Chapter Five
Oliver
The clubhouse had finally gone quiet by the time I headed down the hallway toward Lark’s room.
Most of the doors were closed, and the low voices that had filled the common room earlier had faded as everyone turned in for the night.
A strip of light shone beneath one of the doors near the end of the hall, but otherwise, the place had settled.
The old floorboards creaked under my boots, and somewhere behind one of the walls, the pipes groaned as someone shut off a shower.
I should’ve gone straight to my room.
It had been a long day. I was ready to shut my door and sleep for a few hours. Instead, I stopped in front of Lark’s room.
I told myself it was because Wrecker had put me in charge of her. Checking on her before I went to bed was part of the job. Nothing more than making sure she was where she was supposed to be and didn’t need anything.
That was all.
I lifted my hand and knocked twice.
No answer.
I waited, listening for movement on the other side of the door. Nothing shifted. No footsteps crossed the room. No voice called out, telling me to go away or come in.
That was strange. Lark never seemed to miss an opportunity to talk.
I knocked again, harder this time. “Lark?”
Silence.
My shoulders tightened, but I forced myself not to jump to the worst possible conclusion. She could’ve fallen asleep. It had been a long day for her, too, and she wasn’t used to waking up early. From what she’d said that morning, anything before ten qualified as cruel and unusual punishment.
Maybe she’d crashed. That was probably all it was.
I leaned closer to the door, trying to hear her breathing through the wood, but the hallway was too quiet. The lack of sound pressed against me, feeding the unease already crawling up my spine.
“Lark,” I called louder. “If you don’t open this door, I’m coming in.”
Nothing.
I counted to five.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
I tried the handle and it turned easily. The door swung open, and I stepped into the room.
Darkness filled the space. The curtains were closed, blocking the light from the parking lot, but enough glow came in from the hallway to show me the bed.
Empty. The blankets were thrown back. Her pillow was dented, but she wasn’t there. The bathroom door stood open, and the light was off.
“Oh, shit.”
I crossed the room in three long strides and checked the bathroom anyway. Empty. I pulled open the closet even though there was no reason for her to be standing inside it.
Nothing.
My pulse kicked harder. “Lark!” I stepped back into the hallway and looked toward both ends. “Lark!”
A door a few rooms down opened, and Mason stuck his head into the hall. His hair was rumpled from sleep, and he looked like he’d been dragged out of bed two minutes after falling into it.
“What the hell are you shouting about?”
“I’m looking for Lark.”
Mason’s eyes sharpened immediately. “She’s not in her room?”
“No.”
“Bathroom?”
“Checked it.”
He opened the door wider, revealing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and had apparently managed to pull on a pair of jeans without bothering to button them.
I looked past him. “You seen her?”
Mason shook his head. “No. I’ll get my pants on and help you look.”
“Your pants are on.”
He waved his hand at me. “You know what I mean.”
I was already moving away before he stepped back into his room.
Behind me, I heard Adley’s sleepy voice. “What’s going on?”
“Lark’s missing,” Mason answered. I didn’t wait to hear anything else.
Missing.
The word hit harder than it should have.
I had one fucking job.
Keep Lark safe.
That was it.
Wrecker hadn’t asked me to solve the Reapers problem by myself. He hadn’t asked me to track down every enemy the club had. He’d told me to stick to Lark and make sure nothing happened to her.
I had tried to give her space. I had stayed out of her room and out of her way because she was already trapped in a clubhouse that wasn’t hers, surrounded by people who watched every door and questioned every move.
And now I didn’t know where the hell she was.
The common room was mostly empty.
Jude, Fox, and Clash sat at the bar with bottles of beer in front of them. Their conversation stopped the second they saw me.
“Where’s Lark?” I demanded.
Jude frowned. “What?”
“Have you seen her?”
“No.” He set his beer down. “She headed to her room earlier.”
“She isn’t there now,” I grunted.
All three men straightened.
Clash pushed away from the bar. “Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
Jude was already reaching for his phone. “I’ll call Ever and see if she’s in our room.”
I shoved through the front door before he finished.
Cold night air hit my face.
The clubhouse parking lot stretched out beneath the yellow light from the building. Bikes stood in a dark line near the side of the lot. A couple of trucks were parked near the fence. Beyond them, the road was empty.
I scanned every shadow. Nothing moved.
“Lark!”
My voice carried across the gravel, but nobody answered.
I checked between the vehicles, then walked toward the edge of the property. The front gate was still closed.
I turned and moved around the side of the clubhouse.
The yard behind the building was darker, with only one porch light and the glow from a few windows cutting through the night.
The Fallen Lords had built the area years ago for cookouts and club parties.
A stone fire pit sat in the middle of a wide circle of mismatched chairs.
Picnic tables were spread closer to the building, and an old swing hung from a wooden frame near the back fence.
At first, I didn’t see anyone.
Then a shadow shifted near the fire pit.
Lark sat curled into one of the wide outdoor chairs, her feet tucked beneath her. She wore the same oversized black hoodie she’d borrowed that morning, and her hair fell loose around her shoulders.
She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t running. She was curled into a chair by the fire pit like she’d simply stepped outside for fresh air.
The pressure in my chest released so suddenly it turned into anger before I could stop it. “What the hell are you doing?” The words came out rougher than I intended.
Lark blinked at me. “Good evening to you, too.”
I stalked toward her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Sitting.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
My jaw clenched. I stopped a few feet from her, forcing myself not to grab her just to make sure she was real and unharmed.
