Page 3 of Jace

“So, Caleb,” I say, steering us back on course, “What’s a boy like you reading in a shithole like this? Shakespeare? Some sappy romance?”

He laughs, a soft, genuine sound that cuts through the bar’s noise.

“Jane Austen.Persuasion,” Caleb says. “Ever heard of it?”

“Nope,” I admit, smirking. “But I’m guessing it’s not about bikes or bar fights. Now that’s a book I’d read.”

“Hmmm. Not quite.” Caleb tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s not sure he wants to solve. “It’s about second chances. People finding their way back to each other, even when the world’s against them.”

Something in his voice—quiet, earnest—hits me harder than it should. I’m not the kind of guy who gets sentimental, but for a second, I wonder what it’d be like to be the guy in his story, not just the outlaw with blood on his knuckles.

I shake it off, leaning back, letting my grin slide back into place.

“Sounds heavy,” I say. “You always this deep, or is it just the whiskey talking?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe it’s the company.”

I’m about to fire back when my phone goes off again, this time a call.

Fuck.

Why now?

Don’t you assholes know what…

I curse under my breath, checking it—Razor, and he doesn’t call unless it’s bad. The Vipers must’ve pulled something, and the club’s probably gearing up for war.

I want to ignore it, but the weight of the patch on my back pulls me back to reality. This life doesn’t let you walk away, not even for a boy like Caleb.

“Gotta take this,” I say, standing, but I don’t move yet. I lean down, close enough that I can see the pulse jump in his throat. “Don’t go anywhere, young man. We’renotdone.”

His eyes flicker with something—nerves, excitement, maybe both. “I’ll think about it,” Caleb says, that spark flaring again and he smiles a mixtures of sweetness and sass.

I chuckle, low and rough, and head for the door, the phone already at my ear. Razor’s voice crackles through, talking about a Viper sighting near our warehouse, but I’m barely listening. My mind’s still on him—Caleb, with his books and his wit and that fire I want to claim.

I step into the cool night air, the neon sign buzzing above me, and I know one thing for sure…

I’m coming back for him. And when I do, he’smine.

Chapter 2

Caleb

I should’ve known better than to agree to meet Justin at The Rusty Spur…

The place reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey, and the floor feels like it’s coated in a decade’s worth of spilled beer.

I shift in the corner booth, my copy ofPersuasionopen in front of me, but I haven’t turned a page in ten minutes.

The jukebox wails some rock song, and the laughter from a group of leather-clad bikers at the bar drowns out any hope of focus.

This is not my scene—not by a long shot.

I’m a high school English teacher, for crap’s sake. My evenings are supposed to involve grading essays and chamomile tea, not dodging leering glances in a dive bar in Willow Creek.

Justin, my colleague and self-proclaimed “fun coach,” swore this place had character. “It’s authentic!” he’d said, like that was a selling point.

Now Justin’s twenty minutes late, and I’m stuck here, feeling like a fish in a shark tank.

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