Slowly, I shoved the Glock back into its holster.
We jogged back to the road, engines snarling to life as we mounted up. As we peeled away, my eyes dragged once more over the woods. Over the place where that shadow disappeared.
This wasn’t random. They knew we were coming this way tonight.
And... they almost got us.
I leaned heavier on the throttle, the bike roaring under me. But my mind wasn’t on the road anymore. It was back at the clubhouse.
Back with her.
The girl who trusted me to keep the monsters out.
And the sick truth was... the monsters were already here.
The clubhouse loomed in the darkness, the old wood siding catching the flicker of the porch lights as I rumbled up the drive. I killed the engine, swung off the bike, and stood there for a second longer than I needed to, letting the silence wrap around me.
Thunder and Chain peeled off toward the garage without a word.
No need.
We all knew what we saw out there. And we all knew it was just the beginning.
I dragged a hand down my face, the sweat and grit of the ride sticking to my skin like a second layer of grime I couldn't scrape off.
The front door creaked as I pushed through.
I didn’t head for my room. Didn’t stop at the bar. Didn’t speak to the few brothers still hanging around. My boots ate up the hallway floor, heavy and certain. I stopped outside her door. Same cracked wood. Same chipped paint.
My hand hovered for half a second over the knob. I swear I could hear her breathing, slow and even, through the gap beneath the door.
Alive.
Safe.
For now.
My throat burned with everything I couldn’t say.
Everything I couldn’t promise.
I let my hand fall back to my side and leaned against the wall instead, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor, back pressed to the wood.
I’d keep watch from here.
Didn’t trust the monsters outside.
Sure as hell didn’t trust the ones still crawling around inside me either.
She didn’t know it yet. But a war was coming. And I’d tear the whole goddamn world apart before I let it touch her again.
“You’re sleepin’ easy tonight because I’m still breathin’.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE WAR ROOMwas alive with themurmur of voices as the brothers settled in. The heavy oak table was scratched and worn, but solid, much like the men sitting around it. I leaned back in my chair, watching Devil at the head of the table, his fingers drumming against the wood as he scanned the room. The second he spoke, all noise died.
“Alright, let’s get this handled. First up, business. Chain, how’s High Voltage?”