Page 57 of The Biker's Second Chance
And it’s that, her knowing, her not holding it against me, that destroys me even more.
I drag my head up, meet her eyes through the blur of my tears. There’s no judgment there. No disgust. Just love. Pure and fucking terrifying. The kind of love I don’t deserve but can’t live without.
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs trembling as I trace her skin. “I can’t lose you too,” I rasp. My voice sounds foreign to me, gutted and raw. “If I lose you, I’m done. You hear me? Done.”
She shakes her head, presses her forehead to mine. “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m right here. Always.”
The promise sinks into me, burning like fire, and before I know it my mouth is on hers. The kiss is desperate, messy, soaked in grief and need. I pour every ounce of pain, every ounceof regret, into it, and she takes it, gives it right back, until I can’t breathe without her.
Clothes come off fast, frantic, tossed to the floor like they mean nothing. And they don’t. Not compared to this. Not compared to having her skin against mine, her warmth surrounding me.
When I sink into her, it’s not like the other times. It’s not about lust or survival. It’s slow. It’s deep. It’s a kind of love that terrifies me, because it feels too good, too right, like maybe this is the only place I’ll ever belong again.
Her hands are on my face, in my hair, gripping my shoulders like she’s trying to hold me together while I fall apart inside her. Her voice, soft and broken, spills against my ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”
The words anchor me, even as I thrust into her, every movement heavy with everything I can’t say. My tears fall onto her cheeks, mixing with her own, and still she doesn’t look away. She takes it all. Every dark, jagged part of me.
When I come, it’s with her name on my lips, a prayer and a curse all at once. My whole body shakes, but she doesn’t let go, doesn’t loosen her grip, not even after it’s over.
I collapse against her, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers. And in the silence that follows, the truth hits me hard.
She was never wrong.
Not about wanting more. Not about fighting for something bigger than ourselves. I see it now, clear as day. If we don’t fight for something, we end up fighting for nothing. And Zero… Zero didn’t die for nothing.
I won’t let him.
I bury my face against Jayne’s neck, whisper the words more to myself than to her. “He won’t have died in vain. I swear it. I’ll end Xavier. I’ll end all of them.”
Her arms tighten around me, and for the first time since we left Zero bleeding in that ditch, I feel a spark of resolve burn through the ashes of my guilt.
I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna get the club to trust me again. I don’t know how to prove I’m fit to lead after this.
But I know one thing.
I’m not fucking giving up.
Not on Zero. Not on my club. Not on her.
Never again.
CHAPTER 31
IT’S ALL JUST A DREAM
JAYNE
The room is dark, heavy in the way only grief makes it. The fan above clicks with every slow rotation, like a steady ticking clock counting down the hours I’ll never get back. The air is warm, damp with summer heat, and Spike’s body is pressed tight against mine, radiating heat like a furnace.
It should be comforting. It should lull me back to sleep. Instead, I’m drenched in sweat, my breath trapped shallow in my chest. My eyes fly open and the first thing I register is that I’m crying. Silent, hot tears streaking down my temples into my hairline.
The nightmare lingers like claws around my throat. I can still see it. Spike’s bike twisted metal, his kutte shredded, his body broken and bleeding out in the ditch. His lips pale. His eyes glassy. His chest still.
I choke back a sob, pressing my face into the pillow so I don’t wake him. I can’t let him see me like this, can’t let him carry one more ounce of pain when he’s already drowning in it. My shoulders tremble anyway.
Because it could’ve been him.
It should’ve been him, my dream whispers.
