Chapter 25

Stone

I press a kiss to Ivy's forehead, smiling at the way she leans into my touch even when she's dead asleep, and then I make a quick stop at the big house to shower and change clothes before visiting Gray.

I've put it off for the past twenty-four hours because, well, because it's fucking awkward, but it is what it is. He made Ivy choose, and she did.

She chose me.

I step inside and find Gray sitting up in bed. Sage is at his side, her hand holding his.

"Morning," I growl, smiling when they both fly apart like they've been caught in the backseat of somebody's car.

"Hey, man." Gray smiles before reaching for Sage's hand again, but he doesn't find it because she's holding both hands in her lap.

"You've got a bit more color today. How are you feeling?"

His gaze slants to Sage and then back to me with a slow smile. "Better, considering I was shot."

I roll my eyes. "You gonna milk this shit forever, aren't you?"

"Not forever, no. But for a while."

We share a laugh, which Sage interrupts by cracking a yawn. "Sorry, guys," she says, her eyes sleepy.

"Don't be." I go to her and take her by the shoulders. "You need to go back to the house. Shower and nap, maybe put some food in you. I'll stay with Gray for a little while."

Her gaze flickers back to Gray, and her brows dip with concern. "You sure?"

"I am. Go. You're no good to anybody if you're dead on your feet, Sage."

I know she's dead-ass tired when she doesn't argue with me, not even for sport. She nods, giving Gray's hand a quick squeeze before she slips from the room.

I want to say something, to give him shit so badly, but I can't. He's healing, and I'm not that big of an asshole. "For real, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine. Nova says it's all good, and he's only keeping me here to make sure I don't show signs of infection. By tomorrow, I should be back at home."

I smile. "Being smothered to death by Ella Mae. And Sage."

He shrugs, taking the jab in stride. "What can I say? The ladies love me." His smile fades slowly. "You don't have to say anything. I already know."

Relief courses through me, but I can't let that be the whole fucking conversation. "Are you good?"

He shrugs. "I'm all right, man. I knew the moment you came back she was gone."

I sigh and nod. "I'm sorry, man. I never meant to get between you two."

He looks away, letting the words hang in the thick silence between us. "Her choice is her choice. All I can do is accept it."

"Yeah, okay, but are we cool?" Accepting a breakup is one thing, but I'm talking about something else. "We're not just friends, Gray. We're brothers." The MC is our life. It's the way of life for both of us.

"Yeah, I know. And you saved my ass, killed for me when your life would've been easier to let them blow my fuckin' brains out. We're brothers, Stone, in all the ways that matter. No woman, not even one as incredible as Ivy, is gonna change that."

I blink. "That's really fucking mature, man."

Gray laughs, wincing slightly. "Yeah, fucker. You're not the only one who grew up in the past five years."

"Yeah? I hadn't noticed."

Gray responds by flipping me off. "Look, Stone. We're good, okay, man? But only if you take those goddamn Skull Crushers out. I mean, they fuckin' shot me."

"Maybe when you're healed up, you should work on your ducking skills. We could probably set up an obstacle course on the ranch somewhere."

"Fuck you," he laughs. "Fuck 'em up, brother, and we're good."

"Oh, I plan to. You can believe that."

"Kickin' ass and takin' names…" he trails off.

I nod. "It's my specialty."

"Then, we're good. Be safe."

"Always." We sit and shoot the shit before Ella Mae arrives with more food than Gray and I could eat in two lifetimes. I know she's happy to see her son, so I stand and give her my chair so she can smother her son in private.

I head back to the bunkhouse and slip on my don't-fuck-with-me mask because I need to get off the ranch and handle some business.

Not just because I made a promise to Gray, but because it's the right fucking thing to do. He and I might have our differences, but he's my brother, and his bloodshed requires retaliation.

"That's a mighty serious expression you're wearing." Ivy's amused tone matches the slow smile spreading across her face. "Am I gonna like whatever it is you're gearing up to tell me?"

My smile brightens. "And you said we don't know each other anymore."

Her gaze narrows. "Deflection. It must be bad, then."

"Nope. Not bad," I assure her. "But I do have to leave the ranch for a bit." I hold her gaze, needing her to see that I'm dead serious.

Ivy pushes off the bed, her eyes lock with mine as she closes the distance between us. She stops a few feet from me, folding her arms over her chest. "Don't sugarcoat shit, Stone. If this is gonna work?—"

"It is," I insist.

"Then be straight up with me. I can handle it." The way she nibbles her bottom lip tells me she's not sure at all.

"Nothing to tell. I'm going out just to get a lay of the land, that's all." It isn't a lie. I have no destination in mind, but the need to go out and avenge my brother courses through my veins like an infection, and violence is the only cure.

"Alone." It's not a question.

"Just me and my bike, yeah."

There's so much she wants to say, and I wait for her to tear me a new asshole with her words. Fire burns in her eyes, but she says nothing. Just nods and turns away from me.

"Ivy, please."

She shakes her head. "You do what you have to do, Stone. All I ask is that you be careful. People are crazy these days."

My shoulders relax at her words. She's not angry. She's scared, and I go to her and wrap my arms around her. "I'll be extremely careful. People have been crazy for years. Way before we were born."

"Hmph," she grumbles.

"I'll be crawling into bed beside you before you know it." Sifting my fingers through her thick hair, I tilt her head back and feast on her mouth, devouring her lips until we're both breathless. "I'll finish that kiss later."

She gives my chest a gentle shove, her full lips shiny as they part into a sultry smile. "Maybe I'll let you. Be safe."

