Exiled (Anathema Book 2) (33 page)

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Authors: Lana Grayson

BOOK: Exiled (Anathema Book 2)
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The
club clapped. Keep paced below the stage, finally subdued by Thorne’s punch to
his side. He didn’t collapse, but the pain distracted him from fucking
everything up.

Blade
raised his hands. “I got a request. Let’s get a nice song playing. It’s about
time I had a dance with my daughter.”

Lyn
grabbed me before the gun aimed. I blinked away the blurred rage as Rose took
the microphone and unstrapped the guitar with a deliberate slowness. She passed
it down to Thorne. The neck broke in his grip.

She
straightened, but not before she kicked Blade’s beer off-stage. She apologized
and signaled to Martini to make another drink.

My
fucking pride and joy saved the day, getting the drugs into Blade herself.

Rose
faced Anathema, the spotlight, and my father’s fingers pressing against her
hip.

And
she
smiled
.

“Hey
guys.” Anathema’s new queen earned a cheer just for looking cute and
acknowledging the brothers Thorne ruled. “I hope no one minds if I say a few
words? After all, this is a time for celebration.”

The
applause gave her enough time to slip a nod to Thorne and Keep. She
straightened, but she didn’t push my father away, even as he crushed her
against his side.

“Anathema
has been torn apart for too long,” she said. “This is our chance to unite it
once more. We were fractured. We were frightened. But now, we’re whole again.
Families reunited. Past sins forgotten.” Her words laced with an innocent
sweetness. She took Blade’s hand. “I propose a toast.”

“Oh,
good girl.” Lyn cheered with the rest of the men.

A
surge of adrenaline washed through me, combating a poisonous frustration that
bound me in the shadows until my vengeance came. Martini ducked through the
crowds and danced her way to the stage. She offered them a tray with two beers,
but she forced one into Rose’s hand. The other she let pass to Blade.

Keep
hauled Martini into the mass of men crowding the stage before Blade got too
good a look at her. He guarded her to the bar and patted her ass as she skipped
behind the counter.

The
asshole pressed his luck.

“To
Blade.” Rose lifted her beer. Blade gave her a lecherous look. “To Anathema’s
loyal Vice-President and…the man who raised me. Enjoy your newfound freedom.
Welcome home.”

Rose
took only a sip of her beer.

Blade
chugged his to the cheers of the men and women celebrating his tangled,
deceitful life.

I
might have neglected Rose while she grew up in silent anguish, but she never
once let me down. Now was my chance to prove myself to her. I’d protect her
like I should have done years ago.

Blade
helped her from the stage, deliberately holding her hips too close as Thorne
simmered a few helpless feet from them. The dance floor cleared and the song
shifted from sensual R&B to a classic ballad. He pulled her into his
embrace.

He’d
regret that.

“Cut
the music,” I said to Lyn. “Get her out of there.”

“Brew.”

The
jagged panic in her voice stilled my heart. Lyn dug her nails into my arm
before I turned to wait in the office. She didn’t have to stop the music.
Thorne yanked Rose away from Blade and forced her behind him as Sorceress’s
door slammed shut. The thud of the door resonated like a punch to the face.

Anathema’s
brothers spread out, offering the uninvited intruder a clear path to his ultimate
death.

Knight
slowly tread within the club. His cut—with the false patch labeling him
president of The Coup—cast off his shoulders. He tossed it over his arm. He
didn’t bear a weapon. Instead, he handed a six-pack of beer to the nearest
brother, as if Anathema’s traditional apology for crashing a party still
applied to the man who tore the club in two and bore the responsibility for a
bloody street war.

Lyn’s
whisper scraped with a raw fear. “What the hell is Luke doing here?”

“Not
on your guest list?”

She
didn’t dignify me with a glance. “He’s not welcome here.”

“Like
hell he’s not.”

Thorne
greeted his wayward brother with a sneer and a dagger released from his belt.

“Private
party,” Thorne said.

Knight
studied the swarming men he once embraced as his brothers. His baby-blue eyes
passed from Thorne to Blade.

“I
was invited.”

“Doubt
that.”

