Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LEVI
The kitchen feels unusually quiet as I lean against the counter, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the silence. Outside, Sasha’s talking to Owen—the low murmur of her voice drifts through the open window. The cool air brushes across my skin, but my thoughts are still tangled in the mess of the night—Stone, Sasha, Flynn—and the uneasy tension clinging to all of it.
I should be thinking ahead, figuring out our next move. But all I can focus on is Stone.
Stone.
I glance at Sasha through the kitchen door. She's talking on the phone, her voice soft, but I can see the slight crease in her brow. It's clear she’s still processing everything, still caught in the whirlwind of the day’s events.
Stone’s an enigma—professional, controlled, with enough power in his blood to make things complicated. But from the look in his eyes tonight, he’s not what I thought. He’s not a threat, but a piece of something bigger. Something we could use.
I pull out my phone, dialing my brother’s number. The only person I know who might have the insight I need right now. As the phone rings, I try to quiet my thoughts, focus on the conversation ahead, but my pulse is still racing.
The phone clicks, and Dexter’s voice comes through, rough and gritty from whatever he’s dealing with. "Levi. What’s up?"
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I need more info on Stone. Is he someone we can bring into this? Can we trust him?"
There’s a long sigh on the other end, like Dexter’s running his hand over his face. I hear him shift, probably leaning back in his chair, his tone growing more familiar, more knowing. "Stone's not a threat, Levi. Not in the way you're thinking. Yeah, he's got connections, but he’s more about making amends than making problems. Trained officer, alpha blood—he’s got the skills. But he’s not out to screw you over. Hell, he might be someone you can bring into this whole thing. But you’re gonna have to stop being such an uptight dick and actually trust the guy."
I take a deep breath, his words settling over me. I’d been reading Stone all wrong—assuming he was a loose cannon, someone who’d bring us nothing but trouble. But Dexter's right. Stone’s not here to tear us apart. He’s not the villain I thought he was. He’s... another piece of the puzzle.
"Got it," I say, rubbing a hand across my jaw. "Thanks, bro."
Just as I’m about to hang up, my phone vibrates in my hand. Look at the screen, it’s a text from Stone.
Stone: Won’t be back tonight. Got a few things to pack up and talk to my landlord. Tomorrow, though.
I pocket my phone, then glance back at Sasha. She’s stepping inside and gives me a small, cautious smile, the kind of smile she only gives when she’s unsure of what’s about to come next. Her eyes are shining, and I can see the quiet tension still tight around her, but her voice is steady when she speaks.
"Everything good?"
I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just called Dexter to get some of that big brother advice."
Her eyes narrow, and she tilts her head, not buying it for a second. "You okay?" she asks softly, taking a step closer, the vulnerability in her voice making my chest tighten.
I look at her, really look at her, and suddenly it all makes sense. The way her posture softened after the phone call. The concern that lingers in her gaze. She's carrying some of this weight too, even if she's trying to hide it. And I hate it. I don't want her to carry any of it.
"I’m good," I finally say, my voice low, but there’s an edge of weariness in it that I can't mask. "What about you?"
She shrugs, a half-hearted attempt at being casual. "I’m good too. I called Owen... You were right. He shed a lot of light and common sense on what’s happening."
I pull her into me then, wrapping my arms around her, holding her close. There's something about the way she melts into me, the way her body fits so perfectly against mine, that makes me feel like we can survive anything—anything except being apart.
We move through the motions of shutting down for the night, but it feels like we're still operating on autopilot, our bodies on familiar paths but our minds still back in that conversation we just had. I walk with her toward the back door, making sure it’s locked before we both slip out of our shoes and head upstairs. The soft sound of our footsteps on the wooden floor is the only sound as we move through the house, clicking off lights along the way—one by one.
I reach out, my hand finding hers as we walk toward our bedroom. The bed is still unmade, but neither of us cares. It’s the end of the day, and that’s enough. I slide under the covers, pulling her toward me as I make myself comfortable. She follows without hesitation, her body fitting seamlessly against mine. The warmth of her skin against mine is the balm I didn’t realize I needed.
