“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said softly. “I lost my sister. I lost lots of brothers. I know how it hurts. You lose your dad, too?”
His words. His touch. His warm embrace. She almost unraveled right then. “I never knew him. And now that my mom is dead, I’ll never know who he is. I used to pretend he didn’t know about me, but that if he did, he would have taken me away and protected me.” She held up her left hand, showing him her ring. “All I have is this. My mother said he came to see me at the hospital the night I was born, and left it for me. It’s the Phantom’s ring. Do you know who he is?”
“Comic book hero.” Holt chuckled. “You like comic books?”
“Yeah.” She buried her face in his shoulder so he couldn’t see her blush. “That’s my geek side showing again.”
“Like the geek side,” Holt said. “We got a geek at the clubhouse. Hacker. Big into computers. He went to university and has a bunch of degrees, but he’s pretty laid back and doesn’t make a big deal about it. The rest of us, except Dax, don’t have much education. Some finished high school or did a few college courses. Not me. Wound up in juvenile detention when I was sixteen and when I got out, I left town, and went on the road. Found the Sinners.”
“I left town when I was fifteen, too.” And only after her grandmother’s priest had saved her from going through with her plan to shoot Viper by way of revenge. But that wasn’t a story she shared with anyone. Not even Ally. She’d hit rock bottom that night. Lost to herself. Betrayed by her mother. Nowhere to go. No one to turn to. She’d bought the gun. Walked through town. And only a chance encounter with Father Doyle had saved her from a lifetime of regret. In that moment, she realized how far she’d fallen. It was the only time in her life she had ever asked for help.
“Well then the geek and the biker have something in common.” He stroked a warm hand down her back, his touch soothing. “So tell me more about the Phantom. Does his ring have magical powers? Can it turn us invisible so we can just walk into the Black Jack clubhouse, take out Viper, and walk out again?”
Naiya smiled up at him. She rarely told anyone about the ring for fear they would make fun of her. But Holt seemed genuinely interested.
“He was a ghost with no superpowers so he defeated his foes using his intelligence. He wore two rings that could permanently mark everyone they touched. This one is the Good Mark, and people who touch it are under the Phantom’s protection and the mark gives good luck. On his right hand he wears the Skull Mark and people that receive it, usually with a punch, are branded a victim of his wrath and bad luck follows them around. I used to imagine he gave me the Good Mark to protect me. Not that it did any good. I’ve had to look after myself since my grandmother passed away.”
“Maybe it did,” he said. “You found me. I’ll protect you.”
“Not the Sinners?” She bit her lip and then forged ahead. “You aren’t going back to the club?”
“They fucking abandoned me.” Bitterness laced his tone, and his fist clenched against her side. “They left me to die in that shit hole. After I’ve offed Viper and as many of the Jacks as I can take out at once, I’m going back to make the Sinners pay. Just like I did when I was just a teenager. My parents fucking abandoned me and my sister so they could get high or drunk or whatever they needed to help them forget their shitty life. A street gang became my family. I took the fall for the president when it all went bad and wasted two years of my life in juvenile detention. When I got out, I found out the first thing the president did was go after my sister because I wasn’t there to protect her.”
“Oh, God, Holt. I’m so sorry.”
His voice caught, broke. “I had lots of time to plan while I was in Viper’s dungeon. I got a new mission in life. Revenge. It’s the only reason I survived as long as I did. It’s what I lived for. It’s all I want.”
Naiya placed a gentle hand over Holt’s heart. “I’m not the only one hurting inside.”
SIX
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Holt jerked awake, blinking in the semi-darkness, his heart pounding in his chest. How long had he been asleep? Usually he timed his sleep by the light coming through the bottom of the door. Daylight was safe because Viper was busy with club business. Night. Darkness. That was the dangerous time. He tried to stay awake at night so Viper wouldn’t take him by surprise. There was no light now, but there was something on his chest. Moving.
Rat.
Holt bolted up, brushing off his chest, his arm flinging to the side with enough force to smash the rat against the wall. After so many months, he had a system in place and a pile of decaying rodents in the corner of the dungeon as a measure of his success.
Except this time his hand met with flesh, not fur. And the rodent screamed.
Damn. Still alive. He rolled to the side, his hands outstretched to catch it.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Someone pounded on the door. Viper was here. The pain would begin again.