Ruin & Rule (Pure Corruption MC #1)

War.

This means war.

He’d said something similar in the Clubhouse.

“Why? What are you keeping from me!”

Arthur spun around, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me in the direction of the bike. “I’m not going to tell you until I know what you know. I don’t want to risk putting memories in your head.”

Lies.

He’s keeping something from me.

My stomach dropped to think that the one man who I loved—the one man who was supposed to be on my side—had a hidden agenda. I was still that pawn, being shoved around an unseen chessboard.

“It will only be worse if I find out what you’re hiding and you don’t tell me,” I whispered, following in his footsteps as we stomped through the forest.

He didn’t reply.

He didn’t need to. He knew he was in the wrong. And he was both petrified and eager for me to remember.

War was coming.

War was imminent.

It would happen between Pure Corruption and Dagger Rose.

And it would happen because of me.

Chapter Twenty

So much she didn’t know.

So much I couldn’t tell her.

Death on the horizon. War in the air.

I couldn’t share what I meant to do until she remembered on her own. Only then could I show her why I had to murder the people closest to me. Only then would she understand.

—Kill

We hadn’t talked.

Not one word since Arthur dragged me away from Dagger Rose and threw me on the back of his bike. The roar of the engine nullified the awkward silence between us, but only until we arrived beside Mo and Grasshopper’s Triumphs at the yellow-and-white diner.

Arthur didn’t make eye contact as he took my helmet and opened the door for me. Striding inside, he shrugged his jacket off, slinging it over my shoulders in a possessive alpha gesture.

I blinked.

Why the hell had he done that? Staking a claim?

The restaurant was busy with families, a few biker members with patches I didn’t recognize, and solo motorists.

Mo looked up. His dirty-blond hair caught the last rays of sunshine glinting through the glass. Waving, he motioned us over to the booth.

Grabbing my hand, Arthur guided me through the diner before sliding in beside Mo.

“Sit beside me, Sarah, Cleo, whoever you are.” Grasshopper waggled his eyebrows, stroking the yellow vinyl beside him.

I flashed a smile, perching beside him. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” Pouring a glass of water from the jug on the table, he slid it to me. “Saw the old place, huh? Home sweet home, right?” He laughed as if he’d made the best joke in the world.

Something ached inside me.

I craved answers—to know the history of Dagger Rose, to remember the large compound. Why had something so fundamental as the location of my childhood disappeared?

Something happened down there. Something so traumatic, your brain protected you.

Some protection if it now ruined my future.

I narrowed my gaze at Arthur across the table. “It was interesting,” I said. Arthur refused to make eye contact.

Dammit, what was he hiding? And why was he absolutely terrified of telling me? The scent of him clouded my nose from his jacket. Was that why he made me wear it? To remind me that no matter what happened, I was under his protection? His love?

“Interesting?” Grasshopper laughed. “I’d say it was a lot more than that.”

Arthur’s head snapped up, glaring at Grasshopper. “Enough.” Grabbing the jug of water, he poured himself a glass and threw it back. Slamming the empty on the table, he added, “He wasn’t there. Not that I could see.”

Who wasn’t where?

My eyes flew between the men.

Mo said, “Maybe he was off the compound?”

“Maybe.” Arthur raised a finger, signaling the waitress. “But I don’t like the fact that the motherfucker wasn’t there. If I’d had a clean shot, I could’ve taken him out and handicapped them before…” His eyes fell on me, lips zipping tight.

“You’ve had a shitload of times you could’ve taken him out. That wasn’t how you wanted it to go down, dude.” Grasshopper glanced my way. “Cleo… maybe you shouldn’t—”

“What, be here? Listen to whatever you guys are planning?” I balled my hands in my lap. “No way are you keeping me in the dark anymore. Any of you.” My eyes bored into Arthur’s, transmitting just how close I was to losing it and screaming for truth. “Tell me. I want to hear all of it.”

Grasshopper flicked a glance at Arthur, but not before I saw the look of nervousness in his gaze.

“Stop doing that,” I snapped.

“Stop what?” Grasshopper blinked guilty.

Ugh!

“You know what. All of you do.” Glaring at the men, I added, “I’ve remembered enough to know that Arthur and I have history. I’ve come from the same place he has. We grew up together. Whatever you’re hiding from the past affects me, too. I deserve to know what it is.”

Arthur suddenly took my hand, squeezing it in full view of his brothers. “Don’t be so keen to learn horrible things, Buttercup.”

“Don’t ‘Buttercup’ me. I want the truth, Art. And I want it now.” When he didn’t move, I lowered my voice to a plea. “Tell me everything—including why you want to start a war. What did they do to deserve it?”

Arthur’s jacket made my skin prick with heat.