* * *
Xavier
I can’t sleep.Despite the comfort of Zach’s arms around me, despite the exhaustion weighing on my body, my mind refuses to quiet.The events of the past week swirl in an endless loop: the hospital shooting, Alex’s lies, my firing and vindication, and now this new threat lurking just beyond the clubhouse walls.
Carefully, I extract myself from Zach’s embrace, smiling slightly when he mumbles in his sleep but doesn’t wake.The enforcer may be hypervigilant when on duty, but in sleep, his trust in the security of his own room allows him to rest deeply.
I pad to the window, peeking through the blinds at the clubhouse grounds below.The predawn light casts everything in shades of gray, security lights creating pools of harsh brightness against the shadows.Prospects patrol the perimeter, alert despite the early hour, weapons visible on their hips.
A fortress, as Zach called it.But even fortresses can fall with the right strategy.
I shake the thought away, unsettled by my own fatalism.This isn’t like me, I’m usually the optimist, the one who believes problems have solutions if you just work hard enough.But the past week has shaken that certainty, replaced it with a wariness I’m still learning to navigate.
Movement at the edge of the property catches my eye.A flash of something near the tree line, there and gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.I lean closer to the glass, squinting into the darkness.
There it is again, a shadow moving where no shadow should be, detaching from the trees and sliding toward the back of the property, away from the patrolling prospects.
My heart rate kicks up, pounding in my ears as I watch another shadow join the first, then a third.This isn’t my imagination.Someone is approaching the clubhouse from the blind side, using the trees as cover.
I turn, rushing back to the bed.“Zach,” I whisper urgently, shaking his shoulder.“Zach, wake up.”
He comes awake instantly, years of training overriding the pull of sleep.His hand reaches for the weapon on the nightstand before his eyes are fully open.“What’s wrong?”
“There’s someone outside,” I tell him, keeping my voice low.“By the tree line, moving toward the back of the property.”
He’s out of bed in one fluid motion, pulling on jeans as he moves to the window.I follow, pointing to where I saw the movement.For several long seconds, he stands perfectly still, eyes scanning the darkness with an intensity that reminds me of a predator.
Then I see it, his slight tensing, the narrowing of his eyes as he spots what I saw.“Fuck,” he breathes, already reaching for his phone.“How many did you see?”
“Three, maybe four,” I answer, my mouth suddenly dry.“Is it them?The Reapers?”
Instead of answering, he dials, speaking the moment the call connects.“Grey.We’ve got company.Northeast corner, moving toward the service entrance.At least four that Xavier spotted.”He listens briefly.“Understood.Activating protocol now.”
He ends the call, immediately dialing another number as he pulls on a shirt and reaches for his cut.“Butcher.Code red.Northeast perimeter breach in progress.”Another pause.“Yeah, Xavier saw them from our window.Wake everyone, quietly.Positions in three minutes.”
As he pockets his phone, I see the transformation complete, my lover disappearing entirely behind the enforcer’s cold efficiency.He moves to a cabinet I’ve never seen him open, unlocking it with a key from around his neck to reveal an arsenal that makes my breath catch.
“Stay here,” he orders, checking a handgun before tucking it into his waistband.“Lock the door behind me.Don’t open it for anyone but me or Grey.”
“Zach—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a kiss, hard and quick.
“I need to know you’re safe,” he says, his voice dropping to that register that brooks no argument.“Please.”
I nod, understanding that arguing will only divide his attention when he needs to be fully focused.“Be careful.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips.“Always am.”
Then he’s gone, slipping through the door with barely a sound.I lock it behind him as instructed, my hands shaking slightly as I return to the window.The clubhouse has come alive below.No lights, no shouting, just the silent deployment of a well-trained force.
I spot Zach as he emerges onto the grounds, moving to join Grey and Butcher near the main entrance.They confer briefly, then split up, Zach heading toward the area where I spotted the intruders.
The silence is worse than gunfire would be, this tense waiting, knowing something is about to happen but not when or how.I press my forehead against the cool glass, straining to see into the shadows where I last spotted movement.
The first explosion takes me completely by surprise.
The front gate erupts in flames and noise, the concussive force rattling the windows even two stories up.I jerk back instinctively, heart hammering in my chest as shouts and gunfire erupt below.Through the chaos, I can make out figures rushing the gate, using the explosion as cover to breach the perimeter.
This is a diversion, I realize suddenly.The men I spotted at the tree line, they’re coming from the back while everyone rushes to defend the front.
