The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 475

Chapter 233-*.

Chapter 233-1

I’m done hiding in the sky.

+25 Pointa

The penthouse is safe, warm, and quiet, but it feels like a cage. If I sit on that plush sofa for another hour staring out over the ocean and mountains, waiting for crumb–trails of news about Locke, I will lose my mind.

The high–altitude air up there is too thin; it starves you of reality. It tricks you into believing you’re separate from the dirt, separate from the blood, but reality always finds a way to climb up the glass.

Down here, the world moves on grease, iron, and consequence. I need noise. I need the smell of exhaust, stale beer, and gun oil. I need to be where my family bleeds.

The heavy steel doors of the Grinning Skulls clubhouse groan open as I step through the threshold, Xena at my hip.

It’s an abrasive environment, loud and unrefined, but for the first time in days, my lungs expand completely.

The low hum of conversation in the main bar area dies down instantly.

Boots stop shifting against the floorboards. Pool cues pause mid–stroke, suspended in the haze of overhead light. A match flares at a back corner table and stays lit, burning down toward a prospect’s fingers before he remembers to blow it out.

For days, the club heard rumors of my collapse. That Cobra’s daughter broke after Locke was taken, that Mayhems‘ sister was weeping in the dark behind locked doors. They expected a fragile ghost to wander through the doors, shivering in her own skin.

But as I walk into the dimly lit room, shoulders square, spine straight, holding myself with absolute, quiet composure, the atmosphere shifts.

There’s no pity in the eyes of the patch–holders scattered across the leather booths. There’s respect. Silent, heavy, and earned.

They see the woman holding the line while the father of her unborn child is in the dark.

They see a Callahan who refuses to bow under the weight of the sky falling.

“Look at you, walking into the lion’s den,” Jade says, wiping down the counter. “Your Dad know you’re out of the penthouse, or did you crawl down the elevator shaft?”

“My dad is in chapel, driving himself ragged,” I reply, pulling myself up onto a high leather barstool. “And I refuse to rot in a fancy apartment like a piece of display art.”

“Good,” Jade says, pouring a tall glass of ice water and sliding it toward me. “Because sitting around waiting makes people stupid, and we’ve already got a room full of idiots measuring their d***s over who gets to kick Vane in the balls”

+25 Points

Neither of them look like they’ve slept since the nightmare began almost a week ago. Their square jaws are covered in dark stubble, their dark eyes bloodshot, their broad frames carrying the crushing weight of a war that has already cost too many lives and too much blood.

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