Page 59 of Savage Loyalty

The room nodded as one, grief and anger uniting us in a way words never could. As the night wore on, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. I sat at one of the tables, staring at the map we’d used to plan the attack. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Snake moved quietly through the room, checking on the injured, his steady presence a reminder of why we fought. Steel finally left the bar, joining Blade in a quiet conversation about reinforcing the clubhouse’s defenses. Ghost disappeared outside, his silhouette briefly visible against the glow of the lot lights before vanishing into the darkness.

I stayed where I was, the weight of the night pressing down on me like a physical thing. This wasn’t over, not for the Reapers, not for me. And I’d make damn sure Marcus’ death wasn’t for nothing. The Serpents thought they could break us. The Vipers thought they could get in our way. They were both wrong. But even as I sat there, the image of Havoc lying in the dirt refused to leave my mind. This wasn’t over.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

DELILAH

It’s been six months since I left Hollow Ridge and came back to the city. The decision to leave wasn’t just easy—it was necessary. The clubs’ wars, the constant threats, the bloodshed—none of it was my world, and I didn’t want it to be. At the time, it felt like the only choice to protect myself and maybe even Ryder, though he’d never see it that way. Now, as I drove back, the weight of everything I’d left behind pressed heavily on my chest.

The highway stretched out ahead of me, endless and unyielding. It had been my escape route all those months ago, a lifeline out of chaos and into anonymity. I’d convinced myself then that Hollow Ridge was nothing but a dead end, a place where dreams were buried under the weight of secrets and violence. The rhythmic thrum of the tires against the asphalt now did little to calm the storm in my chest as I headed back.

I’d told myself it wasn’t my fight. I wasn’t part of the Crimson Reapers, I'm not part of the Black Vipers, I wasn’t tied to the endless battles they waged with their enemies. Leaving Ryder had been practical—a way to protect myself from a life I didn’t want to live, one filled with chaos and bloodshed. I didn’t regret walking away; I couldn’t afford to. Still, the thought of going back now, of telling him about the baby, felt heavier than any decision I’d made before. It wasn’t love that made this difficult—it was the knowledge that our worlds clashed in every possible way. The only thing connecting us now was a truth I couldn’t keep to myself any longer.

But now, everything has changed. Six months had passed since I’d walked away, six months since I left behind Ryder and everything he represented. I thought I was protecting myself, shielding my future child from the chaos and danger of his world. At the time, I justified my decision by convincing myself it was for the best. After all, growing up in an MC wasn’t what I wanted for my baby. But now? Now I wasn’t sure anymore. The choice to come back and face him, to tell him the truth, felt harder than walking away ever had.

Until life threw me a curveball I wasn’t expecting.

I glanced down at the small swell of my stomach, a bump that had been impossible to hide these past few weeks. The realization still felt surreal, even after all this time. I’d spent the last five months trying to come to terms with it, but no amount of preparation could dull the anxiety clawing at me now as I drove toward the very thing I’d been running from.

The air in my tiny New York apartment had felt stifling that day, pressing in from all sides like a cage. I sat on the edge of a worn leather couch, my entire body trembling as I clutched the pregnancy test in my hand. The faint double lines stared back at me, unyielding and undeniable. Pregnant. The word hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath from my lungs as panic set in. My heart raced, my breaths shallow as I stared at the test like it would suddenly change if I willed it hard enough.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in my head, louder with each passing second, drowning out everything else. My hands shook so violently I had to set the test down, afraid I might break it. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a mix of disbelief, fear, and something I couldn’t name, twisting in my chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not to me. I had a plan—a plan that didn’t include this, didn’t include tying myself forever to a man like Ryder or the life I’d been so desperate to escape. But life had other plans.

I sank back into the couch, tears spilling over as I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach. A thousand questions raced through my mind, each one more overwhelming than the last. How would I do this alone? Could I do this alone? What kind of life could I give this baby? And what about Ryder? The thought of him tightened my chest, a painful reminder of the chaos I’d left behind. I didn’t want to call him. I didn’t want to face the fury or the questions or the inevitable entanglement. But no matter how much I tried to avoid the truth, one fact remained: Ryder deserved to know. This was his child, too, and I couldn’t keep it from him forever.

