This was my world now, and I was ready for it.
Chapter 12
Gunner
The last thing I wanted was to leave her.
Brie slept on her stomach, star-fished across my sheets, cheek mashed flat and wild hair haloed in every direction like she’d lost a fight with a tornado made of blue paint. My shirt was up around her armpits, the rest of her bare as sunrise, the bruises I’d left fading from plum to a defiant lavender. Her leg twitched every few minutes, like even in sleep she was daring someone to try her. Sunlight crawled across the foot of the bed, inching up toward her toes.
I wanted to wake her up with my mouth, pull her into my lap and spend the next hour proving that last night hadn’t been a fever dream. Instead, I wrote a note.
I left it on the nightstand, then stood in the hallway for a solid minute just watching her breathe, hating that I had to go. But Bronc’s text was clear as the gospel: Officer’s meeting at seven. Pack threat level Orange. Do not be late. That meant all hands, uniforms, and extra caffeine. So I closed the door soft behind me, laced up my boots, and forced myself out into the world.
The ranch was blue and gold, dew burning off the grass, the last stars fading as I cranked my dually down the drive. I passed the corral, where the black horse was already up and shaking out its mane, watched over by twosleepy hands who looked like they’d spent the night in the barn. I saluted them and drove on, radio turned low.
The Iron Valor clubhouse looked exactly as it always did: square-shouldered, defiant, and welcoming all at once, the American flag snapped out front, and the faded IRON VALOR MC sign catching the sun just right. There were three bikes and four trucks in the lot, plus Bronc’s silver F-350 with the custom plates. Inside, the air was humid with the smell of yeast rolls and sausage gravy.
Pearl had the kitchen hopping; everyone knew their jobs and did them exactly the way she’d ordered. She wore a yellow apron and lipstick brighter than most road flares, and she was already pouring coffee for Wrecker when I walked in.
“Mornin’, Finn,” she said, voice smooth as butter. “You hungry or too worked up to eat?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Wait… I’m hungry and a little worked up I guess.”
She arched a silver eyebrow. “You look like you haven’t slept. That girl keep you up all night?”
I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a threat. “Not all night, ma’am,” I said. “I had to save a little for today.”
Wrecker heard that and choked on his biscuit. “Liar,” he said, wiping crumbs off his cut. “That girl’s been sending up fireworks since she moved in. Pretty sure you two were trending on Nextdoor.”
Pearl smirked, then pointed at the hallway. “Go wash up, Finn. And if you see Doc, tell him to stop pretending he’s not already here. I saw his car.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said again, then slipped out before she could interrogate me further.
The bathroom mirror confirmed it: my hair looked like shit, and there was a faint scratch on my collarbone that wasn’t there last night. I scrubbed my hands and tried to make myself presentable, but I mostly just looked tired and mean. Good enough for government work.
Back in the meeting room, the officer’s table was already loaded for bear: Bronc at the head, everyone else in their usual spots. There was a platter of biscuits the size of small mammals, two trays of bacon, scrambled eggs heaped in a bowl, and enough hash browns to dam the Red River.
I sat next to Arsenal, who slid a mug of coffee my way. “You look rough,” he said, not unkind.
“Yeah,” I said. “You should see the other guy.”
Papa snorted. “The girl or the horse?”
“Both,” I said. “But at least Brie survived the landing.”
Big Papa grinned, cheeks red from laughing. “Heard about that stunt. Girl’s got more balls than half the men I know.”
“That’s because she dated men with none,” Wrecker said. “Present company excepted, of course.”
I ignored them and loaded a plate, stacking bacon between two biscuits like a sandwich. For a while, the only sounds were chewing and the scrape of forks. Pearl refilled everyone’s mug before they were even half empty. Wrecker had four sugars in his, which is why he never shut up.
Pearl came back in from the pantry, drying her hands. “Finn,” she said, “Maddie called this morning. Said she’s worried about Brie, what with the tumble she took. You boys keep an eye on that girl.”
I nodded. “She’s tough. Learned her lesson.”
Doc leaned in. “You teach it to her personally, cowboy?”
“Yeah, you spank her pretty or just bark orders?” Wrecker asked.
