Chapter 12 #2
His jaw tightens. “You handled—” He shakes his head in disbelief. “What do you mean you handled one?”
“I knocked him out with a fire extinguisher.”
Cruz stifles a laugh at that.
“You fought them?” Rook says, utterly flabbergasted. He repeats it slowly, as if he can’t quite understand it. “You went into Briggs’ office, alone, at night, and picked a fight?”
“I didn’t pick it,” I say coldly. “They were waiting. I had no choice but to defend myself.”
“And what would you have done about the other two if Boone hadn’t shown up?”
I don’t respond because they’re right. If Boone hadn’t arrived at that moment, god knows what would have happened.
Rook looks at me, his expression pained. “They could have killed you.”
I can’t expect them to be honest with me if I’m not with them. “I know, I was stupid and reckless, but Boone got me out.”
Rook’s anger doesn’t abate. “And that’s it? No harm done? Briggs will know you were both there. You could have been injured or worse, and now we’ve lost any upper hand we might have had because Briggs knows we’re onto him.”
Boone shifts slightly, wincing. Cruz spots it, strides over, and lifts his shirt to reveal the bandages. “No harm done, my ass.” He glares over at me. “You could have gotten both of you killed.”
I hang my head in shame. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Cruz lets out a bitter laugh. “Sorry, wouldn’t change a damn thing. If we lost you…” His voice chokes up, and he can’t continue. I desperately want to go to him, to hug him and say how sorry I am; I can’t stop now, not until the truth is fully out on the table.
I glance at Boone, silently seeking his support. “I know, I fucked up. That’s not all I did.” I take a breath, ready to confess that I kissed Boone, that he did the honorable thing.
Boone’s jaw flexes once. “We kissed,” he says, before I can speak, taking the fall.
Everything snaps. Rook moves first, fast enough that the chair behind him scrapes violently against the floor. Cruz steps forward at the same time, tension exploding outward like a live wire.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Cruz says, voice low and dangerous.
Rook’s eyes are locked on Boone now, cold and furious—the air shifts from tense to violent in a heartbeat. Rook steps forward like he’s about to swing, but Boone doesn’t back down; he doesn’t even change posture, which only makes it worse.
I step forward immediately, placing myself between them before this turns physical. “Stop.” No one listens. “Stop!” My voice cracks through the room, sharp enough to cut through, barely, but it’s enough. The tension doesn’t disappear. It just pauses.
The men breathe heavily, eyes locked as they glower at each other, fists clenched.
“This is exactly the problem,” I say, my own voice tighter now, frustration bleeding through. “You’re acting like I’m some prize to fight over. Like, I don’t get a say in anything.”
“That’s not—” Rook starts.
“It is,” I cut him off. I turn, looking at each of them in turn.
Rook, rigid, controlled fury barely contained. Cruz, tense, restless, jaw set. Boone, still, but no longer calm.
“You told me this is how your world works,” I say. “That you share. That nothing here is simple. That you all want me.”
“That doesn’t mean—” Cruz begins.
“Then what does it mean?” I fire back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like three grown men acting like dogs fighting over a bone.” I continue, voice steady but sharper now, “You seem like three men who don’t actually know what they want, they just want to win.”
My words hit them like a slap. No one speaks. The room feels smaller, hotter, and claustrophobic.
“I do,” I say slowly. Their attention snaps back to me. “I want all of you.” The words hang there, heavy, unavoidable, and true.
Cruz exhales slowly. Rook doesn’t move. Boone’s eyes stay on me, steady and unreadable.
“I’m not confused about that,” I continue.
“I’m not unsure, I’m not experimenting, or just having some fun, and I’m not going to pretend this is something it isn’t to me.
” My heart is pounding now, but my voice stays level.
“This only works, we only work, if you stop acting like you’re in competition. ”
Rook’s jaw tightens. “You think this is that simple?”
“No,” I say. “I think it’s that necessary.” I take a breath and lay it out. “Either all of you can have me,” I say clearly, “or none of you will.”
That lands like a punch. Cruz’s head tilts slightly, processing. Boone doesn’t move. But his brow furrows in consideration. Rook’s gaze sharpens.
“You don’t get to fight over me,” I continue. “You don’t get to turn this into something that breaks what you already have. I’m not going to be the reason this club fractures,” I say. “I’m not going to be the thing that comes between you.”
“You’re not—” Rook starts.
“I am,” I interrupt. “Whether you like it or not.”
“And if we don’t agree?” Rook asks quietly.
I meet his eyes. “Then I leave.”
Silence. “You wouldn’t,” Rook says. He knows the stakes, knows why I came here in the first place.
“I would,” I reply. “I will take Jessy and go into witness protection.”
“No,” Rook says, the word coming out sharp and firm.
Cruz swears under his breath. Boone shifts closer.
“You said you would never—” Cruz starts.
“I said I didn’t trust it,” I correct. “Not that I wouldn’t do it if I had to.” The weight of that settles over all of us. “I’m not staying here to watch the three of you destroy each other over me,” I say. “That’s not happening.”
No one speaks. For a long moment, the only sound in the room is breathing. “Fuck,” Cruz mutters.
Rook looks at him, then at Boone, then back at me. Something between them shifts; the anger isn’t gone, it’s not resolved, but realigned, put into perspective. “You’d leave,” he says.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. No one argues, because they know I mean it.
Rook studies me, his gaze intense like he’s trying to find a crack in my defense. There isn’t one. Finally, he exhales slowly. “We’re not losing you,” he says.
Cruz nods once. “Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s not an option.”
Boone steps closer, his presence solid at my side. No words, he doesn’t need to say anything for me to know he agrees.
The tension doesn’t disappear or magically fix itself, but it changes from something that could break to something that might hold if we’re careful. If we’re honest. I look at all three of them. “This only works if we choose it,” I say quietly.
Not forced or assumed, or contractually agreed, but chosen.
The guys nod in agreement. “No more secrets,” Rook says, and I know he is a man of his word, that he won’t leave me in the dark anymore, so neither will I.
“Just honesty,” I agree.
For the first time, I feel like this might actually work.