When we pull into the clubhouse parking lot, the chaos hits me like a physical wave. The large common room has been transformed into a makeshift medical bay. The air, usually thick with stale beer and old smoke, is now sharp with the sterile tangof antiseptic and the low, humming sound of hushed, worried voices. It tastes of iron and fear.
Girls—a dozen of them, their faces pale and eyes wide—are huddled on cots and blankets, makeshift IV bags hanging from a rope strung between two support beams. My gaze falls on a girl, maybe sixteen, lying on a cot. Her skin is chalky, her lips cracked, and she’s shivering under a thin blanket. My breath catches. That could have been me.
Sloane is a whirlwind of calm efficiency, her voice a sharp, clear scalpel cutting through the chaos. “Maggie, I need more blankets and warm water! Candace, check this IV drip. Her veins are collapsing! Malachi, get me more saline from the back room, now!” She moves with a purpose that commands the entire room, her doctor persona fully engaged.
Malachi disappears for a second then reappears with two bags of saline in hand. He steps in beside Sloane, placing them within her reach before she even has to look up.
As East guides me further inside, his hand a protective shield at my back, a hush falls over the room. All eyes swivel toward us, the air thick with unspoken questions. Ruby, ever the quick-witted one, breaks the silence, her voice ringing out with playful mischief. “Well, look who finally joined the party! What took you two so long? Did you get lost on the way home?”
Shaky but genuine laughter ripples through the crowd, a collective release of tension. Malachi, leaning against the doorway with a box of medical supplies cradled in one arm, sweeps his gaze over my disheveled state before landing on East with a knowing smirk. “Rough ride back, brother?”
East’s arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer until I’m flush against him. He shoots Malachi a challenging grin, completely unrepentant. “Let’s just say I know what you and Candace did in the garage last week, Malachi. Did you really think no one was around?”
The room erupts with laughter. Knox barks out a laugh, while Ruby shrieks with delight, her eyes sparkling. Candace, however, looks mortified yet defiant, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.
“Oh, shut up!” she retorts, crossing her arms with a playful huff. “I was on a mission! And I still didn’t even get what I went in there for!”
Malachi, who has been watching her with a possessive, predatory stillness, lets a slow smirk spread across his face. He doesn’t laugh. He just holds her gaze, and challenges her with a low rumble that cuts through the noise. “You didn’t get what you came for, hellcat?” He takes a deliberate step closer to her. “We can fix that. We can go right here, if you want.”
Ruby lets out a scandalized gasp, her hand flying to her chest. “Malachi! There arechildrenpresent!” she shrieks, gesturing wildly toward Kyle, who immediately tries to look invisible. Ruby then leans in and whispers just loud enough for all of us to hear, “But seriously, Candace, go again. And this time, try to get the intelharder.”
“Oh, I can definitely give it to her harder,” Malachi murmurs, his eyes never leaving Candace’s. A silent, filthy promise passes between them.
A giddy, reckless energy bubbles inside me, and I chime in before I can stop myself. “Don’t worry about it, Candace. If you can’t get the intel from him, I’ll handle East tonight. I’m pretty sure I can make him spillallhis secrets.”
The room explodes. All the laughter stutters to a stop, and all the eyes swing to me. East, who is still standing right next to me with his arm tight around my waist, just laughs. He leans his head down, his lips brushing my ear, and speaks with a cocky growl that sends a shiver straight to my core. “Hell, yeah, princess. Give it your best shot. But I’m a vault, baby. A vault.”
Ruby leans back, fanning herself dramatically. “I feel so single right now. You all are practically a soap opera. It’s disgusting. I love it.”
Nash, who has been leaning casually against the wall, finally speaks, his voice a dry, unexpected smirk. “Well, Ruby, if you want a part in this drama, I’m sure we could arrange a ‘meet cute’ in the supply closet.”
The laughter in the room instantly shifts, turning from general amusement to a collective, shocked “Oooooh.”
Ruby’s jaw drops open. For the first time since I’ve met her, the queen of chaos is rendered completely speechless. She just stares at Nash, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and a new, dangerous kind of interest. A slow, hot blush creeps up her neck. It’s a sight I thought I’d never live to see.
She recovers quickly, pointing a finger at him. “In your dreams, Sergeant-at-Arms.”
Nash just shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a small, triumphant smirk. “Just an idea.”
“I…” Ruby sputters, completely thrown off her game. “I think I need another drink.”
The laughter that swells again is even warmer, filling the room as the chaos of the night fades into the background, replaced by a sense of camaraderie that binds us all together. The moment is a brief, stolen piece of light in the overwhelming darkness.
East leans down, presses a hard, possessive kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a second too long. “Go help Sloane,” he murmurs, his voice rough and meant only for me. “I’ll be right back.”
We separate, and I feel a sudden, sharp pang of loss at the absence of his heat. I move into the fray, looking for a way to be useful. Maggie, ever the maternal figure, intercepts me. She’s kneeling by the cot of the young girl I saw earlier, stroking her hair.
“You’re safe now, sweetie,” Maggie murmurs, her voice a low, soothing balm. “We’ve got you.” She looks up at me, her eyes kind but tired. “Start with these,” she says, gesturing to a tray of water bottles. “Make sure everyone has one. You, too. You’re pale.” She presses a bottle into my hand, her touch warm and grounding.
As I make my rounds, I approach Sloane, ready to follow orders. Just as I do, the rescued girl on a nearby cot stiffens. Her wide, haunted eyes are fixed on Sloane’s face. “You,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, cracked with disbelief. “You were… Nurse Mercer.”
Sloane freezes mid-motion; her hand hovers over a roll of gauze as her entire body goes rigid. She becomes a statue carved from sudden fear. Knox, who had been setting down a stack of clean towels, moves instantly. He doesn’t say a word, just places himself between the girl and Sloane, physically blocking the girl’s line of sight, his body a solid, immovable wall. His gaze, usually so open and kind, turns hard and protective, a silent warning that makes the air crackle. The girl shrinks back, intimidated, and doesn’t speak again. The moment passes, heavy and strange. It’s a brief, unsettling glimpse into Sloane’s past that I don’t understand.
I keep moving, handing out water, my adrenaline still humming. My eyes land on Ruby, and a small, knowing smile tugs at my lips. She’s clearly recovered from being flustered by Nash’s supply closet comment. In fact, she looks like she’s on a mission. She’s not just flirting; she’s fishing.
I watch her practically corner Kyle by the supply table, which is overflowing with bandages and medical tape. He’s new, he’s sweet, and he’s the perfect, unsuspecting target. She leans in close, her voice a low purr as she gives him playful instructions, her hand lingering on his arm just a little too long.
“Hey, muscle-bound,” she says, tossing him a roll of bandages. “Come here and make yourself useful. My delicate hands are tired.”