Blade
clapped Thorne on the shoulder. “I told him to come.”

“Shit.”
I whispered.

Lyn
tensed, and, like a snake waiting to strike, she hissed. “Goddamned idiot.”

“This
is a
party
.” Blade’s words slurred.

Martini
did have too heavy of a hand. I crushed my jaw to silence my profanity. If he
passed out on the floor, I wouldn’t get a chance at him. My hand gripped the
gun in my vest. I was already dead once. No harm in taking the shot and earning
the repercussions. Killing myself tasted a lot better knowing I’d have his
blood to wash it down.

“Parties.”
Blade held up a finger. “Weddings.” A second finger joined the first.
“Funerals, births, graduations. Peaceful fucking times. That’s when you start
to rebuild. When you start to talk. When you start to make peace.”

Peace
?

Blade
declared war in the middle of Sorceress, and Knight walked into his own
funeral. Coincidentally, a great place to forge whatever bullshit alliance
Blade proposed.

Knight
held his arms out.

“Just
paying my respects,” he said. “Not here to start a war.”

“Easy
enough to end it right here.” Thorne pulled a gun. Blade knocked it away.

I
braced for the gunfire that would ruin everything we planned, but Rose dove
forward and seized Thorne’s arm before he started Anathema’s second revolution
in the middle of Sorceress.

“Grab
a beer!” Blade laughed, his words mucking together. “Fuck your stripper. Have fun
for once, Luke, my boy!”

He
spun reaching for Rose again. Thorne’s gun aimed, but it was Keep who swooped
in and winked toward the restless crowd.

“Christ,
Dad. You’re already having too much fun.” Keep wrapped Blade’s arm over his
shoulders. “Let’s get you some water so you can enjoy the rest of the party.”

Blade
rubbed Keep’s shaved head and laughed. “And this from the junkie wasting my
good name. At least Brew only traded the drugs.”

Lyn
frowned. “I can’t trust you men to do anything right.”

She
adjusted her vest, popping the top button and spilling the girls dangerously
close to a thousand dollar show. She hopped onto the dance floor and called to
the DJ to start the music again.

“My
girls! On the bar!” She shimmied with a sexy grin for the entertainment of the
bikers. “I want a shot of tequila from a slut’s belly button. Anyone else joining
me?”

Martini
whooped and thunked a bottle of Lyn’s most expensive brand on the bar. The men
cheered as the dancers shed their vests. The men paired up with a partner and a
slice of lime, and the club’s focus shifted from war to tits.

Keep
hauled our father out of Sorceress, and Thorne edged past Knight with Rose
before her tears revealed too much. Knight greeted her. She returned his smile
with a cold silence, ignoring the man who got her kidnapped and nearly killed
just three months ago. Knight sighed a sullen profanity.

The
dark enveloped me as I snuck from the riotous party, back to the ninth circle
of hell where I belonged with my father. Keep waited for me in the parking lot.
His fist was bloody, and Dad’s nose crushed awkwardly to the side.

“Must
have tripped.” Keep grunted as he helped me haul the limp body into the bed of
the truck.

“Uneven
gravel around here,” I said.

“Dangerous.”

I
didn’t bother with the bungee cords. A little tossing around wouldn’t hurt the
bastard any more than I planned. Keep tried to reassure me, but he squeezed my
bad shoulder.

“You
sure you don’t need help?” He strained over the words. He stayed sober for too
long. For this. To help end it. “She’s…my family too.”

She
was, but Rose wasn’t his responsibility.

She
was mine. The betrayal. The exile. Rose’s past. The burdens fell to me.

This
was a pleasure I wouldn’t share.

 

 

 

I
didn’t bind my father’s hands.

I
didn’t fear him. I wouldn’t mourn him.

He
wouldn’t cower from his end, bound and broken. He’d look me in the eyes while I
did it and taste the justice my bullet delivered.

Anathema’s
Chapel was the closest I ever got to a holy place. It was a shrine where men
ruled like gods and punished like demons. I sat him in his rightful chair as vice-president,
a seat I admired when I was a kid and Dad ruled the road. Like everything else
in life, I never looked hard enough to see the cracks.

