Chase’s POV.
Once Shannon and my son Chance have rounded the corner, I turn and see the club members, their ol ladies, and the sweet butts are watching me with disgust on their faces. Some of them turn and head back inside while the rest leave the clubhouse and head to their homes.
I sigh and hang my head in shame and heartbreak.
I walk down the steps towards my bike and my knees buckle and I drop into the dirt. A guttural roar leaves me as I wrap my arms around myself. I cry for Shannon. I cry for my son. I cry for the loss of my president. I cry for the loss of my best friend and his ol lady. I cry because I have f****d up badly.
I cry from seeing the look of disgust on Shannon’s face and the fear in my son’s eyes. This is not who I am. This is not the person I want to be.
My son an
