Until now.
Is it because she looked at me with those warm brown eyes and thanked me for finally telling her the truth? Is it because she's braver than she gives herself credit for, holding herself together when most would break? Is it because there's something about her that calls to the protector in me? Not the club soldier, but the man?
I don't examine these questions too closely. Can't afford to.
I'll call Reaper tomorrow. Explain the accelerated timeline. Ask for his help getting her to Denver. Accept whatever consequences come with my delayed report.
For now, I just want one day where Beth looks at me—Knight, Samuel, whoever I am—as a person she might be able to trust. Not as an Outlaw Order prospect carrying out a club mission.
It's selfish. It's against protocol. It's not what a good soldier does.
But she's worth it.
I stretch out on the couch, gun within easy reach, and close my eyes. The last thought before sleep claims me is that I've never broken the rules for anyone before.
Next Day
Morning comes too quickly, sunlight streaming through the cabin windows. I wake instantly, a habit from years of military service and months of club life. Never the luxury of slow awakening, of gradual return to consciousness.
The smell of coffee pulls me fully alert. I sit up to find Beth in the kitchen area, two mugs in hand.
"Thought you might need this," she says, offering one to me.
"Thanks." I accept the coffee, surprised by the gesture. "How long have you been up?"
"About an hour." She's wearing clothes from the dresser—a too-large flannel shirt and sweatpants rolled at the waist and ankles. Despite the ill-fitting clothes, there's a new resolve in her posture. "I've been thinking about what happens next."
I take a sip of coffee—strong, exactly how I like it. "And?"
"And I need to testify." She sits in the armchair across from me. "Not just for my own safety anymore, but because it's the right thing to do. These people… They're hurting entire communities. They need to be stopped."
Pride wells up. This woman has every reason to run, to hide, to save herself. Instead, she's choosing to stand and fight.
"Two days isn't much time," I warn her.
"It's all we have." Her eyes meet mine steadily. "So, tell me the plan, Knight."
The name sounds different coming from her lips. Not a road name bestowed by brothers, but something more personal. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
I take another sip of coffee, then set the mug down. "First, I need to call my president. Reaper. Let him know what's happening."
Her eyes widen slightly. "I thought we were doing this alone."
"I'm sorry, but that was never a realistic option," I admit. "Not against the resources these people have. We need backup."
"Your motorcycle club," she says, her tone skeptical.
I nod. "Outlaw Order has resources, contacts, and men who know how to handle situations like this. Going to Denver alone would be suicide."
She absorbs this information, fingers tapping nervously against her mug. "Will they... what will they want in return?"
"Nothing from you," I assure her. "Your testimony helps the club's interests, remember? Stopping the land grab that would push us out of Pine Haven."
"Make your call, then. Let's see what your president has to say."
I pull out the burner phone, dreading what comes next. Reaper doesn't tolerate disobedience, especially from prospects.
He answers on the second ring. "Knight?"
