Page 17 of Jace

I’m falling too fast, too deep, and the crash outside feels like a warning.

Jace’s world is closing in, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to face it. I’ve never wanted a man like I want Jace. I called him Daddy for a reason. But the truth is I just don’t know if I can handle everything else that comes with it…

Chapter 7

Jace

The Wolf Rider clubhouse smells like gun oil and rage.

The air’s thick with it, the kind of tension that comes before blood gets spilled. We’re packed into the bunker room, the long table scarred from years of fists and knives, the wolf skull emblem glaring down from the wall.

Clay sits at the head, his face hard as stone, while my brothers—Arch, Razor, and the rest—lean forward, eyes sharp, ready for war.

The Iron Vipers hit one of our shipments last night, jacked a crate of guns and left one of our prospects bleeding out. It’s a declaration, a middle finger, and Clay wants payback.

Ishouldbe all in, my blood pumping for the fight, but my head’s somewhere else. It’s with him. Caleb.

I’m slouched in my chair, my mind replaying that night in his apartment—his soft skin, his moans, the way he trusted me even with that crash outside shaking him up.

I’ve never felt like this, like someone’s reached into my chest and rearranged everything.

The boy is under my skin, in my blood, and it’s fucking with me.

I’m an enforcer, loyal to the club, built for violence and chaos. But every time I think of him—those hazel eyes, that quiet fire—I want something else. Something I don’t even know how to name.

And when Caleb called me Daddy… it kind of sealed the deal.

“Jace,” Clay barks, snapping me out of it. “You with us, or you somewhere else?”

I straighten, meeting his glare.

“I’m here,” I say, my voice steady, but Razor’s smirking like he knows where my head’s at. The fucker’s too perceptive for his own good.

Clay lays out the plan—a retaliatory strike on a Viper stash house, quick and brutal.

“We hit ‘em hard,” Clay says, his voice like gravel. “Show those bastards they don’t fuck with us.”

Nods and grunts ripple around the table, but my gut twists. This isn’t just a hit. It’s escalation, the kind that ends with bodies in the ground.

And the deeper I get into this war, the more I’m dragging Caleb into danger. That crash outside his place wasn’t random. I feel it in my bones—the Vipers are watching, and he’s on their radar because of me.

That shit ain’t right.

I can’t allow it.

Not for Caleb, he’s an innocent…

The meeting wraps, and I’m out the door before anyone can pull me into bullshit banter.

I need air, need to clear my head, but more than that, I need him.

My bike’s a blur through Willow Creek’s streets, the night air biting my face, and before I know it, I’m at his apartment again.

It’s late, past one, but his light’s on, and I know he’s up. He’s been like that since the clubhouse, restless, like he’s as tangled up in this as I am.

I knock, softer than I mean to, and he opens the door, his eyes wide behind his glasses…

“Jace,” he says, his voice a mix of relief and worry. “What’s wrong?”

---