Chapter 9
NICOLE
It was past eleven when she made it downstairs, her body heavy with the kind of fatigue that sleep couldn't cure.
The rest of the morning had been deceptively ordinary, but underneath the normalcy, her nerves hummed.
She felt like she was on pins and needles, her skin too tight, her breath too shallow.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for the shoe to drop.
The kitchen smelled of fresh coffee and bacon grease and sounds of domesticity that should have been comforting but instead felt like a facade.
Nicole had almost let herself believe in the ordinary again.
She held her cup of coffee tightly as it warmed her hands in the clubhouse kitchen, the bitter-sweet taste grounding her in the present moment.
Kayleigh sat at the large wooden table, her tongue poking out in concentration as she colored with Emilee, purple crayon gripped in her small fist. The normalcy of it made Nicole's chest ache.
Laughter spilled from the Spartan women as they swapped stories, their voices rising and falling in familiar rhythms. Several of the Valhalla women had come to visit in the last week.
Their men had meetings with the Watchmen officers as their women hung out with the littles.
Nicole met many of them, and had instantly taken to them all.
The community here in Grand Ridge was amazing and unlike any small town she’d ever visited.
People here seemed to truly care about each other.
Tank's wife was describing his attempt at cooking dinner last night, complete with dramatic hand gestures and spot-on impressions that had everyone cackling.
These women had seen darkness, Nicole could see it in their eyes, the way they held themselves, but they'd found light again. Maybe she could too.
Savannah pulled her into a warm hug that smelled like vanilla and lavender, holding on just a second longer than necessary. "You okay?" she whispered, and Nicole nodded against her shoulder even though they both knew it was a lie.
It was amazing watching Savannah with Savage.
The massive biker's entire demeanor shifted when she entered his orbit, like a guard dog recognizing its person.
He was very similar to Slash in many ways—the constant vigilance, the way his hand found the small of Savannah's back without looking, guiding and protecting in equal measure.
He was protective, doted on her, and brought her coffee without being asked.
When Savannah reached for something on a high shelf, Savage was there before she could even stretch, his hand briefly squeezing her hip.
He swatted her butt whenever Kayleigh wasn't around, earning a glare that fooled no one.
Nicole was so grateful for how they curbed some of their dynamic behaviors around her daughter. The bikers who could probably kill with their bare hands became gentle giants, censoring their language, hiding their weapons, transforming the clubhouse into something that felt safe. Almost normal.
Almost.
But Slash—Slash hadn't let his guard down for a single second since the text came in.
His gaze tracked every window like a sniper checking sight lines, cataloging exits and entrances with military precision.
When someone walked past outside, his hand twitched toward where she knew he kept his gun.
He lingered near Kayleigh like a shadow with teeth, never more than ten feet away, his presence a constant reminder that danger still existed beyond these walls.
Even when he appeared relaxed, leaning against the counter with his coffee, Nicole could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw muscle jumped every time a door opened.
She'd tried to lighten the mood earlier, sliding up beside him and bumping his hip with hers. "You know she's safe here, right?" Nicole had teased him softly, keeping her voice light. "All these guys around? The security? You're being overprotective."
The look he'd given her could have melted steel.
His eyes had darkened to storm clouds, and he'd answered with a grunt and a warning look that said, Don't test me, little girl.
The possessive edge in his gaze, the way his hand had briefly gripped her waist—firm, claiming—sent heat flooding through her despite everything.
She'd flushed and smiled, ducking her head to hide the way her body responded to his dominance, not realizing how fast that smile would shatter. How quickly her whole world would tilt on its axis.
It happened in seconds. Maybe less. Time fractured into before and after.
Nicole was drying dishes beside Tater, the warm water having turned her fingers pruny.
She was listening to him tell a story about his first time on a motorcycle, how he'd crashed into his mama's prize rose bushes.
It was comfortable, these mundane moments that made her feel like maybe they could have a real life here.
Kayleigh's voice piped up from across the room, sweet and innocent. "Mommy, can I go outside and get my elephant? I left her on the picnic table yesterday and she's probably lonely."
