“What happened?” Rookie asks, keeping his eyes on Diem.
Unable to peel my eyes away from her either, I answer. “A fucking slaughter.”
“Damn,” he breathes, shaking his head. He knew Diem was on the verge of breaking just like I did. “She have to do it?”
“No. I didn’t let her watch either.”
Diem finally stops walking about twenty yards out. Even from a distance, I can see that what we all knew was coming, was finally here. “I need you to drive us,” I tell Rookie as I jog toward her. I slow down a few yards away, not wanting to startle her. “Diem,” I say cautiously.
Turning to face me, she shakes her head. Tears rain from her eyes as her body jerks with sobs. “I don’t want to be a monster anymore,” she cries, and my heart breaks. She walks into my arms, her weight crashing against me.
“Shh,” I soothe, placing my lips on top of her head. My hands rub her hair, her back, up her sides, and back down, trying to let her know that I’m here.
“I don’t want this, Shady. Please don’t make me do this anymore,” she cries harder, the sound of her broken voice echoing around me.
“Shh. Okay, baby. No more.” I lift her up, wrapping one arm around her legs while the other holds her to my chest. In my arms, I carry her back to the car. “I got you. I promise. I got you.” Seeing her this hurt devastates me. It’s a feeling of heartache I’ve never endured until now. Even losing Dirk wasn’t as painful as watching the woman I love beg me for a better life.
In the car, I hold her in my lap. Letting her cry out everything she’s been feeling her whole life. I absorb her small body, her tears, and all of her problems. I’m her man and it is my duty to be the one to carry the weight. I want her burdens, her fears, her heartache, and her doubt. It belongs on my shoulders. Not hers.
Several days ago, I feared that my love for Sinner’s Creed was fading—being replaced with something else. Someone else. In this moment, I realize it’s no longer a fear—it’s a fact.
I’m ready to live for her.
I’m ready to give it all up.
I’m going to get her out of this life and away from this pain.
Like many of my brothers, the club has always been the sole purpose of my existence. But now she’s my purpose. I can’t live in a world where both her and Sinner’s Creed exists. And for the first time in my life, I’m okay with that. Because now, I only want to live in a world with her.
30
DIEM CRIES IN my arms all the way back home. I carry her inside and she cries in my arms while we lay in my bed. Then she cries all through the night and into the morning. I just hold her and rub her and tell her over and over that I love her. That I’ll protect her. And I promise that this life is over, and I’ll spend the rest of my days building her a new one.
Eventually, she cries herself to sleep. When she does, the only comfort I find is in the peace that is her slow, steady breathing. It calms my heart and my racing mind to know that as long as she’s asleep, she can escape from reality.
I refuse sleep even though my body begs for it. I won’t waste one moment of her needing me and me not being here for her. If she sleeps for days, I’ll still be awake—waiting for her to open her eyes so I can promise her again that I’m going to take care of everything.
It’s after nine in the morning when she stirs. It’s takes a minute to remember where she is and how she got here, but I can tell the minute realization dawns on her. As the memories come flooding back, I see them weighing heavy on her with every new one her mind processes.
Laying her head back on my chest, she sighs. “Do you think I’m weak?”
I almost laugh. “No. You’re the strongest person I know.” She has the strength of Dirk.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
“I’m proud of you. It takes a helluva lot more strength to walk away than it does to stay.” Tilting her head so she looks up at me, I give her a sad smile. “I was too weak to do it myself.”
“Walk away?”
I nod. “We all have a choice, Diem. I chose power and evil over a life that could have been a fuck of a lot more than the one I’ve made.”
“It’s never too late,” she whispers, begging me with her eyes to give up something I’ve already decided to let go of.
“I know.” I refuse to say anything else until I’m sure I can deliver on my promise. Sinner’s Creed wasn’t something you just walked away from. But for her, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.
“I’ve got to pee,” she says, breaking the thick tension in the room. I’ve never been so grateful for her bladder or her bluntness. Getting up, she drags her feet to the bathroom, and I take the moment to go outside and piss too before I explode.