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Cap: Celestial Sons MC: Book Four

Quinn Ryder & Annelise Reynolds


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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges, the trademarked
status and trademark owners of the following marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2024 by Annelise Reynolds & Quinn Ryder
Cap: The Celestial Sons MC Book Four by Annelise Reynolds & Quinn. Ryder.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copy-right reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without written permission of
above copyright owner of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Editor: Ryder Editing and Formatting
Proofreaders: Courtnay Gray
Cover Design: Quinn Ryder
Cover Model and photographer: Golden Czermak
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition: January 7, 2024
Library of Congress Cataloging-In-Publication Data has been applied for by Reynolds, A & Ryder, Q
Cap: The Celestial Sons MC Book Four—1st Edition
Table of Contents
Copyright
Synopsis
Trigger Warning
Books in the Celestial Sons MC Series
Club Members
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Thank You Reader
Acknowledgements
A Note to our Readers
What’s Next from the Celestial Sons MC?
Other Books by Annelise Reynolds
About Annelise Reynolds
Author Links:
Other Books by Quinn Ryder
The Devil’s Armada MC Series and (O.L.) Series
Lewd Outlaws MC - RH Books
Lewd Outlaws MC Spinoff
Harriers of Vengeance MC
Hands of Justice LEMC
The Santoyo Brothers Trilogy
Standalones and Collaborations
About Quinn Ryder
Author Links:
Celestial Sons MC Facebook Group and Page
Contact Us by Email
Synopsis
Cap
I never expected to have a heart attack at the age of thirty-five. It was that kind of life-changing moment where it makes you stop and really appreciate the life you have.
My heart was so bad they had to take it away from me and replace it with a new one, leaving me just as hollow as I was before.
As the Road Captain for the Celestial Sons MC and former soldier for the Army, you would’ve thought I saw the signs, but I was too busy trying to keep the club together
to pay attention to my own body. Now there was a foreign heart beating inside my chest—a heart that only got stronger when I got near Ruby. I never intended to fall for
my client, but the more time we spend together, the more I NEED to save her from herself before it's too late.
Ruby
Losing Chase destroyed every part of me.
He was the only person in this world that made me feel whole, and now that he’s gone, there’s a bitter emptiness inside of me I can't seem to wash away. Living without
him was meaningless, which is why I made the choice to end my life. But Nicholas Kane had other ideas, intervening when I thought it was supposed to be my last
moment on earth.
He was nothing like my Chase, but he was determined to save me from myself, even though I didn’t want or need his help. Grief is never an easy thing to deal with, but
when a handsome biker shows up trying to guide you to the light, you can’t help but question if his intervention was an act of pure luck, or if fate was bringing him into my
life for reasons both of our hearts just couldn’t see.
Trigger Warning
This book contains scenes and themes that may be triggering for readers that have troubles with books about grief, suicide, suicidal thoughts, forced intimacy, loss of
a loved one, or addictions. Please read with caution if any of the above themes may trigger you.
Books in the Celestial Sons MC Series
This is a light MC series. They are not a 1% Club and would rather choose peace over conflict. This is the current reading
order:
Book One: Zodiac
Book Two: Scorpio
Book Three: Pincher
Book Four: Cap
Book Five: Bull (Coming 2024)
Club Members
Ranked Members
President – Zodiac
VP – Scorpio
SGT at Arms – Archer
Enforcer – Bull
Treasurer - Scales
Road Captain – Cap
Tail Gunner – Leo

Members
Aries
Fish
Castor
Pollux

Prospects
Virg
Pincher
Dedication

We’d like to dedicate this book to all the Capricorns out there. Those hardworking, critical overthinkers, that are super loyal but also have a bit of a pessimistic side. Those
ambitious souls who tend to overachieve, are always practical, and tend to reach for their goals and conquer them with ease.
This is for all of you who were born December 22nd through January 19th. The men and women who push forward even when faced with challenges or mental strife and
keep that playful, almost youthful nature even as they grow.
To all you Capricorns, this book is for you!
Always reach for the stars,
~Annelise and Quinn~
Prologue

There’s nothing worse than losing someone you love. That horrible feeling of loss you get when you realize a piece of you
is gone and you know it will never return. I loved Chase with every beat of my soul. He was my person—my everything. Then
he was ripped away from me. It was a tragedy that should’ve only happened in a movie or story book. But it happened to me
that one fateful night over six months ago.
I try not to think back on that night, even though I often find myself wondering how I ever let it get to the point it did? That
butterfly effect where splices in time could’ve been altered or modified just slightly enough to change the fate of our stars.
We could’ve chosen to stay home instead of going to our friend’s birthday party. I could’ve taken away the last few beers
Chase pounded down, or waited until he was more sober before letting him drive home. We both had a little too much to drink,
but that didn’t stop me from pleading with him to give me the keys, begging for him to stay at Horatio’s house instead of getting
behind the wheel. Like most inebriated idiots, Chase didn’t think he was that drunk. But he was. He was drunk enough to get
behind the wheel. Drunk enough to pull out of the parking lot. Drunk enough to make the biggest mistake of his life that ended
up costing us everything.
I still remember how fast my heart was beating inside of my chest. The increase of its rhythm as he swerved haphazardly
into the other lane. And the minute it stalled inside my chest when all those lights illuminated the cab of his truck, and the glass
shattered around us.
The horn.
The panic.
The fucking last few seconds I had with him.
I remember it all like it was on a constant loop inside my mind. The fucked-up vision of my husband’s last few moments on
earth swirling around in my head like a record that never stops playing.
There was a moment where he looked me dead in the eye and all I could see was the fear in each tiny speck of green
surrounding his pupil. Guilt hid behind his normally confident smile, rising up all at once, then in one second, erasing from the
very existence we both took for granted.
He knew he had fucked up. But there wasn’t time to say he was sorry, or try to correct his mistake. No… when it’s your
time, everything happens in a split second, and you’re gone before mistakes can ever be forgiven. And I haven’t forgiven him. I
don’t think I ever will.
What Chase did that night was selfish and reckless. Not that I didn’t know that about him when I married him. His
recklessness had always been a huge turn on for me, but now I hated it almost as much as I hated him.
God, why didn’t he just listen to me instead of arguing with me that night? Why did he have to get behind that wheel and
drive when he was intoxicated? Why did God spare my life and take his instead?
It was a question I always asked myself. Why? Why was I spared? Why did I still exist?
People don’t understand the eternal darkness a person feels when their soulmate is ripped away from them. That happiness
you used to feel seeps out of you, replaced by an internal misery that festers and sits inside your soul, consuming everything
until it swallows you whole. That kind of pain eats you from the inside out, taking away all the good in the world and replacing
it with a grey veil of nothingness that snuffs out all your light.
My light died the moment Chase took his last breath—a final exhale taken six months ago today. That was when my husband
left me alone on this planet—replacing my happiness with a bitter sadness that I can no longer bear.
No one understands.
Not my mother.
Not my father.
Certainly not the friends who turned their backs on me when they couldn’t bear to see the pain in my eyes, or the wound he
left me with that never healed after his departure.
Nobody gets the internal hell being without him has caused me.
A hell I no longer can stand living in.
There’s nothing left for me here. Nothing that’s worth living for, anyway.
I’d rather battle the ethereal world of the afterlife with Chase, our two hearts beating to the same ghostly rhythm, than take
another miserable shallow breath on this ghastly rock we all call home.
So, on this eve of my husband’s death, I salute those who managed to move on with their lives after losing their person—
the people who somehow found that extra beat in their hearts to keep them going after their world was shattered into a
kaleidoscope of loss and depression like mine.
I envy that kind of strength.
It’s the strength I wish I had, instead of the weakness that has me gripping this bottle of pills, ready to dump every single
one down my throat, and join my Chase up in heaven.
The pills sat heavy in my hands, like tiny little grenades ready to obliterate everything wrong in my world. This was the
only way. It wasn’t like God was going to intervene and show me a purpose after months of turning his back on me and taking
away the only person that ever mattered to me. He didn’t care. Nobody fucking cared about me but Chase.
“Chase, if you’re up there. I’m sorry I let you down. I just can’t stay here any longer without you. I’m coming home, baby.
Back to the only arms that will ever keep me warm. Back to my person and the only heart that will ever belong to me. I love
you now, forever, always, and every space in between.”
My hands shook as I raised my fist to my lips, tears streaming down the sides of my face like empty rivers of sorrow as I
thought about him saying those words to me during his vows.
Chase was gone… and if I was ever to find his heart again, this was the only way.
I’m coming, Chase. Save a place for me behind those pearly gates. I love you….
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Chapter One

Seven months ago


“Is he okay?” Zodiac shouted, but I couldn’t hear him. Everything in the room had suddenly dulled, replaced with an
insistent ringing in my ears.
My chest felt tight, and a pain so excruciating ricocheted through my bones, stopping inside my chest as the muscle that
pumped life throughout my body stalled and constricted.
The ground came fast, smashing into my face as I hit it with a sickening thud and everything ceased up. There was no
moving. All I could do was grasp at my chest, willing my heart to keep going.
“Cap! Jesus, fuck!” someone shouted to my left. “Archer, get the fuck over here. Something’s wrong with Cap!”
Black dots dotted my vision and my head swam in a sea of pain that was drowning out my ability to think and speak.
Hands pressed into my chest, violently pushing into my sternum in four angry thrusts.
“Cap, stay the fuck with me,” a voice said, but it was muffled and sounded so far away. “Goddamn it! Stay with me.”
“What’s wrong?” another voice asked.
“Call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack.”
Heart attack? Me?
There was no way. I was only thirty-two. I survived two tours overseas, and now I was lying here on the cold ground, life
slowly leaking out of me as my heart, that was once so strong, gave out on me for no reason.
I didn’t remember shit after that.
Not the ride in the ambulance. Not the hospital stay. Nothing. I shouldn’t have survived, but someone was looking over me
that day, and I was spared, even though my heart was left barely hanging on.

Present day
The doctors said I had a massive heart attack that night, which caused severe scarring to the point I needed a transplant. A
TRANSPLANT!
The thought still seemed so surreal to me, just like the four weeks of life they gave me after it happened. I was rushed to the
top of our state’s transplant list, but I had little hope. The likelihood of surviving and finding a donor was slim—especially for
a guy like me. I had a rare blood type, one that needed to be matched perfectly in order to get a heart.
My club helped me the best they could, keeping my life as dull as possible. The slightest excitement could be that final nail
in the coffin, and I already felt six feet under in my head. For three miserable weeks, I sat at home, waiting for the hospital to
call me. Sometimes the stress got so bad that the doctors discussed admitting me and putting me in a medically induced coma in
hopes that a donor would somehow magically appear, but I lost hope the second I woke up from my heart attack.
Everyone thought I was gonna die. The doctors, my club, even myself. Hope never found me after that. It was just the
waiting game—a game I was losing all desire to play. I ended up rushed to the surgical unit after the doctors informed me that
they had found a match. I was shocked. Everything inside me felt like it was failing, and I knew I didn’t have much time left.
The doctors knew that too. There was no more waiting for me. It was either my body accepted the new heart, or I died.
When my eyes finally opened again, the heart I once knew was no longer inside my chest. A foreign vessel sat in its place.
It was still a muscle. It still pumped blood through my body, but it wasn’t mine. How I knew that, I didn’t know.
Sure, the pain and the gigantic wound on my chest, stapled from my sternum down to my stomach, should’ve given it away,
but it was the unfamiliar beat—the peculiar way it seemed to be out of rhythm with the rest of my body that clued me in.
The doctors said I got lucky, that some kind of guardian angel must’ve been looking out for me that day because my heart
literally died while they were removing it, and I started to code, only to be revived when the new heart was inserted and
brought me back to life, like Dr. Frankenstein reviving his monster. The only way to fix my broken heart was to replace it
altogether, and that’s exactly what they did, utilizing a perfectly matched organ donor whose healthy heart could replace the
poisoned one inside my chest.
The recovery was fucking brutal. The pain I felt as my body tried to adjust to my new organ was indescribable, and I didn’t
wish that kind of pain on anyone. All I could do was thank the mysterious donor who gave me my heart, wishing his or her fate
wouldn’t have ended in such a tragic way. Their sacrifice saved my life, and I was eternally grateful to them, even though I had
no clue who it was that donated it and never would.
All I knew was that I was alive, and because of it, I had a new purpose in my life. Almost dying had opened my eyes
differently to the world. All around me I could see the signs of people who were suffering internally, the ones who kept their
dark thoughts hidden away from the world, the ones who were ready to just give up. I could see the despair in their eyes,
sparking my need to help those who might be suffering from depression, and the people who endured tremendous losses in their
lives—losses that brought them to the brink of ending it all.
Suicide was a silent killer—one that often went undetected by most. People never saw the signs before they happened, and
always missed the silent cries for help that were only said through sad eyes and unspoken words. I missed that cue when
Nathan passed away. He was my brother, a fellow comrade that took the battlefield beside me while on a tour overseas. He
always seemed so happy, living behind a fake smile that people actually believed. I sure did. I had no idea that on the inside,
he was crying out for help. He lost everything while he was away, and returned to an empty house with no one there to support
him. If only I had known, maybe I could have intervened and protected him before he bit that bullet and it ricocheted through
his skull. Damn. Thinking about it now still haunts me. The signs were all there… I just missed them.
It’s sad because I see those same signs in Leo. His bitterness and depression were only getting worse the longer he sat in a
puddle of his own misery and rage. I wasn’t going to give up on him. I wasn’t going to give up on any of them. It’s why I
created my own non-profit called The Guiding Light, something outside the club that I could call my own. As long as it didn’t
interfere with the club’s comings and goings, Zodiac didn’t care. In fact, he was the one who encouraged me to follow my
dream. He knew, more than anyone, what it was like to sit in a puddle of despair because he festered in his for almost twenty
years, until fate brought Tess back into his life. Now he was as happy as can be, newly married to his high school sweetheart,
raising a beautiful little girl like she was their own. It’s funny how life sometimes intervenes, deterring our paths so the right
people get placed in them. It was the whole point of my non-profit, placing myself in other people’s paths to help them
circumvent their grief and pain, hoping they don’t choose that same dark road Nathan chose when he took his life.
It’s the whole reason I was standing on this doorstep now, my hand raised in a hesitant fist as I hovered outside her door.
The only reason I was there was because her boss reached out to me. He said that she wasn’t doing well mentally and was
afraid she’d end her own life.
Ruby Tyler.
I traced her name with my finger about thirteen times before I finally picked up the phone to call her. She never answered.
Now I was standing outside her door, my heart racing inside my chest, afraid for the future of a woman I had never met before.
Would she answer the door? Was I too late? Would she even be open to my help?
These questions flew through my mind as my fist pounded on her door.
KNOCK KNOCK.
No answer…
I knocked again. This time, even louder. Her bike was in the driveway, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed. To help a fellow
biker would do my heart some good. If she was suffering and in pain, I would be there for her, a Guiding Light to get her
through her darkness.
Still no answer.
I don’t know what compelled me to place my hand on that knob, or to turn it to see if it was open. Something inside me was
urging me to go inside—a ghostly voice guiding me to help her.
When the door gave way and opened, the house was eerily quiet. Not a single sound came from anywhere.
“Hello?”
More silence.
“Mrs. Tyler, are you in here?”
A large thump came from a back bedroom, sounding eerily like a body hitting the floor.
Fuck!
My feet moved so fast I could barely keep up, and when I threw open the door, the sight I saw shattered my very existence.
There she was, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, convulsing on the floor with an empty bottle of pills lying next to
her. There was no hesitation. I moved with the speed of a jet, dropping down beside her until I had her cradled in my arms.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, so before she could protest, my fingers were shoved down her throat, forcing her to throw up
whatever was in her system.
Her eyes violently flew open as she choked on my fingers, the gagging forced all the contents of her stomach to empty onto
the floor beside her. I held back her hair as she continued to purge herself of the pills. She needed a hospital, but for now, she
had me. I sent up a silent prayer, hoping that no matter what happened, I could help her. I wasn’t in time to help Nathan. I’d
found him after the fact, a memory that still fucking haunted me. Seeing the road Leo was going down scared the shit out of me.
I imagined I annoyed the hell out of him, forcing him to do more than just exist in a bottle of whiskey each night and whatever
Fallen Star was available to warm his bed. For some reason, saving this woman was as important to me as saving my brother. I
needed her to pull through this. I needed her to fight for her future.
“Ruby, come on, girl. Spit it all out. Get that poison out of your system.”
She coughed. God, she coughed so much. It didn’t seem like enough, so I kept forcing her until she was nothing but dry
heaves and tears. When I knew her stomach was empty, I brought her up against me, brushing my fingers through her hair as I
tried to soothe her the best I could.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
She sobbed against my chest, coughing periodically as she attempted to rein her emotions in.
Her bright blue eyes looked up at me. A wall of tears shimmering over those pain-filled orbs that mirrored the ocean.
“Who are you?” she croaked out between sobs, her fingers digging into my arms as she continued to hold on to me for
support.
She needed me. I could feel it in the way her body trembled against me. She was so broken and lost, her pain nothing more
than compressed air beneath a corked bottle, erupting all at once when the top was blown.
Her boss was so right… Ruby fucking needed me.
“I’m Nicholas, I’m here to help.”
“Help me what?”
I lifted my eyes so they met hers, ignoring the questions I knew she had.
“Help you find the light in your world again.”
Chapter Two

Light? Yeah right.


