Page 12 of Her Obsessed Biker
“Rock,” he greets, voice gravel-thick. “Didn’t expect company.”
I nod once. “Didn’t plan on bringing any.”
His eyes flick to Piper.
She stands still, chin high, even though I can see her knees trembling.
Wolf’s stare lingers…a little too long. There’s a shift in his expression, a flash of something. Confusion. Recognition. Something sharp. He leans forward slightly, his cigar dangling limply between his fingers.
“What’s this?” he asks.
I motion to Piper and she brings out the folded letter she showed me earlier and hands it to me.
“You tell me,” I say, passing the letter to him.
He takes it without a word, unfolding the creased page with the kind of care that makes my stomach twist. He stares down at it in silence, his brows drawn together in concentration, his fingers tightening involuntarily around the paper.
I watch his body stiffen, the cigar burning down in his hand. Ash drops unnoticed onto the rug.
No one speaks.
No one breathes.
Grizz doesn’t look at Piper. Not yet. He stares at that piece of paper like it’s a ghost from a life he buried years ago.
Then…finally…he raises his eyes and looks at her.
She tries to hide it, but I can see her hopes crashing down. Her throat works around a lump, her hands clenching into fists. She’s braver than most men I know. But this?
It hits differently.
She’s not just staring down the barrel of a question, she’s begging for a truth that might tear her apart.
Grizz doesn’t say a word, neither admission nor denial. He just continues to stare at her.
The silence stretches too long.
Way too long.
I feel Piper break before I see it.
She swallows hard, lips pressed into a thin line, and without a single sound, she turns around and walks out.
With one last look at Grizz, I follow after her. Outside, she’s already halfway across the yard, swallowed by the thickening darkness.
“Piper.”
She doesn’t stop.
“Piper!”
She does then.
Barely.
I catch up to her, grab her wrist. “Wait.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at me. No tears. Just devastation.
