Chapter Thirty-Two

SHAY

"Wow, that thing doesn't look so great," I noted, stepping into the clubhouse's garage where Hawk was fiddling with what looked like a rusty old Harley, complete with cobwebs still attached. "You going to ride that?"

He smirked. "We call them projects."

"Mm-hmm," I hummed, smothering a smile. "And what does Missy call it?"

He pointed his wrench at me, waving it around. "Nothing yet, but I'll let you know when I tell her later."

I scoffed. "Good luck with that. Bishop around? He said to come here straight after work."

That's exactly what I'd done, even though my first instinct had been to go home and shower because I was wearing my third pair of scrubs for the day due to the number of bodily fluids I'd encountered.

"I think he's in his office with Blue, but he mentioned there was something at the bar for you." Hawk instantly ducked back behind the mess of a machine, his hyperfocus kicking in.

Something at the bar for me?

I pushed through the doors and into the bar and eating area.

Hopefully, it was a drink because I really needed one or fiv—

"Surprise!"

My mouth dropped open, my feet moving across the bar without me even telling them to. Calli hopped off her stool just in time to catch me as I launched myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck.

We cackled with laughter, swaying back and forth like we were dancing.

I sucked in a deep breath, pulling back and grabbing her arms. "When… how… why didn't you…"

"About an hour ago. Dad picked me up from the airport because I told him I wanted to surprise you," she answered, the only person who was ever able to make sense of my rambling. "Are you surprised?"

"In the best kind of way," I told her, letting loose an exhausted laugh. "Today has really been something. Actually, the past few weeks have really been something."

"I want to hear about it! Dad said you're still at his place?" she questioned, leaning over the bar and reaching for two already-made cocktails, placing one before each of us. "You still struggling with the night shift? Or having trouble with the guy who attacked you? Have you talked to Dad about it? You know he'd sort—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said with a laugh, waving my hands around. "Can we deal with all that later? I'm just happy to see you."

She threw her arms around me again.

There was something about Calli's hugs that were almost motherly.

It was this tight, comforting squeeze that felt like when I was falling apart, she would pull all my pieces back together.

"Hey, Cal! Some mail came for you yesterday!" Summer, one of the club girls called, waving a large white envelope.

Calli pulled back, a surprised look on her face as she walked over to Summer. "It came to the clubhouse?" she questioned, tearing it open while I turned back to the bar and picked up one of the drinks she'd made. I threw half of it back before taking a breath.

Now, it wasn't just about making my day better and celebrating that my best friend was he—

"What the hell does this mean?"

With a smile on my face, I put my drink down and spun around. "You struggling with reading your mail…" my words fell away, and I felt the blood drain from my face. "Calli…"

She held up a piece of paper, the image on it clearly having been printed on some home computer setup because it was grainy and muddy, the quality horrendous.

But it didn't matter.

It was undoubtedly a picture of Bishop and me in the open private field he'd taken me to on our ride, our bodies twisted together in a very compromising position.

Oh God.

This can't be happening.

"What's going on?" Bishop questioned as he and Blue strolled out, both men squinting as they examined the photo Calli was still holding up, her hand shaking. Bishop noticed it first, snatching the picture and screwing it into his fist. "Where the hell did you get this?"

She turned again, grabbing a large white envelope and slamming the entire thing against her father's chest. "In here, with what I could only guess is about fifty fucking more!"

Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she stared directly at me, shaking her head silently in disbelief.

I was going to be sick.

Seeing Calli upset had always hit me like a punch in the gut because I knew just how strong she was. It took a lot to break her, and to know that I was the one who'd done this—who'd made her feel this way—made me feel like throwing myself in front of a train.

Who the hell does this to their best friend?

Bishop stepped in front of me, cutting through that direct line of sight between us. "Calli, it's seriously not what it looks like."

Was he sure about that?

Because from those photos, it looked like he was fucking me in a field.

It looked like I was some whore who was trying to take the place of her mother.

I stepped around Bishop, determined to face Calli, and try to have her hear me out. Maybe she thought this was a fling. Maybe she thought we were just messing around for fun and would make things awkward in the future.

This wasn't that at all. I wanted this to be my forever.

Bishop. Calli. The club.

I needed her to know that. To understand. "Calli, I—"

"How could you?" Calli hissed, her words cutting through the air between us like a sharp dagger aimed directly at my chest. "I go away for a few weeks, and you just leap into my dad's bed? You plan on stopping with him or moving through the rest of the boys too?"

