“Sit,” she ordered, eyes flashing.
I raised a brow but dropped onto the barstool anyway. She pressed the rag to my split knuckles, her touch gentle even when the sting made me hiss.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” I said, watching her, not the blood, “but I’m your idiot.”
For a second, her hand faltered and a small smile tugged at her lips. I knew I’d landed the hit better than any punch I threw that night.
I leaned against the worn wood of the bar, the weight of the day finally pressing down on me. My body ached, my bruises screamed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Lucy moved through the room like she belonged there, checking wounds with a touch that was soft but sure. Sharp eyes, steady hands. She scolded Keno for trying to wave her off then made him sit down anyway. Even Riot let her dab at a cut near his temple, not saying a word, which told me more than a speech ever could.
She wasn’t just tolerated. She was becoming the heart of the room, the pulse that kept it from bleeding out, and I hadn’t seen it coming until it was too late.
Watching her, I felt something fierce and fragile twist inside me. How the hell did she become the centre of the club? And how the hell did I let myself fall that hard?
The war with the Fangs was over. The Dead Knights could finally breathe, think about rebuilding, maybe even go legit someday. Even with the future stretching ahead, one shadow remained.
Lucy.
Would she walk away now and go back to a life without this chaos and without me? Or would she choose my world, choose us, and damn the consequences?
I shook off the doubt, forcing myself to focus on what was real at that moment. She was here. She belonged here. I just had to hold on tight and make sure she didn’t slip away.
Her eyes caught mine from across the room, and there was a flicker of something unspoken. A promise, or maybe a question. I lifted my glass towards her in a silent toast.
To new beginnings.
To fighting for what mattered.
To us.
As she returned my look with that small, knowing smile, I let myself believe that was the start of something worth holding on to.
Chapter 54
Lucy
Iwatched Jay propped up on the bar, every bruise showing the battle he’d survived. The brothers clustered around, laughing, groaning, all alive, all loud. Typical Dead Knights, noisy even in their pain.
“Hey, tough guy,” I called, weaving through the press of bodies and leather.
He tilted his head, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”
“Let’s go to bed.” My words were loud enough for the whole club to hear.
The room erupted in whistles, catcalls, and boots pounding the floor. “Get her, Pres!”
“Claim what’s yours, brother!” Riot slapped the bar and nearly doubled over laughing while Maria hooted louder than all of them.
Jay’s grin widened, a fire lighting behind his eyes. He glanced at the guys then back at me, and I could see the weight of the day, the fight, the blood as it all slipped off his shoulders.
“You’re in trouble,” he said softly, voice rough like gravel and honey.
“You’re in trouble if you don’t come to bed,” I shot back, smirking.
He stood slowly, deliberate, every bruised muscle moving like iron. Then his hand found mine, his fingers curling around mine like a promise.
