Everyone else around the table started nodding, murmurs of agreement and tired chuckles rippling out. Smoke stood first, followed by Throttle and Aero. Chairs scraped back, everyone stood, and for a moment, it felt like we were all letting out the same breath.
Church was over.
But nothing felt done.
I stood and couldn’t stop the drift of my thoughts back to her—Saylor. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since the moment I saw her on the stretcher. Every bruise, every flinch, every goddamn moan had carved itself into me like a brand.
And now… now I had a glimmer of hope that this would all be over.
Once Boone and Gibbs were dealt with, once Stretch was found or came back with answers, once the dust settled—I could figure out what the hell this was between me and her.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t going away.
Chapter Nine
Saylor
Later that night, after dinner and hanging out with the girls most of the day, I was absolutely wrecked. My body was sore, my head was fuzzy from all the conversations, and my stomach was blissfully full.
What surprised me most wasn’t how tired I was—but the fact that Pirate hadn’t kicked everyone out of the room after church. I’d expected him to come back in, throw a nod toward the girls, and start rounding them up like cattle. But instead, he’d just... joined us. Like it was normal. Like a dozen people piling into his room wasn’t anything new.
And then the guys started showing up in waves. Not all at once but in little rotations. Smoke came in with Dice and stayed long enough to tell a ridiculous story that had Poppy crying from laughter. Fade brought in beers, though I stuck with water. Even Drew and Mark, who didn’t usually hang around, stopped in to say hi and watch some TV before disappearing again.
Adalee had outdone herself on dinner. Pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon, and a lemon meringue pie that tasted like it came from a five-star bakery.
By the time everyone finally filtered out, I was camped out on the couch with a blanket over my legs and a pillow jammed behind my back. Pirate was lying on the bed with his hands tucked behind his head, one leg stretched long, the other bent. The TV was on, but I wasn’t even paying attention to what we were watching. It was just noise in the background. Something to fill the quiet.
“I don’t think I’ve watched this much TV in years,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes.
Pirate glanced over at me with the faintest smirk on his face. “That’s probably because you watch it happen in real-time, baby.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, probably. That’s for sure why I don’t want to watch reality TV.” I shook my head slowly. “No, thank you.”
He chuckled low. “You think our show’s gonna do well?”
I tilted my head and quirked my lips. “I mean… you guys have some good things in your favor.” I wasn’t an expert or anything, but I had a decent grasp on what drew attention. And these guys? They weren’t exactly forgettable.
“What things?” he asked and glanced at me again with a curious look.
I held up a finger. “One, everyone is good-looking. That’s going to get people watching from the start. A pretty face always sells.” I grinned. “Some of you guys are going to have a serious fan base.”
“Yeah?” Pirate asked, clearly amused.
“Yarder for sure,” I said. “Though that probably has more to do with him being president. But his looks won’t hurt.” I tipped my head to the side and pretended to study him. “Honestly, all of you guys are going to be eye candy. I’ve seen some of the promos Don’s putting together, and trust me—he’s leaning hard into everyone’s looks.”
Pirate turned his gaze back to the TV, but I saw the small twitch of his lips. “That’s good.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they want to do another season,” I admitted and adjusted the blanket over my lap. “The club might’ve been a pain to work around sometimes, but Don’s got a ton of good footage.”
Pirate scoffed, his voice lower now. “I wouldn’t be too sure that’s gonna happen. It seemed like shit hit the fan thesecond filming started. None of us want to go through this shit again.”
That got my attention. My eyes narrowed slightly as I sat up a little straighter.
This was the opening I’d been waiting for.
“What shit was that?” I asked casually, though the air between us shifted. It felt heavier now. Real.
He turned his head to look at me, and his dark eyes studied my face like he was trying to decide how much I could handle. How much I should know?