For a while, there’s nothing but the rhythm of our breathing—slow, steady.
"You think it’ll be okay?" she asks into the dark, her voice quiet.
"Yeah," I murmur, brushing a hand through her hair, my fingers tracing the outline of her ear. "I think it will be."
I feel her body relax against me, her breath deepening as sleep starts to claim her. And I know I’m not far behind.
We fall asleep like that—cuddled close, the chaos of the night fading into the background.
* * *
The morning light is just beginning to peek through the curtains, casting soft golden lines across the floor. I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, running my hand through my hair, the weight of the day already pressing down on me.
Sasha’s still asleep, her body curled under the covers, soft and relaxed. I can feel her warmth from across the room, and it makes my chest tighten. I don’t want to leave her—not today, not ever. But I have to. Prez called church and I have to go.
I glance over at Sasha again, her chest rising and falling with the peacefulness of sleep. I swallow hard, step away from the mirror, and walk over to the bed. I kneel beside her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face, taking in her scent. She stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open.
“Levi?” she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips as she stretches.
I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. ‘Hey, Brat. I need to talk to you for a second.
She sits up slightly, rubbing her eyes, the morning fog still clouding her thoughts. “What’s up?” Her voice is thick with concern, like she already knows something’s off.
“I have to go out for a bit,” I say, my tone softer than I intended. “Gears called church. So I gotta go. Stone said he’d be around today, but I wanna make sure you’re good if he shows up.”
Sasha blinks at me, the concern deepening in her gaze. I can see the questions bubbling up behind her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything right away. She just watches me, studying me like she’s trying to gauge whether I’m being serious or if I’m just saying things to make her feel better.
“I’m good,” she says after a long pause, her voice steady but still laced with a hint of worry. “You’re the one I’m worried about. Last-minute church isn’t normal.”
“You’re right. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. But just in case... here.” I reach under the bed and pull out the gun I’ve been keeping stashed there. It’s a simple, reliable piece—nothing flashy, just something that’ll keep her safe if things go sideways.
Her eyes flick to the gun, then back to me. There’s no fear in her gaze, just the quiet understanding that this is what our life has become.
“I’ll be fine,” she says again, her voice soft but unwavering. “Just... be careful, okay?”
I nod, pulling her close for a long, lingering kiss. It’s all the words we don’t say, all the weight of everything pressing in between us. She doesn’t need to say anything else. I know she’s worried, but I also know she’ll handle it, even if it’s hard for her.
I break the kiss slowly, pressing my forehead to hers for a moment. “I’ll be back before you know it. And if Stone gives you issues… shoot him.”
Sasha watches me as I stand. She nods once, and I turn away, grabbing my cut from the back of the chair.
I walk off the porch and head toward my bike, then glance back. She’s already standing in the doorway, the gun hidden under her robe. Her shoulders are tense, but there’s something strong in the way she stands. It makes me feel weirdly better. She’s not just doing this for me—she’s with me. She’s not scared. And I notice that. I can’t not.
I swing my leg over and settle into the seat. The engine rumbles to life, and I pull away from the house, my mind already racing toward the compound.
The clubhouse is still when I pull in—just the way I like it at this hour. I kill the engine and swing off the bike, the gravel crunching under my boots as I head toward the door. But as I get closer, I catch the low hum of voices inside. So much for quiet.
I push the door open, the familiar scent of beer, leather, and dust greeting me like an old friend. The room is low-lit, worn from years of use, but still solid. I make my way toward the back, where the president, the vice president, and enforcers usually gather. I sit down in a chair at the table and run my hands over my face.
Minutes pass. The sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the shuffle of boots on the floor fade away in my mind. My phone buzzes in my pocket, the vibration breaking the spell of quiet. I pull it out and see a message from Sasha.
