Chapter 8 - Olivia
My trembling fingers fumble with my bra clasp as I watch Tyler peer through the peephole. The door rattles with each of Devin's angry blows, and I can't help but think that he's like a horror movie villain. Never truly gone, always finding me no matter where I hide.
Just minutes ago, I was experiencing the most intense pleasure of my life in Tyler's arms. Now fear courses through my veins, making my heart pound for an entirely different reason. I pull on my jeans, nearly falling over in my haste.
"How many?" I whisper, tugging my sweater over my head.
"Four," Tyler answers, his voice eerily calm. "Devin, his brother, and two others. Probably from his shop."
My stomach drops. "Four against one? Tyler, we need to call the police."
He turns to look at me, and what I see in his expression sends a chill down my spine. There's no fear there. Only cold, calculated focus. The soldier has fully emerged.
"No time," he says. "Stay back from the windows and door. If something happens to me, lock yourself in the bathroom and call this number." He quickly scribbles a phone number on the motel notepad. "Ask for Reaper. Tell him what happened."
"Tyler, please don't—"
Before I can finish, he's opening the door and stepping outside, pulling it shut behind him. I rush to the peephole, desperate to see what's happening.
Tyler stands in a relaxed posture that somehow radiates menace, facing the four men.
Devin's face is still crusted with dried blood from their earlier encounter, his eyes wild with rage and probably alcohol.
Behind him, I recognize Mike and Drew from the auto shop, and Sam, Devin's brother.
They share the same nose and jawline, though Sam is broader and burlier.
"Four of you against one of me?" Tyler's voice carries clearly through the door. "Not very sporting."
"Fuck you," Devin spits. "You humiliated me. Broke my fucking nose."
"You pulled a knife," Tyler responds evenly. "You're lucky that's all I broke."
"Where's my girlfriend?" Devin demands, trying to peer around Tyler at the motel room door.
"She's not your girlfriend anymore," Tyler says. "She made that pretty clear. Now walk away before this gets ugly."
Sam steps forward, cracking his knuckles. "Nobody does this to my brother and walks away, asshole."
"Last warning," Tyler says, shifting his stance slightly. "Leave now, while you still can."
"Get him!" Devin shouts, and everything explodes into motion.
Sam charges first, but Tyler sidesteps, driving an elbow into the larger man's kidney as he passes. Mike and Drew rush in together, trying to flank him. Tyler moves, landing a brutal punch to Mike's throat that drops him gagging to the ground before spinning to block Drew's wild haymaker.
It's like watching a deadly dance. Three against one, yet Tyler seems to anticipate every move before it happens, always a step ahead, always in control. Sam recovers and lunges again, but Tyler delivers a vicious kick to his knee that makes a sickening crack. Sam goes down howling.
But then Devin, who's been hanging back, sees an opening.
He darts forward and delivers a savage blow directly to Tyler's bad leg, the one with the scar.
I see Tyler's face contort with pain as his leg buckles.
He drops to one knee, and Drew immediately capitalizes, landing a solid punch to Tyler's jaw.
"No!" I scream, yanking open the door. I'm not thinking clearly, only knowing that I need to help him, that I can't let him be hurt because of me.
Before I can rush out, something unexpected happens. A massive motorcycle roars into the parking lot, screeching to a halt. Its rider, a huge man with a thick beard and the same leather cut as Tyler, dismounts and charges toward the fight like a raging bull.
Without hesitation, the newcomer grabs Drew by the collar and delivers a punch so powerful that I hear the impact from where I stand.
Drew crumples to the ground, unconscious before he hits the pavement.
Mike, who had just regained his feet, takes one look at the mountain of a man and tries to run, but he doesn't get far.
The bearded giant catches him by the back of the shirt and slams him face-first into a parked car.
"You okay, Hawk?" the massive man asks, extending a hand to help Tyler up.
Tyler nods, accepting the assistance. "Thanks for the save, Knight. What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Reaper sent me," Knight replies, keeping a wary eye on Devin, who's backed up against a wall, eyes wide with fear.
"Said when I told him I was doing research for you, he got a bad feeling.
Told me to haul ass over here and make sure you weren't getting yourself into something you couldn't handle alone. Call it a Christmas Miracle."
"Good timing," Tyler acknowledges, testing his weight on his injured leg.
