Chapter 34
34
LENA
Into The Ocean - Blue October
The moment I step into my apartment and flick on the light, it feels like the air has been knocked out of me.
Everything is wrecked. My furniture is overturned, cushions slashed open with stuffing spilling out like entrails. My photos are shattered on the floor, glass crunching under my sneakers. Clothes are ripped and strewn across every surface like confetti from some cruel, destructive celebration. And then I see it—the tank.
Blue’s tank.
The shattered glass glitters in the moonlight shining in through the blinds, water soaking into the carpet and pooling near the edges of the broken tank. Blue lies motionless on the gravel, his small, lifeless body catching the faint light filtering through the mess. My stomach twists, bile rising in my throat.
Blue wasn’t just a fish; he was Cruz’s fish.
Our fish, and now he’s gone too.
I can’t move. My legs feel like lead as I stare at the destruction. Everything is trashed. My bookshelves are tipped over, pages torn and fluttering like broken wings. Even the painting Cruz bought me from one of the local artists who hangs out down by the pier for my birthday, has been slashed, the canvas flapping limply against the wall.
The weight in my chest is unbearable. It’s like they didn’t just destroy my apartment—they came for my memories, for the pieces of Cruz I’ve been holding onto. Blue. The painting. Everything I had left of him.
Of us.
All of it, wrecked.
“Lena,” Reign’s voice cuts through the fog, low and sharp. I hadn’t even realized he followed me inside. I turn to look at him, and his expression is murderous. His hands are balled into fists, his jaw clenched so tight I think he might crack a tooth. He doesn’t say anything else at first, just surveys the wreckage with a growing fire in his eyes.
“It’s—” My voice cracks, and I try again. “It’s just stuff. I can?—”
“Stuff?” His voice is low, deadly. He turns to me, his gaze locking onto mine like he’s daring me to downplay this. “This isn’t just stuff, Lena. This is your home. And they didn’t just trash it—they sent a fucking message.”
I don’t have the energy to argue with him. He’s right. Of course, he’s fucking right. Owen’s crew knew exactly what they were doing.
They came for me. For the bike they think they won, and since they didn’t find what they were looking for, they took Cruz’s memories.
Knowing full fucking well how deeply it would pain me.
Anger me.
I sink to my knees near the tank, my hand hovering above Blue’s tiny body. The gravel is damp and gritty under my fingers, and I feel the sting of tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t think losing a fish would hurt this much, but Blue wasn’t just a fish. He was a little life I cared for, a connection to the ocean I’ve always loved. A connection to Cruz. But now he’s gone, and I can’t help but feel like I failed him.
Like I couldn’t protect something so small, so fragile.
Reign crouches beside me, his presence grounding but suffocating all at once. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch me, just watches me like he’s waiting for me to break.
Maybe I already have.
“Get your things,” he says finally, his voice quieter but no less firm.
“What?” I glance up at him, confusion cutting through the haze of grief and anger.
“You’re not staying here,” he says, standing up and towering over me. “Pack what you can, and we’re leaving.”
“Reign, I?—”
“For once, don’t fucking argue with me, Lena,” he snaps, his tone sharp enough to make me flinch. He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “This isn’t up for discussion. You’re coming with me.”
“I can’t just leave,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but it cracks under the weight of everything. “This is my home.”
He looks at me then, his expression softer but still laced with that fire. “It was your home. Not anymore. Think about it, Lena. Owen and his crew, they know where you live. They know where they can find you. You think this is bad? If you stay and they actually find you here, it’s only gonna get worse.”
The truth of his words hits me like a slap, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept. My home—my safe space—is gone. There’s nothing left for me here except broken memories and a heartache of pain.
Reign doesn’t wait for me to argue again. He starts moving, grabbing a duffle bag from the corner and tossing it onto the remains of my couch. “Pack what’s left. Whatever’s important to you and hurry. We can’t linger here, we have no idea when they’ll be back.”
I stand there for a moment, frozen, before forcing myself to move. My hands shake as I pick through the wreckage, grabbing clothes that aren’t completely ruined, a few books that escaped the carnage, and a photo album that miraculously survived. Reign moves through the space like a hurricane, picking up what he can salvage and throwing it into his backpack with a ferocity that makes me uneasy.
When we’re done, the apartment feels emptier than it should. Like they didn’t just destroy my things—they stole the air, the light, the life from this place.
I glance at Blue’s tank, now still and lifeless, and my heart clenches. I can’t just leave him there, lying on the damp gravel of his destroyed home like he doesn’t matter. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I reach into the tank, gently cupping his small, delicate body in my hands.
“Lena…” Reign’s voice is soft, hesitant, but I shake my head.
“I need to do this,” I murmur, my voice cracking.
I carry him to the bathroom, every step feeling heavier than the last. The harsh fluorescent light overhead makes everything feel too sharp, too real. My hands tremble as I lower him into the toilet, the water rippling around his tiny, vibrant fins that once moved so effortlessly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my throat tight. “I should’ve taken better care of you. You deserved better.”