Sasha: Don’t worry about me—I’ll be fine. I’ve got the toy you gave me, and I might just poke Stone with my friend from last night just to be safe.
I can’t help but smile at her response. She’s tougher than anyone gives her credit for. I’m not worried about her. At least, not with her preparation. But I can’t stop thinking about what’s coming, how Stone joining us is going to shake things up. Still, I need to be here, to keep things together, and figure out how to protect what’s mine.
I get up and walk over to the bar, pouring myself a drink. The burn of whiskey slides down my throat, leaving a trail of warmth behind. I walk back towards the table, where the president and the rest of the club’s leadership have finally gathered around. They look at me when I sit down, but no one says anything.
Finally, Gears bangs the gavel, and the room goes quiet. “I called this emergency church to tell y’all we’re goin’ on lockdown.”
The club’s voices raise in anger and a smidge of panic flows through the group.
“Quiet!” Acid shouts.
“I know this isn’t what any of us wanted. But as you all know Arrow, Acid, and I have an old lady now. A Kismet. Her past has come back, and it’s biting us all in the ass,” Gears tells us.
“I can’t stay here. I’ll go on lockdown, but not here,” I murmur.
Gears is the first to respond. “What the hell, Levi? You think you can just leave while we’re in lockdown?” His voice is sharp, cutting through the air with an edge I’m used to.
“I can’t stay here today,” I reply, my voice calm, though I feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “I’ve got things I need to take care of. It’s personal.”
The room goes still. The vice president, Arrow, eyes me carefully. “Personal? We’re starting a lockdown, and you’re talking about stepping out? You think we can just ignore the rules?”
I look him dead in the eyes, not backing down. “This isn’t just about the club. It’s about what’s coming. I’ve got my own mess to handle.”
Gears leans forward, his hands steepled in front of him, his knuckles cracking and dominance lacing his tone. “We all got messes, Levi. That’s why we’ve got rules. That’s why we have each other.”
I take a breath, steadying myself. “I’ve got some things I need to explain. And I’m not here to ask permission.”
Gears’ eyebrow arches, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “Go on, then.”
“Sasha and I... we’re bonded,” I start, watching their reactions as that sinks in. “But that’s not all. Sasha has recently discovered she has hobbies that are similar to your old lady’s.”
Gears’, Arrow’s, and Acid’s eyes widen knowingly.
“Said hobbies took us on a little adventure where I learned I have a Kismet omega, who is male. He’s also Kismet to an ex-cop… oh, and he’s being held against his will with the Carlisle Pack.”
Murmurs ripple through the room. I push forward, ignoring the way the air thickens with shock and anger.
“I can’t ignore it. I have to get him out of there. And that means I can’t stay here today.”
Gears lets out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he processes what I’ve just said. Arrow, on the other hand, leans back in his chair, a skeptical look flickering across his face.
“You’re telling us you’ve finally bonded your old lady, and then got yourself a Kismet omega that you and an ex-cop have to rescue from Carlisle?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. This isn’t just about the club right now. It’s personal, and I can’t let it go.”
For a moment, silence stretches in the room as everyone exchanges uneasy glances. Then, the enforcer, Acid, speaks up, his voice slow but thoughtful.
“Kismet bond… that’s no small thing,” he mutters, scratching his chin. “If he’s as tied to you as you say, you’d be risking more by ignoring it than by handling it.”
“Exactly. Ignoring it isn’t an option.”
Gears sighs. “So, what do you need from us?”
“I need the club’s understanding. And trust that I’ll handle this while keeping you updated. I know I’m pushing against the rules, but if I don’t go now, I’m putting him—and Sasha—in even more danger.”
Gears exchanges a long look with the other officers. Then he nods, his expression softening just a bit. “You’re loyal to us, Levi. And we’re not heartless. If this is what it takes to keep your bonds safe, then go. But you keep us informed. Every move. Any issues, I want to know.”
“Understood,” I say, relief mixing with gratitude as I nod back. “Thank you.”