Deep Redemption

I did not move for a few moments, then I forced myself to lift from his lap. Rider’s hand immediately reached for my own. I smiled. His body begged me to stay even though his head told me to go.

But what Rider had not yet realized about me was that I rarely did as I was told. It was how all my personal strife had been caused. I had never been able to toe the line.

With my free hand, I pushed on Rider’s chest and lowered him to the ground. He tried to resist, but one look at my face made him obey. I settled down over his body and wrapped my arms around his waist. My head lay over his heart; it instantly called to my own.

The chains rattled as Rider’s hands threaded through my hair. Then nothing was said, and the sound of the chains was quieted by stillness. I knew what I felt for him. And by the way that Rider’s hands held me close and cherished me with their touch, I knew he felt the same way too.

But I refused to confess my love yet. That would only come when he was freed from the heavy guilt that held him in its grip. It would come when he returned to my arms.

Because tomorrow, if he managed to save our innocent people and rid the world of Judah’s cruelty, then that would make Rider a savior . . .

. . . no longer a destined false prophet, but a redeemed, liberated soul instead.

Chapter Fifteen

Rider

I watched the sun rise through the slits in the barn’s wooden walls . . . alone. Bella had left just before sunrise. She’d had to. It wasn’t safe for her to be here with me.

Though she seemed to not care. I felt a smile pull on my mouth at how defiant I had discovered she was. When I had awoken this morning, it was to Bella peppering kisses on my face.

I loved her. If I had not realized it before, I would have in that moment. But I’d already known. I had known it from the moment she discovered who I was and didn’t run. She wanted me, despite my transgressions.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Return to me,” she had said as her goodbye. I had wanted to promise her I would, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t give her that vow.

I didn’t know how long I sat watching the sun rise slowly into the sky. I heard the sound of voices outside. The lock was turned, and the door opened. I braced, ready to see the prez or VP . . . but it was neither.

It was the brother I dreaded seeing most. It was the guy I had lied to worst . . . the one I couldn’t ever forgive myself for deceiving.

Smiler.

My former road brother shut the door of the barn, a bundle of black leather in his hands. I watched him walk toward me with a blank expression on his face. His hair was tied back, and he was dressed as he always was—white shirt, leathers and his Hangmen cut.

He stopped before me and dropped the leathers to the ground. There was no cut in the jumbled mess, just a jacket, pants, boots and a black shirt.

“Get dressed. Prez will be here in a few. You’re goin’ in first like you wanted.”

“I know,” I replied. “AK came and told me the plan last night.”

Smiler glared at me, then bent down and freed me from the shackles. He turned on his heel. Guilt and shame cut me down as he walked away, a stranger to me now. As he was about to reach the door, I said, “I’m sorry.”

Smiler stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, but he was listening.

It was something.

I stood, kicking the heavy shackles to the floor. “I’m so fucking sorry . . . brother.”

Smiler’s shoulders rose and fell and, shocking me all to hell, he turned and walked back toward me. His expression was stone cold, but when he stopped in front of me, he asked, “Why the fuck did you do it? Why the fuck did you give all this up, give us up? I vouched for you, man. I brought you into this club. You have any idea how fuckin’ stupid I looked when you turned out to be a rat? So why?”

My head fell. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “No, that’s bullshit. I do know. Now. But I fucking didn’t know that the faith I was raised in was a fucking sex ring. I had no fucking idea that everything I knew was wrong.”

I could feel Smiler’s gaze boring through mine. “You were my best friend, Rider. You were my fuckin’ brother. I don’t let no one in. I don’t ever get close to no one. But I did you . . . and you turned out to be a fuckin’ rat.”

“I know,” I said, feeling like shit. I raised my head. “I don’t have the words, other than I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would in a second. I’d have stayed with the Hangmen and told them exactly who was fucking with their business. But I didn’t. And for that I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You were never in the marines, were you? All that was just some bullshit cover story.”

I sighed. “I never served. I learned about medicine at The Pasture. My uncle wanted me to be able to heal the people.” I gave a sardonic laugh. “He wanted me to appear Christ-like. A miraculous healer to our flock. But no, there was no military service. I never left my home once before I came here.”

Smiler’s expression seemed to falter. But he quickly schooled his features and pointed at the clothes. “You better get dressed. Prez is sendin’ you in soon. And Rider?” I tipped my chin in response. “You better not fuck this up, and it better not be another fuckin’ trap.”

“It isn’t. You have my word.”

“Well your word ain’t shit to me now. But I’ll promise you one thing.” He stepped right up to me. “If you lure us into a trap, if this is some fucked-up Oscar-worthy act . . . I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself.”

With that, my former best friend walked out of the barn. I threw on the clothes. As the familiar feel of leather smothered my skin, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Right. All this shit felt so fucking right.

The sound of voices came from the front of the barn. The door slammed open. Tank stood in the doorway. “Get the fuck out,” he ordered.

The biker boots that felt so fucking good on my feet sounded like thunder on the old floor of the barn. The comforting smell of leather drifted to my nose, calming my nerves. When I reached the door and stepped outside, all the brothers were gathered around . . . all standing around a fucking matte-black and chrome chopper.

The same model I used to own.

Smiler flicked the keys at me. Ky approached me, getting right in my face. He cast his disgusted gaze over my leathers. “This ain’t no fuckin’ welcome-home gift, you got that, dickhead? This is so you get the fuck in that place undetected, and so we can trace your every fuckin’ move.”