Sicko(84)

“Royce,” I say softly, tears falling down my face. I’ve lost the feeling in my hand now, but that seems irrelevant when the man I love is curled up after just finding out his father is the notorious K Diamond, the man behind the mask of the worst human trafficking and drug deals in the United States of America since the nineteen-hundreds. Someone takes my hand, but I keep my eyes on the top of Royce’s head. “I wasn’t working with him.”

“I know,” Royce finally says hoarsely, standing to his feet and making his way to me. His fingers come to the back of my neck. “But…” He can’t find the words, but his eyes are telling a full-length novel. They shoot over my shoulder and he shakes his head. “She needs to be part of this. More than anyone.” He scoops me up by the backs of my legs and cradles me into his chest, carrying me back the way we came. “Bring that bastard with you.”





Revenge or forgiveness. They’re the two words that sit on either side of the scale, as you decide where you’re going to add your weight. I had thought about this day a lot. I dreamed of it. I never thought it would ever happen because I thought Royce was dead, and if Royce was dead, no one else was going to save me.

Not Orson.

Not Storm.

Not myself.

Isaac shifts closer to where I’m seated back on the sofa. Slim has taken Sloane on Wicked’s orders, and the only people in here are me, Isaac, Royce, Orson, Storm, and Wicked. There are other men walking around in cuts that I don’t know, guarding the curtain.

“You have fifteen minutes, Royce,” Isaac croaks.

Royce removes his shirt and cut, slapping his father across the face with the back of his hand. I don’t recognize this side of Royce right now. It’s terrifying. “I’ve got questions. Wake the fuck up.”

Kyle comes to, his freckled skin bruised and his eyes finding Royce.

Nothing.

Blank.

Then slowly, a smirk lifts on the corner of his lips. “Tsk, tsk, so the cat’s out of the bag.” Then his attention lands on me, and his smile falls. “Unfortunate you’re still alive, Bunny.”

Royce’s hands come to the front of his father’s throat. “I have fifteen minutes to end your life.” Royce leans in until his lips find Kyle’s ear. “But I only need one.” He pulls back. “So you’re going to tell me everything, and you’re going to do it now.”

Kyle brings his eyes to Royce. “So many things to tell you, so little time. How about you take me somewhere else, so we can have this discussion. Preferably somewhere where Lion is too.”

Royce looks over his shoulder at Isaac.

Isaac shrugs, gesturing to Kyle. “You take him away from this scene, no one will ever know who K Diamond is. There will be no coverage. No trial. He gets no media attention, and it’s hidden. Essentially, that rage you feel will burn out, and then all you’ll have left is the stained bullshit he will leave on your hands, kid. You could kill him here and now and have my team run through it, but you’d have to live without knowing whatever it is he’s hiding, or you can take him, and the stain that comes from his kill.”

Royce doesn’t need to think twice, he puts a cigarette between his lips and blazes the end. “Got enough stains to paint a fucking Helen Frankenthaler piece, Isaac. I’ll take option one.”



We arrive back at the clubhouse a little after that, Storm using that time to wipe the servers clean that showed Wolf Pack’s involvement. Legally, it’s going to look like a bloodbath, but in the midst of it, Storm said he managed to turn it into something else.

I’m wearing Royce’s cut that falls to my upper thighs as I walk up the stairs that lead to the clubhouse, my heavy heels clicking against the pavement. Turning to the left, Bonnie’s blood stains are still visible on the ground, and my heart stings all over again, unable to contain the hurt from losing her. What I went through today—aside from the killing—is something I go through all the time with Kyle, so over the years, it has numbed.

The death of Bonnie is new, fresh, and the sting of her death still sharpens everywhere I turn.

I push the door open and step inside, sobbing silently, hoping no one can hear.

“Jade?” Karli asks from the top of the stairwell, dropping the dishcloth she had in her hand and rushing down the stairs. Her arm flies around me as she guides me back up the stairs. I lose it. The sobs that wrack through me pull at my chest and cripple my bones. Waves of overwhelming pain slap me across the face as an anchor clamps around my throat, pulling me deeper and deeper into bottomless depths of unholy water. My throat contracts so tight that I struggle to breathe, just as Kara enters and hooks her hand around the other side of my back.

“Come on, girl. We’ll get you tidied up.” I want to tell them thank you but no, that I want to be alone, but I can’t gather the energy to push them away. They just watched their best friend die. I doubt they want to mess around with me.

Kara pushes the door to Royce’s room open and directs me to his bathroom, turning on the shower to scorching hot. The sobbing has stopped, my face unmoving. I feel frozen, my eyes dead. The range of emotions I have gone through in the last few hours isn’t something I’m familiar with.

I need something.

Something to take the edge off.

Kara opens up the cupboard in the bathroom as Karli turns my arm over.