"I love them," Olivia says, her whole demeanor changing as she talks about her class. "They're at such an amazing age. Old enough to be independent but still young enough to be excited about learning. And they say the funniest things."
I listen as she tells stories about her students—the boy who brought his pet lizard to school in his pocket, the girl who corrected the principal's grammar during an assembly, the twins who switch places to try to trick her.
For a little while, Devin doesn't exist. The bruises fade into the background. It's just us, sharing a meal and conversation like we used to.
But reality can only be held at bay for so long. My phone buzzes with a text, and when I check it, Knight's preliminary report on Devin fills the screen. The mood shifts instantly as I read through the information, my expression hardening.
"What is it?" Olivia asks, noticing the change.
I consider lying, protecting her from the details, but she deserves the truth. "My club brother did some digging on Devin."
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. "And?"
"He's got priors. Two assault charges from before he moved to Hope Peak. Both against ex-girlfriends. Both dropped when the women refused to testify."
Olivia sets her fork down slowly, her appetite clearly gone. "I didn't know that."
"There's more. DUIs. Bar fights. Pattern of escalating violence." I look up from the phone, meeting her eyes. "This isn't his first time, Liv. It's just his pattern."
She swallows hard. "I really know how to pick them, don't I?" The attempt at humor falls flat, her voice cracking on the last word.
"This isn't your fault." I set the phone down, leaning forward. "Men like Devin target kind people. People who see the best in others. People who give second chances."
"People like me." Her eyes fill with tears that she blinks away furiously. "Stupid, naive people who believe every apology."
"Stop." My voice is firm but gentle. "You're not stupid. You're hopeful. You believe in people. That's not a weakness, Olivia."
A tear escapes despite her efforts, sliding down her cheek. "Feels like one right now."
Without thinking, I reach across the table and brush the tear away with my thumb. Her skin is soft beneath my calloused finger, and she freezes at the contact, her eyes widening slightly.
"Trust is only a weakness when it's given to the wrong person," I say softly. "It's a strength with the right ones."
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the years between us seem to disappear. I'm just Tyler and she's just Olivia, two kids who grew up relying on each other before life pulled us in different directions.
She's the first to break the connection, looking down at her half-eaten food. "I should have called you sooner," she says quietly. "I was just... ashamed. I didn't want you to know how bad things had gotten. How stupid I'd been."
"You called when you were ready. That's what matters." I sit back, giving her space. "And I came. That's what matters too."
She nods, wiping away another stray tear. "Thank you. For coming back. For helping me. For not... judging."
"I'd never judge you, Liv. Never."
A small, sad smile touches her lips. "Even though I'm a mess?"
"Especially then." I return her smile with a slight one of my own. "We're all messes in our own ways."
"Even big bad bikers?" she teases, the humor a clear attempt to lighten the moment.
I play along, grateful for the shift. "Especially big bad bikers. You should see these guys try to figure out their taxes."
She laughs, the sound bright and unexpected in the drab motel room. I've missed that laugh. I've missed her.
"So, what now?" she asks after her laughter fades. "Besides your 'talk' with Devin tomorrow."
I consider the question. The immediate danger is Devin, but there are longer-term issues to address. Where Olivia will stay. How to ensure her safety moving forward. What happens when I need to return to the club.
"One step at a time," I say finally. "Let's deal with Devin first. Then we can figure out the rest."
