Hero (The VII Knights MC) - Page 47

“Let’s get back to the club before the fire department shows up,” I announce, straddling my bike. Cracking my neck, it occurs to me I have to call my mother and tell her the news about my brother.

Starting my engine, I close my eyes. I just want to slide into bed with Monet, have her wrap her dainty hands around me. I need her to balance me out, to tell me it’s going to be okay.

I just fucking need her.

24

Monet

Thunder cracks outside, and I startle awake. My vision blurry, I find the other side of the bed empty. Godric is gone. Lightning flashes, filling the room for a brief second. The sound of the lock flipping grabs my attention just before the door opens. Godric walks, his head drawn. Sauntering into the room, he sits on the bed, the door wide open. Lightening flashes through the window, illuminating Godric for just a second, but long enough for me to see he’s hurt and bleeding. Something is wrong.

“My brother died. Because of me,” he says, his voice drained and laced with sadness. My mouth parts with disbelief. I want to be mad at him, but I feel bad for him right now. He’s lost his father and now his brother. Reaching out, I run my nails up the back of his head into his hair.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Godric.”

“He took a bullet for me.” He stares right at me, thunder outside striking so hard, the clubhouse shakes. “Damian…he was the one who kidnapped me when I was a baby and tried to kill me.” His hands rises, touching his chest. “He drugged me that night and set me up to kill Bella.”

I can’t contain the gasp that rocks my whole body. Damian was a vile man, selfish and only looking out for himself, but he drugged Godric to the point of killing someone. He sat back and watched and let Godric go down for it. I hate that motherfucker. He’s worse than the devil himself.

“Tell me he’s dead. Tell me you killed—”

“Damian? Yes, he’s gone.” Kicking off his boots, he lays on his side, void of emotion and life. My eyes dart to the open door. This is my chance to run, but I can’t leave him. Not like this. Sighing, I rest next to him and pull the blankets over us, shielding him, keeping others from seeing him at his weakest. My breath mixes with his. Tears spring to my eyes as I rest my hand on his face, wishing I could take his pain away.

“Godric, killing Damian saved so many people. You have to see that.” I rub my thumb along his sharp cheek, and his whole body rises with an inhale.

“Monet, you’re free. Go,” he states, the words stabbing me in the chest.

“What?”

“Go. Your free, go live your life,” he clips with little emotion.

“But I thought you said—”

He shakes his head, his eyes closed.

“I can’t keep you,” he whispers. “I need you to go.” I want to lay here with him, but something stronger inside me just wants to be free. Let’s be real, neither of us expected to walk into each other’s life, and he knows just as much as I do that I need to go. Sitting up, I climb off the bed, grab my duffel bag off the floor.

“Your car is behind the club,” he informs, not moving from where he’s lying.

Stopping at the threshold, I look him over one last time. I was supposed to be here two weeks, and here I am leaving with ease. Hearing a low sounding snort has my eyes dropping to the floor, finding Phil waddling his way inside the room. He jumps on the bed and lays next to his owner, as if he knows where he’s needed most. I care about Godric. Leaving feels like a red flag, but he doesn’t want me here. My angry, dark hero doesn’t need me anymore now that Damian is gone.

Kissing my fingers, I blow him a kiss from where I stand.

I guess this is our test.

Slowly, I stride down the hallway, my bare feet pitter-pattering along the dusty wooden floor. In the common area, a couple men glance my way with weary eyes. Dragging my stare back to the floor, I leave the club and step outside, the smell of fresh air making me stop and tilt my nose toward the wind.

I’m free.

No locks. No debts. No one holding me back.

Heading to the back of the club, I find my car where Godric said it would be. Opening the driver’s side door, I shove my duffel bag into the passenger seat and start the engine. It has a full tank of gas. It was near empty last I had it. My eyes slide to the club. Godric filled it. Biting my lip, something inside me screams for me to run back in there, to stay, but my heart tells me I need to go.

Tags: M.N. Forgy Dark
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