“Careful,” she said. “It’s hot.”
I took it anyway, letting the steam warm my hands. “Thanks.”
She sat beside me, her braid sliding over one shoulder. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one people get right before they either run or burn the whole place down.”
A laugh caught in my throat. “Haven’t decided which yet.”
Maria’s eyes crinkled. “Then you’re still fighting. That’s good.” She sipped her coffee. “Caleb used to sit out here when it got too loud inside. Said the quiet helped him think straight.”
The lump in my throat returned. “I didn’t know that.”
“Not many did.” She glanced towards the door. “Don’t let them make you feel like you don’t belong, Lucy. The ones who matter will see you for who you are. And the ones who don’t... Well, they’ll just have to live with it.”
We sat in silence for a while, sipping coffee, the cool air settling around us. Inside, music thumped, but out there, it was just us.
I wandered back towards the bar, where someone had left a bottle of whiskey on the counter. I poured two fingers, hands shaking slightly, then added more. Three. Four. Close enough.
“Hey, I’m Finn.”
I turned and found a prospect with pale green eyes. Dirty blonde hair he kept neat, though longer in front, swept over his forehead, and stubble trimmed close. He wasn’t hardened yet, not the way the others were, but there was grit under thesoftness, a kind of stubborn toughness in his eyes that made me think he’d take a beating just to prove he could stand back up. His kutte still read ‘pup’ like the kid at the garage.
I held up the glass. “Lucy.” Then downed the drink.
“You alright?”
I could’ve lied and said yes, but I didn’t.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m still standing.”
He gave a small nod and took a sip from the bottle. No questions. No sympathy.
That was the thing about the club. The Dead Knights weren’t built on comfort or softness. They were built on action and loyalty. Surviving shit most people couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t warm, but it was real. I was in it, whether I wanted to be or not.
I moved to the corner couch, flash drive heavy in my hand like lead. I’d memorized everything, dates, faces, transactions, names I didn’t want to know. Men in suits shaking hands with killers. Local cops bought off.
It was bigger than the Fangs. Bigger than the club. But for the time being, the war was personal.
I pulled my knees up, letting the whiskey burn on the way down and warm me up. My nerves crawled under my skin, every sound outside making me flinch. Not from fear of the Dead Knights, some still hated me, but knowing Gage was out there, and he knew exactly what I had.
“He won’t go far.” Jay had said that. But the question wasn’t how far he’d go, it was who he’d take down on his way out.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I didn’t answer. A second buzz then a message.
Unknown: You should've stayed gone.
Gage.
I stared at the message until the screen went black, my reflection glaring back at me.
Show Jay. That was the smart move. He’d lock down the clubhouse, call the rest of the brothers, hunt Gage harder than ever.
But then what? He’d cage me. Protect me until I couldn’t breathe. Worse, if the others found out I was his weak spot, they’d start looking at him differently. Questioning his judgment. Questioning me. Again.
I shoved the phone deeper into my pocket like burying it could hide my secret.