For the last six months, the only thing I’ve known was a darkness so bleak, it dragged me down and swallowed the world
around me into nothingness. I closed my eyes, exhausted and spent. Whoever this guy was, he saved me. I wasn’t certain if I
wanted to thank him or curse him, but neither was an option at the moment. My throat burned from throwing up, and my body
felt heavy and too weak to do anything about it at the moment.
I just relaxed into him, and let his warmth seep into my skin.
“Come on, Mrs. Tyler.” He cleared his throat and tried to get me to focus. “You need to get up. We need to get you to the
hospital.”
“NO!” I shouted, pushing away from the comfort of his arms, ignoring the fact that I was sitting in the mess I made of the
floor. “I’m not going to a hospital.”
“Easy,” he said, standing up to hold out a hand. “Ruby, you can’t stay here alone, darlin’. If you won’t go to the hospital, do
you have a friend or family member I can take you to, so they can help look after you?”
I shook my head vehemently, and my stomach started to roll with the motion. I bent over, dry heaving again, the room
spinning as dizziness set in. “I have nobody,” I gasped out. “Not anymore.”
Bitter resentment filled me as I lifted my head to look at this Nicholas person who invaded my home, interrupted my plans,
and saved my wretched life.
Insane eyes the color of deep, rich chocolate stared back at me with intent concern, perfectly framing his golden skin that
only glorified his exotic good looks. A warm blush crept over my cheeks as my eyes traced over every chiseled inch of his
fantastic jawline, discreetly covered by a rich, thick black beard that matched the tiny short Mohawk on his head. He was
covered in tattoos from head to toe. I could even see a few peeking out from spots on his head where his hair wasn't as long.
But the best part of him was his smile, so genuine and caring. The deep dimples that pressed into his cheeks had my heart
stammering inside my chest. He was fucking gorgeous, and the goddamn muscles that covered this man were sexy as sin.
“Why are you here?” I asked him, both annoyed by my attraction to him and intrigued at the same time. It felt like I was
betraying Chase if I stared at him for even a second more, so I looked away, focusing on a spot on the wall that was chipped
and peeling. Chase would’ve fixed that if he were still here. Now it’s on me to do. The paint’s in the garage… I just haven’t
had the willpower to do anything—even breathing has become exhausting.
There was a long pause before he spoke, almost like he was hesitant to answer.
“I was informed that you were struggling emotionally and may be in need of my services,” he finally answered. “Looks like
he was right.”
“He?” I honestly didn't need him to give me a name. I already knew. Reggie. He was my rich as fuck boss who has been
questioning my mental stability lately. He had to be the he Nicholas was referring to.
“Your boss.”
I fucking knew it.
“Ugh, that asshole needs to learn how to stay out of my fucking business. Instead, he sends his hot, studly, covered in sexy
tattoos, Fairy God Pecker here to save my life.” I rolled my eyes; I couldn't help myself.
“Displaced anger is natural in times like this, Ruby. He was just trying to help.”
“So, what exactly do you do besides break into people's homes and stick your dirty fingers down their throats?”
He chuckled. “Well, I'm the owner and founder of a non-profit called The Guiding Light. Our organization receives tips
from loved ones and friends about others they think might be struggling emotionally, physically, or mentally. We specialize in
suicide prevention, but also work with those battling addictions.”
“And here you are… PREVENTING me from leaving this goddamn sorry excuse for a world. Why? Why not just let me be
to finish what I started?”
He stared at me strangely, almost like he was asking himself the same question inside of his head.
“About a year ago, I lost my best friend when he took a gun, put it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. I never knew he was
struggling, even though all the signs were there. He became aloof and withdrew from the world. He stopped caring about his
appearance and drank all his problems away. He was suffering from depression—a bad depression. He felt alone, forgotten,
and like he didn't belong here. Instead of seeking help, he felt the best course of action was to leave this earth completely. I was
the one who found him, and I never forgave myself for not being there for him when he needed me. I vowed from that point on,
to help any person that needed me and was struggling with depression and thoughts of suicide. Sometimes people don't want my
help, sometimes they do. There are times where I show up and barely make it in time to save them, like now, then there are
other times I show up and I'm too late. Something inside me tells me you're worth saving, Ruby. And now that I'm here, I'm
going to do everything in my power to help you.”
I swatted away his still outstretched hand, and not-so-gracefully climbed to my feet. The blood rushed to my head from
moving too quickly, and he caught me when I swayed. “I didn’t ask you to save me. There’s no point.”
“You can’t mean that, Ruby.”
I laughed sarcastically, ignoring the burn in my throat. “But I do. My husband’s gone. He was all I had holding me to this
world. The total of people that gave a shit about me died when he did.”
“I give a shit about you, darlin’.”
Laughing again, I said, “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re hurting, and you feel like you’ve lost your reason for living, but you haven’t, Ruby. You just have to find a
new reason to wake up each morning—a new purpose. Your husband wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want you to end
your life to be with him again. He would want you to live.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, Ruby, because if someone loved me and I passed away, I wouldn’t want them to do this. Think about if the roles had
been reversed. Would you have wanted your husband to follow you? Would you have wanted this for him? I don’t think you
would have.”
My heart broke further as I considered what he said and what Chase would have wanted. I wish he had lived and I had
died, but I was spared and forced to face the torment of this grief alone. He had been my gravity, and now I felt like I was
floating through life without a reason for landing.
“What would you want him to do, Ruby?” He grasped my shoulders and lightly shook me.
“I’d want him to live.”
“Thata girl.”
I watched as he smiled proudly, but inside, I still felt broken. Moving on felt like an insurmountable feat that I wasn’t sure I
could survive. “I just want him back,” I cried, breaking down as sobs racked my body and I clung to the stranger that held me in
his arms. I was a mixture of sadness, but also slightly relieved that he’d shown up when he did. He saved me, but that part of
me that was relieved was surpassed by the other part of me that was in agony over the thought of continuing this life alone
without Chase by my side.
What was the point of living without him?
And why was God intervening now?
Chapter Three

Grief and sorrow shucked off her in waves. For almost an hour, I held the beautiful widow in my arms, her thin body
shaking from the sheer force of her sobs. I refused to move. I wasn’t going to let her go through this alone—not anymore.
Instead, I let her cling to me as she purged every emotion and ounce of grief that was plaguing her.
When she finally quieted down, I realized she’d fallen asleep in my lap, and I couldn’t help but admire her broken beauty
that was screaming for help.
Very carefully, I moved her off my lap and fit my arms underneath her sleeping body until she was lifted into the air. She
cuddled even closer against me, sighing when her ear rested against the spot on my chest where my heart was beating to an
unfamiliar rhythm.
I felt strangely drawn to her, like I was supposed to intervene and step in when I did. She whimpered when I laid her down
on the mattress and covered her with the comforter. Her room was a mess, and I needed to clean her up and report the incident,
so there was a record of it happening. This was the part of my job that was never pleasant. I felt like I was sharing a part of
them that they didn’t want to be seen. Luckily, Scorpio’s woman was the new town sheriff, and I knew she could be discreet
about everything if I notified her.
“This is Juliette,” she said, after she picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Juliette, this is Cap.”
“Oh hey, Cap! How’s it going? I’m here with Duncan if you need to talk to him.”
This was the awkward part. “Actually, I need to talk to you.” There was a lot of noise going on in the background, and I
realized she was probably at the clubhouse.
“What’s up?” she asked when the sound in the background died down. “Is everything okay?”
“No, not really. I’m at the residence of a Mrs. Ruby Tyler. She…” My voice trailed off as I took a step out of the room,
noticing that Mrs. Tyler was stirring on the bed.
“She tried to kill herself?” she questioned, obviously knowing where I was going with this.
“Yeah, but I stopped her. I need you to come down here if you can, but, if at all possible, not bring your squad car or
anything else that might be threatening to her. I have a feeling that she’s a bit skittish.”
“Understood. Do I need to bring a paramedic with me?”
“She really should go to the hospital. I’m hoping a woman might be able to help me convince her to go.”
“I can bring Archer with me, if you like? He’s just bullshitting with Pincher in the corner. They’re not really doing
anything.”
“Sure, that might be good. I think I got most of the meds out of her system, but it wouldn’t hurt to be one hundred percent
sure.”
There was a bit of a silence before Juliette spoke again. You could tell there was more worry in her voice than there should
be. “How is she?”
“Broken. Shook up. The usual. How long until you can get here?” I rattled off the address to her, hoping it wouldn’t be too
long.
“I should be there in about ten minutes, give or take.”
“Okay, see you then.”
We hung up, and I immediately went back to the bedroom to tend to Ruby. She was still asleep, so I busied myself with
cleaning up the mess she made, making sure the empty bottle of the pills she took were in a bag so Juliette could look at them.
When a knock came on the door, I felt relieved. I was more concerned for Ruby than I had been for any of the people I helped
in the past.
Juliette, Scorpio, and Archer were behind the door when I opened it, the same look of concern on each of their faces.
“She’s in the bedroom,” I informed them, then showed Juliette the bottle of pills Ruby choked down. “It looks like she choked
down a full bottle of Oxy.”
“Damn, she’s fucking lucky to be alive,” Juliette murmured, taking the bag from me. “Why don’t I go in first? Archer, you
come in after I'm done speaking with Mrs. Tyler.”
Archer nodded.
Juliette quickly left the room and disappeared behind the hard oak door. The second she was gone, both of my brothers
turned to me.
“I don’t know how you do it, Cap,” Scorpio said in awe. “It’s like you have a gift for sensing when someone is in trouble
and saving them from themselves.”
“I’ve only been doing this for a few months, Scorpio. I’m not that good.”
Archer shook his head. “But you are. It was like you were meant to do this, Cap. It fits your personality. You always put
yourself before everyone else. It’s why you almost died a few months ago.”
I frowned.
My doctors said that all the stress and excitement happening around the club lately was just too much for my heart to
handle. They were probably right. Our club had gone from peaceful to warmongers so fast that my head was still spinning from
it all. It wasn’t our fault. Somehow, we ended up on the Hell’s Artillery radar and now the 1% club was doing everything in
their power to bring us down… power our club just didn’t have.
We were doing our best to pick up the pieces, voting a new member into our club—a member who inadvertently stole
Scorpio’s bike for the same men that are trying to tear our club apart. The poor kid didn’t know any better. He was just trying to
save his sister, but she went underground at the same time the Hell’s Artillery did. But not before they sent us a disturbing
video of her being tortured because the sons of bitches poured what looked like bleach in her eyes. The poor girl was either
dead or blind, both of which were pretty much a death sentence. Needless to say, our club was doing everything we could to
help Pincher get his sister back, but the outlook wasn’t looking great.
It was the same problem we were having with Scorpio’s bike. The bike was in pieces, and putting it back together was
proving to be more difficult than we expected. We were half tempted to scrap the thing altogether, but Scorpio was holding on
to the family heirloom, hoping by some miracle we could re-erect his father’s bike to its old glory. Between the Hell’s
Artillery constantly trying to fuck up our lives, and our small run-in with the Italian Mob, our club had gone from nobodies to
on everyone’s radar overnight. It was exhausting, and it was no wonder my heart was in the state of shambles it was in.
“So, when’s the band rolling into town?” Archer asked, referring to Grief’s Conviction, a local band that had made it big,
and was getting ready to play a big hometown show. They wanted our club to be their personal bodyguards, and every guy was
ready to volunteer—everyone except Bull. The one guy they asked for by name.
“They’ll be here next month.”
“Good, I can’t wait to see them in concert. When was the last time they were here? How long has it been? Two years?”
Archer asked.
“Four. We would’ve seen them last year had the concert gone off like it was supposed to at the rally.”
Archer nodded. “That’s right. The Hell’s Artillery just have this uncanny way to fuck shit up for us. You think she’s gotten
over her bullshit feud with Bull?”
“Probably not. Those two have a tumultuous relationship if I ever saw one. Their chemistry was off the charts, but they
can’t be in one room together for very long, otherwise they’ll kill each other,” I answered.
“Wonder why they specifically asked for him then?”
“Probably because they know he’s the best.”
Archer nodded. Scorpio was just standing there listening to us. When Grief’s Conviction rolled into town the last time,
Bull revealed that he had sparked a little romance with their lead singer Misery. But it didn’t last long. Now the two could
barely talk without wanting to rip each other apart. Scorpio was only a member at the time, so he didn’t have as much
responsibility as he does now. It was his father Zenith, our late Prez, who was here at the time, and one of the few of us that
actually interacted with the band.
Juliette chose that moment to walk out of the bedroom. “Archer, I need you, please.”
Archer started to walk toward her just as Juliette added, “She wants you to be in there as well, Cap.”
I don’t know why the idea of her wanting me in the room made my heart soar the way it did, but it suddenly felt like a
strong eagle thumping wildly inside my chest. Scorpio stayed behind, not wanting to scare the poor girl any more than she
probably already was. I entered the room after Archer, and Ruby’s blue eyes hit me with a look of relief, one I felt in my core.
She was frightened, and I knew she was probably a little angry that I called the cops.
“Mrs. Tyler, this is Archer. He was a medic in the armed forces. He’s going to look you over, and then I’m going to have to
take you to the hospital as a precautionary measure.”
Her ocean-colored eyes found mine, and the guilt in them spoke volumes. She was embarrassed about what she had done,
and afraid of how people would look at her.
“Do I have to go?”
Juliette nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s protocol when someone tries to take their own life that we immediately take them
to the hospital. The only reason you aren’t there now is because Cap requested that I come first with Archer.”
“Cap?”
I held up my hand. “That’s my club name, Darlin’. I’m the Road Captain for the Celestial Sons MC here in town.”
“A motorcycle club?”
“Yup, the best one in town.”
She frowned. “My late husband once prospected a motorcycle club. That’s his bike out there. Well, I guess it's my bike
now.”
“It’s a really nice bike,” Juliette complimented.
“Thanks,” Ruby mumbled weakly.
“What club was your husband a part of?” Archer asked, assessing her the best he could with minimal tools.
She looked up at him and sighed. “He prospected for the Hell’s Artillery MC, but decided to get out before becoming a
member. Do you know them?”
We all looked at each other, our stomachs plummeting at the same time.
If Ruby was a member’s Ol’ Lady, did that mean she still belonged to the club?
“Yeah, Darlin’, we know them,” I answered.
She frowned.
“I hate them,” she admitted. “I wish they were all dead.”
Archer raised a brow, his mind running the same way mine was.
Why did Ruby hate the Hell’s Artillery?
And what the fuck made her husband want to leave?
Chapter Four

“You have a visitor, Ruby.”


I looked away from the window towards the nurse who was smiling softly at me, but had definite pity in her eyes. That was
the same look I hated, and the one that I had seen over and over again before even arriving at the hospital in Austin.
“I don’t want to see him,” I told the nurse, knowing exactly who was out there waiting to see me. It was his fault I was here
in the first place. Not only did he stop me from reuniting with Chase, but he brought me to the hospital, who in turn, threw me in
the looney bin. That’s what they did with people like me—discard them and put them in a padded room with other crazy
people.
My roommate’s name was Sabrina, a woman who sat on her bed rocking back and forth, muttering to herself at every
waking hour. I didn’t know what her issue was, but I hoped they were able to help her, and I wished they would just leave me
alone.
“It may do you some good, seeing someone from home who cares.”
I laughed sarcastically. “He found me. That’s all there is to it. Nobody cares if I live or die. The only one that would have
given a fuck is dead himself.”
The nurse frowned. “That’s not true, Ruby.”
“You think so?” I stood up and looked at the nurse, anger and frustration rolling through my body in waves. “If he hadn’t
found me when he did, the state would have been burying me. My parents turned their back on me when I chose my husband,
and now he’s gone, and I’ll never get him back.”
I didn’t realize I was yelling or crying until a doctor came into the room. My body was shaking, and I screamed at them to
leave me alone. I screamed for Chase until arms wrapped around me and a needle sunk into my arm.
The world around me went fuzzy, and for once, I was able to sleep without the memories of the night Chase died waking me
up. Those moments always seemed to fester in my brain, but for that single night, I didn’t hear the squeal of tires, or the echoing
scream of his yell of surprise. More importantly, I didn’t see the haunted look in his eyes right before impact. That look will
always haunt me, almost as much as the aftermath that came from the crash. You can’t unsee a body hanging halfway through the
windshield among blood-painted shattered glass and chunks of flesh embedded with twisted metal. That jumbled kaleidoscope
of grotesque images will forever taint my soul.

“I told them to tell you to leave.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, protectively. There was something about the man
standing in front of me that gave me chills. Almost like he could see through all the walls I’d built around myself, taking in the
broken woman hiding within. It terrified me almost as much as living without Chase.
Cap’s eyes were focused on the white, speckled, tiled floor. His thick arms rested on his knees, and the tattoos that covered
his arms and chest peeked out from under his shirt, making his caramel-colored skin even hotter. At the sound of my voice, he
looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. Relief flashed in those dark orbs, and I felt a tiny piece of my wall crumble.
“I know, but you don’t have anyone in your corner, so I decided to be the one pulling for you—even if you aren’t pulling for
yourself.”
I swallowed hard. A ball of emotion stuck in my throat as I took the seat across from him. It was awkward because I didn’t
know what to say. The man in front of me had seen me at my absolute worst, lowest point, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able
to right my life again, or if I even wanted to try.
“I’m still mad at you,” I grumbled quietly.
He smirked at me a little. “Good, be mad. If you’re mad, it means you’re still alive.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “You’re insufferable.”
“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “How are you doing, Ruby?”
At least he wasn’t looking at me with eyes full of pity. Just interest and concern swarmed those pools of chocolate.
“I’m ready to get out of here.”
“I don’t blame you. If the food is anything like the hospital’s food, then dying of starvation seems to be the way to go.” His
light chuckle rumbled through his chest at his own joke, “Hopefully, they’ll release you soon, but what are you going to do
when they do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You got lucky last time, Ruby, because I got there in time. When you get out, how are you going to move past your grief?”
“That’s not your problem, Cap,” I quipped, emphasizing his road name.
“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less concerned about your wellbeing.”
I took a deep breath and looked at the people around the room. A few other patients had visitors, but some were sitting on
their own, looking forlorn and off in another world entirely. I would have been sitting by myself if it weren’t for the man across
from me showing up without my permission. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to forgive him yet.
“You should give up on me. I’m damaged and broken,” I finally muttered, meeting his gaze again.
“Everybody is damaged in some way, Ruby. Your pain doesn’t define you unless you let it.”
“You’re an eternal optimist, aren’t you?”
He threw me a sexy grin. “Guilty. Drives some of my brothers crazy.”
“They aren’t the only ones.” I shook my head. “What do you know about pain?”
The look that flashed in his eyes was undeniable, and I almost regretted asking as soon as I saw the look on his face.
Almost.
“That friend I told you about… well, I served with him overseas. He came back messed up after watching his transport get
blown apart and all of his friends along with it. Somehow, he survived, but it wasn’t without guilt.” He looked away and lifted
a hand to scratch the black beard covering his handsome face. “Survivor’s guilt is a hard thing to move past, Ruby. Add losing
his wife, house, and everything that kept him grounded, and that guilt intensifies. I knew he was hurting, but I was too busy to
see the warning signs.”
I watched as pain etched across his face and horrible memories took over. My heart squeezed in my chest and for some
reason I hurt for this man I barely knew. “You said you found him—” I didn't even want to speak the words.
“Yeah... I found him in his apartment after a few days of him not answering his phone.”
Guilt. I knew what that felt like. It’s all I felt after surviving a car wreck Chase didn’t. It was suffocating, like trying to
breathe through water. Add that to the pain of watching the love of my life die right beside me, and life just became too
overwhelming. It’s why I tried to end it all in the first place. “I’m sorry about your friend.” I meant it. I was sorry that he had to
walk into his friend’s house and be confronted with that scene. I couldn't even imagine the pain and anguish he must’ve felt
seeing his friend’s body lying there, or that haunting image of someone’s final cry for help coming to a bitter and painful end. A
fresh wave of guilt hit me. God, Cap almost found me in a similar situation.
My eyes migrated to the open window. Beyond it was a vast blue sky with scattered bits of white fluffy clouds. Through
those clouds peeked out heavenly bits of sun, almost like Chase was holding a spotlight from heaven just so I could find him.
“Me too.” I could hear the grief in his voice, and it made me want to comfort him. He sat there stoically, but behind that
wall of strength was a valley of pain he was sinking in. He sighed. “I’ll never forget that night. It was the night that I made a
promise to myself that I’d never let another person suffer in silence, and that I would always be there to help people and really
listen to them when they were in pain. That’s why I started my organization.”
“You took your pain and turned it into something positive.”
He half laughed. “Yeah, I guess I did. That’s the eternal optimist in me.”
“I didn’t think badass bikers could be eternal optimists?”
He shrugged. “I guess most aren’t, but I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life. I survived a lot of shit in the last seven months, and
it was the wake-up call I needed to remind me to live life to its fullest, and touch as many lives as I can in the process.”
“And now I’m one of those lives?”
“Right now, you’re the one that matters most.”
I couldn’t figure him out. Why did my life seem to matter to him so much? Nothing about it made any sense. I was nobody to
him, just another malfunctioning blip on life’s shitty fucking radar.
My eyes went back to the window, longing to glow in that spotlight shining down from the heavens. “My life died with my
husband.”
My entire body erupted into flames when I felt the warmth of his palm cross over mine. It was such a small gesture, but it
was enough to break my focus on the window and give it back to the man who was fighting for a life I had already given up on.
“I refuse to believe that, Ruby. When you get out of here, I’m going to be there to help you find your peace.”
“There is no peace in a world without Chase.”
He frowned, then carefully gripped my hand. “Maybe not, but my heart says otherwise, Ruby. You were spared for a
reason, and I’m determined to help you find what that reason is. But that’s going to take time, and the first step in helping you
release your grief is getting you out of here.”
“Oh yeah? And how are you supposed to do that?” I reached into my pocket and showed him the pills they’d been feeding
me but I refused to take. “Not even their happy little pills could make me happy.”
He frowned, then gently reached over and took the pills away from me. My stomach coiled as I watched them leave my
palm. He knew why I was keeping them, and the fear in his eyes said everything without saying a word. “Why were you
keeping these?” he questioned, his voice dropping into a whisper.
“You know why?”
There was no mistaking the hurt and pain that filled his eyes. “I need to get you out of here.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to help you, Ruby, but that’s not going to happen if you’re stuck in here just hoarding pills away until
you have enough to try again...” Anger shook through his body. I thought he was going to march over to the nurse and sell me
out, but he didn’t. Instead, he stuffed the pills in his pocket, walked straight over to my psychiatrist, and motioned toward
where I was sitting. She nodded, scribbled a few things down, then handed him a slip of paper.
He strutted back over with a confident smile, one I found very attractive, but at the same time, scared the shit out of me.
“What was that all about?”
“Your prison break.”
“Huh?”
He grinned. “I’m getting you out of here, Ruby.”
My eyes crossed with confusion. “How the hell did you manage that? Shrinky over there said I was a lost cause.”
He laughed. “Lucky for you, I’m the king at helping lost causes find their way.”
“I still don’t understand. Why is she letting me go?”
“Because I told her that being in here was doing more damage than good. Then I suggested you be left in my care for a
month to see if I can help you work through your grief.”
“Left in your care? What the fuck does that mean?”
He shrugged. “That’s your choice, Ruby. Either, I can come home with you and stay on your couch for the month, or you can
come stay with me in the clubhouse.”
“Oh hell no. That’s not fucking happening.”
“Okay, I guess you’re stuck here then.”
I looked over at Sabrina the mutterer. She was standing in the corner talking to the wall. Two feet from her was a woman
playing with puppets made out of socks, and to the left of her was the crazy woman who was always scratching her skin. There
was no way in hell I wanted to stay here another day, but I also didn’t want to go with Cap, either.
He started to move toward the door, taking my freedom along with him. This was my only chance to make a break for it,
and I wasn’t about to give it up just because he was inviting himself along.
“Okay, I’ll go with you, but I refuse to go to your clubhouse.” I tried to push back the bile that rose up my throat when a
memory from my past pushed its way into my mind. That was something I needed to keep locked away, and there was no way
in hell I was going to go anywhere that would bring it back full circle.
He grinned. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll come back to get you in a few hours.”
“You’re leaving me here?”
Cap turned to face me. “Well, you don’t want to go to my clubhouse, so I’m going to have to go there on my own to get my
things.”
“You could just drop me off at my house,” I offered, liking the idea of being alone.
He closed the gap between us, and slightly cupped my face. “I’m sorry, Ruby, but I can’t leave you alone like that, not
unless I know for sure that you’ve worked through your grief. I’ll be back in a few hours. I promise.”
Then, before I could enjoy the warmth of his palm against my cheek, he pulled away, leaving me standing there in a puddle
of my own abandoned misery.
Chapter Five

