shitty fuckin’ mood,” Gunner whispered.
“Let me go see him.” I squeezed his hand before sliding past him into the kitchen. “Hey guapito,” I said tentatively to the man hunched over the kitchen counter.
“Mariposita,” Jandro muttered, rounding the counter toward me.
He wrapped me in a bear hug, pulling me tightly into his chest with his face buried in my neck. The hug was warm, affectionate with missing me, but I picked up on a deep sadness from him too.
“Jandro.” I held tightly around his broad shoulders, one hand scratching over his scalp. “What’s wrong, mi amor?”
He loosened his hold on me, pulling away to search my face intently, then looked to Gunner in the living room. “Did you fuckers not tell her?”
Cold dread filled me. “Tell me what? What’s happened?”
“Reaper was going to,” Gunner answered defensively.
“Fucking when?” Jandro roared.
“After she got settled back in and rested.” Reaper re-emerged from his study, the harsh scowl he usually reserved for his club on his face.
“Tell me what?” I demanded, pulling away from Jandro. “What have you done?”
“Sugar—”
“Do not fucking sugar me. What did you do, Reaper?”
My husband’s throat worked in a hard swallow but he didn’t answer, which was telling enough. He did something that I wouldn’t approve of, and my mind immediately jumped to the worst possible scenario.
No...
Oh no, no. How could he? I told him. I told him I wouldn’t forgive him. Does he value our love so little?
“Check Shadow’s room,” Jandro said softly from behind me.
I headed that way immediately, snapping my arm away as Gunner tried to reach out and stop me.
“Mari, please—”
“Stop, Gunner,” I growled. “Just fucking don’t.”
My feet carried me to the threshold of Shadow’s room, the door wide open, which was unusual in itself. I felt along the inside wall for the light switch, my pulse accelerating with the realization that this was where everything went wrong.
The light flicked on, and I found myself staring at an empty room.
Completely barren, with none of Shadow’s personal touches, as minimal as they were. No tattoo supplies scattered out on the desk. No sketchbook and pen on the nightstand. No black long-sleeved shirts hanging in the closet. Even the bed was stripped of all the sheets, with only a mattress remaining.
“What did you do?” I whispered to the empty room, then turning around slowly to face the two guilty men behind me. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s where your mind’s going.” Reaper’s voice was laced with bitterness.
“Then where is he?” It took all of my resolve not to scream. “I’m getting sick of repeating myself. What did you do, Reaper?”
“I burned his cut,” he snapped back. “The act of which eliminates him permanently from the Steel Demons. And told him to get the fuck out of here.”
Blood rushed to my ears, filling my head with a dull, angry pulse. No, this could not be happening.
“What? Where?”
“Anywhere. Just told him to get as far away from you and us as possible.” Reaper crossed his arms, looking defiant, if even proud. “Not that there’s enough space in the world between us and him that would make me satisfied.”
Gunner said nothing, but copied Reaper’s stance, clearly aligned with his president. Only Jandro was sullen, fists at his sides as he looked blankly into the empty room.
“You…you sent him away?” My voice shook in a disbelieving whisper. “Just…cut him off and sent him out into the world?”
“Yes.” Reaper lifted his chin. “I would have preferred something else but that didn’t seem favorable to you.”
My fear and disbelief shifted to an all-consuming anger. I stared at Reaper, standing there so proudly, wondering in that moment what I ever saw in this bloodthirsty, deceitful man.
“How could you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me? I did this for you.”
“Right, even though you never told me this was your plan?”
Reaper sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I knew you wouldn’t want this, yes. But I did what you asked, and this was the best solution for everyone.”
“The best solution?!” I screeched. “This club was everything to him, and you burned his cut?”
“He was no longer a Steel Demon the moment he put hands on you,” Reaper growled. “That fact is not up for debate—only worthy men wear the patch. The only reason I didn’t burn the tattoo off his body was because he wouldn’t have felt it.”
Something inside me snapped. Sending Shadow away was one thing, but knowing Reaper would have subjected him to torture, after everything he’d been through, changed