I grip the handlebars and glance back once, just enough to meet her eyes.
“My name’s Denzel,” I say. “They call me Blade.”
Her lips part slightly.
“Blade,” she repeats, like the word tastes dangerous.
“I’m Tail Gunner,” I add, because she needs to know what I am. “Damned Saints.”
She nods, swallowing again, eyes flicking down to the patch on my cut now hanging off her shoulders.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I start the engine.
The rumble vibrates through both of us, and she clings tighter.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Somewhere safe,” I tell her.
We pull away from the club, neon shrinking behind us, the night swallowing everything except the road and the cold and the warmth of her pressed to me.
I don’t ask questions yet.
I don’t talk about what happened.
Right now, she needs one thing.
Distance.
Safety.
And the truth I’ve been holding back for months, years, since Derek made me promise and Violet became more than a name.
I watched her.
And tonight, I’m done watching from afar.
Tonight, I take her home.
The cabin is waiting.
So am I.
Chapter 3
Violet
Therideshouldscareme.
It doesn’t.
The world blurs into streaks of black and silver, cold air biting everywhere it can reach. The engine vibrates deep and steady, the sound traveling up my spine and settling low in my stomach.
My arms are wrapped around him.
At first, I was careful. Afraid to press too close. Afraid he would notice how much of me was shaking.