Nicole's hands stilled on the dish towel. Every maternal instinct screamed no, but she was trying so hard not to let her fear infect her daughter. She hesitated, the word balanced on her tongue, but before she could answer, Slash strode over with purposeful steps that made the floorboards creak.
He crouched down to Kayleigh's level, his scarred face serious but gentle. "Stay close," he ordered, but his tone was softer than his usual growl. "Right by the door where I can see you. I'll be right behind."
Kayleigh beamed, her whole face lighting up as she bounced on her toes. "Thanks, Slash! Come on, Emilee!" She grabbed Em’s hand and skipped out, ponytail swinging, completely unaware of how her mother's heart clenched with each step toward the door.
Nicole turned to rinse the last glass, forcing herself to breathe normally. The cool water ran over her hands, and she focused on that sensation, trying to quiet the anxiety crawling up her spine. Slash was watching. Everything was fine. She needed to stop being so paranoid.
The sound of shouts ripped through the hallway like gunfire.
Then Emilee's scream—high, terrified, wrong.
The glass slipped from Nicole's numb fingers, shattering against the porcelain sink.
Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought they might crack as she bolted for the door.
Her hip crashed into the counter, but she didn't feel it.
She nearly collided with Slash in the doorway.
He was already in motion, already transformed from watchful protector to predator unleashed.
His face had gone cold, deadly, the expression of a man who'd killed before and would do it again without hesitation.
Outside, chaos turned the peaceful afternoon into a nightmare.
Emilee was on the ground, her palms scraped and bleeding as she scrambled up. She was screaming Kayleigh's name over and over, the sound raw and desperate. Gravel scattered everywhere. The acrid smell of burnt rubber filled the air.
A black SUV was peeling away, tires screaming against asphalt. Through the back window— God, no, please no —Kayleigh's terrified face pressed against the glass, her small hands slapping frantically, mouth open in a scream Nicole couldn't hear but felt in her bones.
Nicole's scream tore from her throat like it might rip her lungs apart, raw and primal. "KAYLEIGH!"
Her baby. He’d taken her baby.
Slash didn't hesitate. Not for a heartbeat.
He was already sprinting to his bike, his movements fluid and lethal.
The engine roared to life like an awakened beast, and he was moving before Nicole could draw another breath, tearing down the gravel drive like the devil himself.
Gravel spit under his tires in a violent spray.
His cut snapped behind him like wings of vengeance, his body bent low over the handlebars in deadly pursuit.
Within seconds, several other bikes joined, Mad Dog, Rampage, Arrow, Savage, their engines creating a symphony of rage that shook the ground. They moved like a pack of wolves, coordinated and ruthless. Irish ran towards his bike, then turned and hopped into his truck. His large dog following.
Nicole's knees buckled, her legs suddenly unable to hold her weight.
Lucky caught her before she hit the ground, his arms keeping her upright.
His voice was rough in her ear, urgent but steady.
"He's got this. If anyone can get her back, it's Slash.
That man would walk through hell for that little girl. "
He already had his phone out, his fingers flying over the screen as he called Dax, barking information in short, clipped sentences. "Child abduction. Black SUV. Multiple units in pursuit."
Nicole's entire body shook, violent tremors that started in her chest and radiated outward.
Nausea gripped her stomach, acid filled her throat.
Cold terror flooded every vein, ice water in her blood.
The SUV was getting smaller in the distance.
Her daughter was disappearing. Everything was disappearing.
She clawed at Lucky's arm, her nails leaving marks, her voice breaking into pieces.
"That's him—it has to be him—it's Brock. He took her. He'll hurt her to hurt me. He'll?—"
She couldn't finish. Couldn't voice the horrors playing in her mind because speaking them might make them real.
Savannah dropped to her knees beside her, pulling Nicole into a crushing hug.
Her hands gripped Nicole's face, forcing eye contact.
"Listen to me. Look at me, honey. You know Slash.
You know what kind of man he is. He'll burn the world down before he lets anyone touch her.
That bastard just signed his own death warrant. "