Damian

 

I was sitting in a little roadside diner just outside of Sacramento. I figured that I was going to head up into Oregon. The Kings had a charter up there, and I was going to look into transferring in. I'd been thinking about what I was going to do ever since I'd left Cara's place. And I'd come up with the rough outline of a plan.

 

Getting into the Oregon charter wasn't a lock. They were going to have to speak to Mills about my transfer, and I knew he was going to give me a less than glowing endorsement. To say the least. But I'd make my pitch to the charter president, lay out everything – and I did mean everything – and start the ball rolling on getting Mills ousted that way.

 

If I was successful, there was still the problem of him being around and looking for a little revenge, but I figured I'd deal with that when the time came. I could only deal with one thing at a time and at the moment, it was getting my ass approved to transfer charters. Everything else, I'd deal with when the time came.

 

I sipped at my coffee and nibbled on the sandwich in front of me. After the waitress had dropped it off, I realized that I really had no appetite. I was sick to my stomach and feeling more miserable than I think I ever had before in my life. Which was saying something.

 

I'd had a taste of happiness. Genuine happiness. And then Mills had gone and ripped it all away from me.

 

I was devastated, heartbroken, but furious. That deep, abiding rage within me was bubbling just below the surface, and I was having a hard time keeping it in check.

 

“You need a box, hon?”

 

I looked up at the waitress, not comprehending what she'd just said. I'd been so lost in thought, I had no idea what she wanted. Thankfully, she saw the perplexed look on my face and smiled as she pointed to the half-eaten sandwich on my plate.

 

“That,” she said. “Would you like a box for it?”

 

I turned and looked at the plate, comprehension slowly beginning to dawn on me. I shook my head quickly and gave her an apologetic expression.

 

“No, thank you,” I said. “I'm on the road. Nowhere to keep it.”

 

The waitress nodded. “Just doin' my job.”

 

She left me alone with my thoughts and my barely touched food. One way or another, I was going to be with Cara again. I didn't know how, but it was going to happen. I wasn't going to let that one good thing in my life pass by without fighting for it.

 

I took another drink of my coffee and had just set the mug down when my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and felt my heart skip a beat when I saw that it was Cara. I was hoping that she was calling to tell me that she'd changed her mind and would meet me. But the instant I connected the call, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

 

“Damian,” she said, her voice cracking and filled with absolute terror.

 

“Cara, what's wrong?” I said.

 

“They have us, Damian. They're holding—”

 

A million different thoughts fired through my brain simultaneously. But overriding them all was the sensation of absolute fear. I didn't need her to tell me who she'd mean by “they” – I already knew. The knot in my stomach constricted painfully, and I felt nauseous.

 

A moment later, Mills' voice was on the line. “Well hello, Damian,” he said. “Cara and Austin – not to mention the rest of us – are pretty upset you decided to skip town without saying goodbye.”

 

“I swear to God, Mills,” I hissed. “If you don't let them both go right now—”

 

“You'll do what exactly?” he said, his voice ice cold.

 

“I will fucking kill you. Harm a hair on either one of their heads, and I'm going to fucking gut you, you son of a bitch.”

 

Some of the other patrons turned to look at me, concern upon all of their faces. I stood up quickly, dropping some cash on the table and went outside. I stood next to my bike, the phone pressed to my ear, feeling the rage inside of me bubbling out of control.

 

“Let's not say things we don't mean and will come to regret,” Mills said.

 

“Mills, I swear to God—”

 

“We were supposed to have a vote. And you skipped town.”

 

I scoffed. “Yeah, like that vote was ever going to happen. If it were, you wouldn't have snatched Cara and Austin when you heard I skipped out. You would have just called the vote, and with me not there, you could have ousted me.”

 

He laughed. “You've always been smart, Damian. I just don't see why you couldn't put those brains to work for you. For me. And for the club.”

 

“Because I'm not a cold-blooded killer. I don't want to see this club destroyed because of the path you're taking us down.”

 

“It's unfortunate, really. You could have helped make the Kings great. Greater than we ever have been before. But you just don't have the stomach for it.”

 

“What do you want, Mills?”

 

“I want you to get your ass back here. We have some business to finish up.”

 

“Text me the location and the time. I'll be there.”

 

He sent me the information, and I jumped back on my bike, roaring back toward town. All I could think about was Cara and Austin, about how terrified they must be. I was angry – beyond angry. I wanted to rip Mills apart with my bare hands.

 

I knew, without a doubt, that I was riding back to town and that it was going to be my last ride. I had no doubts that Mills and his men were going to kill me. If only Cara had come with me – I pushed the thought out of my head. There was no use in thinking like that. My only goal was to get her clear of this shit – even though it was going to cost me my own life.

 

But as long as I knew she and Austin were safe, I didn't care. Their safety was all that mattered to me. So, I punched it and rode even faster back toward town. Toward them. And toward my doom.