Page 52 of The Riders’ Reign

“No, please!” Camile cries. “I’ll come. You don’t need to hurt him.”

Ace shakes his head vigorously at Camile, his eyes wide. I know what he’s saying, silently—stop talking, you won’t be going. I agree with him, too, but if we refuse to take Camile, and he kills Ghost, and probably Megan as well, what position will that leave us in?

Will he still come after Camile anyway? We could lose Ghost and still end up with Camile being hunted down.

I want to roar my frustration.

“Three hours,” Hector repeats. “Bring the girl.”

The line goes dead.

Still sitting in her chair, Shelley bursts into tears.

22

CAMILE

The minute I see Shelley crying again, I feel sorry for her. At first, I was livid with anger, but as I've calmed down, I can empathize with her situation and how she acted.

I understand all too well that by not exchanging my mother's life for my brother, I have put the men at this club in more danger. If I had, Hector would have walked away, perhaps, and left us in peace. But I couldn't do that to my own flesh and blood. There is no way, even though we are no longer that close, that I could betray my brother. So, if I can't do that for somebody who hasn't really been there for me, why would I expect Shelley to sacrifice her sister for the sake of the club?

It would be hypocritical of me to do so, and I'm trying not to be hypocritical about things. The way Vani acted has made me aware of her double standards about things now. Even though I understand her feelings, because it's her father after all, I can still see those double standards clearly. It’s made me be careful not to have them myself.

The moment the call ended, Ace started to pace the room, but now he stops suddenly to turn and look at me. He points at me as if I've done something wrong and says one word.

“No.”

Rook blows out a long sigh. “I agree. Sorry, but you’re not doing it.”

Oh, my God, these men are so frustrating. This is my life, and I'm the one who gets to choose. If they think I'm doing this to be a sacrificial lamb for the club, because I'm so desperate to help them out, they are wrong. Of course I want to do it for the club, and even more so for Ghost, but I want it for myself, too.

Hector murdered my father, destroyed my home and my family business, then Ledger tried to ruin my life, and Rook’s as well. What Ledger put us through was horrendous, and, though I’ve never met him, Hector looms large in my imagination. Almost as if he’s a monster from one of my childhood books.

I need to see this man for myself.

I don't want to face a future where I'm having panic attacks or night terrors about Hector because I think he's still out there. I know myself well enough to understand that if I can see, with my own eyes, my men taking Hector’s life from him, I can put all of this behind me, finally. It would be the last paragraph on this fucked-up story that I need.

The guys probably think that seeing more violence will just add more trauma, but I don't feel that way. I grew up in this world. I want the cartel ended, and all their men gone, and I want to be there to witness it. I want to stare into the eyes of the man who murdered my father as the light dims from his, and for him to know that it was fucking around with me that brought him his demise.

And frankly, I feel as if I've earned the right for that. I've gone through so much at their hands, I should be the one who gets the final say on whether I attend the exchange. Not these overprotective guys who I love with all my heart, but who act like cavemen when it comes to dictating to the women in the club.

“You don't get to decide that.” My voice is quiet but firm. I learned a long time ago when dealing with my father that getting hysterical and shouting didn't get me anywhere.

“With all due respect, Princess, I don't really think it's our decision at all. Not just you, but me and Rook, too. This is something that Jack should decide.”

What the hell? I place my hands on my hips and stare at Ace. “Jack is in the hospital, recovering from major surgery. The last thing he needs is any stress or to be asked to make decisions.” And truly Jack is not acting as the president right now. “So… maybe we should bypass Jack and ask Saul?”

Ace snorts a laugh, taking me by surprise. “Ah, it's so sweet, Princess, that you think I'm only asking Jack in his role as the president. He is the most overprotective man that I've ever seen when it comes to you. And I include myself in that. He would literally string us all up if anything happened to you.”

Rook is nodding along to of this, silently agreeing. He taps two fingers against his chin as he listens to what Ace says, then he speaks.

“Honestly, he’s right about Jack. I know he's not well, but he's got all his brain cells fully functioning, and he will absolutely hit the roof if we take you with us without his say-so.”

“Fine,” I relent. “But I want to speak with him when you call. I need to give him my reasonings to try to make him see sense. Remember, this isn’t only me saying I need to be there. This is Hector. He’s expecting to see me, and if he doesn’t, what will happen to Ghost?”

A heavy bang to the office door makes me jump. I turn to see the door open, and Zoo walking in with a huge guy. I've seen him around the compound before but not really taken much notice. He rushes straight over to a tear-stained Shelley and pulls her from the chair into his arms, whispering soothing murmurs as he kisses the top of her head. I can see why they call him Bear. He's not only tall and broad, but he's heavy, too, with a beer gut pushing against the band of his jeans and straining his cut.

He's got a long, thick beard and straggly hair, but a friendly enough face for a man of his size. Although, at this moment, his brows are drawn down into a deep frown.