CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Baja—

I lock myself in my house for two days, all the shades drawn, barely able to do more than drag myself from bed to take a piss, before returning to it and sinking into the deep abyss that has sucked me under.

Nothing matters anymore… maybe not even the club.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I lift my head to stare at it. I've hoped a hundred times that it's Elaina, only to find another text or call from one of my brothers.

Still, my hope surges again, and I reach for it.

TREZ: Enough, bro. We're coming over to drag you out of your house.

I drop the phone on the nightstand, and with a groan, I bury my face in the pillow. I barely have the energy to climb from the bed, but I know what he texted me is a fact, not a threat. I don't want to face any of them or hear the I-told-you-so's; I've got to get out of here.

Dragging myself up, I pull on jeans, boots, shirt and cut, grab my keys, and head out to my bike. I roar off down the street, and the wind in my face shakes some of the melancholy. I ride for a long time and finally pull to a stop.

Like a man coming out of a trance, I find myself at the cemetery. I drop my kickstand, not even remembering the ride up here. I walk toward Hannah's and Sophie's grave.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I stare at the marker.

"Sweetheart, I know I've said I was sorry a million times, and none of that makes this any better, but I hope you don't blame me. I hope you have our daughter in your arms to comfort you. Hannah, I never meant for my life to destroy yours."

For the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours, I think about eating a bullet. I'm not a coward. I know that down to my bones. I'm just tired of it all. Tired of trying to pretend what I have is enough. It's not. But I feel trapped with no way forward that leads to happiness. I was lucky to have Hannah. I never thought lightning would strike twice, but it did.

But I know it won't strike a third time.

So, what's the point of going on?

I sit cross-legged on the grass and try to wrangle the courage to take my pistol out and put it to my temple.

The birds chirp, and the breeze blows.

It's a nice, quiet place. Maybe it's the perfect place.

I get lost in my thoughts, Elaina's face pushing Hannah's aside. Her laugh when I'd tickle her, the look in her eyes when I brought her to orgasm, the way her gaze would soften when I told her she was beautiful.

I don't know how long I sit there, staring into space.

A shadow falls across me, and I look up to find Trez, Rock, and Darko.

"What are you doing here?" I ask quietly.

Trez holds his arm out and drops the gloves in his hand against his chaps. They're in full leather. It's only then I realize how cold it is. It's only then I realize the grass is brown, and the leaves are almost gone from the trees.

I blink; in my mind's eye, a moment ago, the grass was green, the trees full of leaves, and spring flowers blooming. Am I losing my mind?

"You okay, brother?" Rock asks.

I nod and immediately realize I've lied to my president. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore.

I stare up at Trez. "How'd you find me?"

"Just had a hunch." He jerks his head. "Come on, Baja. Let's have a beer."

"I don't think so. I think I'll stay here." I turn back to the headstone.

"You're not going to find what you're looking for here, son," Rock says.

"Family and love aren't in the cards for me, it seems, Prez. So maybe this is exactly where I'll find what I'm looking for."

Rock lifts his chin to Trez and Darko, and before I realize what it means, they each grab an arm and haul me to my feet. Rock reaches into my cut and pulls out my gun, ejecting the clip and shoving it in the waistband at the small of his back.

"Check him," he barks, and my brothers frisk me for more.

"He's clean," Trez proclaims.

"This about Elaina?" Darko asks.

"She's gone. Won't reply. Probably blocked me. I don't blame her. She was right to worry." I hold a hand out to the grave. "Bad things happen to women who get close to me. She was smart to leave before I got her killed, too."

"You are not to blame for their deaths, Baja," Rock bites out.

"If it wasn't for me, the Phantom Marauders wouldn't have run her off the road, and they'd both be alive today."

Rock gets right in my face and grabs a handful of my shirt, dragging me close. "It was not your fault." He searches my eyes, but I don't believe him. "I'm gonna tell you something, Baja. Something I kept from you all those years ago. Something I saw no point in telling you at the time, but I had no clue you felt such incredible and misplaced guilt over what happened."

"Tell me what?" I murmur.

"It's not gonna make any of this better, son. It may make it worse, but I can't stand here and have one of my brothers thinking about eating a bullet over this shit."

"You got somethin' to say, then say it," I reply without emotion, feeling like I'm underwater.

"I hid this from you because you were already in enough pain. Saw no point in adding to it. But the fact is, I saw the police report about the accident. It showed Hannah had a blood alcohol level of almost double the legal limit. Baja, it wasn't the Phantom Marauders who caused the accident. They were in the area, but they didn't run her off the road. She was drunk."

I surge toward him, intending to punch him in his lying fucking mouth, but Darko and Trez hold me back.

"That's a fucking lie," I shout.

"It's not, Baja. She was drunk. She drove off the road and hit that tree, but not because another club forced her off. It's ugly, but it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you. Not about this."

If I had my gun, I think I'd use it right now. He's right; it makes it worse. If she was drunk, that was probably my fault, too. I was a bad influence on her or I'd done something to make her mad or sad.

Just like I seem to have done with Elaina.

"Pull yourself together, Baja," Rock snaps. "You're a fucking Royal Bastard. Act like one. Act like you've got a damn spine."

It stings, like he meant it to when he said it. I inhale and stand taller. "I know exactly who the hell I am."

"Do you?" he bites. "Then fucking act like it. You want Elaina, then go get her."

I shake my head. "That's over. She made it clear this isn't the life for her."

"Bullshit," Trez mutters behind me.

Rock looks at him, then swings his gaze back to me. "If that's over, then I'll send Desiree by your house tonight. She'll shake you out of this funk."

"I don't want Desiree."

"What was that?" Rock asks, putting his hand to his ear and leaning forward.

"I said, I don't want Desiree."

"What? Sorry, I can't fucking hear you?" he barks.

"I don't want Desiree. Goddamn it. I want Elaina ," I scream at my president.

A big grin forms on his face. "'Bout time you fucking admitted it, brother."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Darko prods.

"He's going after her, or he's no Royal Bastard," Rock answers for me. "Mount up. We're makin' a road trip to Denver." He pauses. "Unless that is, you'd rather let your fucking lowlife brother have her?"

That stiffens my spine. I shake my head and stalk toward my bike.