I pieced together the last of my things, throwing them all in a few duffle bags before heading out into the bar area of the
clubhouse. Zodiac, Bull, Scales, and Leo were all standing there waiting for me, arms crossed, with concerned yet also a tad
pissed off expressions on each of their faces.
“Tell me again, Cap, why you think you need to leave the club for a whole month?” Zodiac questioned.
“Because, Prez, she needs my help.”
“Ah, so it’s a woman pulling him away,” Bull said with a grin. “Knew he wouldn’t be running away from the club over a
man.”
Scales laughed. “Cap, when you asked the club if you could do this business on the side, you said it wouldn’t interfere with
the club. Having you on a constant watch of a woman for a month definitely constitutes interfering with club business.”
“She won’t come here, Scales. I can’t do anything about it.”
Leo took a swig from his beer, his angry gaze finding mine. “So, you’re choosing some woman you just met over the
goddamn club?”
Leo was always a hostile person, but he seemed overly sensitive today.
“No, the club always comes first.” I swiveled my gaze, so it fixated on Zodiac. “But she needs me, Prez. I can’t explain
why, but something is telling me that I need to do this. I promise that if anything comes up with the club, Church, whatever, I’ll
be here. But this girl is on the verge of ending everything if she’s not watched closely, and what kind of man would I be if I just
let her slip through the cracks like all the others?”
Zodiac scrubbed at his chin and sighed. “Fine, but if the club needs you for anything, you’re going to have to leave her,
Cap. You’re our Road Captain, and we need you at every meeting and club function. Plus, Grief’s Conviction is going to be
here at the end of the month.”
“I know. I just need a month, Zodiac. One whole month to piece her back together.”
“And what if you can’t?” Leo boomed. “What if she’s so far gone that her grief swallows her up and sucks out her soul?” A
familiar ghostly gaze swept over his deep blue eyes. It was the look he returned home with that didn’t seem to ever go away.
Leo didn’t like to talk about his past, but I could tell that his past was still with him, toying with every emotion he had left. The
man was slowly killing himself, and he was one of the major reasons why I always stayed at the clubhouse. Whether he liked it
or not, Leo will always be my best friend, and I was going to be there for him as much as I could, but the difference between
him and Ruby was everything. He had all of us, while she had nothing.
“I have to try, Leo. The girl deserves a good life, one where she isn’t hurting every day.”
He took another drink, his fingers clutching the glass like he wanted to break it.
“Hurt isn’t something you just get over, Cap. It lingers and haunts until every breath is overwhelmed by it and just the
thought of existing is too much for you.”
Bull put a friendly hand on Leo’s back, but all it did was anger Leo more. “Don’t touch me.”
Bull laughed. “Sorry, I forgot that we aren’t supposed to poke the lion.”
“Fuck you, Bull.”
Scales’ phone chose that exact minute to interrupt us, and despite who was on the call, it was something we all needed to
break up the hostility floating around the room. Or so I thought.
“Yeah?”
“Rosalie, calm the fuck down.” He took a long pause, but you could hear her muffled yells through the receiver. “I’m at the
clubhouse,” he said, his voice rising. “Goddamn it, stop acting crazy. Just because I’m not doing what you want me to, doesn’t
mean you can just order me around. I’ve already given up a lot for you, and I’m not about to give up the last thing I have left to
appease your wounded ego.”
He looked around and noticed us all staring at him. Quickly, he moved to the other side of the room.
“Look, stop threatening me, you know how much that shit pisses me off. And don’t you dare bring that up! I’m getting sick
of your shit, Rosalie, it’s getting old really fast.” Another long pause. “Oh yeah? Well, fuck you, too!”
He threw his phone across the room shattering it into a hundred pieces.
Zodiac was at his side within seconds, trying to calm the man down. “Dude, chill.”
“Fuck her,” Scales seethed, his fists tightening. “After what she did to you and Tess, she’s lucky I’m still with her.”
“Why are you still with her?” Zodiac questioned.
“You know why.” His voice was bitter and filled with resentment. Scales had something he was hiding from the club, and it
looked like Zodiac was one of the only men who knew about it.
Zodiac nodded. “I know, but everything is going to be okay. We can get you help if you need it.”
“With what, Ulrich? A divorce?”
Zodiac shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’ve been with this woman for half my life, and you’re asking me to give up on her now?”
“Do you want to make it work?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I want right now. Actually, I just want the club to get off my ass and stop giving me ultimatums
when it comes to the club and my relationship. I know what I signed up for when I joined the Celestial Sons, Ulrich, and I don’t
plan on turning my back on that. But I also don’t want to turn my back on my family either.”
Zodiac patted him on the back. “I understand this is hard for you, but despite what you think, the club only wants what’s
best for you.”
“Well, right now that’s you fucking letting me figure this shit out on my own.” Scales threw up his hands, picking up the
pieces of his phone as he exited the room.
Zodiac sighed, returning to his place next to the bar. “The club is in shambles,” he grumbled. “The Artillery is underground
and we’re still falling apart at the seams.”
“We were unraveling before the Artillery interfered,” Leo piped in. “You were just too blind to see it.”
“Well, I’m determined to fix it.”
“Good luck with that. The only fix to this impossible situation is bury yourself in alcohol like I do.” Leo took another swig,
finishing off his beer. “By the end of the night I won’t remember any of this.”
Zodiac sighed, turning back to me. “Cap, do what you need to do, but if the club needs you, I expect you here. Do you
understand?”
“You can count on me, Zodiac. I’ve never let the club down and I’m not about to start now.”
Zodiac clapped me on the back and smirked. “That’s what we all say before a woman does us in. Just be careful, Cap. The
last thing you need right now is any more stress in your life.”
I subconsciously rubbed at my chest, knowing he was referring to the foreign heart sitting inside of my body that was
keeping me alive.
“I know, Zodiac. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Before any of my brothers could say another word, I hoisted my two duffles up over my shoulder and slunk away from the
clubhouse, ready to go pick up Ruby and get her recovery moving.

Ruby’s glare could be felt from across the room. The woman hated me right now, and that was perfectly okay. She could
hate me all she wanted as long as she was on the right track to recovery. Her psychiatrist, Dr. Schilling was standing next to
her, holding a folder I knew all too well. I’d seen countless folders like it over the last few months, but none of my clients were
as far gone as Ruby, she was suffering from a catastrophic loss, one I didn’t know if I could mend.
I stopped just in front of her and smiled. “Hey, you ready?”
“Mr. Kane, Ms. Tyler…”
“Mrs. Tyler,” Ruby butted in, glaring at me. “My husband may be dead but I haven’t stopped being his wife just because
he’s no longer here.” She toyed with her wedding ring, the glint of the small diamond hitting the light above it just right. I was
surprised they let her wear it in here. They should’ve removed it when she was admitted.
Dr. Schilling let out a long sigh. “Mrs. Tyler has informed me that you two don’t know each other very well, and isn’t
comfortable being left in your care. I have advised her of our previous working relationships and assured her that you only
have her best interest at heart. However, if Mrs. Tyler isn’t comfortable with you being… well, let’s just call you her guardian
for now, until she’s successfully worked through the demons trying to drag her down, then I’m advising for a prolonged stay for
her here at the hospital under my supervision until she’s deemed medically and mentally able to return home and function
without having daily thoughts of suicide.”
“What? That’s not what you said a few minutes ago. You said I could go home.”
Dr. Schilling nodded. “I also said that you needed someone to be responsible for you on the outside, someone that you
could talk to that would help you work through your issues.”
“I’m suffering inside. How is that a fucking issue?”
This wasn’t our first rodeo. Dr. Schilling, or Samantha as I knew her, had been working beside me for the last few months
with several patients going through various degrees of grief. I wasn’t a licensed professional like she was, but I often found
people were more comfortable talking to someone like me, than sitting on a couch with her. My last client, Darrius, was a man
grieving the loss of his son, blaming himself for the accidental death that broke him and his wife apart. It was a hard case to
swallow, because I hated seeing anyone suffering, but Darrius found me to be relatable, and we found a way for him to
overcome his grief amidst all the misery he was putting himself through. He found a new love for fishing, and we used that as a
way to cope and talk about what happened to his son, letting go of the guilt he was holding in. Now he’s thriving, and I still call
him once a week to check on him, and go fishing with him at least twice a month.
Samantha gave her a half-hearted smile. “Until you can let go of Chase, Ruby, you’ll always be in this constant state of
darkness.”
Ruby took a step back, tears threatening to take over her beautiful eyes. “Let go? Let go!” Her voice rose so much that
everyone in the room was now staring at her. The hurt and pain was evident in the way her voice wobbled and shook with
anger. “You’re asking me to let go of the only person who gave a damn about me? You want me to forget the one person who
grounded me in ways you’ll never understand? You might as well be asking me to snuff out all the love inside of me because
once Chase is gone, there will be nothing left. I’m already an empty shell, now you’re asking me to let go of the only thing
keeping me alive?”
Her dramatics were warranted but also a little over the top. Just because she was suffering inside, didn’t mean that she
needed to just give up on life.
“Look, Ruby. I know I’m probably not the person you envisioned as being your guardian angel, but I can assure you that my
tactics and past clients have all successfully worked through similar grieving situations. They still love the ones who passed,
but realized that they can continue moving on without them. It’s going to be hard, and you’ll hate me ninety percent of the time,
but I promise you it will all be worth it if you just have a little faith.”
I held out my hand, hoping to God that she would put her faith in me and let me help her work through all this shifting
turmoil she has inside.
She stared at my hand with great scrutiny, looking between me and Dr. Schilling as if she was conflicted on what the best
choice for her future would be? If she chose to go with me, there was no guarantee I could help her work through her loss like I
was trying to promise, but I also knew if she stayed here, it would just eat away her soul bit by bit. This was no place for
someone like Ruby, she needed to be nurtured and cared for, not locked away and treated like a mental patient. The only thing
mental about her was that she was fighting her grief, and that was one thing I knew how to work through very well. Hell, I was
still working on mine every day, but at least I had this business to help me get through it.
That’s when it hit me.
If fishing helped Darrius find his inner peace, and opening the doors to Guiding Light helped me find mine, all I had to do
was help Ruby find her purpose in this world. There had to be something out there that could help her calm the rage of emotion
swirling inside her, and according to my contract—a contract she had yet to sign, I only had one month to do it.
“Come on, Ruby, what do you have to lose?” I asked, extending my hand even further.
Her eyes shut together painfully, and she sighed. “Nothing, I guess.” I felt her palm fit in my hand, the coldness of it didn’t
go unnoticed. This woman needed my help, and I was just the man to give it to her.
Dr. Schilling handed me the form to sign her out of the hospital, then I handed the Guiding Light contract over for Ruby to
sign.
“What’s this?”
“A binding contract between you and me. Go ahead and read it over. It explains my services and the duration of our time
together.”
“You’re not asking for payment?” she asked curiously, reading down the page.
“No, ma’am. Everything I do is strictly non-profit. My only request is that you go into this with an open mind and heart.”
She kept reading. “And I only have to put up with you for a month?”
I nodded. “Yes, if by the end of the month you aren’t completely satisfied with my services, our contract will end, nothing
will be extended, and all obligations I have to being your guardian will cease at your approval.”
“Any clauses about no touching?”
Dr. Schilling held in her laughter. Covering her smile with her hand.
“Absolutely, I will only touch you if you ask me to.”
She took the pen away from Dr. Schilling and signed the contract.
“Fine, you got one month, Nicholas, but if shit ain’t solved by then, you need to walk out my door and never return.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
But I had no intention of ever leaving Ruby’s side. Something inside of me was calling out to her, and the way my heart
skipped extra beats when she was around left me with everything I needed to know. Ruby was meant for me. Now I just had to
prove it to her as well.
Chapter Six

