Nitro didn’t flinch. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t nothing. You knew the guy, right?”
She nodded. “It’s not my name anymore,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. “But it used to be. Before I learned that names can be cages.” She stood and paced, the words burning their way up after years of being buried. She had never told anyone her story, and saying it out loud made it feel all too real.
“I grew up owned,” she said. “Not officially. Not on paper. But I belonged to men who liked to collect pretty things and break them down until they stopped trying to leave.” Her voice shook once and then steadied. “They taught me how to smile. How to obey, and how to disappear when it suited them.” Nitro’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I got out,” she continued. “I changed my name and learned how to stay one step ahead of them. I didn’t steal from them. I don’t deal drugs or use. And I didn’t touch their money.” She laughed bitterly. “But none of that matters. To them, I’m still theirs. I’m their property, and they want me back.”
She stopped pacing and faced both of the bikers, noting the pity staring back at her in their eyes. “Those men tonight,” Nitro said, “they weren’t the worst of it, were they?”
Silence fell heavy and absolute as she nodded her answer. “There will be more of them,” she admitted. “They’ll keep coming until I agree to go back with them, but I will never do that. I’ll die before I let them put me back into that cage.”
Nitro pushed off the corner of the desk slowly. “Are you telling me that you’re in danger?” he asked carefully.
Aurora met his eyes, fear and defiance warring in her chest. “Yes.” For a long moment, she thought this would be where he would walk away. It would be where he decided she was too much. Too broken, and too dangerous to keep close.
Instead, he said, “Then you stay with me, and we’ll find a safe place to lay low for a bit.”
Her breath caught. “Nitro?—”
“Can you find us a place, Torque?” Nitro asked.
“Absolutely,” Torque agreed. “It’s going to take you a while to get to the place, but it’s off-grid, and you’ll be safe there,” he said, more to Aurora than to Nitro. She wanted to protest and to tell them both that this was too dangerous, but the relief that she felt wouldn’t allow her to say those words aloud.
“The house will be well protected,” Torque continued. “It belongs to the club, and if those assholes think about coming after you there, we’ll know about it.” His voice dropped. “They’re gonna learn real fast that the Iron Vipers don’t back down from a threat. And if they step foot on our property, we’ll consider it a threat.” Aurora’s knees nearly gave out. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed someone to be on her side.
“I don’t want to drag you or your club into this,” she whispered.
Nitro stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his heat. “Too late,” he whispered. “I’m already a part of it. Those fuckers attacked me tonight, too.”
“I’ll get you guys' keys and directions. You both should head out to the kitchen and grab some provisions for the road. You’lltake my truck since they’ve probably made your vehicle.” He tossed Nitro his truck keys and turned to leave the office. They followed him into the hallway and back to the bar.
“Thank you,” Aurora breathed. “Don’t thank me yet,” Torque said. “You have a lot of distance to put between you and the assholes who are coming for you, but you’re in good hands with Nitro.” For the first time in a very long time, Aurora Ryder let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, her luck was finally changing.
The safe housewasn’t what she expected. It was just a nondescript house tucked behind a row of trees, lights low, its presence quiet—like it knew how to keep secrets. Nitro cut the engine and scanned the street before getting out of the pickup truck. His movements seemed efficient and almost practiced. This wasn’t his first time taking someone off grid, and that thought twisted something sharp in her chest. He was capable, and she wondered just how capable he was.
Inside, the house was sparse but seemed lived-in. There was a couch that sat in front of a stone fireplace, and a small kitchen sat off to the back of the house. Weapons were locked away, but not far out of reach. It was the kind of place that was meant for waiting out storms, not starting new lives.
Aurora wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exhausted down to the bone. “You’re safe here,” Nitro said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the sofa. His arms had been cut up in the fight, and she started to fuss over him. He just waved her off, telling her that his cuts were nothing, but she could tell that they weren’t.
“You shouldn’t have told me about them when we were back at the bar,” she started. “I could have patched you up.”
“Yes,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “I should have, but we were running out of time. We needed to get out of town, and your cut was much deeper than mine. How about we get settled, and then I’ll take a shower and assess if I need you to nurse me back to health,” he teased, bobbing his eyebrows at her. She giggled despite herself and the feelings of despair that were crowding her mind.
She sank onto the edge of the couch, fingers knotting in her lap as she stared at the floor. The quiet pressed in, louder than the chaos had been. Safe places always did that to her. They gave her too much room to remember how wrong things could turn out.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. It was a lie, but he seemed okay with letting that one slide. That worked for her because there was no way that she wanted to get into the doom and gloom that was playing through her head right now. That could all wait until tomorrow, when she’d have to figure out her next move. right now, she planned on taking a hot shower and crawling into bed, because Aurora felt as though she might just be able to sleep for days. And for the first time, in a long time, she felt safe enough to actually close her eyes.
NITRO
Nitro had sleptin worse places than the Iron Vipers’ safe house. Hell, this place was nice compared to some of the shitholes that he had lived in while on missions for the government. There were too many war zones, cargo planes, and concrete floors that smelled like oil and blood to count. A single bed in a quiet house shouldn’t have rattled him the way it did—but Aurora standing at the foot of it, arms folded over her chest like she was bracing for impact, made the space feel a hell of a lot smaller.
“One bed,” she said softly, pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Sorry about that. But all the other safe houses were booked for the night,” he teased.
She shook her head at him. “So, we’re supposed to sleep in the same bed?” she asked.
