“Hold on tight,” I tell her, and she does.
I start the engine, and the bike roars to life beneath us. Her grip tightens, her hands fist on my T-shirt under my cut, and I can’t help but fucking grin.
I ease back on the accelerator, pulling away from the curb, and I keep it slow and steady until she relaxes against me. We cruise through the city, past the neon and the crowds, and I take us onto the highway heading toward Red Rock Canyon.
The desert opens up around us, all that vast, empty space under a sky so black it’s like a dark void. The stars glisten through the smattering of clouds, the wind keeping us cool, and Marley’s arms never loosen from around my waist. If anything, she holds tighter, as if she’s afraid of letting go.
Or maybe she doesn’t want to.
I take us to a scenic overlook I know—a spot where you can see for miles, where the city is just a shimmer of neon lights in the distance, and the desert stretches out like something eternal. When I kill the engine, the silence that follows is broken only by the wind and the sound of our breathing.
Marley unwraps herself from me slowly, as though she’s not quite ready to let go. I help her off the bike, and she removes her helmet, her hair wild and windblown, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright.
She looks fucking radiant.
Even in the glow of the moonlight.
“That was…” she trails off, spinning in a slow circle to take in the view. “I don’t even have words for that.”
“Good?” I lean against the bike, drinking in the sight of her.
“Incredible.” She turns back to me, and there’s something in her expression that makes my pulse kick up. “I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’veneverseen Vegas like that. Never felt…” She gestures vaguely. “Free like that.”
I understand exactly what she means. The open road has always been my therapy, my escape, the nitroglycerin pulsing through my veins. My way of processing everything this world throws at me. Sharing it with her feels like giving her a piece of my soul.
“The club,” she says softly, stepping a little closer. “Tell me about it. I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything you shouldn’t, but I want to understand this part of you.”
I scratch at my jaw, buying a second. “What do you wanna know?”
“Everything,” she says, smiling as if it’s the easiest request in the world. “Or… whatever you can tell me.”
I huff out a breath, half a laugh. “That’s a dangerous question to ask an MC guy.”
“Then start with the safe parts.”
So I do. “It’s a brotherhood,” I say. “First and last. Loyalty, trust… keeping each other standing even when the rest of the world tries to knock us down.”
She nods, her eyes softening. “Sounds… intriguing. But good.”
“It is.” I lean back against my bike, my arms crossed. “Sin… he’s my president. The kinda man you follow without question. If he told me we were riding straight into hell, I’d ask what gear he wanted me in. And when we were leaving.”
Her eyes warm. “He means that much to you?”
“He’s my best friend. My brother.” The words feel inadequate. “When you go through real shit together, life and death shit, it bonds you. Sin’s been there for every major moment since I joined. He’s the one who put my VP patch on my cut. He knows me better than anyone… except Queenie.”
“What does being VP mean exactly?”
“I’m his right-hand man. Run day-to-day operations and make sure the brothers are taken care of. But more than that, I’m expected to challenge him when I think he’s wrong. To point out risks. To have his back even when I disagree with him.” I meet her eyes. “He depends on me more than he probably realizes, and I’d follow him into war without a second thought.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, processing. “It sounds intense.”
“It is. But it’s real. No bullshit, no pretending to be something you’re not. Just brothers who’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what.” I trace circles on her hip with my thumb. “We protect what’s ours. We stand together. And we don’t abandon each other.”
“Have you ever…” She hesitates. “Have you ever had to do things for the club that scared you?”
“Being in the club means accepting risk. Means knowing that every decision could be the wrong one and trusting your brothers to have your back anyway.” I choose my words carefully. “There are things I can’t tell you, things that keep everyone safe. But the core of it? That loyalty, that brotherhood?That’swhat matters to us.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Thank you for telling me. I know you can’t tell me everything, but… thank you for trusting me with this much.”