The thought of calling him then had crossed my mind a dozen times, but fear kept my phone untouched. I wasn’t ready for that conversation, wasn’t ready for the way his voice might crack with emotion or the anger I knew would simmer just below the surface. So, I did nothing. Days turned into weeks, and the secret grew—both inside me and in the weight it placed on my heart.

The rhythmic hum of the highway gave way to a jarring honk from a passing truck, snapping me out of my thoughts. My chest tightened as the noise faded, leaving me alone with the weight of what lay ahead. I shook my head, trying to dispel the fog of memories, but they clung to me stubbornly, dragging me backward in time. The New York skyline, once a towering reminder of the life I’d built for myself, had long since faded in my rearview mirror. Now, the landscape was dotted with rolling hills and the occasional weathered farmhouse, each mile pulling me closer to a world I thought I’d left behind. The countryside was quieter, slower, but the unease in my chest didn’t ease—if anything, it grew louder, echoing with doubts I couldn’t silence.

For months, I’d convinced myself that staying away was the right choice. I’d built walls around my decision, reinforcing them with logic and fear. But the moment I felt that first kick—a delicate flutter that turned my world upside down—everything shifted. That tiny movement had shattered the lies I’d been telling myself, forcing me to confront a truth I’d tried to bury. This wasn’t just my life anymore. The baby deserved answers, a chance to know where they came from. And Ryder? He deserved to know, too, even if the thought of facing him made my stomach churn with fear and uncertainty.

My phone buzzed in the cupholder, the screen lighting up with a notification. I ignored it. There was no one I wanted to talk to right now. The only conversation that mattered was the one waiting for me in Hollow Ridge.

I replayed a dozen scenarios in my mind, each more nerve-wracking than the last. What would I say when I saw him? Would he be angry? Hurt? Would he even want to hear what I had to say? My grip on the wheel tightened as the doubts clawed at me.

I’d seen snippets of him on social media, pictures posted by mutual acquaintances, or glimpses in the background of someone else’s post. He looked the same but different. Harder, maybe. Like the weight of the world had settled a little heavier on his shoulders. I’d spent hours staring at those photos, wondering what he was thinking, what he was doing, if he ever thought about me.

And now I was hurtling back into his life with a bombshell he couldn’t ignore.

The first sign for Hollow Ridge appeared on the side of the road, the familiar name making my chest tighten. I hadn’t told anyone I was coming. Not Ryder. Not my friends. No one. It felt easier that way. Cleaner. The fewer opinions clouding my decision, the better. This had to come from me on my terms.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the road as I turned onto the familiar stretch of highway that would lead me back to the place I swore I’d never return to. Hollow Ridge wasn’t just a town. It was a memory, a life I’d tried to leave behind. But now, it was the only place that made sense to go.

I thought about the first time Ryder and I met, the way his eyes had pinned me in place as if he could see right through all the walls I’d built. He had a way of doing that, of making me feel seen and wanted and maddeningly alive. And that’s what made this so hard. Because as much as I loved him, I couldn’t shake the fear that he wouldn’t love the mess I was bringing back with me.

The baby kicked, a faint flutter against my ribs as if they knew my thoughts were spiraling. I pressed a hand to my stomach, a mix of awe and anxiety washing over me.

"It’s going to be okay," I whispered, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince—the baby or myself.

The Hollow Ridge city limits sign came into view, rusted at the edges but still standing. My hands trembled on the wheel as I passed it, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. This was it. No more running. No more hiding. I was going to tell Ryder the truth. And whatever happened after that, I’d deal with it. For the baby. For us.

As the town came into focus, familiar landmarks rising in the distance, my pulse quickened. The little diner where Ryder and I used to grab late-night coffee. The park where he’d taught me to ride his motorcycle. Every street held a memory, every corner a reminder of the life we’d shared. It felt surreal to be back, like stepping into a dream I wasn’t sure was mine anymore.

I turned down a quiet street, the tires crunching softly over the gravel. Ryder’s place was at the end of the road, tucked away behind a line of old oak trees. I could see the faint glow of the porch light from here, and for a moment, I just sat there, staring. The engine idled beneath me, its steady hum the only sound in the quiet evening.

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