Beau twists the top off a beer and hands it to me before grabbing one for himself. He takes a long drink and then leans back in his chair. “Okay, fine,” he says dramatically. “It’s not exactly about the cops, but yeah, they were a part of it.”
Jackson speaks up finally, his voice quieter than usual. “We are about to let you in on a part of our lives that we agreed never to talk about again. We need you to know that we love you enough to tell you about this. At the sametime, we will let you make your own decision after hearing what we have to say. If you want to leave and never talk to us again, we’ll understand. It would hurt like hell, but honestly, we just want you happy. If you want to go to the police and turn us in, well…okay, that's your choice. We won’t stop you. But if you decide to stay with us after we tell you this, you’re welcome to. And we’ll be glad if you do. But you need to understand something: if you decide to stay, you can never tell a soul about what we’re about to tell you. That’s the deal. No exceptions.”
My pulse thuds in my ears, and my heart is hammering as I sit here trying to process his words. This isn’t some lighthearted chat. They’re serious…dead serious…and I’m terrified of what comes next.
“Just tell me, please. I’m not going anywhere.” I say, my voice shaky as I try to keep my cool. All I want is to understand, but it feels like something big is coming.
Jackson’s expression softens, but there’s a weight to it. He looks almost sad, like he hears what I am saying but he doesn’t believe I will stay longer than tonight. “It wasn’t safe for us there,” he says, finally giving me an answer. “You were right. The cops weren’t there for us. But that doesn’t mean we are clear of trouble.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to piece everything together. “What kind of trouble?’
Beau taps his finger on the table, looking around as if to make sure no one else is listening. “We’re not from Salem,” he begins, his voice heavy with the truth. “Originally, we’re from Florida. A little over a year ago, we got into some serious shit. We were part of a motorcycle club down there, a pretty dangerous one. And we weren’t exactly playing chess with the locals.”
Jackson looks over to the bar for a moment, his jaw set as he picks up where Beau left off. “There was another club, a rival club, in a town not far from ours. Dangerous guys. And, well, we all had our enemies. People who didn’t hate just the club we were in but also individuals. One night, Beau's sister…she was going through a divorce. So, we went to check on her. Make sure she was okay. But when we got there, we found a guy from the other club in her house. He was trying to, uh, rape and kill her.” He looks at Beau, who meets his gaze and nods grimly.
“We did what we had to do,” Beau continues. “We killed him with our bare hands. Brought his body back to their clubhouse,” he says, shaking his head, as if he can't believe he finally said it out loud. “Let’s just say we made sure they knew what we were capable of. But it didn’t end there. Someone identified us with the body. We got arrested and charged with murder. Things went sideways fast.”
I sit back, a strange feeling low in my stomach. Their words seem to be…a turn on? I think? This wasn’t just some petty crime or misunderstanding. They were involved in something violent, something real. But yet my body still reacts like normal to them…
“Long story short,” Jackson says, his voice colder now, “while we were being transferred to a high-security prison, we had a few friends from our club help us. They ran the bus off the road and helped us escape. We got new IDs, fake names, and bus tickets to Massachusetts. We’ve been on the run ever since.”
Beau leans forward slightly, his face tight as he adds, “The night we met you and went to the graveyard…I joked about it, but I meant it when I said we were on the run. And the thing is, there’s still an all points bulletin out for us. We can’t afford to get caught. Not now, after being gone for so long."
These men…my men…Jackson and Beau… are criminals in the truest sense of the word. They killed someone. They’re running from the law.
And yet, despite everything. I don’t feel fear. I’m not sure if that makes me crazy, or if it means something more. They aren’t bad people, they saved his sister.
“Is that why you didn’t want to go into the restaurant?” I finally ask, my voice steady. “Because of the cops?”
Beau nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Exactly. Cops, or anyone else who might recognize us. We don’t take chances with that kind of shit. And we sure as hell weren’t about to let them catch us while we were out with you. That’s why in the beginning we told you one night. We didn’t want you to get wrapped up in this… but we couldn’t stay away.”
Jackson’s eyes soften a little as he reaches out, touching my hand. “It wasn’t to scare you, sweetheart. We just wanted to protect you and ourselves. The last thing we want is for you to get caught up in our mess.”
They’re not perfect, and their past is anything but clean, but I can’t bring myself to walk away.
“So what now?” I ask, my voice calm. “What comes next?”
Beau leans back in his chair with a sigh. His eyes lock on mine, and I can see the worry there. “What happens next, baby, is up to you.”
I look both of them in the eyes and with a wicked smile I say, “Next, I want you to get me home. No mercy. No hesitation. Show me what it means to be claimed by criminals… dangerous ones. The kind that makes me forget every rule I've ever followed. I can honestly say I have never been as turned on in my life as I am from hearing you both tell me your story.”
A charged silence crackles between us, the kind that makes my pulse trip and my breath hitch. Beau moves first, slow and deliberate, his fingers sliding up my throat until his thumb hooks beneath my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Dangerous?” He murmurs, voice a sinful rasp that slides straight through me. “Careful what you beg for, baby. We won't stop once we start.” Jackson’s laugh comes out as a low rumble. “You want to be claimed by criminals? Then tonight, you won't walk away untouched. Not in body. Not in soul.”
The air hums with dark intent as they close in on me, and every instinct I’ve ever trusted goes deliciously quiet. This isn’t just lust. It’s a warning wrapped in a promise. A storm I’m stepping into willingly. And as their shadows swallow mine, as hands I know too well guide me deeper into the dark I asked for, one thought burns hotter than the rest: after tonight, nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter 2
Aria
I'm shoved through the front door, Beau's mouth crashing into mine as we stumble inside. I can barely catch my breath, my mind still reeling from everything they told me. We almost didn't make it out of the bar before Beau’s hands were all over me. His mouth claiming mine like he owned me, which truthfully he does.
As we crash into the living room, I feel Jackson’s eyes on me. His stare burns with a desire that’s almost palpable.
As we move, Jackson comes up behind me, his hands roaming over my skin along with Beau’s, like they’re trying to rebrand me, but this time, with their fingers. A shiver runs down my spine as they guide me toward our bed, both sets of hands tracing the curves of my body as if they’ve memorized every inch of me.
Beau’s hands grip my hips, pulling me against him, while Jackson’s fingers find the zipper of my dress and begin dragging it down, loosening the fabric with slow intent.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Aria,” Jackson growls, his voice low and gravelly. “Driving home while Beau got to touch you and I couldn’t... it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
