Shiver grins. "Good. Now you're official. Ol’ lady, claimed and marked."
"Feels official," Grace says, touching the bandage gently.
We ride back to the compound—Grace in the passenger seat.
And for just a few minutes, everything feels normal.
Like we're just another couple.
Just another ol’ lady and her man. Just another MC family.
Then we pull up to the trailer, and reality crashes back in.
Back at the trailer, Grace is carefully changing into a clean shirt, mindful of the fresh bandage on her ribs.
I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, also careful of my bandaged ribs, when her phone rings.
We both freeze.
Unknown number.
The world stops.
Grace picks up the phone with shaking hands, looks at me.
"Should I answer it?" she asks, her voice small.
My jaw tightens. Every instinct I have is screaming danger. "Put it on speaker."
She answers. "Hello?"
A man's voice, cold and amused: "Hello, Grace."
All the blood drains from her face. She knows that voice. We both do.
Flint.
"How'd you get this number?" Grace manages.
"I have my ways. How's Vegas treating you? That trailer comfortable? Reapers Rejects taking good care of you?"
Rage floods through me, hot and violent.
He knows where we are.
Knows what we're staying in. Has been watching us.
"What do you want?" Grace asks, and I can hear her voice shaking.
"What I've always wanted, sweetheart. You." Flint's voice drops, intimate and cruel. "You think marrying Shadow changes anything? You think a piece of paper makes you his?"
"I am his," Grace says, and her voice is stronger now. "I've got his name tattooed on my ribs to prove it."
Flint laughs, low and mocking. "A tattoo? How cute. But it doesn't change the debt. Four million dollars bought you for my family. You can mark yourself however you want—you still belong to us."
I can see Grace's hand trembling, see the way her breath is coming faster. Panic setting in.
I take the phone from her before she can respond.