"Always," I repeat the word two more times between kisses, and then I make my escape before I'm too distracted to leave.

Minutes later, it's just me, my bike, and the open road. The need to settle this grudge consumes me. I stop at all the usual haunts in search of my prey.

Smoky looks up from the bar with a long cigarette dangling from his lips, one black and silver brow arches up. "Looking for trouble again?"

"Not exactly," I smile. "I'm wondering if you've seen Trey around?"

Smoky shakes his head. "Not for a few days, no. You sure you wanna go looking for him? That one's got a screw loose up in here," he says, pointing at his head and making the universal gesture for crazy.

"Don't wanna, Smoky, but I have to." It's a matter of fucking honor. Principle.

"Yeah, yeah," he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Try Crossbones over in Tulip. Lots of bikers hang out there."

"Thanks, Smoky."

"Don't thank me. If your Ma gets in my face, I'll pretend I don't even know you."

A smile splits my lips, and I share a laugh with Smoky before leaving the bar. "You got it, old man. Thanks for the tip."

Crossbones is an old wooden shack-style bar, and the only parking out front is for motorcycles, a true mark of a biker bar. Loud country rock music blares through what passes for windows in a place with no windows. Just a few squares cut around the structure because nobody in their right mind is stupid enough to knock over a biker bar.

Inside, the place is dimly lit, smoky as fuck, and packed with bikers. I scan the room as best I can in search of Trey's face, but he's not here.

I stop at the bar and order a shot of whiskey, giving myself time to be certain as I carefully peruse the groups of bikers.

He"s not here, I decide as I finish my drink. I'm fucking disappointed because my hands itch to fuck some shit up. My return to Opey has been mostly quiet, at least quieter than things ever were in Angel Harbor. I need some action, or else I'll go crazy.

"Another," I tell the bartender and slap a twenty-dollar bill down on the bar top to cover my drinks. "Thanks," I say when he tops my shot glass.

Trey isn't here, but a telltale zing up my spine tells me that someone has his eyes on me.

I smile to myself and head toward the exit, my gait lazy and my steps long and purposeful. I give no indication that I sense danger lurking close by. I don't know who it is, and I don't give a shit what they want because I know what I want.

To fuck some shit up.

"You lost, pretty boy?" The voice is deep and highly amused.

"Not at all," I reply casually, turning to face the nondescript man with brown hair and dark eyes. The only thing remarkable about him is the patch on the right chest of his kutte. "You the tour guide?"

His brows dip. "What the fuck?"

My hands bunch into fists and flex out, itching to meet this fucker's face. "Don't know, man. You're either trying to help me find my way or something else. Which is it?"

"You don't belong here, asshole."

"Interesting." I scratch my chin. "This your place?"

"In every way that matters," he growls, clearly pissed off at my answers.

"That means it's not yours, which means I can go wherever the fuck I want. If you got a problem with that, it ain't my business."

He jumps down the two wooden steps, charging forward. "I'm making it my business."

He swings wildly, and I duck it easily. "You don't want this," I tell him with a smile because I know an asshole like him can't resist the challenge.

"That's where you're wrong, punk." He swings again, a little too wildly, and I move to the side to avoid it.

"I really want to do this," he says with an ugly grin.

I shrug and pull back my left hand. I hit him with a right uppercut that sends him stumbling backward. "Good. I do, too." I advance and kick him straight in the face. The sickening crunch sounds before the audible rush of blood. "Get up, fucker. Get up!"

He scrambles to his feet, hands up to protect his face. "You're a dead man," he growls.

"One of us is anyway." His hands and arms protect his face, leaving his midsection wide open to a barrage of body shots. "You should've stayed inside."

He shoves me back, keeping pace with me while throwing a barrage of wild punches. They come so quickly that a few land, grazing my jaw and cheek. Two land in the middle of my chest, and I take the last one head-on to set me up for the next shot.

"You should've left when you had the chance," he blubbers through his loose teeth.

"Where's the fun in that?" I smile and kick him just below the knee, enjoying the fear in his eyes and the pain as he crumbles to the ground. Just for shits and giggles, I kick his side a few times while he struggles to get back up.

The familiar sound of a switchblade whirs, and I groan.

"What the fuck is it with you Skull Crushers and blades? You should call yourselves the cutting boards." I watch him carefully as he jabs and slices the air between us. "Okay, let's do this."

He lunges forward, leading with the blade and slicing it across my left forearm with a smile. "That's one."

"You can count?" I laugh and grab his wrist, bending his arm backward until the blade falls. With one arm occupied, I land nearly a dozen blows before he falls to the ground, but I'm not done yet.

The bloodlust beats like a drum as I press my knees into his biceps, trapping him between my legs, flat on his back. The fucker bucks wildly, but I have at least twenty-five pounds on him and a fuck-ton of violence ready to unleash.

Blow after blow rains down on his face until it's a bloody, almost unrecognizable mess. My smile grows bigger, and I reach for the fallen knife and slash across his forearm. "Son of a bitch!"

"That's one," I toss his words back at him and sink the blade into his side. "That's two."

"Stop!"

"Oh, you've had enough?" I laugh. "Too fucking bad." I stab him again and again, rage taking over until I'm so crazy with it, I'm almost blind. "Fuck!"

The guy is still breathing, but just barely.

"Give a message to Trey. Tell him I'm coming for him." I spit in his face and get up, glaring down at him. "I'm coming for all of you. Consider this your one and only lifeline."

The rush of that ass-whooping sticks with me all the way back to the ranch.

To Ivy.