Page 17 of Charging Dodge

When my body grows numb from the lack of sleep, I retreat inside, creeping through the house, checking every latch on the windows and testing the deadbolts making sure that no intruders can come in without me hearing them first. When I finally collapse onto the bed, I don't even bother pulling off my boots. I lie there staring at the ceiling, my ears ringing with the phantom sounds of footsteps that aren't there. My pulse won't slow down, and every time I close my heavy eyelids, I see the sheer terror in Adalynn's eyes. I'm running on fumes, but my mind is a runaway train that won't let me find any peace.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Adalynn

Motorcycles roar into the front yard the next morning, pulling me from sleep. My eyes snap open. Panic hits me like a tidal wave before I’ve even realized where I am. Engine noise rattles the windowpane. That brutal sound drags me back into the nightmare of splintering wood and heavy footsteps. I vault upright in bed. Sheets tangle around my legs like bindings. My breath catches in my throat and my pulse hammers against my ribs. Beside me, Amelia stirs and whimpers. Her small frame reacts to the noise outside. Carter’s already on his feet by the door. His posture is rigid and his hand’s buried in his pocket near his weapon.

As reality finally clears the fog from my mind, I exhale a long, relieved breath. Turning to Carter, I reassure him, “It’s fine. Dodge mentioned that a few of his men would be arriving today.”

Noah crawls out from under the bed. He’s shaking all over from the adrenaline spike caused by the motorcycles rumbling outside. I reach out and pull him up onto the mattress. “Sissy, they’re so loud,” he whines.

“They are,” I confirm, hugging him as I drag him onto my lap. Out of my peripheral view, I notice Amelia snap upward, her eyes still dazed from sleepiness. “What’s that noise?” she asks.

I smooth back her messy hair and keep my voice steady despite the lingering tremor in my own chest. “It’s just Dodge’s friends. They’re here to help us stay safe. There’s no reason to be scared.” The engines cut one by one, leaving a ringing silence that feels almost as heavy as the roar. I can hear the muffled sound of boots hitting the dirt and the low rumble of men’s voices through the walls.

Carter lets out a grounding breath and finally relaxes his shoulders. He steps away from the door and moves toward the foot of the bed. “Dodge wouldn’t let anyone through that he didn’t trust with his life. Take a minute to breathe. We aren’t going anywhere.” His calm tone cuts through the tension, and I feel the kids start to go limp against me as the immediate threat fades into the morning light.

Noah glances up, his eyes widening with that familiar boyish wonder. The fear is already ancient history for him. He nudges my arm, eager to get outside. “Can we go check out the bikes?” he asks. I shake my head at his selective memory. It’s like Dodge didn’t just let him sit on his own custom chopper a few days ago, but he’s already itching to see what else rolled into the yard.

Carter chuckles from the end of the bed, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Give them a minute, Noah,” he says, catching my eye with a wry grin. “I’m sure they need to talk before we go crashing their reunion.”

“What’s a reunion?” Amelia asks.

Carter leans his weight against the bedpost and looks at her. He stays quiet for a heartbeat as he searches for the right words. “It is when people who belong together get back in the same place after being apart for a while,” he explains. His voice is soft but there is a weight to it that makes the kids go still. He looks toward the window where the sunlight is cutting through the dust motes. “In our world, it is about making sure the people on your left and your right are still standing.”

“Carter,” I hiss. “You don't need to scare him. He's just a boy.”

Carter holds up his hands in surrender, his expression shifting to something softer. “My mistake,” he says, giving me a knowing glance. “They just need to learn how to keep their eyes open. That's all.”

Noah tugs on my sleeve, his earlier fear completely forgotten. “Can we see them now?”

I slide out of bed and set him on the floor. “Go ahead. Just stay close to the patio.”

He scrambles toward the door, Amelia hot on his feet as they talk about the motorcycles, their excitement spilling out into the hallway. Carter watches them before he returns to me. His gaze lingers on my face, searching for any remaining traces of the nightmare. “You're doing fine,” he murmurs. “We're all still standing.” He reaches out to steady me as I find my footing on the floorboards. “Should we get dressed and go meet Dodge’s friends?”

“I suppose we should,” I answer, though my mind drifts back to the kiss we shared. The memory of his lips against mine still burns, a persistent reminder of the barrier I built between us.

Carter holds my gaze for a heartbeat. He likely knows exactly what is running through my head. He reaches out and gives my shoulder a firm squeeze. It is a grounding touch that anchors me to the here and now.

“Dodge is a good man,” he says softly. “He just wears his heart on his sleeve.” I snort at his comment, Dodge does not wear his heart on his sleeve. The man still lets his past dictate his emotions and he doesn’t let many people in. I can tell that much from our interaction and the things he’s said to me.

I pull away to reach for my bag. “I know he is, Carter. That is part of the issue. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to handle his intensity right now.” He’s like a damn yo-yo. He goes up, then he swings down, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with him.

Carter watches me grab a clean shirt. He doesn’t press me. Instead, he turns toward the door. “I’ll wait in the hall. Take the time you need.” He knows from experience that when I get wound up, I need a minute. In this case, I need to find my bravery and plaster it on my face.

I stand there for a second after he exits. The silence in the room feels suffocating. I need to get my head on straight before I step outside to face them. I pull the shirt on and smooth the fabric, step into my jeans and toss on a pair of sandals. I can do this. I take a deep breath and walk toward the door.

“Your turn,” I say, brushing past him. I head for the kitchen to help Miranda prep breakfast for the men Dodge brought. I need to feed them, sure, but I also need answers. Who are these people, and what do they really want from us? We don’t know enough about them to tell the police anything useful if that’s their concern. None of us could point a finger at them and blame them for our folks murder.

When I walk into the main room, I stop in my tracks because the room is riddled with men. “Adalynn,” Dodge calls my name. “Come meet a few of my brothers.”

“A few?” I mutter beneath my breath. Dodge catches it, though, and a spark of amusement flickers in his gaze.

Dodge pulls me into his side as I approach, gesturing toward each of the men in turn. They offer respectful nods as he introduces them one by one. “Meet Rebel, my Sergeant At Arms,” Dodge says. “This is Cobra, our road captain, and these two are Pyre and Hulk, a couple of our prospects.”

“Nice to meet you,” I murmur, my voice sounding thin against the heavy silence of the room. I keep my chin tucked, wary of holding any of their eyes for too long. Dodge's palm stays firm against my waist, a grounding weight that keeps me from bolting. Rebel assesses me with a piercing stare, his jaw set, but he offers a polite dip of his head. Cobra just gives a curt nod, his attention shifting back to Dodge as if he's already done with the formalities. The two prospects, Pyre and Hulk, look younger than the rest. They shuffle their boots, appearing uncertain, their eyes darting between me and Dodge like they're waiting for a cue. I feel like an interloper in a world built on unspoken rules and rough edges. I don't belong here, but as long as Dodge has his hand on me, I suppose I'm staying.

“Dodge," Rebel says, his voice gravelly as he breaks the quiet. “We've got the perimeter secure for now. But you know they won't stay away forever.”