Chapter 26
Time passed—not in days, but in moments. I worked like a woman possessed, doing all the jobs I had done before with a renewed zest. I showed up to every club gathering, cooked every meal until every biker looked a bit more rotund around the waist, and wore my heart on my sleeve. I helped Jackson fix up bikes. I babysat Jewel and Diego Jr., who still called me Aunt Nicky despite my best efforts. I cleaned blood off floors after messy rescue ops, took stitches from Diego with nothing but a wince when things went south, kept the motel rooms ready for anyone who needed one, and threw everything I had into redeeming myself.
At first, no one quite knew what to do with me. Holly still gave me death glares, sharp as a blade, but the venom dulled with every batch of fried chicken and every laugh that slipped out. Maria was cautious, but I caught her smiling during yet another dumb cop story. Baby steps. I would happily take them. I was determined to get my friends back and, with each passing day, the hope that I sheltered like a flame in the wind grew stronger.
The brothers were harder. Dalton barely spoke to me. Mac spoke even less. But sometimes… I caught them watching. A hand brushing mine when passing a plate at the dinner table. A lingering look across the garage. One night, Mac called me “Katie” instead of “her.” And I sobbed like a baby in the bathroom the first time Dalton called me “Vixen.”
I didn’t push. Didn’t beg. I just stayed. I kept cooking. Kept cleaning. Kept helping. Kept loving them from a careful distance. Giving them the time they needed. I could be patient. I owed them that much.
One warm evening, a song drifted from my phone speaker—some old bluesy tune with a beat that made my hips sway and my heart feel light. I was barefoot, spinning around the kitchen, singing off-key, and waving a spoon around like a baton. Dancing like I hadn’t a care in the world. It might have been pretend, but it sure felt good. For a moment, I felt like myself again. As the chorus filled the room, I did one last elaborate spin and stopped halfway through, nearly falling on my ass. Dalton stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. But he moved first.
Dalton crossed the space in three long strides, took my face between his hands like I might disappear if he let go—and kissed me.
Long. Slow. It felt like coming home. Full of hope and heartache and something that tasted an awful lot like forgiveness. When we came up for air, he rested his forehead against mine and said, “Promise me you’ll never leave again, Vixen.”
I didn’t even have to think—there was no hesitation.
“Never. I promise.”
The next few weeks passed by in a blur. The only person who still eyed me with a hint of distrust was Mac. I knew he would come to me when he was ready. So, I lost myself in my work and in my friends. Dalton and I tried to keep everything lowkey. Our relationship was still very much on shaky ground, nothing like it had been when I left. But, for the first time in a long time, I had hope that it would get there. Everything was going right.
Until it wasn’t.
One day, I pulled into the parking lot on my Triumph. I knew something was wrong about two seconds later. The club was chaos. Shouting. Guns drawn. Maria crying. Holly pale. I grabbed the first person who ran past me, which just so happened to be Rodney.
“What ishappening?”
Rodney looked at me, eyes wild.
“Some guy showed up, he had a gun to Maria’s head. Said either Mac went with him or he was going to set the bomb he put on her off. They pulled out not even five minutes ago—you probably passed them on the road.”
Holy fucking shit. I had passed a speeding truck, but I didn’t think anything of it.
“Where is she? Where’s Maria?”
Rodney pointed towards the kitchen and I all but ran that way. Inside, Maria sat at the island, tears streaking her makeup, and Diego doing his best to console her. Holly was on the phone, furiously yelling at someone to do their job. Jackson had apparently already disarmed the bomb vest, or it had been a dud. Dalton whirled in my direction as soon as I walked in. The look in his eyes answered my question. Mac was gone. Holly threw her phone at the wall, cursing angrily. It was pure chaos.
Holly turned to me, and her next words threatened to shatter everything I had rebuilt.
“Your buddy Braxton stopped by for a visit. And we can’t fucking find him or where we took Mac.”
Dalton snapped at her, “This isnother fault.”
Jackson stepped in Dalton’s face. “Don’t you raise your voice at her.”
Diego froze, watching his two friends as the tension rose. Holly was pacing, and I knew I had to do something. Where would we take him? Where would they go? Then it hit me. And while everyone was distracted by worry and fear, I slipped out the door.
Holly was right—I had started this, and I damn well was going to finish it.
That bastard had come back from whatever dark corner he’d been hiding in, still obsessed. Still dangerous. Still convinced I belonged to him. I was about to show him just how wrong he was.
I pulled up to the giant storage units, parking several buildings away from the one I knew Braxton had used for a sort of operation base. Most people used these units to store boats and RVs, meaning they weren’t here too often. Braxton had taken full advantage ofthat. I had swung by my house and grabbed my Colt. Swinging a leg over my bike, I pulled it from the holster as I made my way towards Braxton’s unit.
The door was just barely open. Inside, Braxton paced in front of Mac, who was tied to a chair and bleeding from the mouth, but smirking anyway. I took a minute to get my bearings and figure out a game plan.
“You think you matter to her?” Braxton sneered. “You think you have what it takes to be the man she needs? I know her. The real her. All you know is a lie.”
Mac spat blood at his feet. “Oh, I know her. In ways you never will. And you? You’re dead the second my people walk through that door.”