The words are small, but they carry all the weight of the grief I’m holding.
With one last shaky breath, I press the handle. The sound of the flush is too loud, too final, and it feels like another piece of me has been taken away.
I stand there for a moment, staring down at the empty bowl, before wiping my eyes and stepping back into the main room. Reign is waiting near the door, his expression unreadable but his presence steady.
“You ready?” he asks gently.
I nod, but my voice is barely a whisper. “Yeah.”
I take one last glance around the apartment, the silence pressing down on me, before following Reign out the door. The tank is empty now, just like the space I’m leaving behind.
The Speed Demons’ garage is loud and chaotic, the sound of engines revving and tools clanking echoing off the walls. The smell of oil and rubber fills the air, familiar and oddly comforting. It feels alive here, full of energy and motion, like the world hasn’t completely crumbled.
The guys are scattered around the space, working on their bikes or shooting the shit. Revel is leaning against a workbench, wiping grease off his hands, while Wolfe and Talon argue about something near the back. Draygon is perched on a stool, flipping a knife in his hand like it’s a toy, his expression unreadable.
The second I step into the room, Revel’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he takes me in. He drops the rag in his hands and rushes over, his strides long and purposeful, his protective big brother energy rolling off him in waves.
“What the hell’s going on? What happened?” he demands, his tone sharp but laced with worry as his hands rest lightly on my arms, scanning me for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt? Did they come after you?”
I shake my head quickly, my voice catching as I try to steady myself. “I’m okay, I?—”
His jaw tightens, his gaze flicking to Reign before snapping back to me. “Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not. Start talking, Lena. What happened?”
I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “They trashed my place. Owen’s men… they tore it apart.”
His jaw clenches so hard I think it might crack, fury flashing in his eyes. “Fucking bastards,” he mutters, stepping back slightly but staying close, like he can’t let go of the need to protect me. “And why the hell did you take off like that?” he adds, his voice softer now, but the worry still clear.
I glance down, guilt tightening my chest. “They didn’t tell me the race was for pink slips,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I found out, it was too late. I couldn’t do it, Revel. I couldn’t just hand over Cruz’s bike. I just… I panicked. I left.”
Revel exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Lena. You should’ve come straight to us. You know we would’ve handled it.”
“I didn’t think,” I murmur, my voice cracking. “I was scared. That bike is all I have left of him, and I couldn’t let them take it.”
Reign steps closer, his voice steady. “She did what she felt like she had to do. She’s here now, and she’s safe. That’s what matters.”
Revel’s gaze shifts to Reign, and after a tense beat, he steps forward and holds out his fist. Reign bumps it without hesitation, a silent understanding passing between them.
“Thanks for looking out for her,” Revel says, his voice low but genuine. “For finding her before they could.”
“Always,” Reign replies, his tone just as sincere.
The sight of them—two of the most important people in my life—getting along, bonding, sends a warmth through my chest that I didn’t expect. For all their rough edges, their anger, and their protectiveness, there’s something grounding about seeing them work together, even if they don’t say much.
Revel glances back at me, his expression softening slightly. “Like Reign said, you’re here now, and you’re safe. That’s what matters. They won’t touch you or anything that belongs to you again. Not while we’re around.”
Reign nods, his gaze meeting mine for a moment before he adds, “We’ll handle this, Lena. You just have to trust us. We got you. You’re not alone, not anymore.”
The weight in my chest eases slightly as I glance between them. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe—and I feel seen.
“What’s going on?” Talon asks, his voice sharp as he takes in my expression and the duffle bag slung over Reign’s shoulder.
“Owen’s guys trashed her place,” Reign says bluntly, his tone hard enough to cut glass. “They left a fucking message, and we’re not ignoring it.”
A ripple of anger moves through the group as they circle around, their expressions darkening. Thorne straightens, his jaw tightening, his voice low and menacing. “Bloody hell, they’re getting bolder. Reckless. They’re begging for a reckoning.”
“A few of his guys came by my parents’ restaurant too,” Draygon adds, his tone grim. “Tried to start something when I told them she wasn’t around and that I didn’t know where she was, but I put them down before they could. Fuckers didn’t stand a chance.”
The room buzzes with tension, but it’s not chaotic. It’s focused. Controlled. This is what they do—they rally, they protect, they fight.
And now, they’re doing it for me.
For the first time, I feel the full weight of what it means to be part of this family. They don’t just stand by—they go to war for their own. I’ve seen it before, just last summer, when they stood between Bexley and her shitty abusive ex-boyfriend. They didn’t hesitate when she needed them. They protected her. They killed for her.
Because that’s what family does.
And the Demons? They’re fucking family . The kind that doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. They’ll burn the world down if it means keeping one of their own safe.
That realization is overwhelming, but there’s comfort in it too. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about all of us. Together.
Reign’s voice snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts. “We need to figure out how to deal with this. They’re not gonna stop, not until they get what they want.” His tone sharpens, cold and unyielding. “And there’s no fucking way I’m letting them touch Lena or get their hands on that bike.”
