then who are you afraid for?” she asked.

"You,” he said simply. Her breath caught. "If you knew who I really am, you'd never believe another word I say."

Before anyone could respond, the unmistakable rumble of motorcycles echoed outside. It sounded like there were dozens of them, and every Royal Bastard in the room instinctively reached for a weapon as the clubhouse went deadly quiet.

A prospect sprinted through the front door, breathing hard. "Bowie!"

"What?" Bowie growled.

"There's a convoy pulling onto the property,” the prospect said.