“Safety. Security. The full protection of the Ruthless Devils.” He pauses. “And when this is over, when Savage Legion is eliminated, I’ll buy you your own tattoo shop. Set you up however you want.”
The offer catches me off guard. “My apprenticeship?—”
“You can continue it. I’m not trying to cage you, Bonnie. I’m trying to keep you alive.”
I look down at our joined hands. His grip is gentle but firm, like he’s afraid I’ll bolt if he lets go.
This is not how I imagined my life going. Not how I pictured the man I’ve wanted for years finally proposing. But it’s better than marrying Marcus. Better than running forever.
And maybe—just maybe—strategic can become something more.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?”
“I’ll marry you.” I look up and meet his eyes. “But I have conditions.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Of course you do.”
“I keep my apprenticeship. I get to be involved in club decisions that affect me. And when you buy me that shop, it’s in my name. Not yours, not the club’s. Mine.”
“Deal.” He pulls me closer, careful of my injuries. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.” I reach up and touch his face. “Try to fall in love with me eventually. I’d prefer if this wasn’t just a business arrangement forever.”
His hand comes up to cover mine.
“Bonnie,” he says softly. “Falling for you was never the problem. Admitting it is the hard part.”
11
GHOST
Ihaven’t slept.
Three AM rolls into four, then five, then the sun starts bleeding light across the eastern sky, and I’m still sitting at this window watching the compound gates.
Old habits. The kind that kept me alive in Afghanistan and won’t let me rest now that I’m home.
Except I never really came home. Just traded one war zone for another.
My rifle sits across my lap, cleaned and loaded. The brothers on gate duty change shifts at six. Danny takes over from Rodriguez, exchanges a few words, and scans the perimeter. Good. He’s alert.
Behind me, the clubhouse sleeps. Most of the brothers crashed hours ago after pulling double shifts fortifying our defenses. Ash is probably in his office, going over supply routes. Titan’s in his room, hopefully actually sleeping for once.
And Bonnie’s upstairs in her bed, healing from injuries she got running from a wedding that never should have happened.
The timeline won’t stop running through my head.
Iron gets arrested in Phoenix on a Tuesday morning. Federal agents, warrants, and solid evidence. Someone fed them detailed information about club operations—the kind of intel that takes months to gather and verify.
That same Tuesday, Bonnie’s supposed to marry Marcus Stone. Ceremony scheduled for noon.
She gets Jackal’s text at eleven forty-five. Runs. Escapes.
The timing is too tight. Too convenient.
In my line of work—my old line of work—we had a saying:coincidences get you killed. When two major events happen simultaneously, there’s usually a connection. Someone may be pulling the strings. A person who benefits from the chaos.