The
fortified room was built away from the warehouse’s main walls. It connected
with its own separate utilities, protected with reinforced concrete and the aid
of technology to detect wires and taps and other bullshit electronic
surveillance that men used to infiltrate without earning the dirt and grime staining
their souls.

We
guarded everything Anathema with security and brute force and absolute
devotion.

And
we were destroyed by what lurked within.

“You
gonna kill me now?” My father stared into the darkness.

“Yes.”

“In
cold fucking blood?”

I
didn’t bother sitting. We wouldn’t be there long. My gun rested on the table, aiming
for his chest. I made sure he understood what it meant.

“What’s
so cold about it?” I stared into his eyes. “You betrayed Anathema. You put a
fifty thousand dollar bounty on your son’s head. You told Goliath where to find
Martini.”

I
leaned over him, my voice the raking sound of a scythe slicing through dead
air.

“You
raped my daughter.”

“Oh,
so she’s your daughter now?” Blade laughed. “Is she calling you Daddy? Looking
for piggy-back rides and money to go to the mall?”

“I
trusted you with her.”

“All
of this...” He waved a hand over the room. “All the secrecy, hauling me out of
my fucking party, setting me up at Sorceress...all this is because of Bud? Are
you that blind? Do you have any idea the chaos you’ll cause if you kill me?”

“Anathema
survived our chaos. We thrive on it now.”

“Temple
isn’t just chaos. It’s annihilation. Kill me, and no one will be left to
protect Anathema.”

“Don’t
pretend like you betrayed Anathema to save it.”

“What?
Like you did?” He laughed. “Brew. Ain’t nothing selfless in this world, even
your finger on the trigger. You want to kill me so you can avenge little Rosie,
destroy the only remaining evidence of your fuck-up, and then sleep well at
night.”

“I
don’t care about myself.”

“Sure
you do. You’re a Darnell. We come first. Always. In everything. In business. In
the club. In relationships. I raised you to be smarter than this.”

“You
raised me to be a monster.”

“If
you’re gonna shoot, do it now, Point-fucking-blank so I don’t have to look at
your worthless goddamned face anymore.”

He
shouldn’t have goaded me. I grabbed the gun, but he rapped on the table with
his knuckles.

“Do
me a favor before I die. Ask yourself this, son: Are you killing me to satisfy
poor, rough-fucked Rose, or are you killing me so Thorne will sit you back at
this table?”

“Both.”

“You
admit it?”

I nodded.
“The only way I’m a part of Rose’s life is if I’m with Anathema again. And I
don’t care if I have to rip Temple and The Coup apart limb-by-fucking-limb to
prove my dedication. I’ll earn my spot back in Anathema, and I’ll be there for
her again.”

“Doesn’t
matter. Kill me, and your family will be murdered. Temple ordered the complete
massacre of Kingdom and Sacrilege MC. All the men you met are dead, killed because
you showed up to the wrong place at the wrong time.” Blade’s grin chilled me. “They’ll
turn on Anathema next. They’ll do worse to Baby Rose Bud than I ever did. Are
you willing to take that chance?”

“Are
you ever gonna apologize for what you did?”

“Repentance?
What good is it?” Blade leaned against the chair, extending his hands.

“You
have no shame.”

“I
fed her. Clothed her. Educated her. Ain’t my fault she’s sensitive.” He tested
me, his eyes narrowing. “Lots of fond memories in that little pink bedroom,
Brew. Where were you, son? You got out of jail when she was four. Didn’t see
you around.
You
could have taken her.
You
could have raised her.
You
could have helped her.” He sneered. “Shame you never cared enough—”

The
gun fired before I realized I drew it.

One
bullet.

One
second.

One
fucking lie.

I dropped
the weapon. My breathing didn’t come easier. I didn’t expect it to ever gentle.
No major pain lifted. No guilt released me. No joyous celebration raged in my
soul.

I
was twenty-one years too late to save anyone.

But
that didn’t mean I couldn’t start being the man she needed now.

I
didn’t bother looking at the mess. My voice shot like another bullet.

“I
cared.”

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