I sat quietly in his truck, glaring out the window, not really seeing anything as the city faded behind us. Cap had put two big
duffles in the back, and I changed into the new clothes he brought me before we left. The clothes were a little snug across the
breasts and hips, but otherwise they were okay. I almost asked who they belonged to, but then that would mean I had to speak to
him and I wasn’t ready for that.
There’s that saying that misery loves company, but in my case, I don’t. I like to stew in my misery and anger. People just
annoy me, and the fact that Cap and the good doctor back at the hospital worked something out for me, really grated on my
nerves. Who were they to control where and what I did with my life? I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What did it
matter? I would do whatever I could to get him out of my house and life as soon as possible. If that meant I had to fake progress
and happiness, then so be it.
“What do you like to eat?” Cap asked, breaking the silence.
“Why?”
“Do you have any food allergies?”
“No. You don’t have to wait on me, Cap. I’ve been keeping myself alive since the crash,” I shrugged. “For the most part at
least.”
“I’m not waiting on you. I just like to eat, and I’m not going to make something you won’t eat when we get back to your
house.” He shrugged like it was nothing.
“I don’t know if I have anything at the house that you would want to eat. Hell, the stuff in my fridge is probably bad
already.”
“That’s what prospects are for, Ruby.”
I was quiet for a moment, remembering when Chase had prospected for his old friend’s club. Shivers ran through my body
involuntarily at the rough memory of the brief time he had hooked up with the Hell’s Artillery. Chase’s friend from school was
called Bazooka, and the man was massive with arms as big as my thighs that were hard and rolling with muscles. I swear he
looked like he was juicing because his big frame was way too big for his head, and his anger issues made him like a tripwire
ready to go off at any second.
Chase had found his old buddy again by accident, and the second they started hanging out, he was invited to prospect for
Bazooka’s club. A cold shiver crept down my spine as visions of our last night at the clubhouse wreaked havoc in my brain.
The smell of stale beer, and used up pussy was a permanent fixture in my nose, just like the sounds of my muffled
screams when massive hands covered my mouth and carried me into a room in the back. Their inebriated laughter was a
wicked memory I couldn’t shake, just like the out-of-body experience my body went through as I was passed around like one
of their cheap whores, and my screams became an internal silence. I saw the way their president had looked at me… the
unwanted desire in his eyes, the way he licked his lips with need. It was like I could feel it coming before it even happened,
and Chase couldn’t do anything about it, even though he tried.
When Chase burst into the room and tried to tear them off of me, one of the members held a gun to his head, forcing him
to watch. They told him that it was part of his initiation, that in order for him to be a part of their club, they had to test out
my holes… all of them.
“Watch them fuck your filthy whore, Prospect,” the member with the gun said with a wicked laugh. “Look at her eyes,
she’s enjoying getting dicked.” With his free hand he started groping his cock, waiting for his own turn with me. “I can’t
wait to feel that mouth around my cock.”
Four of them had their way with me… and besides Baretta, their president, I had no idea who a single one of them were.
For one horrifying hour, they held Chase’s eyes open, and despite the tears that were pooling, not a single one rolled
down his face. A tear would be a sign of weakness—something he couldn’t show in a club like that. When they were done,
they left me there discarded on the floor, like the filthy whore they made me out to be, throwing me at his feet. Before he
could comfort me, they beat the shit out of him, until he fell to his knees beside me and collapsed. All I remember before I
blacked out was his hand curling over mine, and the weak, “I’m sorry” that left his lips, as they carried both of our bodies
out of the clubhouse and discarded us into the ditch behind it.
I’ll never forget them or that night. And it’s the main reason I will never step foot in another clubhouse ever again. I don’t
care what Cap says… all biker clubs are bad… and I refuse to put myself in a situation like that ever again.
I can’t.
I won’t.
The sad part was that we were both down for Chase joining the club, but after that night, Chase made a choice then and
there to walk away, choosing me over the brotherhood he had always longed for. It wasn’t until later that we found out Bazooka
had told Baretta that Chase wanted out, and this was their way of letting him go… rape his woman, then beat the fuck out of him
until he was barely breathing. The men of the Hell’s Artillery were scary as fuck, had tempers that made my skin crawl, and
were extremely dangerous. I think Chase knew they were outside the law going in, but I don’t think he expected them to be as
bad as they were.
He chose me over that fucked up club, and I chose him over my stuck-up, judgmental family. We were a team–a packaged
deal. It was literally the two of us against the world. He was my ride or die, and now that he’s gone, I don’t know how to
breathe without him. I don’t know how to exist without him.
Silent tears slid down my face as my heart broke down again over the loss of the only man I’ve ever loved. I brushed the
tears away, hating them for the sign of weakness they were. Processing emotions is something I’d never been good at. That
mostly stemmed from my childhood and not being allowed to feel or react. When you have parents in places of political power,
you learn to hide everything behind a mask or the press will eat you alive. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me I was having a
mental breakdown caused by depression, anxiety, and grief. It was incredibly clear to me what was going on, but I wasn’t sure
how to stop it or if I had the energy to even try at this point. I was so tired of being held together by tenuous threads of what
was left of my soul.
Cap pulled up in front of my house and turned off the car. I looked over at the bike that had been sitting under the carport for
far too long. I didn’t ride by myself, and Chase’s bike was sitting under a bright blue tarp. I hated looking at it because it was a
reminder of him. His bike was his second love, and looking at the beautiful chrome machine made my heart ache even more.
He must’ve been watching my actions because his next words stunned me. “When’s the last time you rode?”
“Before Chase died. I’m not sure I can bring myself to ride again. I should sell the bikes.” My heart clenched as I looked
toward the bigger bike–Chase’s bike. “Both of them.” I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of his things. Keeping Chase’s stuff
around made it feel like he was still there, like his ghost would suddenly walk in wearing his favorite shirt, and that cologne
bottle in the bathroom would be used, filling the room with his warm scent. None of it had been moved, and I don’t think I
could bring myself to throw any of it away.
“Don’t make big decisions when you’re hurting, Ruby. That’s rule number one.”
“Like selling bikes?”
He nodded. “And deciding to end your life.”
I looked away from him. “People who take their lives are always hurting. If they weren’t hurting, they wouldn’t do it.”
“I know. That’s why it’s rule number one. When you’re grieving, hurting, or angry, you can’t be trusted to make wise
decisions. Your judgment is compromised.”
“Makes sense.” I shrugged.
“You ready to go in?” Cap nodded toward the house as he reached up and pulled the keys from the ignition.
“Yeah.” I pushed the door open and grabbed my purse that the hospital had kept locked up while I was imprisoned inside
their facility. My keys were buried inside the bottom of it, and I fished them out while Cap grabbed his bags from the backseat
of his truck.
The sound of the door shutting behind Cap seemed to fill the space. It was the first time anyone had been in my house since
Chase passed away, apart from when Cap found me. He was definitely the only man I’d ever been alone with in this space, and
it felt like a betrayal to my husband. I ran my thumb across my wedding ring. The small fake diamond was all he could afford
when we first got engaged, and I treasured it. Even when we could have replaced the cheap ring, I didn’t let him. It was bought
with love and was the symbol of the start of our life together.
“You okay?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s just you’re the first person that’s been in here with me since Chase. Not counting the other
day.” I shrugged.
“We could always move you into the clubhouse, Ruby. That option is still open. I can assure you that the Celestial Sons
aren’t like the Hell’s Artillery.”
I was already shaking my head before he even finished his suggestion. There was no way in hell I was going near the
clubhouse. My mind wasn’t even made up about Cap yet, much less the rest of his club. There was no way I was putting myself
in that situation. I had a chance at fighting off one man, but I couldn’t fight off a whole MC if they had nefarious intentions for
me like the Hell’s Artillery did.
“No.” My voice was hoarse and coming out breathy. Memories of my husband’s brief time with the club flooded me. I
hated the way the men treated the women in that club from the start, but I figured it was the women who chose to stay in that
environment and they liked to be treated like crap. I loved Chase, but if he ever treated me like that, I would’ve walked away.
He made some bad decisions, like drinking too much at a party and driving, but he also made the decision to leave the club
the second they used me as a cum catcher. I know he did his best to protect me that night, and even though he failed miserably,
we both crawled away when it was necessary, releasing us from that ungodly place before it was too late, and he got patched
in permanently. ‘Once a member of the Hell’s Artillery… always a member of the Hell’s Artillery.’ That was their motto. ‘If
you wear our patch, you leave when you’re six feet under.’ If it wasn’t for their prospect escape clause, I don’t know if our
marriage would have survived. I saw how the sweet butts looked at Chase. They stared at him like he was a slab of beef, and
they were hungry lionesses looking for their next meal. It would’ve only been a matter of time before one of those whores sunk
their teeth into him, and severed the bond we shared.
That’s one thing about Chase I always loved. He was faithfully devoted to me, and I never doubted his love for me.
In all our years together, that doubt never once crossed my mind, but being in the Hell’s Artillery clubhouse for those few
months did make me start to question what road our relationship would’ve gone down, had he stayed any longer. It caused a lot
of unnecessary arguments between us. Arguments we never had before he started prospecting that club. But leaving had its own
repercussions. He started drinking more after he left… and I wondered if it was because he was suffering in his own mental
anguish over what happened to me? Chase wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, and he usually kept them pretty close to his
chest. Deep down, I know he blamed himself for what happened to me, even though I told him it was never his fault.
Cap’s voice invaded my thoughts, bringing me back to existence. “Okay.” He paused, setting his stuff down by the front
door. “I’m here to help you, Ruby. I’d never lay a finger on you without permission to do so. I’m not a monster. I know you
were around the Hell’s Artillery, and I don’t know how long your husband was around the club, but I can’t even imagine the
shit you saw while you were there. They are the worst of the worst, and give all MCs a bad name, but sometimes MCs are just
a group of men who are close friends, have each other's backs, and try their damnedest to survive the day to day.” He shrugged.
“We all have our crosses to bear. Having a group to help carry the burden makes your load a little lighter. That’s what the
Celestial Sons are for me.”
“You make it sound like a support group.” I smirked a little at the thought, picturing a bunch of big burly bikers sitting in a
circle talking about their feelings and shit. Yeah, I’d pay money to see that.
“In a way it is.” He grinned. “I support them, and they support me. We pooled our money together to open the strip club. It’s
been a successful business for all of us. Getting a steady monthly income and taking turns working at the club, gives us a lot of
free time. Most of the guys have other side hustles or businesses they run. We are more than just a club, Ruby, we’re family.”
Family. Chase was the only family I had. Now, I was on my own. I swallowed hard just thinking about everything I had
lost.
“Let’s have a seat so we can talk about how this is going to work.”
Cap’s hand hovered over my lower back as I turned toward the small living room. Our house wasn’t big or grand. It was
quite small. The kitchen had a tiny peninsula that had two stools at it, and it opened up into the living room where there was
barely enough room for the couch and recliner. The TV was mounted to the wall, and a skinny lamp was in the corner. It was
simple, but this house had brought Chase and I so much happiness. The two-bedroom one bath house was ours. We’d both
worked for it, and the years we had here were happy.
I sat on the couch, and Cap chose to sit on the recliner so we could talk. “The doctor set you up with a psychiatrist in
Brownwood. We’ll have to go there twice a week so he can check in on you. That is part of the stipulations for you leaving the
hospital.”
“Y’all told me that before I left the hospital.”
Cap nodded. “Your boss said that your job would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back.”
“You talked to Mr. Whittingham?”
“Yeah. He was perturbed by the inconvenience.”
I laughed sarcastically. “That’s Mr. Whittingham for you.”
“What do you do for him? He didn’t tell me.”
“He’s an attorney, the only one this town really had until recently. I was his secretary.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“It’s a job. A shitty one, but it helped pay the bills. Chase wanted me to quit because he didn’t care much for Mr.
Whittingham, but we needed the money.”
“Whittingham? That name sounds familiar.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it did. He was trying to sue the town for wrongful termination of the few officers that were fired
when Sheriff Rooker took over.”
“Ah, yeah. He represented those scumbag dirty cops.”
“Yeah.”
“Your husband sounds like he was a good judge of character. It’s crazy that he got tangled up with the Artillery to begin
with.”
“Chase was a great judge of character as long as it was a first impression. His friend that got him involved with the
Artillery had been friends with him before he joined the club. So, it took him a minute to see that the friend wasn’t the same
person he had grown up with. He was loyal to a fault sometimes, holding onto shit when it would have been easier, better, and
safer to let go.”
“He did let it go, though?”
“Yeah.” A little too late, I added silently.
“Okay, so let’s get some things worked out,” Cap said, changing the subject abruptly when he saw the sadness creeping
back in. “Where do you want me to sleep? I can crash on the couch, I’m not sure whether you have a spare bed in the other
room.”
I thought about his big frame trying to sleep on the narrow couch and found it funny. No way would a guy that big be able to
fit on this sofa. It would be hilarious to watch, but it wouldn’t happen. “There’s a spare bed you can have in the other room.”
“Alright.” I watched as he sat back and laced his fingers over his abdomen, his eyes studying me. “You already know rule
one. No life-changing decisions while you’re grieving.”
“Yeah. What’s rule two?”
“Do something to get out of your head each day. Go for a walk, a swim, a ride, or even just to the grocery store. You need
to be around people. Isolating yourself is only going to strengthen the loneliness and depression you feel.”
“And rule three?”
“Let’s concentrate on the first two right now. We’ll add more in later. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll make it easy on
us tonight and just order pizza. We will use tomorrow’s outing for going to the grocery store.”
My stomach grumbled at the thought of pizza. It had been a while since I ate a full meal, let alone pizza. But a shower did
sound good, so I agreed, making my way towards the bathroom.
Like it or not. For better or for worse. Cap was temporarily in my life and in my home. I didn’t know what to do or think
about that.
Closing the door, I moved toward the bathroom mirror, studying my reflection that looked so hollow and lost. The only light
I would ever find is the one that led me back to my husband. Cap could try all he wanted to fix my grief, but I was swimming in
it, and I had no problem treading that dangerous water until it slowly drowned me. Chase’s bottle of cologne was sitting in
front of me, and like always, I picked it up and spritzed some of the fragrance into the air, breathing in the ghostly scent of my
husband. “Chase,” I whispered once I felt his presence again. This is when I felt the closest to him, invigorating memories that
made it feel like he was standing right next to me and holding me in those comforting arms I desperately missed. Stripping off
my clothes, I stepped into the hot water and let the tears fall, biting my lip to keep from crying out loud. “I miss you so much.”
I heard the doorbell peal through the house, but I didn’t move from under the tepid spray. I felt mentally, emotionally, and
physically exhausted. My body and energy were spent as I leaned against the shower wall. It was the hardest and the most I had
cried since losing him, and somehow after all the tears subsided, I felt a small glimmer of relief when I saw what was sitting
on a shelf next to my head.
Chapter Seven

The delivery guy smiled at me when I handed him his ten-dollar tip. It wasn’t much, but probably would be one of the
biggest tips he’d get today. I took the two pizzas into the living room and set them on the coffee table, waiting for Ruby to come
out of the bathroom.
For a few minutes, I just sat on her couch, staring around at the different pictures on the wall. I’d seen her husband around
town, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. Bringing him up would just send her back into a tizzy, and she wasn’t emotionally
ready for that.
I moved off the couch and over to their wedding photo, picking it up from off the fireplace mantle. She looked so beautiful
in her off-white dress. Her long auburn locks were curled and falling down her back, while a section was pinned back by
bobby pins, and little sprigs of baby’s breath stuck out of the loose braid that went around her head. She looked so happy in this
picture, like there wasn’t anything in the world that could ever make her frown. Her wedding dress was a long off-white gown
that hung to the floor, with a tight black and white strapless, lace bodice that tied in the back with a big black bow. The
strapless gown showed off her tattoos so flawlessly, every inch of those intricate Japanese inspired masterpieces was on full
display, and my dick hardened ever so slightly as I admired them. Man, this woman was the epitome of perfection.
My eyes drifted to the lucky bastard next to her. Chase had somehow managed to snag the perfect girl, and just by this
picture, you could tell they were meant to be together. The man had nothing but adoration in his eyes as he took in his wife and
wore a smile that spoke volumes for all the love he had in his heart for her. His hair was a shoulder length sandy blonde, but it
was neatly pulled back into a man bun, that sat on the top of his head. He was wearing a black suit, but underneath was one of
those tuxedo shirts, the cheap ones you get as a gag gift. He wasn’t even wearing boots, just strappy tan sandals that showed off
his big feet.
There was so much love in that picture and all I felt was pathetic jealousy, wondering how a man like him scored a girl like
her?
A shiver ricocheted down my spine when I stared into his deep brown eyes, almost like the man could hear all my thoughts.
She’s been in there for a long time…
Rapid racing took over my chest when I realized the fucking mistake I just made.
“Fuck!” I growled out, angry with myself that I forgot the most important rule when dealing with someone who’s attempted
suicide. My feet were moving so fast that I could barely keep up with them, barreling toward the tiny bathroom at the end of the
hall.
You’re so stupid, Nicholas.
Steam billowed out from the small slat on the floor, and my heart sank when I heard the water running but nothing else.
Usually when someone took a shower, you could hear the spray hitting various parts of their body. But all I could hear was it
hitting the floor.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I tried the doorknob, but it was locked, and everything inside me curled with irrational fears.
“Ruby? Ruby, are you okay?”
No answer.
I should’ve checked the bathroom before she took a shower.
“Ruby, please open the door.”
Silence.
The doctor warned me to not get too overly active, otherwise it could alter the healing process and my new heart taking. I
usually tried to keep my stress levels down and my mind as calm as possible, but everything inside of me was telling me to
break down the door.
“Ruby! Goddamn it, open the door.”
Nothing. Not even a sob answered me.
Fuck it, I’ll replace her goddamn door.
Violent pain ran down my shoulder as I hit with everything I had, blowing the flimsy door wide open until I was toppling
into the bathroom.
Her pain-filled eyes met mine, tears spilling down her cheeks as she held the tiny little razor to her wrist in disappointment.
“I thought this would work…” she cried.
Her naked body was hunched over, almost like it was in an upright fetal position as she kept trying to slice at her wrist. She
probably would’ve been more successful had she tried to break it apart, but I think she was just too exhausted emotionally to
really think about it.
Grabbing a fluffy white towel from off the drying rack, I approached, turning the water off so I could wrap her in the towel.
I wasn’t even trying to sneak a peek; I was too focused on saving this beautifully broken woman before me.
“Why don’t you let me have this, Ruby?” I whispered, gently pulling the pink, plastic razor from her hand.
“It always leaves cuts on my legs…” she said absentmindedly. “I thought it would work.”
The pain in her eyes hit me so hard I almost lost my balance. God, this woman was suffering so fucking much, and I almost
felt helpless, like anything I did or said in this moment wouldn’t matter.
Twice she’s tried to kill herself.
Twice I’ve intervened.
I helped her up to her feet, and took her into the bedroom, my eyes instantly scanning for anything that might be a threat.
The bottle of pills she’d taken was long gone, but there were plenty of things in her room she could break–things that could
kill her if she really tried.
This is going to be very difficult.
There was a pretty red dress hanging in her closet, so I quickly grabbed it and handed it to her. “Here, Ruby. I’m going to
turn my back, and you need to put this on, okay?”
She nodded weakly, taking the dress from my hands.
Her tears were still falling like tiny streams down her face, and it broke me that I couldn’t help her like I wanted to.
I turned my back, listening as the bed creaked beneath her body and the towel hit the ground. A few seconds later, she
cleared her throat. “Okay, you can turn around now.”
My gaze lingered on her tears, and my heart clenched when I saw the utter devastation in her eyes.
“I bet you think I’m crazy,” she mumbled, sitting back down on her bed. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
Tempestuous emotion overpowered me as I carefully lowered myself onto her bed, trying to figure out the best way to
approach her without scaring her off. This broke so many rules… if the hospital knew she tried to take her life again, they’d
call for me to bring her back in.
But I wasn’t sure if she could survive that. Not when she was this fucking damaged.
“Tell me about Chase,” I prodded, breaking the awkward silence, refusing to answer her question. Did I think she was
crazy? Yes, but not in the ways she was thinking. My head was thinking about all the reasons why she shouldn’t take her life,
how it would be a shame for someone this beautiful to leave me alone on this earth.
Maybe I’m the one that is crazy? I barely know this woman, yet it feels like I’ve known her for my whole damn life.
She sniffed, wiping some stray tears from her cheeks. “He was the best,” she whimpered. “So protective and strong. He
always had my back… always.” She looked at me with a hooded, almost vacant stare. “But I didn’t have his. I should’ve never
let him drive that night.”
It was risky, but I took her hand, curling my fingers around the soft milky skin covered in faint freckles. Her gaze met mine,
and I lost myself in those freakishly blue colored eyes that reminded me of the deepest parts of the sea.
“And that’s where we start,” I whispered, keeping my voice low and calm.
Her gaze swept over me, dropping to our interlocked hands sitting between us. “What do you mean?”
I couldn’t help myself, I cupped her cheek, getting lost in that vast sea of blue and finding a strange comfort within it. My
heart sped wildly beneath my shirt, almost like it was drumming a strange romantic rhythm.
“Letting go of the remorse and grief you’re still holding on to. Once you let go of that, Ruby, you can start to live again.”
She looked towards the floor, eyes focusing on a frayed strand of carpet. “I don’t think I can, Nicholas.” I liked how my
name fell off her lips, like the word was made up just for her to say. “You saw me in that bathroom. I’m fragile and weak. You
can’t even leave me alone in my own house without me spiraling.”
My finger gently brushed over the soft curve of her jaw, focusing her eyes back on me.
“That’s why, before we do anything else, I’m going to have to Ruby-proof your house.”
The corners of her mouth slightly lifted, and for the first time since we met, a brief light danced in her eyes.
“Ruby-proof, huh?”
I nodded, removing my hand because if I kept it there any longer, I’d give in to all the temptation that came with being so
close to her.
“Yeah, in order for us to move forward, I have to remove anything that you could use to hurt yourself.” When she didn’t say
anything, I continued, “We’ll start with that pink razor,” I said, chuckling a bit. “Even though it didn’t get the job done. it could
still pose a potential risk for self-harm.”
She sighed, staring off like she’d rather be anywhere but with me.
“Then I’ll remove any chemicals, pills, or anything that could be consumed and considered deadly.”
“Might as well get rid of the bananas, too. I hear you can choke on them,” she mocked, rolling her eyes.
That feisty woman was back, and I loved seeing her return, no matter how brief the cameo was.
“Eventually, we’re going to have to remove the items that won’t let you move on. It’s okay to keep photos and stuff to
remember him by, but I smelled the cologne when I walked into the bathroom. That’s something triggering–something that
probably led to the razor incident.”
She frowned.
“Incident. Is that what I am? A fucking incident?”
I shook my head. Those big blue orbs were raging like a tumultuous sea, and I loved seeing that rage build inside of her—it
showed me she wasn’t dead yet, that there was still life within her.
“No, Ruby. That episode was an incident. Honestly, I don’t have words to describe what you are, all I can say is that you’re
special.”
She didn’t seem convinced, pulling away from me for the first time. I could already feel the harsh coldness of her absence
and I wasn’t sure why it unnerved me so much. “You say that now, but eventually you’ll realize what a fucking lost cause I am.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here, Ruby. The only thing lost about you is your heart, and I’m determined to put that back
together piece by broken piece. By the end of the month all that grief keeping you down will melt away, and you’ll hopefully be
able to live and exist in a world without your husband.”
Her brow scrunched as her lips turned into a scowl. “If that’s the world you’re expecting me to live in, Nicholas, you can
walk out that fucking door right now. Because this world isn’t worth living in without Chase by my side. God played a sick and
cruel fucking game when he stole my husband away from me, and now I’m nothing but bits and pieces of vacant space trying to
find him again.”
“I don’t believe that, Ruby.” It was more of a challenge than a statement because I knew she was so much more than vacant
space in this world. There was a light shining down on her that she would see if she only opened her eyes and embraced it.
“Well, it’s true. When my husband’s heart stopped beating, so did mine. I lost my will to live that day, and I don’t think I’ll
ever know what happiness is like again, not unless he miraculously comes back to life and our hearts start beating together
once more.”
Ruby was going to prove to be more of a challenge than I expected, but nevertheless, I was determined to remove that chip
on her shoulder and smash it to smithereens.
“Well, we both know I can’t bring your husband back, but I can show you that life is still worth living as long as you’re
open to it and ready to shed your grief. Why don’t we go out into the living room and get our pizza before it gets cold? After we
eat, I’ll do a brief sweep of the house and try to gather the things I think may prove to be a threat.”
She glared at me.
“I know you don’t want this, and you aren’t even close to ready, but I have one month to give it a try. I know that your
husband wouldn’t want you to be suffering like this. He’d want you to live, Ruby. He’d want you to go on without him.”
She shot up from the bed, trying to hide her tears as she marched past me with a vigorous defiance. “I’m not talking about
this anymore, Nicholas. Consider this conversation done.”
Little did she know, the conversation was far from over. She may have thought she won this round, but I was ready to meet
her tit for tat. The first week was always the hardest to work through. People just don’t want to move on, and it seemed like
Ruby was going to be my hardest client yet. I just hope that God brought me into her path for a reason, because it would fucking
kill me if this was all for nothing.
Chapter Eight

