But I'll come back.
CHAPTER TEN
Grace
I wake up alone.
The trailer is quiet except for Charlie's soft snoring from her bed on the floor.
I reach across the sheets and they’re cold.
Shadow's been gone for a while.
My ribs ache.
The fresh tattoo underneath the bandage is sore, tender, a constant reminder of yesterday.
Of his name permanently marked on my skin.
Property of Shadow.
I sit up carefully, wincing at the pull of healing skin, and check my phone.
Text from Shadow, sent an hour ago:
Meeting with Damon and the brothers. Stay in the trailer, or walk to the clubhouse. Don't go anywhere else alone. I'll be back soon. Love you.
I text back:
Love you too. Be safe.
Then I just sit there, staring at the message, trying not to think about tonight.
About Flint.
About the meet.
About Shadow riding into a confrontation that could get him killed.
Charlie whines, bumping her cone against my leg, and I reach down to scratch behind her ears.
"You need to go out, girl?"
She wags her tail, and I sigh. Can't put it off forever.
I get dressed carefully—jeans, tank top, avoiding anything that rubs too much against my bandaged ribs.
Shadow's hoodie over it because the Vegas morning is cooler than I expected and boots.
I clip Charlie's leash to her collar, mindful of the cone, and step outside.
The Reapers Rejects compound is already busy despite the early hour.
Brothers are moving around, working on bikes, and talking in low voices.
The tension is palpable.
Everyone knows what's happening tonight.