"Calliope!" Bishop roared, his reassuring hold on my hand tightening as I tried to back away.

No. I changed my mind. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to see that hurt in her eyes.

This was every fear Bishop and I had pushed past the last few weeks to get to where we were. The idea of hurting the one person we both loved more than anything had been debilitating, but there had been no fighting it.

There was no escaping the magnetic pull of an attraction that refused to be ignored.

I should have known. I should have seen this and not been so na?ve in that stupid love-wins-out-over-everything mindset. I'd been so sure in the strength of our bond, scared to have to admit the truth to Calli but hopeful that when it came down to it, she'd see what everyone else seemed to see—a connection that we could have never fought.

Maybe she would. Maybe one day.

Or maybe we'd both made the biggest mistake of our lives, and I was about to once again lose everything.

"Shay, there's someone at the gate for you," Whip interrupted, shifting nervously on his feet as he stood in the doorway. "They said they're from your work, and it's really urgent."

Matt?

Why would he be here?

I shook my head. "I can't—"

Bishop gently pushed at my back. "Go, see what they want. It might be important."

I inched toward the door, but tears were already beginning to well in my eyes, and I was practically choking on the lump in my throat. "Cal—"

"Just go," she hissed, the pain in her voice crippling me. "I can't look at you right now."

Tucking my tail between my legs, I rushed out, Whip barely stepping out of the doorway before I plowed through him. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stomped across the clubhouse's front yard to the large open gates.

Whip hurried behind me but gave me some space.

He was a sweet kid, and Bishop said he would get his full patch soon.

I was glad. He deserved it.

Squinting, I tried to see through the windshield of the car parked in the driveway, but the glare of the sun made it impossible. It wasn't Matt's car—far too fancy—but maybe he was driving his wife's vehicle for some reason. The passenger window rolled down, and Whip waited at the gate for me as I walked around and ducked my head to see in.

"Don't fucking scream."

The barrel of the gun a foot from my face was the first thing I saw, making my entire body freeze like stone. Jason held it just below the dash and pointed up at me so if Whip could see in the car, he wouldn't know.

"Jason, what are you doing?" I questioned quietly, trying not to draw Whip's attention.

Jason was unhinged, but for the most part, he'd always been kind of calm and arrogant about it. Which was why I knew this was bad.

Really fucking bad.

Showing up to an MC clubhouse and pointing a gun at the president's Old Lady kind of bad.

"Get in the car," he ordered through clenched teeth. "Say goodbye and get in like everything is fucking fine."

I eyed the gun. The question of whether I could beat a fucking bullet actually sparked in my mind for a brief second.

It was stupid.

Even if I dropped to the ground, he could just get out. Shoot me. Shoot Whip. Shoot anyone who wandered out here.

I wasn't about to have that.

"Whip, I'm going out for a little bit, okay?" I called as I pulled the door open and climbed into the car.

Whip wandered forward a couple of steps. "Wait. Shay, you should really—"

Jason stuck his arm out the window.

He wouldn't. He couldn't be so stupid as to fire a fucking gun out the front of a clubhouse full of men who had military-grade weapons stashed inside.

But that was when I noticed the strange shape of the gun. It had an additional six-inch barrel sticking out the end, making it extra long.

A silencer.

"No!" I screamed, watching him pull the trigger three times, the loud boom that usually resounded after a gun was fired just not there. Whip's body jolted with each blow, his eyes widening as he sank to his knees. "No, no, no."

I grabbed the door handle, pulling hard, trying to get out to get to Whip, but it was locked, and the window was up again. "Help! Someone!" I screamed through the glass as I continued to struggle with the door, pulling, tugging, and banging, trying to make any kind of noise that would attract attention, but it was useless.

Jason was already reversing out and onto the road, his gun pointed at me as I pulled away.

Whip was lying on the ground, his eyes open, but blood seeping from the bullet holes in his torso. He wouldn't last long. He needed help now.

So I risked it.

I leaned over and slammed my palm against the center of the steering wheel.

"You crazy bitch!" Jason roared, trying to fight me off while we swerved across the road, back and forth, the car horn blaring. "Fuck!"

Then he changed tactics.

He swung the gun at my face. I saw it coming. I knew it would hurt.

At least I might have saved Whip, I thought.

Then it all went black.