Muffled voices and the smell of coffee woke me up. Silence had been my only companion since Chase died. I forgot what it
felt like to wake up without the deafening sound of silence in the house. I laid quietly in my bed and listened, not really hearing
what was being said, just that at the moment I wasn’t alone. Cap was here. He saved me twice now, three times if you count
rescuing me from the hospital.
I rolled over and looked at what used to be Chase’s side of the bed. It was empty, but if I closed my eyes, I could still
picture him lying there beside me. It was like I was manifesting him lying there. Dirty blond hair tousled from sleep, framed his
thin chiseled face as his hypnotizing, golden brown eyes with hints of green that were the perfect swirl of the two colors,
blinked sleepily at me. The corners of his lips lifted into a smile, creating that adorable dimple in his left cheek, and cutest
scrunch of his nose that was slightly humped from where he had broken it playing football in high school. I reached out for him,
only meeting the cold, cruel air of his absence.
A tear slid down my cheek as I stared across the wide expanse of what was once our bed. It felt so much larger without
him beside me. I slept in one of his old shirts just to feel close to him, even if it was just an illusion. “Why’d you have to leave
me?” I whispered, pulling the blankets higher around me. My body felt heavy, and I had no desire to leave the room. Whatever
Cap was doing outside this room had nothing to do with me. I just wanted to be left alone with my memories and misery.
A knock on my bedroom door startled me, but I didn’t call out. I bit my lip to keep my tears and anger inside. When he
knocked again, I finally shouted, “Leave me alone.”
“Ruby, it’s ten in the morning. Either you get up on your own, or I’m going to come in and help you up.”
“I hate you,” I muttered, not quietly enough apparently, because he laughed.
“Yeah. Yeah. I want you dressed and ready to go in ten minutes. The guys are going to start fixing your bathroom door.”
“Guys? What guys?” I rolled up and out of bed. My red hair was a mess and Chase’s shirt hung on me like a dress. I slept in
his boxers that were baggy and loose, but I gave no heed to my wardrobe and opened the door.
“Virg and Pincher are going to fix your door and mow your lawn while we are gone.” Cap nodded to the two men that were
barely boys standing in my living room. They were both young. One had the All-American jock look to him with large muscles
and an athletic frame. The other one had longer hair and was thinner, with lean muscles and a haunted look in his eyes that
showed a depth of agony below the surface.
“I can’t ask them to do that.”
Cap scoffed. “I’m not asking them to do it. I’m telling them to. They are prospects for the Celestial Sons. They do the tasks
we assign to them without question until we are ready to patch them in fully.”
“I know how prospecting works,” I said begrudgingly, reminding myself of all the memories I wished I could forget from
when Chase prospected for the Hell’s Artillery. He would get shit on and calls at all times of the night, and have to go to the
clubhouse for God only knows what. I hated it, but he felt he owed it to his friend to stay in and see it all through. It wasn’t until
I became a target for the assholes, that Chase walked away. They bloodied him up and broke a few ribs, but at least he left with
his life and our marriage still intact.
“Your husband was a prospect?” one of the kids asked, looking for confirmation from Cap.
“Not with the Celestial Sons.” I leaned against the door jamb. “Chase prospected for the Hell’s Artillery, but he left before
they patched him in.”
I watched the younger kid’s whole demeanor change at the mention of the other club. The disgust on his face spoke volumes
about what he thought about the Artillery, and his opinion seemed to be shared by the rest of the bikers in Cap’s club.
“You got lucky.”
I gave the kid a flat look. “Yeah, that’s what they say. I’m just full of luck.”
“Go mow the lawn, Pincher,” Cap barked at him, and he turned to leave. “He didn’t mean that how it sounded. He’s had
some bad blood with the Artillery himself.”
I nodded. “I don’t want to go anywhere. You can go wherever it is you need to go and leave your guys here to babysit me.”
“That’s not how this works, Ruby. You can go into your room and get dressed, or you can come with me in your current
state, but I'm not letting you out of my sight.” Cap was calm and cool. His voice held authority, and I knew he wasn’t going to
give up.
I rolled my eyes and closed my door in his face. “Five minutes left, Ruby. Better get a move on it.”
My teeth clenched as I grabbed jeans and a T-shirt from my drawer. “Fuck you,” I said loud enough, so I knew he could
hear me. This man basically invited himself into my life the second he saved me, and I resented the hell out of him for it.
I pulled on one of Chase’s shirts and slipped into a pair of sneakers before he could knock on the door again. If playing
along would get him out of the house faster, then I would play his game. The best way to get through this was to pretend that I
was moving past it. That had to start with this trip to wherever we were going.
“You ready, Ruby?”
No. I wanted to growl at him, but instead I took a deep breath and tried to remember the plan. Getting him out of my house
and my life as soon as possible. “Yeah.”
Cap and I left the prospects to their tasks and loaded up into his truck. “Until you’re ready to ride, we’ll be taking my cage
everywhere.”
“I won’t get on a bike again,” I said quietly, looking out the window to watch the world pass by as he drove through town.
“Did you love it?”
“Love what?”
“Riding? There were two bikes out there, and since one is purple with red roses on it, and smaller than the other, I knew it
was yours. Did you love riding?”
My emotions got caught in my throat, but I pushed them down. “Yes. I didn’t think I would love it as much as I did, but
Chase would take me out on rides through the countryside, and I loved how freeing it felt. So, for my last birthday, he signed
me up for classes and surprised me with my bike. We planned to take a road trip to California and ride the Pacific Coast
Highway on our bikes. Guess fate had other plans.”
“If you loved it before, you could learn to love it again.”
I closed my eyes. “Maybe,” I agreed, even though I felt like my heart was breaking.
Cap pulled into the local grocery store and parked the car. “We need to get some food. Your cabinets and fridge are empty.”
“I haven’t been eating much.”
“I gathered that. It’s one thing we are going to work on.”
I sighed audibly. “You know you can’t fix people, right? There’s nothing you could do to fix me short of bringing my
husband back from the dead.”
“He’s a bit out of my reach, Ruby, and you don’t need fixing. You need to grieve and accept his loss so you can live a full
life. You’re not broken–just bruised. You’re holding onto your grief and your anger because you don’t feel like life is worth
living without him, but it is. You can find happiness and fulfillment again, Ruby. It will take time and work. It won’t be easy,
and it won’t be quick, but it is possible to have a life after losing someone you love.”
Living a life without the man I loved wasn’t what I wanted. We made promises to each other. We had plans for our future.
Nothing that I was counting on was even possible anymore, and I didn’t know how to cope or change the path my life had been
on. I didn’t want to change it, but life changed it for me. And here I am, grocery shopping with a man that wasn’t my husband,
released into his temporary custody until he and the doctor deem me ready to be on my own.
My life was no longer my own, and to tell the truth, it hadn’t been since the moment my husband died in that wreck.
Chapter Nine

Ruby fell into step behind me as we meandered through the grocery store aisles. She fingered products here and there,
picking them up to read the labels, then scrunching her face in the cutest way as she put it back. At least she was emoting
something other than depression and loss.
“Do you like spaghetti?”
She lifted her head, those blue eyes catching the light overhead just right. Her shoulders slightly shrugged. “Sure. Doesn’t
everybody?”
I laughed. “Actually, I know of two people that despise spaghetti.”
“Really?”
I thought back to the last club dinner we had, where we fed Pincher spaghetti. Most of the club was too focused on finding
him sleeping on our back doorstep, so nobody was paying attention to the revulsion the twins were having to the big bowl of
noodles in the center of the table. But not me, I was side-tracked by their obvious disgust of pasta perfection, and can’t get their
conversation out of my head:
“I can’t–” Castor whispered, covering his mouth. “I’ll figure out something else to eat.”
“Oh god, it’s the kind that looks like worms,” Pollux added, turning a tiny shade of green.
“What if they start moving?” Castor dropped his voice even lower.
“Like the Chinese takeout box in that Vampire movie mom forced us to watch?”
Castor nodded.
“I’m out.”
“Me too,” Castor agreed. Both of them shuddered, turning away from the bowl of noodles to focus on Pincher. But I did
catch them casting wary side glances at the noodles every time someone shoved some in their face. I found their reactions
quite amusing.
Something about spaghetti noodles really repulsed them, and I figured there was some sort of backstory to it, but never
really asked them about it.
“Yeah, we have twins in our club named Castor and Pollux. For some reason, the sight of spaghetti noodles turns them all
queasy. It’s actually quite hilarious. They’ll eat any other kind of pasta as long as it’s not long and looks like worms.”
“Why?”
“No idea. But one day I’m going to have to ask them.”
We turned a corner and run straight into Tess and baby Brooklyn. She smiled brightly at me as we both stopped our carts
right there in the middle of the aisle.
“Cap? What are you doing here?” she asked, shocked that she found one of us shopping. Usually, the prospects or the girls
at the clubhouse did all the shopping. We never really did any of that shit ourselves.
“I’m helping Ruby stock her fridge with groceries. I’m planning on making her some spaghetti tonight.”
Tess nodded her head, smiling at Ruby. “You must be Ruby. Hi, I’m Tess, Zodiac’s wife.”
“Who’s Zodiac?”
Tess giggled. “President of the Celestial Sons MC.”
“Oh,” was all Ruby said in response. She went back to looking at random things on the shelves and putting them back.
Tess frowned. “She okay?” she asked me so only I could hear.
I shook my head, that frown on her face dropping even more.
“How’s the baby?”
Baby Brooklyn’s bright eyes were wide and focused on me. She smiled when I handed her my finger, and she greedily took
it to gum it like a toy. “OW!” I bit out, pulling my finger away. “There’s something sharp in there.”
Tess laughed. “She’s teething, Cap. It’s normal. She’s been the fussiest little thing lately, but now I know why. I came to get
some things for her to cut her teeth on, and some formula, since we’re out.”
Ruby glanced over at us, her eyes focusing on the baby. Tess must’ve seen her curiosity, because she picked Brooklyn up
and motioned to Ruby. “Would you like to hold her?”
Ruby’s eyes grew three sizes bigger, and she quickly shook her head. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even know how. I’d be afraid
of hurting her.”
Tess smiled. “Nonsense. There’s nothing more comforting than holding a baby. And you look like you could use some
comfort. Here, place one hand behind her back to support her, use your other to hold her under her bottom, then your hip will
do the rest. Trust me. It comes naturally.”
Ruby kept shaking her head until the baby was placed in her frantic hands. She tensed up, staring at Baby Brooklyn like she
was a gremlin ready to devour her. For two whole minutes she held the baby away from her body, staring at her like she was
fragile glass ready to break. Then, it was like all that fear melted away when Brooklyn started to wiggle, and she quickly
tucked her closer so that she wouldn’t fall.
“She smells like baby powder,” Ruby said quietly.
“Yeah, she had a bad diaper rash. Baby powder helps. I think she likes you, Ruby.”
A tiny little fist curled into Ruby’s hair, pulling at a tendril that was hanging down, then the cutest little giggle followed, and
I watched Ruby melt. “Oh my gosh, she’s adorable. She looks just like you, too.”
The smallest frown turned Tess’s face, before she reached out to take the baby back from Ruby. “Actually, she’s not mine.
Well, she is, but not by birth. Her momma was shot and died after giving birth to her. She left her to me and Zodiac.”
“Oh wow, I’m sorry. I didn't know.”
Tess smiled, rocking Brooklyn back and forth. “It’s okay, we’re getting through it day by day, but it just makes me sad to
think that her momma will never get to see her grow up. I have a feeling this wee one is going to be quite special.”
I nodded in agreement. “Well, she is the first club princess.”
“Club princess?” Ruby asked.
“When a club Prez has a daughter or son, they’re considered the club prince and princess. We’ve never had baby girls
around the club, not until this little darling came into the world, isn’t that right, Brookie baby?”
Brooklyn giggled.
“Anyway, we should get going. It’s almost Brooklyn’s nap time. It was nice to meet you, Ruby. Hope we can see each other
again soon.”
Ruby nodded, but it was more of a formality than anything else.
We moved up the aisle without saying a word, and after a few minutes of silence, I broke it. “You were great with Brooklyn
back there.”
“Me? No, I’ve never been good with babies.”
I chuckled. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed like a natural.”
She shrugged. “Chase never really wanted to have kids. He said he wanted to travel the world first… obviously that didn’t
happen.”
“What about you? Did you want kids?”
She shrugged. “Never really thought about it much. When Chase said he didn’t want that kind of responsibility, I just
assumed I didn’t want it either. It’s why we never got a dog or cat.”
“Do you want a dog or cat?”
“I’ve always been a kitten lover, but now it just seems rude to bring a cat into my life when my life won’t last much
longer.”
The corners of my mouth ticked with frustration. We were moving backwards again. “I really wish you would stop talking
like that, Ruby.”
She moved forward, grabbing a few apples and throwing them into a bag, ignoring me. “You should probably get used to it,
Cap. You aren’t going to change me.”
This woman needed to break out of this pit of despair she was in and fast, but I had no idea how I was going to get her out
of it.
“Whoa, that woman’s melons are huge!” she exclaimed, looking over the produce aisle where a big busty woman was
holding up two extremely large cantaloupes and comparing them to her breast size. Her breasts were definitely bigger. For the
first time since I met her, there was a mischievous gleam in her eye–one that was very much alive and almost playful. Almost
like she was trying to distract me from how she was really feeling inside.
“They are pretty big,” I agreed, “but they got nothing on that man’s cucumber.” I played along, pointing to an elderly
gentleman who had a rather large cucumber in his hand. Then both of us stopped, mouths dropping in tandem as the man gently
fondled the fruit, stroking the bumped surface a few times before putting it in his cart.
“Oh my god, did he—” The shock on her face was priceless. “Did he just molest that poor cucumber?”
I shot her a wink. “Nah, it was consensual. I think the cucumber actually enjoyed it.”
Before I could stop her, she belted out the most glorious laugh I had ever heard, one that had the absentminded cucumber
molester and the busty cantaloupe woman glaring our way. Within seconds I was joining her, realizing that both produce
patrons could hear us.
“Oh god, I think they heard us,” she whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her as we quickly exited the fruits
and vegetables section. Neither one of us could stop laughing, and it was amazing to see how one little laugh and innocent
innuendo could feed life into her–even if it was only for a few brief minutes.
“That was a close one,” she breathed out, bending over as she fought to catch her breath. “I think the cucumber guy
could’ve taken us both.”
“Well, he was in possession of a rather large cucumber. And you know what they say about large cucumbers don’t you,
Ruby?”
“No, what?” She started giggling again, obviously thinking my mind was going to wander back to the gutter where it usually
thrived.
I threw her a flirtatious wink and grinned, the corners of my mouth quirking up ever so slightly. “They taste delicious in a
freshly made salad.” I held up the bag of salad in our cart and shook it at her.
We both broke down into giggles again, and for the first time since meeting Ruby, I actually felt a glimmer of hope bubble
inside of me. Laughter was the perfect weapon to battle Ruby’s depression, and if I could keep making her laugh, then maybe
just maybe, she’d finally battle her depression once and for all.
Chapter Ten

