“Don’t thank me yet,” I said.“You haven’t heard me snore.”
A weak laugh slipped out of her.The sound pierced the room with warmth, sunlight breaking through a cracked door.
We ate in silence after that.Comfortable enough.My nerves stayed alive, but her breathing steadied.Color returned to her face in small increments.Less ghost, more woman.I slid half my eggs onto her plate without asking.Her gaze flicked up, surprise evident, then she ate those too.“You were hungry,” I said.
“Haven’t had much appetite lately.Food loses appeal when someone watches you all the time.”
The statement hit me as a quiet confession.No drama.No exaggeration.Only truth.Months of her life reduced to survival mode.“You don’t have to watch your back here.”
She gave a tiny shake of her head.“My brain doesn’t know that yet.”
“I know,” I said.“We’ll teach it.”
Her gaze met mine briefly, caught somewhere between hope and doubt.She broke contact first, glancing down at her plate before she spoke again.“How long have you lived here?”
I shrugged.“In this house?Couple years.”
“With the club?”
“A while,” I said.“Long enough to want that patch more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time.”
“Why?”Her question held curiosity, not judgment.
There were stock answers men gave.Brotherhood.Bikes.Freedom.Family.None of those covered the full truth.Not for me.“Because they don’t pretend.Because I know where I stand.World has plenty of men who smile and lie and call themselves respectable while they crush people.These guys don’t hide what they are.They’ve got a code.Not perfect.Real.”
Jade studied me like she weighed the words.“You needed a code.”
“Yeah,” I admitted.“Needed something steady.”
She didn’t push, but her eyes asked anyway.Family.Past.Damage.I could see it.She didn’t pry, which made me want to tell her more.“My old man drank,” I said.“He hit things when he got bored.He hit people when he got angry.My mother learned to disappear inside her own head.Responsibility fell through the cracks.I left as soon as I could.Spent a few years in the military, then drifted, pretending I didn’t care about anything because caring gets you hurt.”
She listened without flinching.No pity.No sympathy with the taste of weakness.
“I ran into a Raptor at a bar,” I said.“Outside, a fight broke out when some asshole cornered a woman behind the dumpster.My body moved before my brain caught up.The bottle shattered against my face.Next thing I remember -- waking up in their clubhouse, bandaged, hot coffee waiting for me.For the first time in years, my gut reactions made sense.”
Her fingers clenched around her glass.“You stepped in to save a woman you’d never met.”
“Not a hero,” I said.
“Seems heroic to me,” she countered softly.
“A man sees wrong and refuses to watch isn’t a hero,” I said.“Just doing the right thing.Big difference.”
A quiet settled again.Jade looked tired in a deeper way now, like food had pulled her body down from adrenaline and now it wanted collapse.Her shoulders sagged.Her gaze softened.The coat still stayed on, but she didn’t clutch it as tight.
“Earlier,” she began, voice cautious, “you said you’d protect me even without the label.”
“Yeah,” I said.No hesitation.
“Why?”Her question came raw.“You barely know me.”
I leaned back and exhaled slowly.“Because you stood as a good woman caught in a bad spot.I didn’t need your entire history to know you deserved better than tonight.At work, I watched how you treated people -- giving them worth, making them matter.When you thanked someone, I could see in your eyes you meant it.Your small actions revealed everything I needed to know.”
Her eyes shone.She blinked fast.“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.“For bringing Roth to your door.For risking your patch.”
“Stop.”My words were sharper than I meant.
She flinched.
