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I was about two seconds away from flipping the entire bar and blowing their fucking heads off. Then the clubhouse doors opened. My head snapped up instinctively. A woman stepped inside.

Was the universe fucking with me right now?

She looked like she was thrown into my oversized hoodie. Her wavy dark hair framed her face like a halo, and her hazel eyes widened in fear as they moved around the bar. She visibly relaxed once her eyes found mine. A grin slowly overtook her features as she brought her palm up to wave at me like a child.

The entire room went silent. Every Son, every club girl, every breathing soul in the damn building turned toward her.

“What the fuck?”

“Is that Graves’s hoodie?”

“Who is she?”

“No way.”

I slowly rose from my stool. Fury crawled up my spine. Not just because she was here, but because she also left the fucking house. I met her halfway.

“Please, don’t be mad.” She rushed the words out, barely catching her breath.

“What part of ‘sit your ass on the couch and don’t move’ did you not understand?” I growled.

She flinched, ducking. I cussed out, strings of profanities leaving my lips.

Damn my temper.

She slowly raised her face, her expression marred with horror. “I-I thought I could stay there alone. I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t breathe. I had to come find you.”

Every ounce of anger in me bled away. The clubhouse and everything else faded into oblivion.

My hands curled into fists. I almost burst into a fit of rage, wanting to flip the entire bar upside down, but I had to keep it together beside her. A Son beside me muttered a curse because now everyone had noticed the bruises on her face.

Wren looked around nervously, her lips twitching into a smile. “Um ... he-he didn’t hurt me. I’m safe. So, you can just ... look away now. Yeah ... thank you.”

But I could still see the panic on her face. She was trying to hide it, but I could tell the crowd was overwhelming her. There were too many men in here, and in her tiny little head, they were no different from the cunt who hurt her. Little did she know I’d burn this place to the ground if anyone tried anything.

Where did that come from?

She looked like she was seconds away from bolting through the door.

“You fuckers should stare at something else before I start ripping out eyeballs.”

There was silence at first, then they started moving.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” she stuttered, her soft hazel flickering to my face. When the rays of light in the bar hit her face, my breath fucking hitched.

She looked so breathtaking—and fucking fragile. It was annoying.

And for the first time since she’d stumbled into my garage, a dangerous realization settled into my bones. Someone had hurt her. Badly. And if I found out who he was, God better help him because I fucking wouldn’t.

Chapter Five

Wren

When I took off my engagement ring, it was like I could finally breathe.

It wasn’t a promise of love, or a symbol of eternity as Derek claimed. It was the personal prison he curated for me, his way of controlling me. No more. Because the only way Derek Cole would have me back was if I was dead.

I was still at Knox’s place because I knew the kind of danger I was in had restricted my access to my phone, cards, and most of all, my workplace. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a place like The Biker’s Pit, deemed unsafe by the Covington Hills elite, would be the one place I felt the safest.