Raven
Dad’s at the kitchen table, half drinking, half ignoring a cup of coffee, eyes locked on his phone when I walk through the door. His posture is too relaxed. His expression unreadable. Like he’s been waiting.
For me.
“Back already?” he asks.
My heart trips, but I force a shrug. “Katie got called into work when we were only a few stores in.”
Dad’s mouth twitches, but it’s not amusement. “Funny. You don’t have any bags.”
“I didn’t buy anything. Shopping alone sucks.”
“Uh-huh.”
His stare pins me in place. He’s always been able to read me too easily.
I move past him toward the stairs, but before I clear the table, Dad’s hand reaches out, gentle but deliberate, and plucks something from my hair.
A deep green and unmistakably out-of-place leaf.
My stomach drops straight through the floor.
He studies the leaf like it holds answers I shouldn’t have given him. Slowly, his gaze lifts to mine. “Interesting place to find one of these,” he says quietly.
My throat goes tight. “The wind’s crazy outside.”
He holds my gaze.
Unblinking.
Unmoving.
Unconvinced.
“You were asking about Wolf this morning,” he says, voice too casual to actually be casual. “Any chance you two ran into each other today?”
“No.” The lie comes too fast.
His brows lift a fraction. “It’s dangerous out near Miller’s land.” His voice is eerily calm. “Too many old buildings that are ready to fall apart. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
My pulse punches against my ribs.
He knows.
But he doesn’t press. Doesn’t accuse.
“It’s not safe for you to be wandering off by yourself,” he says. There’s no anger in it, just concern thick enough to choke on. “Not with everything the club’s dealing with right now.”
My stomach twists. “I wasn’t—”
He cuts me off with a look. “If you need to go somewhere, you tell me. Or Knox.” His eyes soften in that way he reserves for me and me alone. “Be smart, Raven.”
I nod because it’s the only thing I can do. Because if I speak, the lie will shatter.
Dad sets the leaf on the table like he’s setting down evidence.
“Go on,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
But even as I turn toward the stairs, I can feel his gaze on me—quiet, suspicious, patient.
Dad never pushes. He waits and watches, piecing things together one detail at a time.
By the time I reach my room and shut the door behind me, my pulse is thudding in my ears, and a tight, uneasy knot coils in my stomach.
I sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling just enough to make my phone slip when I unlock it.
ME: Did you see anything weird when you were leaving? Like footprints or any sign that someone was nearby?
I stare at the message on the screen, chewing my lip, then hit send before I lose my nerve.
The three dots appear immediately.
SAMUEL: Why? What happened?
My stomach twists.
ME: Just answer me. Please.
SAMUEL: Just the normal shit. Why are you asking? Are you alright?
My throat tightens.
Because I don’t know if I am.
I type slowly this time, fingers trembling.
ME: I don’t know.
My finger barely leaves the screen after sending the text when the phone vibrates in my hand.
Samuel’s name flashes across the display. My heart jumps into my throat. I glance at the door, even though it's closed, and answer in a whisper.
“Sam?”
His voice comes through too steady to be anything but forced. “Tell me what happened.”
“I—I don’t know exactly.” I swallow hard. “Dad was just off.”
“Raven,” he murmurs finally, “why?”
“He asked me if I bumped into you while I was out.” My voice cracks, and I press my free hand to my stomach. “And he pulled a leaf from my hair.”
“There are leaves everywhere in this town.”
“It was a Black Walnut tree leaf,” I say, barely getting the words out.
A breath hisses through the speaker. Not from fear, but fury that he’s trying to leash.
“He thought I was out walking alone,” I say, the words trembling as they leave my lips. “He told me I shouldn’t be. Not with everything going on.”
“Was he waiting when you got home?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
I hear him moving—footsteps, the creak of his bed frame. The sound of a zipper. He’s pacing. Probably shoving his things into his pockets.
“Sam,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”
“Coming to you.”
“No.” I stand, panic threading through my chest. “You can’t. He’s still downstairs—”
“I don’t give a damn who’s downstairs,” he snaps softly, like he’s trying not to raise his voice, but I can hear the storm under every word. “If he followed you, if he thinks something’s wrong, if he even suspects—”
“He doesn’t know.”
“You don’t know that.”
Neither of us speaks for a long moment.
Then his voice softens, breaking at the edges. “Raven, sweetheart, if he followed you out there, he’s not going to let this go.”
I press my hand to my forehead, trying to breathe. “What do we do?”
He exhales sharply, like he’s tearing himself in two. “You stay put. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t leave the house. And don’t talk to anyone until I figure this out.”
“Sam—”
“I mean it.” His tone goes firm, protective in a way that sends a shiver up my spine. “I’ll come get you tonight if I have to.”
A creak sounds faintly from downstairs. Dad’s chair shifting.
“I have to go,” I whisper urgently.
“Call me if anything feels off. Anything.” He pauses. “Raven, I swear to God, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His voice is a low promise.
A threat.
A vow.
I end the call, pulse hammering, and sit very still on the edge of my bed.
Because the truth is suddenly terrifyingly clear.
Someone’s going to find out.
And when they do, everything will change.
Another floorboard creaks downstairs. I hold my breath, listening. Dad’s still moving around the kitchen. Slow. Purposeful. Like a man thinking too hard about something he hasn’t said yet.
My phone buzzes again.
Samuel: Lock your door. Don’t argue.
My fingers shake as I slide the lock into place and press my forehead to the cool wood. I breathe until the panic stops clawing at my ribs.
I shouldn’t be scared.
But I am.
Because this isn’t just about being caught sneaking around with a guy.
This is about being caught sneaking around with him.
My brother’s best friend.
A patched member of the MC.
A man the club trusts with blood, secrets, and violence.
A man I love more than I should.
I back away from the door and sink onto my bed, clutching my phone like it’s the only solid thing in the universe.
And all I can hear, louder than my heartbeat, louder than my fear, is Samuel’s voice in my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The words stay with me long after the call ends.
So does the question of whether he'll have to prove them.