Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
BLADE
Church is tense tonight. Not loud like normal, no laughter bouncing off concrete. Tonight the air vibrates like a live wire. Everyone feels it. Everyone knows shit is changing in Perdition whether we like it or not.
We’re all seated at the long chapel table.
Mason at the head, calm and carved from stone.
Dagger looming beside him, built like he could go through a wall just for the hell of it.
Piston and Tank exchange low comments, but even they aren’t joking like usual.
Rev taps his pen in that edgy rhythm that says silence makes him itch.
Switch sits across from me, jaw tight, fists clenched, laser-focused and pissed off…
which means something’s seriously wrong.
Mason clears his throat, quiet but sharp enough to cut the room still. “We’ve got a situation getting worse by the day.” His gaze sweeps the table. “Those college kids are selling drugs in our club and our town. It’s moving through Perdition fast. Too clean. Their too organized for street punks.”
Tank nods once. “We’ve had two overdoses this week. High-grade product. Stronger than anything we’ve seen around here before.”
“And they aren’t operating alone,” Rev adds. “Someone with real connections is backing them. Probably thinks we’re too distracted to notice or we wouldn’t think twice about college punks selling in our town.”
A humorless laugh comes out of me. “They picked the wrong damn town.”
Mason shifts his stare to me. “What’s been going down at Perdition?”
“Same group sniffing around for weeks,” I say. “Entitled assholes with daddy’s money and no survival instinct. They think if they throw enough cash around, no one’s gonna check the package it came in.” My jaw tightens. “They’re not here to party. They’ve been testing the boundaries.”
“And the boundaries of this club don’t move,” Switch snaps, voice sharp as a blade.
He’s not wrong. But that edge in his tone? Has nothing to do with drugs. He’s been watching me. Watching Bri. Watching the way I react when someone so much as glances at her. That tension’s been building too long to ignore.
“They’re pushing their luck,” Mason says. “We need to figure out who’s backing them and send a message. One clear enough they won’t come back.”
Dagger cracks his knuckles. “My favorite kind of message.”
“We handle it calculated,” Mason counters. “Eyes everywhere this weekend. No solo acts. No explosions. Not yet.”
I nod. “Got it.”
That should end the meeting. But Mason’s stare doesn’t move. It lingers until the shift in the room clicks into place like a loaded round chambering. His tone drops lower. “Now. Blade. You ready to tell us what’s going on with Bri?”
Chairs creak as heads swivel toward me. Rev’s grin spreads slow and wicked. Tank leans forward like he’s got popcorn. Piston mutters “finally.” Even Dagger looks almost entertained. Switch? He’s already standing. Shoulders broad and ready for war.
I sit up straighter and decide I’m done dancing around this. I’m done pretending she doesn’t matter. “No bullshit. Bri’s mine.”
The reaction is instant. Rev throws his fists up.
Tank barks a laugh. Piston nods like he saw this coming a mile away.
Even Dagger’s expression shifts to something like approval.
Switch on the other hand stalks around the table.
He stops right in front of me and stares me down.
“You show up with her on the back of your bike,” he says, voice low and sharp.
“You kiss her in front of all of us. You walked her in like she’s under your protection.
I stand toe to to with him, close and unmoving as I give him a hard stare. “She is.”
“You sure you wanna say that out loud?” he asks, low and dangerous.
I don’t even blink. “Pretty fucking sure. I’m making Bri my old lady.”
Silence detonates and then chaos floods in. Rev punches my arm. Tank whoops loud enough to shake the walls. Piston starts planning drinks for a claim party. The room shifts from shocked to celebratory in a heartbeat.
Except Switch. He just looks at me. Measuring every inch of my intent. Every flaw. Every past mistake. Finally, he sticks out his hand. I take it. Tight and steady. “You hurt her,” he says, voice just for me, “and I’ll bury you under this shop. I don’t care if you’re my best friend or not.”
“Fair,” I reply without hesitation. “But I won’t. Ever.”
His shoulders drop a fraction.
Mason lifts his beer and gives me that rare nod of approval. “To Blade and Bri.”
“To Blade and Bri,” the guys echo, bottles clinking loud and proud.
Something deep inside me, welded shut for years, finally unlocks. The noise around the table returns to chaotic normal, but none of it touches me. My entire focus is already outside this room. On her.
As soon as we adjourn, I’m on my feet, helmet in hand. Mason claps my shoulder. “Go check on your girl.”
I nod and head out. I swing my leg over my bike, engine rumbling alive beneath me. The vibration churns through me like purpose and fire. I’m not questioning. I’m not second-guessing. I’m not running. I’m riding straight toward the one thing I want more than anything.
Bri’s mine. I’m hers. And if anyone’s got a problem with that, they can take their shot. Face to face. Tonight I claimed her to my brothers. Next, I claim her to her face.
I shoot Bri a text.
Me: What’re you up to?
Bri: Watching TV. Alone. Ansley’s out on a date.
Me: I’m coming over.
Bri: …Wait what?
I don’t give her time to overthink. I’m already on my bike, already rolling through dark streets that feel too quiet for how loud my chest is pounding. I park outside her apartment and knock once. The hallway light flickers above me, buzzing like it’s as anxious as I am.
Then she opens the door. She’s in skin-tight black leggings and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder like the damn thing’s clinging to her for dear life.
Her hair’s down and messy from lounging, lips soft like she’d been chewing them.
No makeup. Just her. All natural curves and warmth and trouble. Fuck me she’s beautiful.
Her eyes widen a little when she sees me. “Um… hey?”
I’m standing here like a caveman trying to remember language. “Hey.” It comes out rough.
She tilts her head, sweater slipping a bit more, revealing smooth skin that should not be making my entire brain short-circuit. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, stepping inside without waiting for an invite because if I hesitate I might start thinking and that’s dangerous. “Needed to see you.”
