I take the keys. "Thanks, brother."
"Thank me by keeping her alive." He clasps my shoulder. Hard. "And by being ready to fight if this goes wrong. Might need the Reckless I've seen in the pit before this is over."
"I'm always ready."
He knows. We both know.
He leaves with the Savage Riders. The apartment empties as fast as it filled, leaving just me and Nora in the wreckage. She's staring at the blood on the floor. "You hurt three men in under a minute."
"Had to."
"You didn't even hesitate."
"No."
"You're—" She looks at me. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."
"Good thing or bad thing?"
"I don't know yet." She wraps her arms around herself. "But I'm alive because of it. So, thank you. Again."
I cross the distance between us. Stop a foot away. Close enough to matter.
"Stop thanking me." My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. "And grab your things. We're leaving."
"Where are we going?"
"The Iron Pit." I look at the broken door. The blood. "Only safe place left."
She doesn't argue.
Smart girl.
We're going to need smart to survive what's coming.
Chapter 6 - Nora
What the fuck just happened in the past twenty-four hours?
The question loops through my mind on repeat as I sit in the passenger seat of Rampage's truck, watching Blackwater Falls blur past the window. Street lights paint everything in streaks of gold and shadow. Empty roads. Closed storefronts. A town that's asleep while my entire world has been turned inside out.
Is this real?
It has to be real. The two duffel bags at my feet with everything I own are real. The ache in my jaw from clenching it so hard is real. The way my hands won't stop shaking, that's definitely real.
But the rest of it?
Twenty-four hours ago, I was hiding in my apartment, eating canned soup, convinced I could disappear if I just stayed quiet enough. Invisible enough. Small enough.
Now I'm running from Castellano's armed men with a motorcycle club as backup and a man who fights in illegal underground matches as my—what? Protector? Guardian? I don't even know what to call Marcus.
I glance at him.
He's driving with the same calm focus he does everything else. Hands steady on the wheel. Eyes scanning the road, the mirrors, every shadow we pass. Looking for threats. Always looking.
The man took down three armed men with a baseball bat.
I watched it happen. Watched him move like violence was a language he spoke fluently. No hesitation. No fear. Just action. Pure, devastating action.
