Page 26 of Property of Spike

I can’t breathe. My chest aches, and every word he spits feels like a dagger sinking deeper. “That’s not fair,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I try to hold back tears.

“Fair?” Spike’s laughter is cold and hollow. “You want fair? Fair would’ve been that asshole rotting in a cell while you andAsher got to live your lives in peace. But instead, you come here, dragging your mess behind you, and now we’re all in the crosshairs. So yeah, forgive me if I don’t give a damn aboutfairright now.”

The room is deathly silent except for the sound of my uneven breathing. My legs feel like jelly, but I force myself to stay standing, even as the walls seem to close in around me.

I stand frozen, his words tearing through me like a storm, my chest tight with the ache of trying to hold myself together.

“Do you even get how bad this is, Riley?” His voice rises, every word sharper than the last. “We’re not just talking about your mess anymore. You put every one of us in danger when you walked through those doors. Hell, for all we know, you already led him here, and we’re just sitting ducks.”

He paces the room now, running a hand through his hair as though trying to rein in his fury but failing miserably. “And what’s your big idea? Stroll into a police station and hope for the best? God, you’re not just naïve. You’re reckless. You think that bastard’s gonna let you walk out of there once he’s got his hands on you?”

The silence that follows is deafening, every pair of eyes in the room glued to the scene unraveling before them.

His words are sharp, each one cutting deeper than the last, but he doesn’t stop there.

“You don’t think, Riley. That’s the problem. You never think. And now, we’re all cleaning up after your mess. We’re gonna have more targets on our backs because you couldn’t handle your shit. Maybe you should’ve stayed where you belonged. At least then the rest of us wouldn’t be stuck risking our lives for someone too selfish to see what’s at stake.”

I stand frozen as the final blow lands, my body trembling from the force of his words.

My vision blurs as I step forward, scooping Asher from Tank’s arms. My hands shake, but I clutch my son tightly, cradling him to my chest like a shield.

I don’t say a word. I can’t.

The silence in the room is suffocating, every pair of eyes watching as I turn and walk out of the room. My legs feel heavy, my steps slow, but I refuse to stop until I’m back in the guest room with the door closed firmly behind me.

Only then do I allow the tears to fall, each one burning as it escapes.

Spike’s right. I didn’t think of anyone else but myself. I was so afraid of Chuck taking my son away that I took him from a stable home. Sure, his father would have most likely kicked me out and moved in the woman he’s seeing, but at least Asher would have a home.

I allow myself half an hour to cry and feel sorry for myself before wiping my face and packing Asher’s bag. I only have one outfit, but it’s been washed and dried. I make sure to fold the borrowed shirt and shorts on the bed. I don’t know who they belong to, but they aren’t mine to take.

Besides the outfit, I leave the rest of my money. It’s the least I can do for them helping me. I’m not going to need it, anyway.

Time to make another stupid decision. But at least this one isn’t about myself.

With Asher in his carrier, I head downstairs, keeping my head held high despite the knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. The clubhouse feels eerily quiet as I step outside and walk toward the gate.

Mike is standing there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He straightens when he sees me approaching.

“I need you to open the gate,” I say firmly, stopping a few feet away.

Mike hesitates, glancing back toward the house. “I, uh… I gotta check with the boss first.”

I tighten my grip on Asher, the weight of Spike’s words from earlier still lingering in my chest. “Unless I’m a prisoner here, Mike, you’ll open the gate and let me leave.” My voice is steady, though my anger simmers beneath the surface.

Mike shifts uncomfortably, clearly torn. Before he can respond, heavy footsteps echo from behind me.

“What the hell is this?” Spike’s voice cuts through the air like a whip.

I turn to face him, my spine straightening. His expression is hard, his jaw clenched, and his dark eyes filled with fury.

“I’m leaving,” I say simply, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Leaving?” He takes a step closer, his towering presence making the air feel heavier. “Where else can you go to hide, Riley?”

“That’s none of your business,” I reply, my tone sharp but even.

“The hell it isn’t,” he snaps. “You don’t get to waltz in here, put us all in danger, and then just decide you’re done. That’s not how this works.”

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