Her brows pick up the tiniest bit. “Oh.”
Her voice does something to me. Something I should maybe fear.
She steps back to let me in and the scent of her place hits me like sugar and warmth and whatever spell she’s been slowly casting on me for months. The TV plays low in the background. Some true-crime thing. Figures.
She shuts the door and I watch the lock click into place. My pulse kicks.
She steps back to let me in and the scent of her place hits me like sugar and warmth and whatever spell she’s been slowly casting on me for months. The TV plays low in the background. Some true-crime thing. Figures.
She shuts the door and I watch the lock click into place. My pulse kicks.
Not because she’s locking us in.
But because she’s locking the world out.
She turns toward me with that soft, curious expression. Like she knows something is different but she’s not sure what version of me she’s about to get. The casual tease. The cocky asshole. Or the man who would burn down the entire county to keep her safe.
I step closer. Slow. Controlled. Even though every part of me wants to push her up against the wall and take what’s already mine.
“You good?” she asks, voice light but her eyes searching.
“I’m great,” I say. My voice is deeper than I intend. Rough like gravel. “Church got interesting.”
Her brows lift. “Oh? Did you finally get into a fight with Piston over who used the last of the shop coffee?”
I give her a look that stops her teasing in its tracks.
“No,” I say, stepping right into her space. Our chests almost touch. “I told them about us.”
Her breath hitches. She grabs a fistful of her sweater like she needs something to hold onto. “About… us?”
“I told them you’re my old lady.” My fingers trail up her arm, slow, claiming every inch. “I told them you belong with me.”
Color rises in her cheeks, eyes shining like she’s trying hard not to cry. “Blade…”
I cup her jaw gently, thumb brushing the curve of her cheekbone. Soft. Reverent. Because she deserves that.
“And I’m gonna put my patch on you soon,” I murmur, voice right against her lips. “Every man in this town’s gonna know exactly who you are.”
“Yours,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Mine.”
I kiss her then. Not rushed. Not frantic. A slow, deep slide of lips that feels like a vow. Her hands go to my chest, then up around my neck, pulling me closer like she needs me inside her skin.
I walk her backward, never breaking the kiss, until her back meets the wall. My hands slide down to her hips, gripping tighter. “You sure you’re ready for what that means?” I ask against her mouth. “Because I don’t half-love anything.”
Her eyes are dark and sure and blazing. “I don’t want half of you. I want all of it.”
I smile. Dangerous. Certain. Gone. “Good,” I say, my forehead against hers, breath shaking because of how much I fucking love this woman. “Because you already have all of me.”
I lift her thigh up higher on my hip and she gasps into the kiss. My other hand presses at the small of her back, bringing her flush against me, right where she fits.
“I’m claiming every piece of you,” I rasp. “Not just in front of the club.” I kiss her jaw, her neck, her pulse. “Right here.” Another kiss, lower. “Right now.”
She lets out the softest sound, one that shoots straight through my spine.
And I swear I get light-headed from how lucky I am.
Her breath is shaky against my mouth. “Claim me then.”
Yeah. That does it.
I turn her gently, guiding her backward until her hips meet the wall. I press my body into hers slow, letting her feel every hard inch of me. My hands bracket her waist, sliding up under that oversized sweater like I’m unwrapping something precious.
“You thinking I just meant words tonight?” I ask, lips brushing her throat. “You thinking I claimed you at church and that was enough?”
She swallows hard, back arching into my touch. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Baby.” I lift her chin so she has to look right at me. My voice drops low. “I meant every word, but I’m not done. Not even close.”
My fingers trail up her ribs, thumbs grazing the underside of her breasts. She sucks in a breath and I smile because I own that sound now.
“You are my old lady,” I say, brushing her lips with mine. “Meaning I protect you, I ride with you, I put you first. You get every part of me. Every part of my fucking life.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, knuckles white. “Blade…”
“And in return,” I murmur, my hand sliding down to grip the curve of her hip tight, “you wear my touch everywhere you go. Anyone looks at you too long, they remember who put their hands on you first. Who gets to touch you always.”
Her knees press together and I step between them, pushing them apart again. Gentle. Firm. Owning. She lets me.
“You like that?” I ask, my voice dipping into a growl. “You like being mine?”
She nods, eyes dark with need. “Yes.”
“That’s not enough.” I kiss her hard, stealing her breath. When I pull back, she’s panting. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she whispers.
I shake my head slowly. “No. Say it like you mean it.”
Her nails scrape down my chest and she breathes the words like a prayer. “I’m yours, Blade. Only yours.”
“Good girl.”
Her thighs tense around me at that. I feel it. I feel her.
And I lose whatever restraint I had left.
I hook my hand behind her thigh and lift, her leg wrapping around my hip. My mouth drags along her jaw. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” I promise. “So if some asshole even thinks he has a chance, you’ll laugh in his face.”
She moans, soft and needy, and it lights me up. My fingers push the sweater higher. Skin. Heat. Perfection.
“One more thing,” I breathe into her ear. “From now on, when people look at you, they’ll know.”
She shivers. “Know what?”
“That you’re taken.” I kiss her collarbone. “Marked.” My hand spreads over her stomach. “Loved.”
She gasps at that last word and I feel the way it hits her. Deep. Real. I look her in the eyes so she sees the truth in mine. “I love you. I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
Her whole body melts into me like her soul just unclenched. “I love you too,” she whispers.
My smile is slow and hungry. “Good.” I lift her fully into my arms and she squeaks, grabbing onto me. “Then let me show you exactly what that means.”
I carry her toward the bedroom, her legs tight around my waist, her lips on my neck, both of us breathing like we’re sprinting straight into something life-changing.