This is it, I thought desperately.This is how it ends.
Chapman didn’t move. He just lay there, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on Zeke. There was no shame in his expression. No regret. Just a quiet acceptance of what was coming.
He’s not going to hide what we did, I realized.He’s not going to pretend this didn’t happen.
“Get up,” Zeke snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
Chapman sat up slowly, his movements deliberate, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t bother covering himself. Didn’t bother to reach for his jeans. He just stood there, naked and defiant, facing my brother head-on. The sight was both terrifying and beautiful. Chapman, standing there with his body still marked by our lovemaking. Scratches on his shoulders from my nails, love bites on his neck, his cock still glistening with my arousal, refusing to be ashamed of what we had done.
He’s claiming me, I realized.Even now, even with guns pointing at him, he’s claiming me.
Zeke crossed the room in three strides and punched him. The sound of his fist connecting with Chapman’s face was sickening. A wet, brutal crack that made my stomach churn. Chapman’s head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his already broken nose, but he stood firm as his head slowly turned back to face Zeke.
“Zeke!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “Stop!”
But he didn’t look at me. Didn’t acknowledge me. His eyes were fixed on Chapman, his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely controlled rage.
“Get. Dressed,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice shaking.
Chapman spat blood at Zeke’s feet before wiping the remnant from his mouth with the back of his hand. Still, he said nothing. Just reached for his jeans and pulled them on, his movements slow and deliberate. Even now, even facing mybrother’s wrath, he moved with a quiet dignity that made my chest ache.
He isn’t afraid, I realized.He’s not afraid of what’s coming because he knows I’m worth it.
“Hope,” Zeke said, his voice sharp. “Get dressed. Now.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My hands clutched the bedsheet tighter, my knuckles white, and I stared at Chapman. He looked at me then, his eyes meeting mine, and I saw everything in that gaze.
Regret—not for loving me, but for the pain this would cause.
Sorrow—for the consequences we both knew were coming.
Love—fierce and undeniable and completely unashamed.
And resignation—the acceptance that this was the price we would have to pay.
“Hope,” Zeke repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get your clothes and get in the fucking bathroom. Now.”
I forced my legs to move. Forced myself to bend down and grab my clothes from the floor where they had been discarded hours ago. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold on to them. As I passed Chapman, our eyes met one last time. And in that moment, I saw the promise there.This isn’t over, his eyes said.No matter what happens, this isn’t over.
I stumbled toward the bathroom, my vision blurring with tears, and shut the door behind me. The sound of it clicking shut felt like a death knell as I leaned against the sink, my legs finally giving out, and sank to the floor. The tile was cold against my bare skin, and I clutched my clothes to my chest as sobs wracked my body.
I could still feel him inside me. Could still feel the ache between my thighs, the tenderness of my breasts, the scratch of his stubble on my neck. My body had been marked by him in ways that would never fade.
He claimed me, I thought through my tears.And I claimed him right back.
Through the door, I heard Zeke’s voice, low and deadly.
“Get dressed, asshole. Someone is waiting to speak with you at the clubhouse.”
I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound of my crying.
This was it. The reckoning we both knew was coming, and I had no idea how we were going to survive it. But as I sat there on that cold bathroom floor, my body still trembling from Chapman’s touch, one thing was absolutely clear: I didn’t regret it.
Not a single moment. Not a single touch. Not a single whispered promise in the dark.
He was mine.
And I was his, and whatever came next, we would face it together.