Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Highway

Tears stream down Missy's face as she backs away from me, shaking uncontrollably. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold it together.

"What the fuck happened?" I ask, my voice steely with confusion and concern.

"Does it matter? You're going to be on her side!" she screams, her voice raw with pain. "Lyric…" she spits out the name as if it's poison. "She's been here all of a hot minute, and she's one of us?" She points to herself, her hand trembling. "I've cooked, cleaned, and fucked most of you, but I'm still Missy. I'm still overlooked and treated like garbage."

I shake my head, feeling a pang of guilt. "I sent Lyric in here to check up on you and make sure you're okay. You're not overlooked, Missy."

Her voice drops to a whisper, her eyes fixed on the floor. "But I'm not one of you either."

She looks defeated, her spirit crushed, and although I don't like seeing her like this, she had a knife in her hand when I walked in. I step closer, but she flinches, so I stop.

"Missy, please look at me," I whisper. "You're important to us."

She lifts her eyes, filled with tears and hurt. "You say that, but it doesn't feel true. When Lyric showed up, everything changed. She fits in so easily like she was meant to be here."

I reach out, hesitating, before gently placing my hand on her shoulder. "Lyric's presence doesn't change your value. You've been with us for years."

Her lips tremble as she tries to hold back more tears. "Then why do I feel so alone?"

My chest tightens. "I regret if we've made you feel that way."

She takes a shaky breath, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deceit. "Do you really mean that?"

I nod, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Yes, I do. We'll make this right. I'll make this right."

For a moment, we stand in silence, the weight of our words hanging in the air. Slowly, she relaxes, her grip on herself loosening.

"Okay," Missy whispers, her voice fragile but tinged with hope. She nods, a small, tentative smile forming on her lips. "I wouldn't have hurt her."

She twists toward me, attempting to kiss me. I place both hands firmly on her shoulders and push her back. Despite her hard work and dedication to the club, I've never been intimate with her, and I don't intend to start. Missy is a club whore and not someone I want to get involved with.

"What?" she asks, confusion flashing across her face.

"I'm with Lyric."

"But you haven't made her your Ol' Lady. I won't tell."

I step back, putting some distance between us. "I like you, Missy, but I'm not interested in you that way."

Her face flushes red with anger, and she throws her hands in the air. "You're just like all the others!"

The door to the kitchen swings open, and Creed walks in. "What the fuck is going on?" he demands.

Shaking my head, I point at Missy. "I'm not entirely sure."

Creed looks her up and down, a stern expression on his face. "What did I tell you?"

"To keep my crazy under control," she mutters.

Surprised at her words, I cock my head to the side and look at Creed. "She done this before?"

Creed's eyebrows knit together. "What did she do?"

"Nothing!" Missy cries.

Creed ignores her, staring directly at me. "What?"

"I walked in. She had a knife in her hands and was going after Lyric."

Creed's head snaps back in Missy's direction. "You were warned."

"I didn't touch her!"

"Not true. Lyric had scratch marks down her arm. You did that."

Missy closes the gap between us and clutches my shirt desperately. "You said you'd help me." Tears and sobs escape her, her eyes searching mine for a shred of compassion.

"You're done."

Creed's words cause Missy to freeze. Her eyes glaze over, and she stops crying. I gently pry her hands off me and step back, but Missy doesn't seem to notice. Her hands remain bunched together as if I'm still standing there.

"Did you hear me?" Creed asks, his tone firm.

"N-no." Missy's hands drop to her sides, her voice barely a whisper. "We're family."

"Last time I checked, a family doesn't go after each other with knives." Creed casts a glance at me. "Escort her out."

I nod and move toward Missy, who seems lost in her own world. "Come on, Missy," I say softly, trying to guide her toward the door.

Her eyes flicker with a mixture of confusion and despair. "But… where will I go?"

"You'll figure it out," I reply, my voice gentle but firm. "But you can't stay here."

She takes a hesitant step, then another, her shoulders slumped in defeat. As we reach the door, she pauses and looks back at Creed, a silent plea in her eyes.

