Page 73 of Property of Fox

“No.” Fox’s grip on the wheel tightens further, the tendons in his arms flexing beneath his tattoos. “You think sacrificing yourself will save anyone? You’ve spent enough time in that cage they built for you. I’m not letting you step back into it willingly.”

Keira shifts next to me, her face pained with concern. “Let him help, B.”

I want to keep arguing, but with the two of them ganging up on me right now, there’s little point of doing so. The night thrums with tension as the truck rolls down the near-empty road. The only light comes from a building just ahead.

“We’re here,” Fox declares as he makes one final turn.

A two-level brick structure sits in the middle of the property. A metal barn sits behind it. Bikes and a few cars fill the parking lot. We pass through a gate. A man appears out of nowhere shutting it behind us.

“Welcome to our clubhouse, ladies.”

Fox parks the truck near the entrance before killing the engine. “Keira, can you give us a minute?” Fox asks as the man from the gate walks up to the driver’s side. “Can you take her inside, Van? We’ll be in a few.”

“Sure.”

Keira peers over at me before she opens the passenger side door, and slips outside, following Van into the building.

Fox unbuckles his seatbelt. He shifts enough so that he can see my face.

“Listen, Brea. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to need help from others. But running back to those bastards isn't the answer. I won’t stand by and watch you leap into danger. You know that, right?”

“I do,” I admit. “But?—”

“No, Brea. I need you to make me a promise. Promise me that no matter what happens, you will not go back to them.” Fox’s brown eyes search mine.

I want to make that promise to him, to ease the tension etched into every line of his face, but the thought of what will happen if I don’t submit to their demands paralyzes me. “I…” The words stumble, trembling on my lips.

“I will burn the world for you, firefly. I would wipe the Earth clean if it meant keeping you safe. Please, baby. Promise me you won’t sacrifice yourself.”

“Okay,” I half-lie, knowing that if it came down to his life or Keira’s, I’d never hesitate to save them.

And then he’s kissing me—softly at first—as if testing how far this moment might stretch between us. It feels right. Time loses its grip as the world narrows down to just him and I.

But before I can lose myself completely within this fragile connection, a knock rattles through our bubble. Suddenly Fox pulls back slightly.

A tall man stands in the open doorway, filling most of the space with his presence. “Let me guess, that’s Azrael.”

“The one and only. We better get inside.” Fox opens his door, sliding out before offering his hand to me. “His bark is worse than his bite.” I can feel Azrael’s intense stare on me like prickling thorns digging into my flesh up and down my spine.

The air around us pulses with tension as I step down on to the gravel parking lot, Fox’s hand threading through mine. I glance up at Azrael, who stands there like a sentinel, sharp-edged and unyielding. He doesn’t need to say it, but his presence speaks volumes, protect what’s his, no matter the cost.

“Get inside,” his low voice orders.

The gravel crunches underfoot as I step away from the truck, Fox’s grip firm around my hand.

"Are you ready for this?" Fox murmurs as we pause at the threshold, the noise spilling out like a tide threatening to sweep me away.

"Honestly? No," I admit, glancing back at him. His face is so close now, and the worry etched in his brow makes my heart twist.

The interior is vastly different from the cold exterior of the building. People fill the space, many of them in their BastardBoilers cuts. It smells of leather and beer with a hint of cigarette smoke. Azrael cuts through the crowd in front of us, heading straight towards an open door to the right of the main space. I spot Keira sitting on the couch with the woman who helped me at the signing sitting next to her. Hallie, I think Fox said her name was. The other author. Once Az steps inside the room, the men in cuts stop and file inside behind him. Fox gives my hand a gentle squeeze before walking us towards the space.

As we step into the room, an intense conversation punctuates the air. I can see Azrael sitting at the head of a long wooden table, flanked by another man who looks similar to him, a sibling maybe, and a few other club members, each one as imposing as the last. Every set of eyes shifts to us, lingering on our intertwined hands, and I can’t shake the sensation that my mere presence is like throwing a stick of dynamite into a powder keg. The man who was at the gate shifts behind us and closes the meeting room door, shutting us all inside.

“You're safe,” he reassures quietly before we step further inside. Fox walks over to an empty chair on the left side of Azrael. He takes it, motioning for me to join him, as the man next to him gives up his seat for me. He opts to stand at the back of the room rather than pulling up another chair.

I take a breath and slide into the chair, my heart racing. The wooden table feels cool against my palms as I plant them down, grounding myself in this unfamiliar territory. Fox leans closer, his warmth spreading across our joined hands resting on the table.

Azrael clears his throat sharply like thunder rumbling before a storm settles over us all. "Let’s start now that the guests of honor have arrived," he commands.

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