Wolfe leans forward, arms braced on the table, his gaze hard. “What exactly are we dealing with? What’s their endgame here?”
Reign’s eyes flick to me, and I already know the answer. My chest tightens as he says it anyway. “Cruz’s bike, and clearly they’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
The air in the room shifts, growing heavier under the weight of those words. No one speaks for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken tension.
“They didn’t tell me it was for pink slips,” I say, my voice cutting through the quiet as I explain to the group. I clutch the strap of my bag, my fingers digging into the fabric. “I didn’t know. I never would’ve risked Cruz’s bike like that. Not ever.”
Talon’s gaze locks with mine, his expression darkening further. “Of course they didn’t. It’s not exactly a common thing there, but as much as a douchebag Owen is, he’s not stupid. He knows what that bike is worth. He likely saw you pull up on it, and took you for an easy target.”
I shake my head, anger and frustration bubbling up. “And that’s allowed? Isn’t there some kind of rule against changing the stakes without telling all the racers? There should be, right?”
Thorne snorts from his spot by the window, his lips curving into a dry smirk. “Rules? On the streets? Love, there’s no bloody rules at the strip. Not ones that matter, anyway.” He shrugs, his tone laced with disdain. “What Owen did is dirty, yeah. But it’s not against the unwritten code. If you’re on the line, you’re fair game. That’s how it works.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snap, my frustration spilling over.
“Welcome to the streets,” Thorne replies with a sardonic laugh, his gaze sharp. “The only rule out there is don’t fucking lose.”
Revel growls, leaning forward. “Doesn’t matter. What Owen pulled, going to her apartment and trashing it? That’s a line he shouldn’t have fucking crossed and he’s not getting away with it. Not on my fucking watch.”
“I guess giving them a little lesson on just how bad they fucked up, could be fun,” Draygon adds, his tone laced with venom. “Lena’s one of us, and that bike? That bike will never be ridden by anyone other than a fucking Demon. That’s it. End of story.”
Sayshen cracks his knuckles with a grim smile. “They want to play dirty? Fine. We’ll play dirty right back.”
Thorne leans against the wall, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. “All that knuckle-cracking, mate. You trying to scare someone or just remind us you’ve got hands?”
Sayshen glares at him, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to grin. “Keep running your mouth, Thorne, and I’ll show you what these hands can do.”
Before Thorne can reply, Wolfe cuts in, his tone light and dripping with mischief. “Careful, baby Shaw. Don’t go ruining Thorne’s pretty face. Some of us actually like looking at it.”
Thorne doesn’t miss a beat, tilting his head with a dramatic sigh and giving Wolfe an exaggerated once-over. “Oh, give it a rest, mate. You’ve been eyeing me up for years. If you’re that bloody desperate, just admit it and get in the queue.”
Wolfe grins, leaning forward in his chair, his tone light and flirty. “Why would I beg when I’m already living rent-free in your head, Thorne? Go on, admit it—you’d miss me if I stopped.”
Thorne lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but the faint pink creeping up his neck gives him away. “You’re a bloody nuisance, Wolfe, you know that?”
Wolfe winks, his grin widening. “Maybe. But I’m your bloody nuisance.”
“Enough,” Talon snaps, his voice cutting through the banter like a blade. His tone carries a sharp edge, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Save the flirting for later. We’ve got bigger problems.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it tonight,” Draygon says, his voice softening as he glances at me. “Tonight, she’s safe. That’s what matters.”
Thorne’s smirk fades, his expression hardening as he straightens. “Sounds like a fucking solid plan. Let those bastards wait till tomorrow to learn they fucked with the wrong family. When we hit them, they’ll wish they never fucking crawled out from whatever hole they came from, yeah?”
Reign’s gaze sweeps over the group, his tone dark and unwavering. “Tonight, we lock it down. No risks, no loose ends. I’ll take Lena back to my place and be ready if those assholes are stupid enough to show their faces. If they come for her—or Cruz’s bike—they’ll regret the day they fucked with my girl.”
Before I can even react to the words, he reaches for me, pulling me into him. His arms wrap around me, holding me firmly against his chest, and for a moment, the world quiets. His heartbeat is steady under my cheek, a grounding rhythm that makes my chest ache in the best way.
None of the guys seem phased by it at all. Wolfe smirks from his seat, catching my eye, and winks. He mouths the words about time before leaning back, looking far too smug.
Revel stands near the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He doesn’t say a word, just nods in acknowledgment, though his jaw is still set with fury. It’s clear Owen’s men trashing my place isn’t something he’s ready to let go of anytime soon.
Thorne, still lounging against the wall, lets out a dry scoff. “Right, well, guess that settles that. Let’s hope they’re stupid enough to show up tonight so Reign can teach them a proper lesson, yeah?”
I glance around at all of them—Reign, Revel, Wolfe, Sayshen, Talon, and Thorne—and the weight in my chest eases slightly. They’re loud, messy, and sharp-tongued, but they’re mine. My family. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel safe. I believe them.