Creed's expression remains stern. "This is for the best, Missy. You were warned, and I've had enough of your temper."

Missy pushes me away and screams at Creed, "You think you're in a world of pain now?" Hysterical laughter spills out of her. "Just you wait and see!"

Missy runs away from us, and I look at Creed. "Do I follow?"

"No, let her go. She's been on the edge of psycho town for a while. Lyric isn't the first woman Missy's tried to carve up, but she will be the last."

Creed walks back into the front of the clubhouse, and I follow him. There are at least a dozen brothers waiting near the bar.

Creed holds a hand in the air. "Missy is banned from the compound. Make sure everyone knows. I don't care if you seek her out, but she's not to ride on our bikes and not allowed to our rallies or parties. Missy is dead to us."

"Why?" asks Feral.

Creed gives him a scathing look. "Because I said so. No one goes after one of our women without consequences. Hell, she's lucky I didn't shoot her."

Feral looks down at his feet, nods, and walks out of the clubhouse.

I lock eyes with Reaper, who takes a deep breath and follows Feral.

"Go check on Lyric," Creed orders.

"She sliced Lyric?" asks Ghost, his blue eyes going frosty.

I stop and look at him. "No, man. I stopped that, but she scratched her up pretty good."

"Gotta say Missy was one persistent woman. They can poison a club."

I dip my chin and keep moving. Before I enter the room where Lyric is, I see Ghost and Dutch deep in a hushed conversation with Creed.

"Hey, you," says Lyric as soon as I enter.

Justice is dabbing her scratches with what smells like antiseptic.

"How's the arm?"

Lyric winces as Justice touches her again. I hold out my hand, and he hands over the gauze.

"It's fine."

"I better get back to the bar." Justice nods at me and heads for the door.

"Thank you," Lyric calls out as he disappears.

"You know, if these look red or swollen, you might need a tetanus shot," I say as I gently inspect her arm.

"I had one two years ago when I was in Afghanistan."

"What set Missy off?"

Lyric shrugs. "I have no idea."

I put my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. "I'm glad you're okay."

Her arms wrap around my waist. "I'm glad you walked in when you did. Where is Missy?"

"Creed banished her."

Lyric leans back to look into my eyes. "Over me?"

"No. You were the final straw. She's been erratic for a while." I cup her face with my hands. "Are you okay?"

"Do you think it could be Missy who ratted you out to Crimson Wheelers?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No way."

"Why? Because she was one of your… special friends?"

My hands drop from her face, and I burst out laughing. "Special friends?"

Lyric steps away from me. "Yes, or would you prefer I said fuck buddy?"

Trying not to laugh, I say, "I never fucked Missy."

Lyric nods, and her eyes drop to my chest. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But she said…"

Putting two fingers under her chin, I tilt her head back. "Yeah, some of the club girls gossip, and I'm not saying I haven't ever had sex with anyone but you." Her eyes come back to mine. "But I am saying I'd like it to be just you for the foreseeable future."

"Just me?"

"Yeah. How about we see how this thing goes?"

Lyric swallows and then, in a quiet voice, says, "I'd like that."

My hand drops to my side. "Come here."

She closes the gap between us and squeezes me tight. "Wanna go upstairs and fool around?"

Creed clears his throat behind us. "Highway, you got a minute?"

I kiss her forehead and turn. "Yeah, Prez."

"Meeting room, now."

Lyric puts her hand in mine. "That sounds serious."

"I'll tell you later."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're in this now. But what is said between us stays between us."

Lyric smiles, and I kiss her once more before entering the meeting room.

Stepping into the room, I'm surprised to see Dutch and Ghost sitting at our table. Their expressions are serious, and my heart beats a little faster.

Creed wastes no time with pleasantries. "Highway, we suspect Missy has been feeding information to the Crimson Wheelers."

For a moment, I'm stunned as disbelief washes over me. But as the accusation sinks in, surprise quickly turns to anger.

"What the hell? Missy? Are you sure?" My fists clench at my sides. "What's our next move?"