Guilt overwhelmed me as soon as we stopped laughing. I’d made the joke to distract him, and it worked, but then I enjoyed
the sound of his laughter and found myself laughing with him over the simple teasing exchange. It wasn’t until I was able to
catch my breath that the guilt took over.
That moment lived in my mind and kept replaying over the last week. Everyday Cap insisted we get out of the house. Most
of the time we went to the local park to walk the path, sometimes we would just walk around the neighborhood. A few times
we went for a drive on a backcountry road with the windows down and the music up.
We fell into an easy rhythm together at the house, and though memories plagued me at night and in my dreams, the sadness
didn’t pull me under the same way. Going out each day with Cap actually gave me something to look forward to. I started
looking forward to the bit of exercise and fresh air, despite the Texas heat. He asked me questions about Chase, forcing me to
relive the good memories.
“Where did you two get married?” he asked as we took another lap around the park’s path.
I smiled softly. “We eloped, actually. My parents didn’t approve of Chase and what he stood for. At the beginning of our
relationship, my parents placated me, thinking that if they demanded I stop seeing him, then I’d dig my heels in and just do what
I wanted behind their backs. They were right, because when things started getting more serious between us, they put their foot
down. They gave me an ultimatum, Chase or the life I was accustomed to with them. I made my choice and never regretted it.
So, Chase and I left Austin and headed down to South Padre Island. We got married on the beach and camped out there for our
honeymoon.”
“How did you guys wind up in Rising Star of all places?”
“Chase got a job working out on Benedict Ranch.” The memories of how we met came flooding back. “Chase loved horses
almost as much as I did.”
“Almost?” Cap smiled.
“It was an ongoing joke between the two of us. He was a stable hand at the country club my parents belonged to. That’s
how we met. My mom dragged me to riding and dressage lessons when I was little, but then I fell in love with it. Chase’s dad
was a trainer and got Chase a job at the stables where he worked.” I took a deep breath and swallowed hard to push the
emotions back. “Anyway, the rest of the story is pretty much like Romeo and Juliet and you know how that ends.” I shrugged it
off, trying to hide the pain that talking about Chase exposed.
Cap took my hand and pulled me to a stop on the path. “Except your story hasn’t ended yet, Ruby. You’re still here.”
“Because of you,” I said softly without the malice or the resentment I’d felt since the day he saved me.
“I’m happy I was there that day.”
I nodded and slowly tugged my hand back from his, ignoring the way my skin tingled where he’d touched me. We started
walking again in silence. I was caught up in my own thoughts and Cap seemed to instinctively know that it’s what I needed at
that moment.
“I was meaning to ask you,” Cap started a few minutes later. “What do you normally do for the Fourth of July?”
I shrugged. “Chase and I used to go watch the fireworks. We didn’t have a lot of friends here. I think that’s why Chase tried
to prospect for the Hell’s Artillery, besides the fact his one and only friend in town was part of the club.”
“I know you aren’t comfortable going to the Celestial Sons clubhouse, but how would you like to come to our cookout here
at the park for the Fourth of July?”
I hesitated. Cap was a good guy, and the two prospects that I met seemed to be okay. I knew the lady at the store with the
baby seemed free and happy, but did I want to risk meeting another club? “If I say no, are you going to go to the celebration
without me?”
Cap shook his head. “No, Ruby. I wouldn’t go without you. I miss my club family, but you need me more right now than they
do.”
I nodded and looked away from him. “I’ll try,” I finally said after a few minutes of silence. “I can’t promise I will be able
to make it through the cookout, but I will try.”
It was a step. I could see the happiness and pride in Cap’s eyes, and I hated to let him down. I told myself he needed to
spend time with his brothers and see his family. He’d been kind to me, and I needed to offer this kindness in return. My stomach
twisted with nerves. My last exposure to a motorcycle club was scary as hell and changed my life forever. I told myself that I
would give any motorcycle club a wide berth, but being around Cap has changed that. He’d become the closest thing to a friend
I had, and I couldn’t say that I didn’t trust him, because I did. More than I ever thought was possible.
“You ready?” Cap looked at me as he unbuckled.
I held the platter of store-bought cookies decorated in red, white, and blue icing in my lap. Cap had an ice chest in the back
of the truck filled with a variety of sodas and beer. Nervously, I reached for my seatbelt. There were a bunch of bikes all
parked near us, and in the distance, I could see the large group of bikers and women under the pavilion.
“It’s gonna be okay, Ruby. Nobody in my club will hurt you. We protect women. We don’t use and abuse them.”
I nodded and offered him a weak smile. My stomach fluttered with apprehension. Besides Cap, I hadn’t really been around
a lot of people since Chase’s death, and the night of the crash, we had been to a party with some of the other ranch hands and
their families.
“Cap?” I said his name softly before he could get out of the truck.
“Yeah?”
I licked my lips nervously, wondering if he would give in to my request? “Will you be a designated driver tonight?”
He sat back and considered my question for a moment before answering. “Are you planning on getting drunk?” he asked me
softly.
I immediately shook my head and then nodded toward his friends.
“I won’t drink, but if they do, they may need rides home.”
Cap smiled softly. “Zodiac’s our Prez, and he doesn’t drink, ever. Hasn’t for years. Our VP’s fiancée is the sheriff, so she
and Scorpio will both probably stay away from the beer as well. Virg and Pincher are both underage, so they won’t be drinking
either. The guys that will drink know better than to get sloshed outside of the clubhouse because the clubhouse has beds for
them to crash in without going anywhere.”
I nodded and gave him a weak thank you. Nervously, I got out of the truck and shut the door. The thick Texas heat almost
took my breath away. Families smiled as they cooked out and enjoyed the celebration of barbecues and fun. Almost everyone
was sporting some kind of patriotic clothing, myself included. I had on a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and an oversized wide neck
blue shirt that hung off my shoulder to reveal the red tank top underneath. My white flip-flops protected my feet from the hot
pavement.
Cap was grabbing the ice chest from the back of the truck, so I waited for him in front of it. I spotted the pretty brunette
woman we’d met at the grocery store. She was smiling up at a mountain of a man holding the beautiful baby I held the other
day. He was huge, but his unguarded face showed love and devotion for both the women he was holding onto.
“If you want to leave at any point.” Cap touched my arm to get my attention. “Just say the word and we’ll go.”
My stomach twisted, and I swallowed hard before nodding to his club. “Do they all know about me?”
“They know what my organization does, Ruby, but other than the sheriff and Archer, they don’t know complete details.”
I bit my lip and nodded. Shame and guilt twisted my gut. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“You don’t have to act like you are marching to the gallows, darlin’. It’s a simple cookout followed by fireworks.”
I couldn’t stop the small, flickering smile that crossed my face. He was right. I’d been to cookouts before. Granted, it had
been a long time ago, but I had been to them. I once had a life where I was surrounded by friends and family, but that seemed
like ages ago, since the only place I felt at home was when I was with Chase.
Cap put a hand at the small of my back as he pulled the ice chest behind him. When we approached his club, I saw a bunch
of curious eyes observing me, and I wanted to hide behind Cap. Instead, I just shuffled a bit closer to him. My elbow grazed
against his left side and he looked down at me curiously.
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins. I ignored the electricity that
radiated from where my elbow had brushed against his body. It was an awkward silence that settled over the group, and I
wished like hell I hadn’t decided to come.
“Ruby!” The pretty brunette from the grocery store said my name with a genuine smile on her face as she came up to me and
pulled me into a hug. I just barely got the cookies out of the way before she folded me into her arms.
At first, I stiffened in her embrace before returning it. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.” I felt heat flame my face
and thought for sure my face probably matched my hair.
She gave me a big smile. “I’m Tess. Come meet the other girls.” She turned her attention away from me to Cap, giving him
a big grin. “I’m stealing her now.”
He gave his nod of approval and I was whisked away toward the tables laden with food. I glanced back over my shoulder
at Cap. His eyes were on me but his brows were furrowed like he was confused about something.
“Ruby, this is Bangs, Juliette, Big Sandy, and Liberty.”
Their smiles were nothing but warm and friendly.
“Ladies, this is Ruby.”
They all said hi and welcomed me into the conversation that flowed freely between the group. “Has anyone heard if Scales
is coming?”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the woman they called Liberty.
Juliette shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been around much since everything came out.” Her gaze
flickered towards me and I knew there was something I didn’t know that everyone else was privy to.
Tess sighed and shook her head. “I feel for him. He’s between a rock and a hard place, all because of that vicious bitch he’s
married to. He has his reasons for staying married to that snake. Though, Ulrich hasn’t told me why.”
“I heard my name.”
The man in question came forward and wrapped his now free arms around his wife, pulling her against him. She looked up
over her shoulder and smiled up at him before he captured her lips in a quick, loving kiss that was full of emotion.
“Get a room, you two,” a gruff voice spoke up behind Juliette before a gorgeous blond guy started nuzzling her neck,
causing her to sigh blissfully as she leaned back into his embrace. The group laughed at the contradiction, and his blatant
display of affection. A pang of envy speared through my middle.
Chase loved me, but he was also reserved when it came to public displays of affection. He’d hold my hand or put an arm
across my shoulder, but every bit of attention he gave me in public was warm and comfortable, lacking the passion these two
couples had. These guys showed passion to their women no matter who was looking.
“Ruby,” Tess said, getting my attention and bringing me out of my musings and memories. “This is my husband, Ulrich. The
club calls him Zodiac.”
The man behind her gave me a small smile and a nod, which I returned.
“That’s Scorpio, Juliette's man.” Tess nodded to the blond guy who had moved up beside his woman, and draped his arm
around her shoulders, pulling her close.
As she was introducing Scorpio, a set of identical twins joined us at the table. They immediately grabbed the cookies.
“This is Castor and Pollux, otherwise known as the Gemini twins.”
Both of the guys offered me identical grins. “You brought the cookies?”
I nodded and returned their smiles.
“I could kiss you. These are my favorite.” I wasn’t sure which one said the comment, but I know who said the next one.
“You won’t, if you want to keep your lips,” Cap threatened beside me. The smile that had been on his lips before was no
longer visible on his handsome face. Instead, his golden-brown eyes had flames of irritation in them. The group was quiet for a
moment before Tess brought my attention over towards the barbecue.
“That’s Virg and Pincher,” Juliette said, pointing to the two prospects that had been in my house. “They’re what we call
prospects.” Virg and Pincher were currently manning the grill, though neither one of them really looked like they knew what
they were doing.
I hid a laugh when the big guy with the bald head moved them out of the way with an eye roll to the sky and took over,
showing them how to handle the pit. “That’s Bull.” Tess grinned. “He’s as big as a bull, charges like a bull, and grunts like a
bull, but he’s a softy once you get to know him.”
The guys all burst out laughing as did the other women. “Bull would be pissed to hear you say that,” Scorpio stated,
grinning at Tess.
“I think I’m going to go tell him.” One of the twins grinned as he popped the last bite of his cookie into his mouth.
“It’s your funeral, Brother,” his twin remarked, but followed behind him anyway to have his back.
“Really, Tess?” Zodiac grumbled softly as he watched the twins head toward the barbecue and the big guy standing behind
it.
“What? I didn’t want her to be intimidated by his size or antics.” She shrugged. “Plus, it’s the truth. The only people that
need to be worried about him are the ones that get on his bad side.”
“How do you get on his bad side?” I questioned the group. All eyes turned toward me then, and I took a step, backing away
from the sudden attention.
“The same way you get on any of our bad sides. Hurting the people we care about, or the people of this town.” Zodiac was
the one to answer the question, and I nodded my understanding.
The president of the Celestial Sons didn’t know, but the simple and earnest answer he gave me told me a lot about him and
about the club they were a part of. I knew Cap was a decent guy from the foundation he ran and the time I’d spent with him at
home. Cap was right when he said that the Celestial Sons were nothing like the Hell’s Artillery. The two clubs couldn’t be
further apart in the way they acted, talked, and held themselves.
Someone put on some music on a portable speaker, and the group broke off into different conversations. I moved to the low
wall of the pavilion and watched the group interact and enjoy each other’s company. Zodiac and Tess danced to the music; their
little girl was being passed around from one pair of empty arms to another. It was hard to imagine big burly bikers doting on a
baby, but I saw it firsthand, and I kinda was loving it.
I smiled when I thought of the poor girl’s future when she starts dating one day. Heaven help any guy that would be brave
enough to try to date the princess of a motorcycle club.
“What has you smiling?” I looked up to see Cap walking toward me with two sodas in his hands.
I felt lighthearted and good, so I decided to share my thoughts with him. I nodded toward the blond guy holding the baby. I
watched as her hand reached up and caught a hold of his beard. He smiled down at her and disentangled the beard from her tiny
fist. “I was thinking heaven help any teenage guy that will ever want to ask that girl out one day.” I laughed and popped the top
on the drink he offered me as he took the seat beside me.
Cap laughed. “Any kid brave enough to ask her out will have to have a giant set of balls. Not sure if that’s a point in his
favor or not, though.” He looked toward the baby.
“I don’t think she’s going to be the only princess in the club for long.” I sent a snide smirk to him and nodded to the sheriff
as she curled up against her fiancé and sweetly smiled up at him. I overheard her mention that she was expecting, but the glow
and baby bump totally gave her away. “Those two can barely keep their hands off each other, and they damn sure can’t stop eye
fucking each other. If they wait to get married before the baby comes, I’d be surprised.”
Cap grinned and chuckled. “They aren’t engaged yet, but I think it’s coming soon. He’s been hinting about it. But we don’t
know what the sex is of the baby they’re having. They could have a little prince instead.”
“True.” I smiled, “Either way, they seem like nice people. Your club is different from the Artillery. I’m sorry I painted you
guys with the same brush.”
Cap’s eyes met mine. “Thank you.”
I nodded and looked back toward the group. The baby was now in a thin, young girl's arms. I think she’s the one they called
Bangs. She smiled down softly at the baby, but a look of sadness flickered across her face even as she smiled. Watching this
club, I saw them for what they were. They were a family, and it made me wish my own hadn’t died with Chase.
“Hey, don’t go down that road right now, Ruby. You’re here. Enjoy the moment.”
I nodded and swallowed before offering a small, sardonic smile. “You reading my mind now, Cap?”
He shrugged. “I saw the signs.”
The sun was starting to set when Bull announced that the food was done. He carried a big tray of chicken, burgers, and hot
dogs over to the table. Everyone started making their way over to the long tables, ready to chow down. “Come on. Let’s go get
some grub.” Cap nudged my shoulder softly with his.
We both got up to join in the dinner celebration. Plates were passed and jokes were told as they all shared the meal. The
women and men all made sure to include me in the conversations. It was easy talking to these people, and even easier enjoying
being around them.
Chatter and laughter never stopped. The twins were easily the class clowns and cracked jokes constantly, causing everyone
at the table to laugh. The guy Tess had called Bull was a bit intimidating, but like she said, he seemed as good as the rest of the
guys. According to Cap, there were quite a few members not there. A lot of them chose to stay back at the clubhouse, or haven’t
been around much. I wish I could remember all their names, but I was kind of at a loss.
“I think we are going to take off before the fireworks start,” Zodiac stated as he ambled to his feet and Tess started to gather
their things. “We don’t want the fireworks to startle Brooklyn. She’s a bit small for them.”
Tess came over to me. “I hope to see you again soon, Ruby.” She offered me a genuine smile, and pulled me in for another
brief hug.
My eyes slid closed as I fought back tears. It had been so long since I had any human contact and even longer since I had a
real hug. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying, and to distract me from the emotions.
“I hope so too,” I agreed, proud of myself that my voice was sturdier sounding than I thought it would be.
She pulled back and gave me a sly smile. “With the way he looks at you, I’m sure we’re going to see each other again. He
can’t take his eyes off you.”
A quick glance Cap’s way had me blushing. I felt his gaze even before she brought it to my attention. The warmth of it had
been falling me around all night long.
Before I could respond, Tess took the baby from another set of arms as they made their way to the SUV next to Cap’s truck.
But they weren’t the only ones leaving. The twins decided to head to Stars and Strips instead of staying for the light show that
was about to happen, and Bull had to get back to the club for work to relieve Archer.
By the time everyone cleared out, it was just Juliette, Scorpio, me, and Cap. “You want to head home or watch the
fireworks?” Cap asked me, getting my attention from picking up the rest of the stuff we had brought to the cookout.
“I kinda don’t want to go home,” I admitted softly. “I felt almost normal today, and I don’t want that to end.”
He nodded. “That’s good progress, Ruby. We’ll stay to watch the fireworks. We can sit on the tailgate of my truck and get a
good view of the show.”
“Sounds good.”
“Scorpio? Juliette?” Cap spoke up to get their attention. “We’re going to watch from the tailgate of my truck. Since you
brought your bike, you’re welcome to join us if you want?”
Juliette smiled, answering for both her and Scorpio. “Sure.”
We cleared up what was left of the mess we’d made at the pavilion. People were sitting on the stands at the baseball field
waiting for the fireworks to start, others were at the park sitting on the picnic tables, and some were sitting in the back of
pickups just like us.
The moment felt intimate as the four of us sat in the bed of the truck. To the world, we would appear to be two couples on a
double date. My stomach clenched at the thought. Guilt churned in my gut and ate away at my soul for even thinking that for a
second. I bit my lip and gulped down the sudden flood of misery taking over, fighting back the whirlwind of emotions that were
swirling in my chest.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice when the first firework went up, but when the world exploded and light
flashed in my field of vision, I was taken back to the worst night of my life.
I didn’t know I was covering my ears and screaming. I didn’t know what was going on around me, I just saw the truck
coming for us and the lights blinding me before the loud explosion of our car and it splintering apart in front of me.
“CHASE!” I screamed, seeing my husband crumpled up halfway through the windshield again. “CHASE!” I cried out his
name again as I got trapped in the recurring nightmare of that night.
“Shhh, Ruby. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
I wasn’t aware of anything going on. I just heard the loud booms and bangs as the wreckage surrounded me. The strobing
lights of the responders as they tried to rescue us. The sparks from the dented metal being cut away. There was no escaping the
terror I felt again. My heart felt like it was going to pound right out of my chest, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
Vaguely, I felt arms grab me. I heard voices talking, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Nothing made sense to me. I
was still having trouble catching my breath, but the sounds of explosions and the flashing lights faded out to help me start
gaining some semblance of control.
Comfortable warmth surrounded me, slowly cutting through the terror and pain. Soft words of comfort and encouragement
that meant nothing to me were calming me until my body completely spent and wrung out. Blackness started to take over as I
finally sank into nothingness. Blissful nothingness.
Chapter Eleven

