There are a lot of new faces, men I don’t recognize. They look rough even for bikers, with hard eyes that assess us like we’re targets rather than brothers.
The room feels wrong. Everything about it feels wrong.
I spot Atlas at his usual table in the corner, holding court like the king he thinks he is. Naomi sits beside him, her red curls gleaming in the dimly lit room. A few other club officers flank them. Men I’ve known for years, men I’ve bled with. Bled for.
I walk straight toward them, feeling every eye in the room track my progress.
“Well, look who’s decided to grace us with his presence,” Atlas says, his voice loud enough to carry through the silent room. “The prodigal son returns. And he brought a new friend.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the room, forced and uncomfortable.
“What brings you here, Viper?” Atlas continues, emphasizing my road name like it’s a joke now. “You come to beg forgiveness for turning your back on your brothers? For choosing a piece of ass over family?”
I keep my face blank, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “I’m not Viper anymore.”
“No?” Atlas raises an eyebrow. “Then what are you?”
“Just Roman,” I say. “Roman Sullivan.”
Atlas snorts. “Is that right? Well, just Roman Sullivan, if you’re here to beg forgiveness, we’ll have to think up a fitting punishment. What do you think, brothers?” He looks around the room. “What’s a fair price for a man who walked away from his brothers?”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” Naomi says, her voice a sultry purr that turns my stomach. “Though Roman might enjoy them too much.”
More laughter, less forced this time. I look at her and feel nothing but revulsion. How did I not see it before? Thecalculation in her eyes, the manipulation in her smile? How could I have been so blind to what was right in front of me?
Without a word, I pull off my cut. The room goes quiet again as I place it on the table in front of Atlas.
“I’m not coming back,” I say, my voice steady despite the thundering of my heart. “I’m done.”
The silence in the room is absolute now, charged with disbelief and hostility. Atlas stares at the cut like it’s a snake that might bite him, then slowly raises his eyes to mine.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice is dangerously soft.
“Making a choice,” I reply.
“Choosing a bitch over your brothers?” someone calls from the crowd. I don’t turn to look, don’t want to see which of my so-called brothers it is.
“The choice is already made,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then I lean forward, placing my palms flat on Atlas’s table, getting right in his face. “I know the club’s been harassing Kayla. I know you’ve been sending the women to make her life hell at work, and the men to follow her, to scare her. It stops. Today.”
A muscle twitches in Atlas’s jaw, the only sign that he’s surprised I know. “And how exactly do you plan to stop us? You just handed in your cut. You’re nothing to us now.”
“Thanks to your little wife,” he continues, raising his voice for the room, “we’ve got cops climbing all up our asses, poking their noses into our business. She needs to learn a lesson, doesn’t she, boys?”
A cheer goes up from the assembled men, and I feel a chill run down my spine. This isn’t just harassment. They’re planning something worse.
“Leave her alone,” I say, not backing down, not flinching. “Or I will burn this club to the ground.”
Atlas laughs in my face, genuinely amused. “Really? And how do you plan on doing that? You and what army?” He looks past me at Gray. “Your little friend here going to help you?”
Gray steps forward. Rather than being impressed by Atlas’s bravado, he instead looks rather bored. “You know exactly who I am, Atlas.”
“Sure do,” Atlas nods. “So answer me this: what do Dragon’s boys have to do with this traitor?”
“Kayla Sullivan is now under Dragon’s protection,” Gray says, his voice carrying easily through the now-silent room. “You will all leave her alone unless you want to start a war between our clubs.”
Atlas’s face tightens, some of his confidence slipping. “Why is the Inferno getting involved in this? What’s it to you?”
“We don’t answer to you,” Gray says flatly.