Chapter Twenty-Four
Demi
We hadn’t slept.
Neither of us had even tried.
I had my truth known, and Werewolf had his freedom.
Now all we had was each other.
Werewolf’s bike sat parked outside the old gas station at the edge of town. He leaned against the pump with his arms crossed, head tipped back toward the sky like he was trying to remember how to breathe. His cut was gone—just a plain black hoodie now.
I stood beside him, holding a paper cup of coffee from the station’s machine. It tasted like burnt dirt, but it was hot, and that let me know I wasn’t completely numb.
“You sure you want to go there?” he asked.
“I have to,” I said. I glanced up at him. “You don’t.”
He looked at me then, tired but steady. “I do.”
We made the ten-minute drive through town.
The cemetery sat at the edge of the woods behind a row of crooked iron fencing. The morning fog still clung low to the ground and curled around the stones.
I found Tyler’s grave halfway down the row. The grass was wet, and the soil still new enough to squish under my boots.
For a long minute, I couldn’t say anything. The silence felt too thick.
Werewolf stood a few feet behind me and let me have the space. His presence was a quiet weight that was solid and safe.
I kneeled in front of the tombstone and wiped the dew from the engraved letters.
“I got him, Tyler,” I whispered. “It’s done.”
The wind moved through the trees with a low hum like an answer.
I swallowed hard. “You were right. About everything. The club, the shipments, the rot underneath it all. They said you were a rat, but you were just trying to tell the truth.” My voice broke. “You were just doing what was right. It’s okay.”
I felt Werewolf come closer. His hand brushed my shoulder, warm and heavy.
“They’ll never say your name again,” I said. “Not in that clubhouse. Not like before. But I will. I’ll remember.”
Werewolf’s voice was low. “He was a good man.”
“He was my brother,” I said. “And they took him from me.”
He crouched beside me and looked at the grave. “You got justice for him, Demi.”
“Do we call it that?”
He hesitated. “It’s as close as you’ll get.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “What happens now?”
He stood and offered me his hand. “Let’s see where the road takes us.”
-
We drove with no destination.
I watched the world blur past: old barns, rusted mailboxes, a field of pumpkins left to rot after the harvest. Halloween decorations still dangled from porches even though the day had already passed. Ghosts that didn’t know the party was over.
Neither of us spoke much. We didn’t need to. The sound of the wind filled the spaces where words couldn’t reach.
After a while, I leaned forward and rested my cheek against his back. I felt the steady rhythm of his breathing under his hoodie. It wasn’t peace, not yet, but it was something close.
We stopped just before sunset at a rundown motel off the highway. The sign flickered “VAC NCY” in half-dead neon.
Inside, the room smelled like dust and cheap soap. One bed. A cracked mirror. A small table with a Bible in the drawer that probably hadn’t been opened in years.
I kicked off my boots and sank onto the bed. “Home sweet home for the night,” I said quietly. We both knew we needed to go back home to at least pack up my apartment, but right now just driving felt right.
Werewolf dropped his keys on the nightstand and leaned against the door. “Better than a clubhouse full of ghosts.”
I smiled softly. “That’s true.”
He watched me for a long moment before saying, “You know we’re going to have to go back. At least long enough to tie up loose ends.”
“I know. But not tonight. Tonight I just want you and this dusty, musty motel room.”
“It’s more than enough for me,” he said.
He crossed the room, sat beside me, and took my hand. The silence between us wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. It felt right.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “You don’t have to keep running, Demi.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m choosing. I want to live whatever life I want in honor of Tyler. He wanted out of that town for a long time, and he never got to leave.”
He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “So what are you choosing?”
I turned my hand and laced my fingers through his. “You.”
His breath hitched, and for the first time since last night, a real smile tugged at his mouth.
His hands found my face, and his thumbs brushed the corners of my mouth as if he needed to feel me breathe. His lips found mine and I closed my eyes. His kiss deepened into a slow burn that drew the air right out of the room.
My fingers slid up his neck and pulled him closer until every breath belonged to both of us.
Our clothes fell away piece by piece until there was nothing left but heat and the sound of our breathing.
He laid me back on the bed and hovered for a heartbeat while his eyes searched mine for the smallest hint of doubt. There wasn’t any.
“You’re mine,” he whispered.
“Claimed by Werewolf,” I laughed.
He leaned down and pressed a hot, searing kiss to my lips. “Damn fucking straight, babe. You’re good with that, right?” he murmured, voice low, rough.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m more than good with that.”
Tomorrow, we’d decide where to go. Tomorrow, we’d talk about what it meant to start over.
But tonight, for the first time in a long time, neither of us were haunted by ghosts.
We were free.