“I think she’s having a panic attack,” Juliette said with a gasp, watching as the fragile woman in my arms screamed and fell
into that void of memories that quickly dragged her down that vicious rabbit hole, I barely had scrounged her out of.
“It’s more than that, Juliette, it’s PTSD.” I clutched Ruby like it was my only job, knowing that I needed to bring her out of
this, but lacking the tools to do it. I sent both Scorpio and Juliette a pained look, and they immediately got up, walking over to
Scorpio’s bike.
“Take her home, Cap. Get her away from this,” Scorpio encouraged. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” I mumbled, securing every flinch she made in my protective arms. It took everything I had to guide her from the
bed of my truck into the passenger seat. She immediately curled into a fetal position, barely allowing me to click in her seatbelt
as she mumbled her late husband’s name over and over again. At least she wasn’t screaming it anymore.
Damn… just when I get thirty steps ahead, we revert back to this. Am I ever going to get her out of her mental prison?
Tears spilled down her trembling cheeks as she fell back into that pit of despair she was in. I wanted to comfort her, but
getting her home safe was my main goal in this moment. I didn’t stop until we were parked in her driveway.
My heart thrummed inside my chest violently, urging me to get her out of this groundhog cycle she was spinning in.
“Ruby,” I whispered, shaking her arms after I pulled open her door. “Ruby, we’re home.”
She was incoherent. Almost catatonic in a way. It was like I could see the movie playing behind the tears. Fuck.
Her body collapsed against me as I lifted her into my arms, my heart racing as I carried her to her door and fished a key
from her purse. It wasn’t easy or logistically possible, but I somehow found a way despite all the odds against me. I carried her
into her house, and kicked the door behind me, not stopping until I had her sitting on the couch.
“Ruby, please.” I shook her again, my voice getting louder. “You’re safe. Come on, girl, pull through this.”
Bleary eyes blinked away tears as she focused on my face, that catatonic look erasing like magic.
“Cap?”
“Shh, you’re safe now. I think you had a PTSD flashback… the fireworks they…”
She cut off my words with a painful sob. “They took me back to that night.”
The large blade ceiling fan whirled above our heads, and the whoosh of the air slicing through the stagnant room mirrored
the strange pulse inside my chest. Her screams had pierced me right in the soul, and the second I heard them, I felt the strange
heart squeeze violently behind my ribcage. I thought something was wrong, that my body was rejecting the foreign object
Frankenstined inside of me. It could happen. I wasn’t completely out of the danger zone of that possibility… yet, but it wasn’t
my heart failing on me.
No, it was almost worse. It was my heart proving to me that the mild attraction I’d felt for this woman at the beginning was
blooming into something deeper. Something neither of us were prepared for. Pulling Ruby out of her depression was supposed
to be my only job, but somewhere along the way, I had fallen for her, and that was dangerous water to tread. It had only been a
few weeks, but I was invested, more than I’d ever been invested in anyone in my life.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, barely able to get out the words. “I was doing so well, and now I’m just a mess again. You
probably hate me.” She weakly looked up into my eyes, searching for the hatred, I think she was afraid of that would flash in
my pupils. But all she found was concern, and the yearning I felt for her. A yearning that was getting harder and harder to
ignore. I could never hate her. Never.
“Don’t be sorry. It happens. More often than you think.” My gaze lingered on her lips a fraction longer than it should have,
and I had to focus on something else, choosing the photograph near her head. Chase was nothing but smiles in the harmless
picture, holding her close as they took a selfie on a ski lift. They both looked so happy, like the world was their oyster. She
followed my gaze and frowned.
“That was on our honeymoon,” she whispered. “Chase took me to Colorado to ski for the first time. I’m afraid of heights,
but Chase was determined to catch the moment on camera. Behind that smile is legit fear.”
My head moved back to look at her, and my heart sank when I saw the pain radiating in those big blue orbs–pain I wasn’t
sure I could touch anymore.
For every two steps forward, we were taking thirty steps back.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Ruby. I know letting go is hard, but if you don’t, you’ll never get out of this.”
She looked at her feet. “I know.”
“Part of the healing process is letting go of the pain. The only way you can do that is by letting go of Chase.”
“I don’t know if I can do that, Cap. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
I gently gripped her face, staring into her eyes as a single tear dripped down the hill of her cheek. Instinctively, my finger
brushed it away. Knowing that the intimate touch was wrong in so many ways, it surprised the fuck out of me when she leaned
into my embrace, receiving the simple gesture with a smile.
“You’re stronger than you know, Ruby. We just have to show you how to do it.”
“How?”
“The first step is letting go, and I have a plan to make that happen, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
She gently pulled away, forcing me to drop my hands to my sides. “I trust you, Cap. More than I should. More than I thought
I ever would.”
Hearing those words made my whole body warm, basking in the realization that in this short amount of time, I had made a
breakthrough with her. Even if it was small.
Before I could say another word, she stood, moving toward the bedroom in one fluid motion. “I’m going to go to bed,” she
said weakly. “Today took a lot out of me.”
“I understand. I’m here if you need me, okay?”
She smiled, but didn’t say anything else as the door closed behind her.

Sleep evaded me.


All I could think about was Ruby and the panic attack she had during the fireworks. Why was I stupid enough to believe that
keeping her there was a good idea? The smile… that’s why. For the first time since I found her lifeless on the floor, Ruby had a
genuine smile on her face, and I didn’t want to see it fade. I wanted to hold on to it forever. It was much like the smile she had
in the ski lift picture. But the smile she had tonight was meant for me… not him… not for the man she couldn’t let go of.
God, why was I jealous of a ghost?
Why did I wish he never existed?
Pain took over my chest as it tightened, and I slowed my breathing down, dropping my stress back to normal levels.
The darkness of the room swirled around me, and then I heard the whimpering behind her closed door, the scream coming
not long after.
“CHASE!” she yelled.
Without hesitation, I sprang up from the couch, rushing into her room like I was lined in shining silver armor and was going
to slay whatever dragon threatened her.
I wasn’t Chase, but I was determined to be what she needed in that moment.
I found her writhing on the bed, moaning out his name over and over. I fell to my knees, gently shaking her awake. “Ruby,
wake up. Wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”
She bolted upright, staring at me with widened eyes. It was like she didn’t see me at all, then I felt her arms curl around my
shoulders, pulling me close. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Why is this so hard?” She started to hyperventilate, her eyes dilating
as I started to lose her again.
Pulling away, I held her hands, forcing her to look into my eyes. “Breathe, Ruby. Take a nice deep breath.”
She did, and I took it with her. We did this a few times before her breathing finally calmed down and she looked human
again.
“There you are,” I said, smiling when the moon outside her window hit her eyes just right. “You’re okay.”
“Progress,” she weakly admitted. “Before, something like this would drag me into that dark place again. But not this time.
This time I pulled out of it… because of you.”
“Yes, you’re making really good progress, Ruby. Better than expected. Today just opened up those doors to your demons
again, but don’t worry, it seems like you’re getting better at combating them.”
She nodded, her head sinking into the pillow. “I don’t know if I can sleep again. Every time I close my eyes, I see the lights
of the truck coming towards us. I hear the screams. The crash. His dead body hanging out the window. It’s like my mind won’t
stop seeing it.”
Another random document with
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Casualties in battle account for a high rate of the deaths reported in
the Hive, right? So it occurred to me—How come we're not using the
Goons to fight in the war? They're indestructible, they're armed with
our most potent weapons—Yet we let men and boys be shipped out
of here to fight. It doesn't make sense."
"Of course it does!" Grace retorted. "You think that question never
occurred to anyone but you, Lloyd Bodger? We don't use Goons in
war for the same reason they didn't use atomic weapons after the
Second World War of last century: The other side has them, and
might fight back with them."
"But—So what?!" Lloyd exploded. "What's the difference if our people
are killed by other soldier's bullets or by enemy Goons?"
"There's—There's less slaughter this way," Grace said, with an
intensity that sounded lame even to her.
"All right, we'll let that part go," Lloyd said, in no mental shape for
argument. "There are other things—"
"Forget them," Grace said, vehemently. "Whatever your reasons, or
reasoning, last night, you have another problem to face: What are
you going to do with this girl? The longer you stick with her, the
slimmer your excuses will sound when she's caught. In fact, the only
hope you have is to turn her in, right now, and pray your
Readjustment isn't too painful."
"But don't you see, Grace—!" Lloyd blurted. "What if she's right?! On
that chance, no matter how silly you think her theory is—a theory that
has led others to join her movement, remember—do I dare take the
risk of turning her in?"
Grace stared at him and digested this aspect of the situation slowly. "I
—I guess it would be kind of late, when the top level sent me the
report that your Readjustment hadn't taken, or something, to say
'Well, he told me so!'."
The door chimes pealed, then, startling them all.
"You expecting anyone else?" asked Lloyd.
"No, unless your friend the fugitive was seen coming in here."
As they spoke, Andra had gone to a window and peeked out from
behind the curtain. When she turned to face them again, her face was
grey with strain and apprehension.
"Lloyd—" she said. "It's your father!"

CHAPTER 10
Under the blazing arc-lights on the set, President Stanton played
himself to the hilt, nearing the climactic, "Vote for the sake of the
Kinsmen! Vote for the freedom of the Temples! Vote for the life of the
Hive!" Just as he launched into this most important part of the script,
a page boy made his labyrinthine way on tiptoe through the cables
and reflectors and sound equipment to the chair of the director, and
whispered urgently in his ear. Frank got to his feet immediately.
"Cut!" he called.
Stanton looked up in some surprise, and it was a very baffled
cameraman who finally found enough strength to cut off his machine.
The set was dead quiet as Stanton arose from behind the prop-desk
and looked in unpleasant speculation at the source of the interruption.
Frank cleared his throat, and said, "I'm sorry. The scene was going
well, sir; that isn't why I cut it. You have a phone call, in Mr. Lennick's
office."
"I thought it was understood I was not to be disturbed while on the
set," said Stanton, still wondering if he should give vent to his feelings
of outrage.
"It was, sir. And is. But the call's from your personal secretary, sir. She
says it's of the utmost importance."
Stanton hesitated, dropped his script back down onto the desk, then
started decisively around the side of the desk toward the director.
"She had better be correct," he said darkly, brushing by Frank and the
crewmen without apology and vanishing into the corridor that led to
Robert Lennick's office. There was a brief silence, then a concerted
sigh of relief from the men on the set.
"Shall we wait," one of the crewmen asked Frank, "or shoot around
this scene and pick it up later?"
Frank spread his hands. "I don't know. I have to be sure he's coming
back, first—I'll go find out." He told his staff to relax until his return,
then hurried out after the President.
A hundred feet down the corridor, he rounded a turn. Up ahead he
saw Stanton just entering Lennick's office. Then, without hesitation,
Frank ducked into a nearby office, his own, and locked the door on
the inside. The lowest drawer of his desk had a false bottom. He
triggered the release on this, now, and lifted out the small black
earphone-set there, setting it dextrously across his head, magnetic
speaker directly over his ear. In the hollow of the now-exposed
section was a telephone dial. Frank swiftly spun it through the
sequence of Lennick's office number, then sat hunched forward over
his desk, listening hard. He heard Stanton pick up the phone, and
say, "This is Stanton. What is it?!"
Madge Benedict, his personal secretary, "It's Lloyd Bodger, Junior.
You told me to contact you the instant he got out of line again. Well,
he has, but good."
"As bad as the other two?" Stanton queried.
"Worse, much worse, sir. Bad enough to make the other two look
good by comparison. He was seen, this afternoon, on Ninety-Three-
Level, in the company of Andra Corby, the fugitive from
hospitalization. You know, sir, the movie star who was injured on the
set yesterday."
Something sparked in Stanton's brain, then, and a hard light of
comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Wait—Let me think.... Of
course! She vanished yesterday from the Temple on Ninety-Five! And
Lloyd was there, too. I wonder—" He stopped idle speculation and
snapped, "Get me Bodger, quick!"
"His office," Madge told him after a moment on another line, "says
he's gone home, and you can—"
"I know he's at home!" Stanton growled, "I just left him there. Get
him!"
There was a short silence, then she spoke again. "I'm ringing him, sir.
I don't think he's at home. No one answers."
"You know what to do as well as I do!" he said impatiently. "Put a
tracer on his Voteplate! See where he's gone to."
Another pause; while Madge coded an inquiry and flashed it to the
memory circuits of the enormous Brain beneath the Hive, and
received the near-instantaneous reply. "Sir," she replied, "he's taken
the lift to Ninety-Three-Level. The same place his son was seen."
"That's odd.... Do you suppose he knows about the Corby girl, too?
Or—" Stanton dropped the interrogation; Madge shouldn't be made to
think about it. The less she knew, trusted secretary or not, the better.
"Skip it," he said abruptly. "Find out for me where they might be going
on that level, their hangouts, haunts, and friends...."
Madge found the answers and got back on the line. "Three possible
places, sir. Dewey's Bar and Grill, in Sector Three, Miss Grace
Horton's Unit, and—"
"Lloyd's fiancee?!" Stanton interjected. "The one who attended the
wrong Temple Service last night...."
"I believe she did, sir. We sent out a memo—"
"And she got it this morning! Of course!" said Stanton, exultantly.
"And phoned Lloyd right afterwards!"
"I don't follow you, sir—" Madge said, blankly.
"Forget it," snapped the President. "I have all the information I need.
And," he added, with belated gratitude, "thank you for calling me,
Miss Benedict." He hung up without waiting for her reply.
Huddled over the desk in the dimness of his own office, Frank tore off
the earphones, dropped them back into the hollow of the drawer, and
re-closed the false bottom. He was out in the corridor again, headed
toward Lennick's office, with seconds to spare when Stanton came
out.
"Sir," Frank said, turning about and falling into step with him on the
way back to the set, "I wonder if you'd care to finish the scene, or
should we shoot around it?"
"Shoot around it," Stanton said. "I can't be bothered with the filming,
today. Something's come up."
Frank nodded and let his pace slacken, allowing the President to
move away from him. After poising on his toes for an undecided
second, he whirled and dashed toward Lennick's office. If young
Bodger had been seen with Andra, in the same locale where the
elder Bodger was now heading—or had even arrived—there was
going to be an explosion. An explosion that might sweep Andra, the
Bodgers, and the entire anti-Hive movement with it, when Stanton got
the wheels of his office in motion.

CHAPTER 11
After thumbing the doorbell the second time, Bodger shifted his hand
toward the inner pocket where he kept his Voteplate. The doors of all
Units in the Hive were keyed by the Voteplate of the dweller, through
a slot above the knob. As Secondary Speakster, Bodger's plate could
key any door in the Hive save Stanton's; all doors opened to the
President's Voteplate. Just as his fingers touched the edge of the
plate in his pocket, he saw the knob start to turn, and withdrew his
hand. The door opened, and his son was standing there.
"Come in, Dad," Lloyd said, standing aside. "Grace will join us in a
moment."
The elder Bodger's eyes did not miss the fact that the door to the
bedroom was closed, as he entered the parlor. This delayed
appearance of Grace, coupled with the delay in their response to his
ring, confirmed his worst suspicions. He took the seat Lloyd offered
him, leaned back without quite relaxing, and came to the point at
once.
"Lloyd, you're making trouble. Lots of it. For yourself, and quite
possibly for me, too. I don't like it. But before I take any steps, I want
to hear your side of it."
Lloyd sat down facing his father, very uncomfortable inside. He didn't
want to inadvertently volunteer more information than his father
already had. He could think of plenty of things he'd done since the
night before, any one of which was damnable; the safest policy was
in determining just what, and how much of what, his father knew.
"I'm not sure I follow you, Dad," he said, pleasantly. "What kind of
trouble—"
"Don't fence with me, young man!" said his father. "Unless you're
completely brainless, you know what I—" He was about to
expostulate on the disgraceful conduct of the evening before, the
matter of Grace's having gone up to top level with his son, then
decided to let that ride until Grace herself was present. Keeping
steely control over his emotions, he said, instead, "The Vote last
night, Lloyd. Your plate was credited with a con Vote. Are you insane,
Lloyd?! Haven't I told you—!"

Lloyd racked his brain to recall the content of the proposition, but
could not. "Maybe I hit the wrong button," he said lamely. "My hand
might have slipped."
"The penalty's the same, whatever the basis of your stupid action,
and you know it!" his father rasped. "I don't think you are even able to
tell me what the proposition was, are you!" A look at Lloyd's burning
face told him the answer. "I thought not," he said, wearily. "I don't
know what I'm going to do with you, son. I've tried to keep you in line
—"
The entrance of Grace Horton stopped Bodger's tired lament, and
both men rose to their feet.
"It's nice to see you Mr. Bodger. Would—Would you like a drink?"
Grace offered, nervously.
"I would not—" he said, then softened his curt reply with, "But thank
you, anyway, Grace. Maybe later, after I've had my say." Lloyd and
Grace looked at one another in numb apprehension of the unknown,
then back at Bodger.
"The son of a prominent man," Bodger began, at last finding his
approach-path, "has a great responsibility to his father's good name.
The Hive, as you both know, has rigid rules regarding—well—
amorous conduct, to employ a euphemism, between unmarried
persons. Yet, last night, Lloyd—Grace—the two of you were seen
going to top level on the public lift, just before Ultrablack."

A short sound from Grace's chair was the gasp that had sucked itself
between her lips as the significance of Bodger's words reached her.
Lloyd, for his part, fought but could not control the hot crimson flood
that rushed into his features when he met Grace's hurt gaze.
Bodger, misinterpreting both their reactions according to his own
notion of the night before, immediately said, "No need to be afraid. A
thing like this is better out in the open. I can understand how two
young people in love might—"
"Dad!" Lloyd said abruptly. Bodger halted and waited for his son's
words. Lloyd, speaking to his father the words that were actually
intended for Grace's ears, said, with deep earnest, "It wasn't like that,
Dad. She slept on my bed, with her clothes on. I slept on the rug. We
—We just had to be together, that's all. I've done nothing you should
feel ashamed of."
The sudden smile on Grace's face caught at Lloyd's heart.
"That's a help, son," Bodger said, likewise convinced. "To me, at any
rate. The point, unfortunately, is that any persons who observed you
going up to our Unit with Grace could not be expected to presume the
best, if you see what I mean?"
"I do, Dad," Lloyd mumbled contritely. "And I wish it had never
happened."
"It wouldn't have," Bodger pontificated, "if Grace hadn't gone to the
wrong Temple Service. I can see how she might dislike the change in
her attendance-period, meaning she'd be unable to attend with you,
anymore, but it was the wrong thing to do. If she'd stayed home, none
of this would've happened."
The irony of this last statement, while it missed Bodger completely,
brought a small, one-syllable burst of laughter from Grace's lips,
which she quickly stoppered. Lloyd jumped into the breach swiftly, to
distract his father from a dangerous line of conjecture.
"Dad, there was something bothered me last night—In the Temple, I
mean, about that fugitive girl?"
"What about her?" said his father, unprepared for the statement to the
extent that he made an automatic response without having time to
notice he was being diverted.
"The check-up for the girl, Dad. It seemed kind of—I hate to use the
word, but it's the only one—inefficient, at least to me."
"The girl had no Voteplate," Bodger said, puzzled. "I should think a
check of all Voteplates was efficient enough."
"But why not have the Goons check her description, or her
fingerprints, or even check for the scar on her arm?" said Lloyd. "It'd
be much simpler, and surer."
Bodger shook his head. "Not at all, Lloyd. A Goon, you must
remember, doesn't 'see' as we do. Its television lenses are only
geared to recognize streets, Units, sectors, and so on, and to tell
Goons from Kinsmen. Anything as delicate as actual recognition of a
face would involve the building of a Brain greater in mass than the
current one. No, Voteplates were the only answer to identification
problems; that's half the reason they exist. As to fingerprints—They
will serve in identifying an individual, it's true, if a person's identity is
in doubt. But it takes time, and the fingerprint files are enormous; to
do so in trying to locate one person in a full Temple gathering would
have taken many hours, and there was a time element involved. The
ensuing Service could not begin until the Temple was emptied.
Finally, as to the scar—" Bodger looked decidedly uncomfortable,
then sighed and said, "—As son of the Secondary Speakster—and
future daughter-in-law, Grace—perhaps it's time you were told a fact
that is rather embarrassing to the regime, but all too true: In the Hive,
people do not always report injuries. While we do not enjoy this mild
form of treason to the planned medical facilities of the Hive, we
nevertheless tolerate it, for the simple reason that it's bothersome
treating every scratch and bruise that occurs, most of which will heal
themselves. And so, if we had the Goons check for the girl's scar, we
might have found a large number of medical violations among the
Kinsmen at the Service. Under that circumstance, we would have to
hospitalize everyone; Goons are trained to spot any deviation from a
healthy norm beyond a certain degree. It would have been terribly
awkward, all around. So the only sure method was—"

