Blade meets her gaze, all seriousness and steel. “I will.”
He shifts my duffel over his shoulder, then points a finger gently but firmly toward her.
“If anything weird happens here,” he says, voice low, “you call me. Right away.”
Ansley blinks, clearly shaken by the weight behind his words. “I… yeah. I can do that.”
“Good.” He nods once. Final. Commanding.
My chest tightens with equal parts fear and safety because the man radiates protection like a superpower.
I step closer, ready to leave, ready to be anywhere he is. Blade reaches out and rests his hand on my lower back, guiding me like I’m the most important thing in the hallway.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs.
I give Ansley one last look. She gives me a tiny encouraging smile and a dramatic thumbs up because she refuses to let fear steal her flair.
I breathe out the tension locked in my chest and step over the threshold with Blade beside me. The door clicks shut behind us. Whatever waits outside, I know one thing for sure. Blade is ready to destroy anything that dares get in our way.
SEVENTEEN
BLADE
I look downat Bri and something fierce and unholy snarls through my chest. She tries to play calm and pretend she is not scared, but I see every tiny tremor. She worries about people. She worries about us. She worries about things she never should have to think about. All because of this town and the assholes trying to poison it.
I steady her by habit and instinct, my palm firm on her lower back as I guide her out. It steadies me too, because having her close is the only thing keeping me from driving back to that warehouse and burning it to ash right now.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, voice low and sure.
She leans into my hand like her body was built for that exact spot. Hell. Maybe it was. Maybe she was always meant to be right here with me.
The night air hits us as we step outside, cold enough to cut into exposed skin. I take point automatically, eyes scanning the parking lot and the dark beyond it like threats might crawl out of the shadows any second. Bri keeps up, steps quick to matchmine, her fingers brushing my cut like she wants to hold on but doesn’t want to seem scared. I notice anyway, and my blood heats with that protective instinct that never shuts off.
My bike waits where I left it, black and solid and familiar. Tail Gunner in life too, I guess. Last out. Last line of defense. Tonight, Bri is the only one I’m protecting.
“You ride with me,” I tell her. The order comes out rougher than I intend, but she doesn’t question it. She nods and hands me her helmet without a single word. She knows the drill. That right there… that trust… it guts me in the best way.
She climbs on behind me, arms wrapping around my waist like she is holding on to the one solid thing in her spinning world. Her chest presses into my back, and I feel the tiny shake in her hands. That shake pours gasoline on the fire inside me. I want to find the bastard responsible for putting fear in her veins and make him choke on his own teeth.
I fire up the engine. The roar isn’t loud enough to match what’s inside my chest, but it will have to do. The vibration runs through both of us, grounding us together.
Nobody touches her. Not while I’m breathing.
If these assholes want a war, they’re about to learn what a Tail Gunner does. I protect what’s mine. And Bri? She’s mine. Forever if I have anything to say about it.
We roll out into the night and every streetlight feels like a potential threat. Traffic is thin. Flickering lamps cast long shadows that look like trouble waiting for the right moment to strike. I keep one hand on the throttle and the other near the piece in my jacket because I refuse to be caught off guard with her on the back of my bike.
We pass the bar district. People laugh. Stumble. Live like nothing bad happens in a place like this. Lucky them. They have no idea that three blocks over, the ground is shifting and soon enough they’ll feel the quake.
Bri’s fingers tighten around my vest whenever we pass a pocket of darkness. I reach down, brush my fingers over hers for a heartbeat. My way of saying I’m here. I feel you. I got you. Her grip eases just a little, but she doesn’t let go.
My house sits a couple miles out, tucked behind rusted warehouses and backed up to trees. It’s nothing flashy. Brick walls, metal roof, garage filled with tools and parts that keep my hands busy when my mind tries to drown me. It’s always been a fortress of solitude, a bunker for the broken.
Tonight, it becomes her sanctuary.
I pull into the driveway and cut the engine. The silence that hits after the throttle dies so loud it rings. Bri slides off first, her legs wobbly like the fear she has been holding down is finally catching up to her.
I hop off, swing her bag over my shoulder like it weighs nothing. “Inside,” I say quietly. No bark. Just truth. “We’ll talk once we are locked in.”
