Page 46 of Thunder

"Want a drink?" Marcus asks, his voice close to my ear.

I nod, and he leads me off the dance floor towards the makeshift bar set up near the workbenches. We grab beers and clink bottles together. I sip mine. It’s bitter, cold, and makes me think about an open grave, which is what will be waiting for me if Antonio ever finds out it was me who raided Brian’s office.

No,I remind myself,there won’t be a grave waiting for me. If I’m lucky, I’ll be wrapped up in newspaper and thrown in a ditch.

"Hey," Marcus says, sensing my change in mood and probably seeing the thoughts about imminent death dancing across my very-creased forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just enjoying the moment."

“You look like someone just told you that you have brain cancer, lung cancer, and your dog got run over, all at the same time.”

“Shit, that’s dark,” I say, smiling, realizing there could be worse situations to be in than at a bonfire party surrounded by people who care about me. “I mean it, though. Thank you for inviting me. Tonight’s been great.”

"Good," he says, leaning in closer to me. "Because I want you to know how much it means to have you here with us. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lia. I know what we have to face is scary, but there’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll figure it out. Together."

The sincerity in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat, and I reach out and take his hand.

“You mean that?”

His hand squeezes mine, offering comfort and strength.

"I've noticed how passionate you get about this whole thing, and it’s great that you’re on our side now. I gotta say, I love how fiery you get when you're talking about the environment."

The word 'love' catches me off guard, and my heart skips a beat. Without thinking, I stammer, "I—I love you too."

We both freeze, the weight of my confession settling between us. But before I can apologize or take it back, Marcus speaks.

"Look, Lia, there's something you should know. I've been trying to fight it, but the truth is, I feel the same way about you. I started off hating you because you work for the enemy. But I can't stop thinking about you. About how damn good you look, even in a stiff work suit. About how you make me feel, which is so incredible I can't even describe it. Every other woman I’ve been with, I forget about them the moment they leave the room. But you? You’re stuck in my brain, in my heart, everywhere. When I'm with you, it's like nothing else even matters. I love you, too, Lia."

"Marcus," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm scared."

"Of what?" he asks quietly, his green eyes searching mine.

"I did some research, some digging. There’s this thumb drive I have and… I’m scared of what I might find on it. Of the danger it could bring to us both—and to everyone here. There’s more behind this than we know, and the people backing this project, they’re serious. Deadly serious."

"Whatever it is," he says fiercely, his grip on my hand tightening, "You're not alone in this, Lia. You've got me, and you've got the Steel Reapers. We're a family, and we take care of our own."

"Thank you," I say, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "For everything."

"Hey," he smiles, using his free hand to brush away a stray tear. "That's what people who love each other do for each other.”

"Thank you, Marcus," I whisper, my voice overflowing with emotion. "Being part of this, even for a short while, has been incredible. I needed to feel like there were people around me who care about me, who will protect me, instead of people who might murder me for asking the wrong questions. You, and everyone else here, you’re saving me right now."

He smiles, his eyes shining with warmth, and in this moment, surrounded by the laughter and love of the Steel Reapers MC, it feels like anything is possible. Even survival.

Marcus suddenly clears his throat loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.

"Cheers to new love and unforgettable memories," Marcus says, raising his bottle in a toast.

"Cheers," I echo, clinking my bottle against his. We drink, and as the music starts up again, Marcus pulls me back onto the dance floor. As we move together, our bodies pressed close, it’s clear this is where I truly belong—with him, and with this family I never knew I needed.

The song ends, and then Marcus gives me a funny, unreadable look. The air seems to thicken between us, charged with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

"Follow me. Now."

He grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and leads me further away from the party. My heart races as we leave behind the warm glow of the bonfire and the distant laughter of party-goers. We reach the parking lot where the club's motorcycles are parked—gleaming chrome, leather seats, and the smell of oil and rubber filling the air.

"Marcus," I whisper. “What is it?”

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