Bodger stopped, as though violently stunned. "Lloyd—" Bodger said,


his heart hammering with a nameless dread. "I was activating the
Temple Speaksters last night. I gave the warning about the girl to
your Temple. I remember distinctly what I said. And I know I made no
mention of the type or location of her injury. No mention at all. How
did you know it?!"
Lloyd's lips worked, but he couldn't bring up a syllable from his
constricting lungs. Grace, her hands knotted into fists, looked at the
carpet, and sat like a marble statue.
Bodger got to his feet, towering over the two of them.
"I'm talking to you, Lloyd. Answer me! How did you know?"
Lloyd's ribs abruptly began to function again, and he drew in what felt
like the deepest breath of his life. Then he stood and faced his father,
defiantly.
"Because she's here, Dad. Right behind that door! And Andra Corby
was the girl in our Unit last night, furthermore. I helped her escape
from the Temple, with Grace's Voteplate. Now, what are you going to
do about it!?"
Bodger fell back into his chair like a crumpling jointed doll, his face
shocked and incredulous. "I don't believe it," he said stiffly, pressing
his hands upon the chair arms to halt their trembling. "Lloyd, it's not
true!"
The bedroom door opened, then, and Andra came out. When Bodger
saw her, something inside him cracked, and he suddenly dropped his
face into his hands and just groaned. Lloyd was at his side in an
instant.
"Dad," he said, gripping the other man's shoulders, "Dad, I had to tell
you. I've been entangling myself in so many lies since last night—It
was the only thing left to do!"
Bodger looked up, wide-eyed with dismay, and shrugged Lloyd's
hands away. "Let me think!" he said, hoarsely. "I have to think!
Stanton mustn't find this out. I've already covered up for your idiotic
Vote, and for your taking Grace—all right, Andra—up to our Unit last
night. There has to be a way to prevent your horrible errors being
found out. I'll cover, somehow, Lloyd. If I can find a way, I'll cover up,
and—"
"Dad—!"
Something in the young man's tone made Bodger stop his frantic
raving. He looked into his son's eyes, and saw the question even
before Lloyd asked it.
"Why should you cover up?"
Bodger grabbed at his shattered self-control, and sat up, stiffly. "I—I
don't follow you, son."
"I said," Lloyd repeated sadly, "why should you cover up for me? I'll
only be hospitalized for Readjustment, won't I?... Won't I!?"
"Lloyd," Bodger said sickly, getting up and clutching his son's hands,
"you're over-wrought, right now, you've been under a strain...."
"All the more reason for my hospitalization, then," Lloyd said, with all
the relentless cruelty he could muster in the face of his father's
ghastly fright.
"No!" Bodger yelled. "You can't go! You don't understand, Lloyd! I
can't explain here."
"There's no need to," Lloyd said, suddenly softening and taking his
father by the hands to halt their frenetic quavering. "Your attitude has
told me all I want to know. Andra was speaking the truth. There are
no hospitals, no treatment, no Readjustment. Only death."
"Lloyd—!" Bodger said. "If you only knew why—"
"We'd all like to know why," said Andra, solicitously. "Mr. Bodger, it's
no use struggling any more. You have to tell the truth, now, or have
your son—and Grace and myself—be destroyed."
"All right," Bodger said. "I will. I'll tell you the whys and wherefores of
the Hive. Then maybe you'll—"
"I'm afraid such an extemporaneous educational program is quite
impossible," came a voice from the doorway.

Fredric Stanton, just removing his Voteplate from the slot in Grace's
door, had his other hand extended toward them. And clutched firmly
in his steady grasp was the stubby metal muzzle of a Snapper.
The two men and women stepped backward, slowly, as he advanced
into the parlor and shut the door behind him. "I only heard the last few
phrases of your conversation, unfortunately," he said. "I think, for the
interests of the Hive, that I should hear it all. We'll have to go up to
my office, all of us, to get at the truth. I'll have a Goon Squad pick us
up, here." He reached for the phone, dialed swiftly, and soon had
Madge on the line. He kept the Snapper trained on the group while he
spoke, and never took his eyes off them.
"Sir," Madge replied, before he could ring off, "do you think it's wise,
bringing Bodger through the streets under guard, I mean?" She
sounded greatly concerned. "The Kinsmen—"
Stanton narrowed his eyes appreciatively, and cut her off with, "You're
right, of course; it wouldn't do to let public opinion of the regime get
any shakier than it is! I can't wait till Ultrablack, however. Start the
emergency sirens at once. Allow fifteen minutes for all Kinsmen to
clear the streets. Then put on the Emergency Ultrablack."
"Right, sir," Madge said, and hung up.
Stanton smiled, still keeping them covered as he replaced the phone
in the cradle. "You'd better be seated," he said congenially.

CHAPTER 12
"You really believe that Bodger is involved in the anti-Hive
movement?" Lennick said dubiously. "It doesn't make sense, Frank!
Why should the Secondary—"
"All I know," Frank said determinedly, "is that Stanton was shaken by
the news of young Bodger and Andra. It puts me right back on
Andra's team, all at once. If Stanton was in the dark, then it's very
doubtful that Andra's done anything to betray the movement; the
greater likelihood is that she's pulled Junior our way."
Lennick frowned doubtfully. "Andra's an attractive girl, Frank, but—"
"Everybody isn't pulled into the movement like you were, Bob. Sex
appeal has its uses, but there's also a thing known as intelligence.
Bodger and his son are no dopes. If she convinced them—"
"Why should she!?" Lennick said angrily. "Have to convince them, I
mean! Didn't they, of all people, know?"
Frank stood there with his mouth open, blinking. Then he sat down
and stared at the producer, dazed. "I must be getting soft-headed," he
murmured after a short hiatus. "Of course they must know.... Still—?"
He looked helplessly to Lennick for assistance.
"I know; it doesn't make sense," Lennick nodded. "The only thing to
be done is to find Andra, I guess, and ask her the answers.
Conjecture is only taking us in circles."
Frank spoke tautly, his pent-up frustration making his words strained
and painful. "Excepting that, as long as Andra's in Grace Horton's
sector, we can't go after her. That's not one of the permitted areas on
my Voteplate. I'd hate to be caught loitering in that area when the
Goons show up for Andra. When they make an arrest, they check on
everybody. If only this had occurred later, today, near Ultrablack—"
"Why do you keep stressing Ultrablack?" Lennick asked. "I still
haven't even figured out why I was to meet you here tonight just
before it was turned on. We'd really be helpless then."
"Bob," Frank said gently, "this is nothing personal, but—Well, when
the movement gets a new member, we don't just lay out all our
schemes on a red carpet for him. There's a trial period for all new
members. You've been on probation for a couple of months, now. The
less you know of our plans, our memberships, the less you could spill
if you were a plant."
Lennick grinned wryly and shook his head. "I know. That was a real
bone of contention between Andra and myself when we'd been
engaged nearly six weeks. A wife can't keep secret meetings from
her husband very well; he may suspect her outings are something
even worse. When I finally pressed her about broken dates, and
times she couldn't be reached, and she told me about the movement,
I was pretty miffed she didn't trust me with all she knew."
"She couldn't, Bob, you know that. The information wasn't hers to
give out, without permission of the rest of us. We could not put our
necks in a noose because Andra adores your big brown eyes."
"I'm surprised you're still speaking to me, after yesterday," Lennick
said with chagrin.
"Bob, you did what any of us could have done: Nothing. One man
can't fight off a Goon Squad. We would have lost two members,
instead of just Andra, if you'd put up a fuss."
"But about Ultrablack," Bob said, frowning. "I know you people have
meetings after Light-of-Day goes off. How you do it is beyond me,
with the streets alive with Goons, and darkness everywhere, even
indoors."
"If there were a chance of rescuing Andra when tonight's Ultrablack
came on, I'd tell you, Bob," Frank said sincerely. "It'd give you the
chance you didn't have yesterday to do something for her. I think you
can be trusted. I trusted you enough, just now, to tell you about the
tapped phone."
"You had to," Lennick said with a shrug. "Or else I'd be leery about
believing you knew so much about Stanton's private call."
"We set that up ever since Stanton started appearing in our Hive-
located scripts. He's always so busy, keeping in touch with his office
between takes, that we've kept one jump ahead of the Goons, on
occasion. It must drive him nuts, wondering about the raids that never
came off."

Lennick got to his feet. "I wish we didn't have to just sit here this way!
At this very moment, Andra may be still uncaptured. If she could be
warned—"
"She could, if top-level privilege didn't entitle young Bodger's fiancee
to an unlisted number. You can go up there if you want, but—I know
too much about the movement to risk it. If you're caught, it's
unimportant—insofar as the sum of your knowledge, I mean. But I
don't dare let myself be taken."
Frank paused, and cocked his head, listening. Lennick, seeing him,
did the same. A keening wail penetrated into the depths of the office.
"Sirens!" Frank said. "It means there'll be an emergency Ultrablack in
fifteen minutes. Or even less, if we did not hear them from the very
beginning...."
"You think it has to do with Andra?" asked Lennick.
"No telling," said Frank. "And no telling how long this Ultrablack is for.
At normal Ultrablack, I can count on a definite number of hours, but
—" He hesitated, then clapped Lennick on the shoulder and said,
"Come on, Bob! This may be the chance we were looking for!"
The producer followed him, bewildered, out of the office and down the
corridor toward the set. Just inside the set, where the siren-alerted
crew members were grabbing their gear together in preparation for
swift flight, Frank pulled Bob aside and led him to a door flanking the
corridor entrance. "This way," he said, shoving the other man inside
and following.
"To the prop room?" Lennick said wonderingly, his mind a pastiche of
envisioned secret panels, inter-level tunnels and the like. Frank kept
moving down the short hall without replying, so Lennick could only
tag impatiently after him, his curiosity at its ultimate. Then they were
in the high, barn-like gloom of the prop room, a fantastic collage of
canvas backdrops, teeter-piled furniture, swords, pistols, fake-
currency stacks, ropes, saddles, bows, arrows, and other oddments
of the trade.

Lennick found his bewilderment growing as Frank pushed aside a


stack of dusty chairs and then slid aside a tall desert-sky backdrop on
oiled rollers. For a horrible instant, Lennick recoiled, his flesh going
icy with unthinking fright. Then he relaxed and gave a shiver of relief.
"Damn those things!" he grunted. "I forgot we had them stored back
here...." Then he looked up and met Frank's gaze, and
comprehension dawned on him. "You mean—Them?!"
"There's a panel in the back, where the operator can slide in to run
the controls," Frank said. "It'll hold two, if you don't mind crowding."
"Good grief!" Lennick gasped. "I should have guessed!"
"Never mind the self-recriminations," Frank said. "Help me roll this
thing out so we can get inside it."
Lennick nodded, and took hold of the jointed metal arm on one side,
as Frank did the same on the other. Together, they wheeled the
massive torso of the prop-Goon toward the center of the room. As
Frank located and opened the neatly disguised panel, Lennick shook
his head in doubt.
"There's no force-field, Frank," he said uneasily, "and once Ultrablack
sets in—"
"Unlatch the door to the street," Frank said testily, "and stop asking so
many questions." As Lennick hurried to comply, Frank added, with
less irritation, "The absent force-field's the reason we use Goons only
after Ultrablack. A Goon won't notice the difference, since it only
determines identities by shape, but a Kinsman would, instantly, as
you just did. There are no Kinsmen out after Ultrablack, so that's the
safe time for us. As for your other worry, about how we'll see after
Ultrablack, Ultrablack is only the jamming of the visible spectrum by
the radiation of inverted light; the compression and rarefaction
phases of the light waves are plugged, dovetailed into, by the
opposing phases of inverted light. Goons," he said, depressing a
switch beside a small cathode-screen inside the hollow body, "see by
cutting off the sensitivity of their lenses to light or inverted light, it
doesn't matter which. Then the Hive is bright as day-light to them."
Lennick clambered up beside him and helped Frank dog the metal
panel shut. Side by side, hunched over the pale blue glow of the
screen, they watched the interior of the prop room through the lens-
eyes of their grotesque conveyance. When the sirens halted,
Ultrablack swept the room from their ken like a velvet curtain. Then
Frank turned a dial, and the room reappeared on the screen, like a
negative image, with white for black, and vice-versa.
"Now we can go," Frank said, releasing a brake. The prop-Goon
began to roll ponderously toward the door to the street, carrying its
two perspiring conspirators. "I only wish," Frank said tensely, guiding
their movement out into the Kinsmen-deserted street of the sector,
"that this thing had Snapper-Beams, too. But I guess an underground
movement can't have everything."

CHAPTER 13
The four prisoners sat glumly looking at the impenetrable squares of
darkness outside Grace Horton's windows, awaiting the arrival of the
Goon Squad. Madge Benedict, without needing to be told, had kept
Ultrablack from occurring in the Unit; it was the only area of visible
light in the entire nine cubic miles of the Hive. Stanton, his weapon
never wavering, lolled against the wall of Grace's parlor, watching
their discomfiture with amusement. Of all the group, Andra's pallor
was the worst, and Stanton noted this fact with relish.
"I don't expect to glean much from the minds of the others," he said,
addressing her directly, "but yours must be a veritable treasure trove
of interesting data."
"I don't know why you should think so," Andra said, knowing all the
while that fabrication was futile; five minutes under truth serum would
prove the President's contention beyond debate. "I'm only one small
cog in a wheel greater than your whole Goondom of force!"
"You almost convince me," Stanton said. "But—No matter. I'll know
the truth in a few more minutes."
"And then what?" asked Grace. "What happens to us once you've
picked our brains of knowledge? If it's death—"
"Grace—" Lloyd said warningly, taking her arm. She turned on him.
"Darling, if we're to die in any event, let's die now! At least we'll have
the satisfaction that a hundred other people aren't dying afterward,
because of us!"
"She's right, Fred," Bodger said, smiling for the first time since his
arrival at Grace's Unit. "If you kill us now, you'll never find anything
out. At least our lives will have accomplished something, if only
continued secrecy about the movement."
"A Snapper Beam needn't kill, if used briefly enough," Stanton said
mildly. "If you four prefer dancing an agonized quadrille until the
arrival of the squad, you have only to come an inch closer. In fact,
unless you return to your chairs at once, I may just do it anyhow, for
my own diversion."
"A Snapper Beam," said Bodger, "is effective only so long as it's held
upon its victim. Can you play yours four ways at once, Fred?
Because, while you're gunning any one of us down, three will be
diving for your throat!"

Stanton, before Bodger's statement could bring the others in a unified


wave against him, pointed the muzzle of the Snapper directly at the
man's chest and pressed the firing stud. A whine of power came from
the weapon as the invisible forces lashed out.
And Bodger took two strides forward and smashed his fist into
Stanton's face. The President's head snapped back with the
unexpected blow, and cracked sharply against the wall. Then, the
weapon falling from his limp fingers, he slid to the floor and collapsed
in an untidy heap.
Bodger, stumbling back from the fallen body, sagged into a chair,
gasping. Lloyd sprang to his side, dropped to one knee beside the
chair, staring in unbelief at the shaken man. "Dad!" he blurted, in
dazed joy. "You're alive! You're all right!"
"No ..." Bodger said, his eyes bulging as he shook his head, his lips
thickening over words that were becoming difficult to formulate. "No,
Lloyd. I'm—sicker than I thought."
"What are you talking about, Dad! You just took a dose of power that
would've destroyed a healthy human nervous system, and came
through it! How can you say—"
"Lloyd!" Bodger rasped, clutching his son's arm. "Don't you see? I
don't—don't have a human nervous system, anymore. The thing I've
always feared has happened. I—" He coughed, and his skin took on a
sickly bluish tinge for a moment, then flushed into a ruddier tone as
he took a breath and held himself in rigid control. "The—The Brain.
You ... must go to the Brain, Lloyd. I—Can't talk more ... ask it ... why
is the Hive...." His voice trailed off, and his eyes closed.
"Dad," Lloyd said, shaking his father by the shoulders. "Why is the
Hive what?! Tell me!"
His father opened his eyes and stared unseeing beyond his son. His
lips, flecked with spume, worked silently, then he gurgled, "M-
medicine ... bathroom ... behind mirror ... I n-need—" His collapse this
time was total, his head hanging limply with chin on chest, his arms
sliding over the sides of the chair until his wrists touched the carpet.
A thunderous pounding upon the front door brought Lloyd and the two
women up short, and they stood frozen with dread as the insistent
sound continued. The inner surface of the door was shaking with the
blows. "... Goons?" whimpered Grace. "What'll we do if it's the
Goons?"
"Stanton's Voteplate!" Andra snapped. "Lloyd, take it, quick, out of his
pocket!" Lloyd caught her meaning instantly, and hurried to obey.
"Grace, count ten, then open the door. We can't delay longer than
that. Lloyd, think fast, and think smart! We're all in your hands, now!"
Lloyd, the plate in his hand, shoved his own into Stanton's pocket and
straightened up. "Let them in, Grace," he commanded. "Then both of
you keep still and let me talk!"

Grace unbolted the door and stepped back. The six metal bodies of
the Goon Squad rumbled loudly as they crossed over the sill and
came to a halt before the trio. The Goon in the fore-front of the group,
swiveling its glittering telelenses over them, spoke in its cold,
emotionless voice, "President Stanton."
Lloyd stepped forward and handed over the Voteplate. The eight-foot
metal creature took it, slipped it into its chest-slot and paused; then
returned the plate.
"Correct," it said. "Orders."
"Miss Madge Benedict, of my office, to be taken into custody at once,
and held incommunicado," said Lloyd, figuring Stanton would be
helpless with no contact at top level, so long as Ultrablack prevented
his leaving the unit.
The Goon stood silently as this information was relayed to the Brain
and thence to the Goon Squad nearest Stanton's office.
"Accomplished," it said flatly, after a minute, its dull grey force-field
pulsating with incredible energies. "Orders."
"Secondary Speakster Bodger—the man in the chair—to be taken,"
Lloyd flashed a glance at Grace, who nodded, "along with this woman
on my right, to his Unit on Hundred-Level, Unit B, and left there
without supervision, by all but one of your squad."
"Orders."
"One of you will escort me and this woman on my left to the Brain, in
Sub-Level Three, immediately."
"Orders."
"All orders conveyed," said Lloyd.

CHAPTER 14
Knowing only the sector in which Andra had been seen with Lloyd,
but not having access to Grace's address or phone number, Lennick
and Frank, in the prop-Goon, arrived at her Unit many minutes after
the Goon Squad had left. They found it by the simple expedient of
noting—in their white-for-black cathode-screen—the one Unit from
whose windows blackness was trying to pour. That meant Light-of-
Day was still functioning in that particular Unit, and that in turn meant
only the presence of higher-ups.
The door to the Unit lay wide open, but Frank didn't dare roll inside.
His conveyance's lack of a force-field would be readily apparent in
such close quarters. He halted, instead, a few yards along the side of
the Unit, told Bob where the door lay from them, then cut off his motor
and the cathode-screen. Ultrablack fell about them like a velvet all.

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