And then my mouth opens before my brain catches up. “I love you.” The words slip out so easily. Like they’ve been sitting on my tongue for weeks just waiting for an opening. The second they land between us, my stomach drops. Oh. Oh no. I feel my eyes widen, my heart slamming hard and fast like I just stepped off a cliff without checking the ground. “I mean… I didn’t...” I start quickly, heat flooding my face. “I just meant, like, I love that you’re ridiculous and protective and this whole caveman thing is very entertaining and—”
I don’t get to finish. Rev’s hands come up fast, gripping my face, and his mouth crashes into mine like he’s been waiting for that sentence his whole damn life. The kiss is deep and claiming and hungry in a way that steals every leftover thought right out of my head. His body presses into mine, solid and unmovable. When he pulls back, his forehead presses against mine, breath heavy, eyes blazing. “Don’t backtrack,” he growls. “Don’t you dare.”
My pulse is racing so hard I can feel it in my throat. “Javi…”
“I love you too,” he says, voice rough and certain and absolutely feral with it. “I’ve loved you. You don’t get to drop that on me and then try to run it back.”
My chest tightens so hard it almost hurts. “You do?” I whisper.
His hands slide down my back, pulling me closer like there’s no version of the universe where he lets me go. “Yeah,” he says simply. “I do. You’re mine. You’ve been mine. And I’m yours.” He grips my hips and slams me back against the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, a startled laugh caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. He lines himself up and drives into me in one hard, reckless thrust, the sound of skin on skin loud in the small space. It punches a breathy cry out of bothof us at the same time, like we’re wired together on the same current.
“Oh, fuck, Javi… you’re so deep.” My fingers dig into his shoulders, knuckles white, like if I let go I might float apart.
“Hold onto me, Princess,” he growls against my mouth, forehead dropping to mine. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last… knowing you love me.”
That does something dangerous to my chest. To my pulse. He keeps driving into me, relentless, rough and desperate all at once, and the world blurs down to the slide of skin, the burn of friction, the way his breath stutters against my cheek. Everything else falls away. There is only him. Only us. I love how he takes control, how he pulls me higher and higher until I stop thinking and just feel, trusting him enough to let go and give him everything I have. He fucks me harder until I’m right on the edge, about to come undone and unravel in the best possible way. The pressure coils tighter and tighter inside me, breath catching in broken little sounds I don’t even recognize as my own.
“I love you,” I moan, the words spilling out raw and helpless. “I love you so damn much.”
“I love you too, baby,” he moans roughly, then slams into me one final time, and everything shatters. I combust around him, the release ripping through me so hard, I sag forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder, still shaking, still clinging to him like the world might tilt if I let go.
I laugh, breathless and shaky and stupidly happy. “Well. That escalated.”
His mouth curves into a dangerous, satisfied grin. “You started it.”
And yeah, I absolutely did.
NINETEEN
REV
I already knowhow this is going to end. We handled the hardest parts earlier in the officers’ meeting, closed-door and stripped down to the truth. Lines were drawn. Decisions were made without anyone pretending this could land soft. But that meeting wasn’t enough. This part matters just as much. Church with every patched brother present. No gaps. No half-knowledge. No one walking away thinking this was personal instead of necessary. If we’re going to carry this weight, we carry it together, every man owning the choice and the cost that comes with it.
The clubhouse feels tight as bodies fill the space. Chairs scrape across concrete as men settle in. Leather shifts and creaks. Boots thud into place. When the seats run out, brothers line the walls and doorways, cuts pressed close enough that shoulders brush when someone shifts. The air carries oil, old coffee, sweat, and the stale dust that never quite leaves a working shop. Voices stay low and clipped, the usual pre-meeting noise trimmed down into something restrained and focused.
I slide into my place farther down the table, notebook tucked against my ribs, forearms braced on the scarred wood. My fingers lace together and tighten without me noticing until the pressure starts to bite into my palms. Lucky settles beside me, close and steady, our knees bumping lightly as he shifts into his chair.
“You good?” he murmurs, eyes forward.
“Yeah,” I answer, even though my jaw feels locked. “You?”
He exhales slow through his nose. “Ready.”
Across the room, Cal Mercer and Evan Hale stand among the rest of the brothers. Recently patched. Still carrying that edge of men who haven’t fully settled into who they are inside the cut yet. Cal keeps shifting his weight, boots repositioning like he can’t find solid ground. His eyes drift toward the doors more than once. Evan holds himself stiff, chin lifted a notch too high, jaw tight like he’s bracing for something he already senses coming.
Mason steps into place at the head of the table. The low murmur fades without him needing to raise his voice or lift a hand. The room simply adjusts around him the way it always does.
“We’re here to handle club business,” he says calmly. “Every patched member present. What’s said in this room stays in this room.”
A low ripple of agreement moves through the crowd, a few nods, a couple quiet acknowledgments, nothing more than what’s needed.
Riot wheels the large screen into position near the front wall. The display flares to life, pale light washing across leather cutsand tattooed arms. He stands beside it with his tablet in hand, posture controlled, eyes focused.
“Before the vote,” Mason continues, “Riot’s going to lay out what he found. Everyone sees the same truth.”
Riot nods once and taps the screen.
The display fills with structured data. Timelines stacked cleanly. Financial paths reduced to straight lines and clustered nodes. Names embedded inside organized blocks that look harmless until you understand what they represent.