Devin, seeing his backup neutralized, tries to make a break for it, but Knight moves with surprising speed for his size, cutting off his escape route.
"Where you going, asshole?" Knight growls. "We're just getting acquainted."
"This isn't over," Devin snarls, though his bravado is clearly forced. "You can't watch her forever."
Tyler limps forward, his face darkening with fury. "Actually, it is over. And I'm done playing nice."
What happens next unfolds so quickly I can barely process it. Tyler grabs Devin by the throat, slamming him against the wall of the motel. With his free hand, he pulls out his knife, pressing the tip under Devin's chin hard enough to draw a single bead of blood.
"Listen carefully," Tyler says, his voice so low I have to strain to hear it. "If you ever come near her again, if you call her, text her, even say her fucking name, I will end you. And it won't be quick."
Devin's eyes bulge with terror as the knife presses harder. "You wouldn't—"
"I've killed men for less," Tyler cuts him off, and something in his tone tells me it's not an empty threat. "Men better than you. In ways that would give you nightmares for the rest of your pathetic life. So, test me. Please."
I watch, frozen in the doorway, as Devin's face drains of all color. Whatever he sees in Tyler's eyes convinces him that the threat is real.
"Okay," Devin gasps. "Okay. I'll leave her alone. I swear."
Tyler holds the knife in place for one more heartbeat, then steps back, releasing him. "Good choice. Now get the fuck out of here. Take your friends with you."
Devin doesn't need to be told twice. He stumbles to his brother, who's still clutching his ruined knee, and helps him to his feet. Mike is conscious again, though dazed, and together they manage to drag the still-unconscious Drew to Devin's truck.
As they drive away, I finally step fully outside, my legs shaky. Tyler turns to me, his expression softening instantly.
"You okay?" he asks, reaching for me.
I nod, unable to find my voice as I step into his embrace. Over Tyler's shoulder, I get my first good look at Knight. He's easily six-four, with arms the size of my thighs. Despite his intimidating appearance, his eyes are surprisingly kind as they meet mine.
"So, you're the famous Olivia," he says, his deep voice gentler than I would have expected. "Hawk's talked about you."
I glance up at Tyler in confusion. "Hawk?"
Tyler looks slightly embarrassed. "My road name in the club. For my ability to see the battlefield, plan strategy."
"It fits," I say, thinking of how he'd handled three attackers by himself.
"We should get inside," Tyler says, glancing around the parking lot. "In case they decide to come back with reinforcements."
Knight nods in agreement. "I'll stand watch. Make some calls. Let Reaper know the situation."
Once back in the room, Tyler immediately checks me over, his hands gentle as they cup my face. "Are you sure you're okay? You shouldn't have opened that door."
"I thought they were going to kill you," I say, my voice finally returning. "Four against one—"
"I've had worse odds," he says with a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "But I appreciate the concern."
I look toward the door, where Knight's silhouette is visible through the thin curtains as he paces outside, phone to his ear. "Your friend... he just showed up at the perfect moment."
Tyler nods, sinking onto the edge of the bed and stretching out his bad leg with a wince. "Knight's good people. One of the best men I know."
"He looks scary," I confess.
That earns me a genuine laugh. "Yeah, he is. But he's also the gentlest soul in the club unless you threaten someone he cares about. Then..." He trails off, shrugging.
"Then he breaks people's faces against car doors," I finish for him, still processing what I witnessed.
"Something like that." Tyler's expression grows serious again. "Liv, what you saw out there—"
"You were going to kill him," I say quietly, the realization settling over me like a cold blanket. "You would have killed Devin if he hadn't backed down."
Tyler doesn't deny it. "If that's what it took to keep you safe? Yes."
I should be horrified by his admission. Instead, I find myself feeling strangely... protected. Safe in a way I haven't felt since my father died. "The things you said about killing men—"
"Were true," he finishes for me, his eyes holding mine steadily. "I'm not the same person who left Hope Peak all those years ago, Liv. You know that. I've done things... things I'm not proud of, both in the war and since. I need you to understand that."
I sit beside him on the bed, taking his hand in mine. "The core of who you are hasn't changed, Tyler. You still protect what you care about. You still put others before yourself." I squeeze his hand. "That's the man I fell in love with. That's the man… I still love."
His eyes widen slightly at my declaration. "Love?"