She slid forward until her chest was flush with his back. His heat wrapped around her, grounding her, overwhelming her, chasing the last of the terror from her bones.
He didn’t move for a moment.
Didn’t breathe.
Then, quietly, almost like the words slipped out of him:
“Good girl.”
Her heart jumped, her fingers tightening instinctively in his shirt.
The engine roared to life beneath them, vibrating through her legs, her ribs, her spine, through every place she touched him.
And for the first time since the banging on the door, she felt like she could breathe again.
Wind whipped past her. Her heart pounded. Her fingers curled tighter into his shirt.
She felt everything: the strength in his back, the flex of his shoulders, the way he leaned into turns like he trusted her to follow his body without hesitation.
And she did.
She held onto him like he was the only solid thing in the world.
After some time, the Bloodline Saints clubhouse rose out of the darkness like a fortress — brick, steel, neon, and the low thrum of music vibrating through the walls. Bikes lined the front like a row of sleeping beasts.
Noah parked near the entrance and helped her off the bike, his hands lingering at her waist a moment longer than necessary.
Inside, the clubhouse was alive: warm lights, leather couches, a bar stocked with bottles, a pool table, a dartboard, and walls covered in Saints patches and photos. Men moved through the space with purpose, nodding respectfully when they saw Rook.
“VP,” one said.
“Rook,” another greeted.
Avery felt the shift immediately.
This wasn’t Noah the boy she knew. This was Rook — the man they followed.
He guided her to the main room, his hand never leaving her back. “Sit here. I’ll be right back. I need to talk with Ledger.”
She nodded, sinking onto a leather couch. Her heart was still racing from the ride, the adrenaline, the closeness.
Rook crossed the room to Ledger, who was already pulling up camera feeds on a laptop.
“We’ll install a full system at the bakery,” Ledger said. “High-res, motion-activated, cloud-backed. No blind spots.”
“Tonight,” Rook growled.
Ledger nodded. “Already on it.”
Avery watched them, the efficiency, the seriousness, the way Rook’s presence commanded the room. He wasn’t just part of the club.
He was a pillar of it.
A large man with silver threaded through his beard approached her quietly and lowered himself into the chair across from her. His presence was calm, steady, the kind that settled the air without trying.
“You okay?” he asked.
Avery nodded, though her hands were still shaking. “I think so.”
