"How did you finally see it?"
"The Chen investigation." Tyler shifted slightly,and I felt the tension running through him. "We were supposed to be taking down a trafficking network, but the case kept stalling. Witnesses disappeared. Evidence went missing. Every time we got close to something real, some bureaucratic obstacle would appear out of nowhere. I started to suspect that someone inside the Bureau was protecting Chen."
"And it was Cross."
"It was Cross. He was taking money from the network—not just Chen, but the whole operation. The same people who killed your brother were paying my partner to look the other way while they moved drugs and people across state lines." Tyler's voice hardened. "When I figured it out, when I finally put the pieces together, he tried to convince me I was wrong. Gaslighted me for months. Told me I was paranoid, that the stress was getting to me, that I needed to take a break and get my head straight."
"But you didn't believe him."
"I wanted to." The admission seemed to cost him something. "That's the worst part. Even after everything he'd done, part of me wanted to believe that I was wrong. That the man I'd loved for three years wasn't actually a monster." Tyler turned to look at me, something raw in his expression. "Sarah was the one who helped me see the truth. She looked at the evidence I'd gathered and told me she believed me. She was the only one."
The weight of that hit me differently now, after everything we'd gone through to rescue Sarah. She hadn't just believed Tyler—she'd risked everything on that belief. And Cross had tried to kill her for it.
"Is that why you took the Chen case?" I asked. "To get away from him?"
"Partly. Sarah arranged for me to transfer to the Chen case officially, to get me out of Cross's direct orbit. But I was also looking for something else." Tyler's thumb traced absent circles on the back of my hand. "I'd spent three years with someone who made me feel small. Who made me doubt everything about myself, including whether I deserved to be happy. I needed to find out who I was without him telling me."
"And who are you?"
The question hung in the air between us. Tyler was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching my face.
"I'm still figuring that out." His voice was soft. "But I know I'm someone who wants this. Whatever this is between us. I know I'm someone who's tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of letting fear make my decisions." He reached up, his fingers brushing my jaw. "I know I'm someone who looks at you and feels something I haven't felt in years."
"What's that?"
"Safe." The word was barely a whisper. "Which is ridiculous, given that you're a biker enforcer who could probably kill me with your bare hands. But when I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to be anyone other than who I am. And that's... that's more than I ever had with Marcus. Even at the beginning."
I leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against my skin. The garage had gone golden around us, late afternoon light slanting through thewindows and catching the dust motes that hung suspended in the air. Everything felt suspended—the two of us frozen in this moment, balanced on the edge of something neither of us could take back.
"I'm not going to hurt you." The words came out rougher than I intended, but I meant every syllable.
"I know." Tyler's smile was small but real. "That's what makes it terrifying."
I kissed him.
Not hard, not desperate—just a press of lips, a question and an answer. He responded immediately, his hand sliding from my jaw to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His mouth was warm, soft, tasting faintly of the coffee he must have grabbed before coming to find me. The kiss deepened slowly, both of us taking our time, learning the shape of each other.
His other hand found my chest, fingers spreading over my heart like he was checking to make sure it was still beating. I could feel my pulse hammering against his palm, betraying how much this affected me despite my attempts to stay steady. My own hands had moved without conscious thought—one cupping the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, the other gripping his hip hard enough to leave bruises.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing harder than the kiss warranted. Tyler's eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, and I could feel the evidence of his response pressed against my thigh where he'd shifted closer.
"We should probably talk about what this means." Tyler's forehead rested against mine, hisbreath warm against my lips. "Set expectations. Be mature and responsible."
"Probably."
Neither of us moved to do any of those things.
"I don't do casual." Tyler's voice dropped, serious beneath the surface warmth. "I need you to know that. If this is something, it has to be real. I can't survive another person treating me like I'm disposable."
"You're not disposable." The fierceness in my own voice surprised me. "And this isn't casual. I don't know what it is yet, but I know what it isn't."
Relief flickered across his face, mixed with something that looked like hope.
"Okay." He kissed me again, brief and firm. "Then we figure it out as we go."
"Together."
The word had become a promise between us. A commitment that meant more than either of us was quite ready to say out loud.
