Page 25 of Manic

"I'm not here for Bubba's," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "I need to be let in."

Ulf's expression shifts from bored to suspicious. "Yeah? And who the hell are you?"

The old me would have torn into him, maybe even driven right through that gate to prove a point.

But I'm not that person anymore.

At least, I'm trying not to be.

"Listen, kid," I say, fighting to keep my tone even. "I've got business here. Important business. So how about you do your job and let me through?"

He scoffs, puffing out his chest. "Nice try, lady. But we don't just let anyone waltz in here. Why don't you turn that pretty little car around and?—"

My fingers tighten on the wheel.

The urge to floor it, to show this punk exactly who he's dealing with, is almost overwhelming.

But Tindra's face flashes in my mind, and I force myself to take a calming breath.

"I'm not just anyone," I say quietly, meeting his eyes. "And I'm telling you, I belong here."

Ulf hesitates, uncertainty flickering across his face. "Look, I can't just?—"

"Then call someone who can," I interrupt. "Because I'm not leaving until I get in."

He stares at me for a long moment, then grudgingly reaches for his radio.

As he mutters into it, I close my eyes, trying to center myself.

Ulf lowers his radio, his face twisted with smug satisfaction. "Sorry, sweetheart. No one's expecting you. Looks like you're not as important as you think."

The condescension in his voice ignites something primal inside me.

I feel my lips curve into a smirk, the old familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"I'm getting in one way or another," I say, my voice low and dangerous.

Before he can react, I slam my foot on the gas.

The car lurches forward, tires squealing against asphalt.

Ulf's eyes widen in shock as I barrel toward the chain-link fence.

The impact jolts through me, metal screeching as it gives way.

My heart pounds, a mix of fear and exhilaration flooding my system.

I don't stop, pushing through until I'm in the compound, driving straight up to the clubhouse doors.

As I screech to a halt, the front door flies open.

Ivar storms out, his face a mask of fury.

"What in the fuck is going on out here?!" he bellows, hands raised in disbelief.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I climb out of the car.

This is it.

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