Prologue
SAVANNAH
The ceiling of Austin's bedroom has a crack in it that runs from the light fitting to the far corner. I've stared at it so many times over the past three years that I can trace it from memory with my eyes closed. I noticed it the first night I slept here, when I was fifteen and too nervous to sleep, while Austin was already out cold beside me, with one arm thrown over my waist like he was afraid I'd disappear. Back then the crack made me feel like the room was holding its breath.
Tonight it feels like the whole world is holding its breath.
"I love you, Austin."
He leans down and kisses me as he thrusts a few more times and unloads inside me. I love that feeling of having him inside me, the warmth of it, the intimacy of it, the way it makes me feel like we're the only two people who exist in the particular universe of this room. He rolls off me and we lay looking at the ceiling, both breathing hard, and his hand finds mine between us without him having to look for it. He always knows where I am.
That's what's going to wreck me. Not the distance. Not the different lives. The fact that for four years, this boy has always known exactly where I am.
"I love you too, Savannah." He turns his head to look at me and his eyes are dark and soft and serious in the way they get when he means something more than the words he's saying. We've been together since we were freshmen in high school. Four years of Friday nights and Sunday mornings and everything in between, and I'm about to leave for college. Three weeks. Three weeks and I'll be gone.
I don't want to leave him behind.
But I can't go. Medicine has been the plan since I was eight years old. Since that day I sat in Dr. Foster's surgery and watched him calm down a crying child with nothing more than a steady voice and a sticker. I’d thought, I want to do that. I want to be that person.
Austin knows this. He's always known this.
"Why won't you come with me?" I ask one more time. I know it'll cause an argument. I've asked three times already and each time the answer is the same. The curious part of me can't stop pulling at it, like a loose thread I know I should leave alone.
He closes his eyes briefly. He’s not frustrated with me, just steadying himself. "You know I can't. My uncle Brick has promised me a job as a prospect for the Black Saints MC. You know I've wanted to join them for as long as I can remember."
I do know that. I've always known that, the same way he's always known about medicine for me. It's one of the things I've loved about us, that we've both known exactly who we are and neverasked each other to be something different. Until now, when being exactly who we are means we can't be in the same place.
"I know," I say. "It's important to you."
"As college is important to you."
The symmetry of it is almost cruel.
"What are we going to do, though? Do you think long distance is going to work?" I know in my heart it won't, but the thought of losing him closes my throat. I need to hear him say something that makes it feel survivable.
He shifts onto his side and looks at me properly. "Babe, you need to concentrate on college. I'll be here waiting for you when you come home."
"No, you won't," I say it before I can stop myself, and once it's out I can't pull it back. "As soon as you step foot in that clubhouse, you'll be with all those women and you won't even remember who I am."
I know what goes on in there. I'm not naive. The parties, the sweetbutts who hang around hoping to catch a man's attention, the whole culture of it. Austin has told me enough and I've heard enough from other people to understand what that world is. It scares me more than the distance.
His jaw tightens. "Sav, I’m never going to forget who you are. You're going to be taking a piece of my heart with you. Don't forget that."
I look at him and I want to believe it so badly that the wanting hurts. His eyes are steady and clear and he means every word. I can hear the honesty in his voice and I tell myself it's enough.
"I’ve three weeks left," I say as I roll into his side and press my face against his chest. The world almost feels right again when I feel his arm come around me. "Let's just enjoy our time together."
"I agree." His lips press against the top of my head. "Three weeks of being inside you is my idea of heaven."
I laugh despite everything, because that's Austin. He can make me laugh in the middle of the worst moments, and I hold him tighter and the ceiling crack is up there in the dark above us. The room is holding its breath and I try very hard not to think about what comes after.
Two WeeksLater
Austin invitedme to the clubhouse today. I've been a handful of times before, always briefly, always when it was quiet. When it was just Brick and a couple of the other men around. It didn’t prepare me for what it is like on a regular afternoon.
I park my car outside the compound gates and sit in it for a moment longer than I need to. Through the windscreen I can see the main building, a big converted industrial space with Black Saints painted on the side in letters that have been there long enough to weather and fade at the edges. There are bikes lined up outside in a row so neat it looks deliberate, which I suppose it is. Big bikes. Most of them custom, all of them expensive looking in a way that doesn't match the general scruffiness of everything else.
There are men outside in leather cuts, three of them leaning against the wall by the entrance. They look up when my car pulls in and one of them says something to the others before they go back to their conversation. I get out of the car and one of them nods at me, just barely. I nod back because I don't know what else to do.
