I looked up just in time to see Jasper jerk, a strangled sound leavin’ him as he went slack in my daddy’s grip. They collapsed together, then Daddy rolled away, breathin’ hard, eyes still locked on Jasper’s body.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t preach anymore.
Silence rushed in, thick and heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
I pulled Lark into my arms, holdin’ her tight, my forehead pressin’ to hers as relief crashed through me so hard it damn near put me on the ground.
“You’re safe,” I whispered. “You hear me? Nobody’s takin’ you from me. Not ever.”
Behind us, the fire hissed and popped, still hungry, still burnin’.
But it didn’t have her.
And it never would.
***
I DIDN’T REMEMBERthe ride back. Not clean, anyway.
What stayed with me came in fragments, driftin’ in and out like pieces of a dream I couldn’t hold onto long enough to make sense of. The night air cuttin’ cold against my skin. The steady feel of the road beneath us. The weight of her hand in mine,small and fragile and real enough to keep me anchored when everythin’ else felt like it was sliding sideways.
I didn’t let go of her.
Not when we moved her away from the fire circle, her body light in my arms and heavier than anythin’ I’d ever carried. Not when Mystic crouched beside us with a flashlight, calm and focused, fingers gentle as he checked her eyes and pulse. Not when Rune knelt close, quiet and steady, countin’ her breaths like they were somethin’ precious that might slip away if he didn’t pay attention.
Mystic’s voice stayed even, but I heard the edge beneath it. “She took a hit to the head and may have a concussion. We need to keep an eye on her.”
“She’s gonna be okay?” I asked, my thumb still pressed to the faint flutter at her wrist, like if I let go it might stop.
“Yeah,” Rune said. “She’s exhausted. Body’s just… bone tired.”
“She gonna talk?” The words came out rough with my worry.
Rune met my eyes, solid and sure. “She will once she’s rested.”
That was enough to keep me standing.
They wrapped her careful, kept her warm, moved her with the kind of practiced respect that came from knowing how close things had gotten. No sirens. No strangers. The club handled what needed handlin’ somewhere behind us, quiet and final. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need answers.
All I needed was her.
The ride to the clubhouse passed in a blur of dark road and engine noise. I rode behind her, arms locked around her body, feeling every shallow breath like it was mine to guard. Her head rested against my chest, light as a feather, and I kept murmurin’ to her. “I got you, darlin’,” I whispered into her hair. “You’resafe.” Her eyes would open and she would give me a weak smile, the only sign she heard me.
When we pulled in, the clubhouse sat quiet under the night sky, lights dim, the whole place holdin’ its breath like it knew what kind of night we’d dragged home with us. A few bikes lined the lot. Men moved without speakin’, clearing space, opening doors, making room.
I carried her straight to my room. No rush, just purpose. I laid her down gentle, adjusting her head, keeping her still, moving her like Mystic instructed.
“Concussion protocol,” Mystic said. “Dark. Quiet. Wake her every so often till we know she’s oriented, and give her fluids.”
Rune nodded. “She’s dehydrated bad. Been run past empty. I got something that will help.”
I stood there useless again, hands hangin’ at my sides, watching them touch her because it was necessary, because they knew what they were doin’. I hated how helpless it made me feel, even knowing she was safer than she’d been in days.
When they finally stepped back, Mystic looked at me. “She’s stable, Chain. Just needs time.”