The back door opened behind me. Mason stepped onto the porch barefoot, his jeans still unbuttoned. He pulled a black T-shirt over his head as he came down the steps, his hair sticking up on one side.
“There she is,” he muttered.
Lark’s eyes traveled over him, then her mouth curved. “I see what Adley saw in you all these years.”
Mason stopped with his shirt halfway down his chest.
I stared at Lark.
She looked completely innocent.
A second later, Adley stepped outside wearing pajama pants and one of Mason’s old shirts. She took one look at her husband and smiled widely. “Sometimes the mileage doesn’t match the body.”
Lark lifted one hand into the air. Adley slapped her palm against nothing from several feet away, returning the air high five.
I looked between them. “You came out here just so you could ogle Mason?”
Lark rested her head against the back of the chair and sighed dramatically. “He seems to be the only thing interested in me ogling it.”
Mason tugged his shirt the rest of the way down, then put both hands over his chest. “I’m off the market.”
Adley laughed and reached for his hand. “Then you need to put a shirt on before you come running outside. Otherwise, you’re just advertising.”
“I was trying to help Oliver find her.”
“And now he found her.”
Adley pulled him toward the back door.
“I’m just appreciating,” Lark called after them.
Adley laughed and lifted one hand over her shoulder. “You’re all good, girl. Reminds me that I’ve got a damn good thing.”
Mason glanced down at her. “You forget you’ve got it good?”
“Never.”
“Sounded like maybe you needed a reminder.”
“You can remind me when we get back inside.”
Mason’s expression changed immediately. He opened the door for her. “After you.”
They disappeared into the clubhouse, leaving the door to swing shut behind them.
I kept my focus on Lark.
She looked at me. I looked at her.
Her mouth twitched. “Are you just going to glare at me?”
“You’re not in your room.”
She glanced around the yard as if she was checking our surroundings. “Good observation, Ollie. What gave it away?”
“How am I supposed to keep you safe when you don’t listen to me?”
Her brow furrowed. “How did I not listen to you?”
“You’re not in your room.”
She laughed. Actually laughed. “I feel like we’re having déjà vu here. You’ve already said that.”
“This isn’t funny, Lark.”
Her laughter faded. She sighed, unfolded her legs, and stood.
The chair had hidden how tall she was. She was only a couple of inches shorter than me, enough that when she moved closer, I didn’t have to look down far to meet her eyes.
The porch light caught the warm brown of her hair, highlighting the lighter strands framing her face. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and she didn’t need it. Her skin looked soft beneath the pale light, and her full lips curved naturally at the corners even when she wasn’t smiling.
The oversized hoodie hung loose around her shoulders but couldn’t hide the shape of her body.
Lark was curvy, with full hips and a softness that made the sweatshirt stretch slightly across her chest before falling to the tops of her thighs.
Her dark leggings followed the curves of her legs, and thick socks covered her feet.
She folded her arms over her chest.
“I needed some fresh air, Ollie.”
“Stop calling me that.”
She ignored me. “I didn’t think sitting outside for a few minutes before being locked in my room for the night was wrong.”
“You’re not being locked in your room.”
She laughed without any real humor. “Yeah, sure. I guess you guys aren’t physically locking it, but this is a lot to handle when I’m used to doing whatever I want, whenever I want.”
“We’re keeping you safe, and I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.”
Her expression shifted into a smirk. She threw me a wink. “Then I guess you need to do a better job of keeping track of me. I’m not at the bottom of your whiskey glass, Ollie.”
“No one calls me that.”
She lifted both eyebrows. “Looks like I do.”
“This isn’t some joke.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You need to start taking this more seriously.”
Her smirk fell away. “Oh, like you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you take everything seriously. I bet you schedule the time you’re allowed to relax.”
“I don’t.”
She tipped her head. “You’re a stick in the mud.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m sitting fifteen feet from the building.”
“You disappeared.”
“I walked outside.”
“Without telling anyone.”
“I didn’t realize I needed to file a flight plan before leaving my room.”
I dragged a hand over my face, trying to hold on to the small amount of patience I had left. “I was trying to give you space.”
“That’s generous.”
“This is different for you. I get that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She studied me. I didn’t look away.
“You’re used to your own place,” I continued. “You’re used to going where you want and not explaining yourself to anyone. Now you’ve got people watching you, asking where you’re going, and telling you what you can and can’t do.”
“Exactly.”
“I was trying not to make that worse.”
Her arms lowered slightly.
“But if you can’t stay inside the clubhouse without disappearing, I’m going to have to stay closer to you.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d walked into something.
Lark stepped closer.
One step.
Then another.
She stopped directly in front of me and tipped her head back. “That’s exactly what I want, Ollie.”
Her face was only inches from mine. Close enough that I felt the warmth of her breath against my mouth. Close enough that the scent of her shampoo cut through the smoke still clinging to the cold air from the fire pit.
I should’ve stepped back.
I didn’t.
Her eyes held mine.
They were lighter than they looked from across a room, with flecks of gold around the center. Usually, they danced with amusement. Even when she was complaining or irritated, there was always something bright behind them.
Not now.
For one second, I saw something else.
Sadness.
It wasn’t obvious. She didn’t look like she was about to cry, and her mouth still held the faintest trace of a smile, but it was there.
Something quiet and lonely beneath all the jokes.
I didn’t understand it.
Lark was surrounded by people. Ever clearly loved her. Everyone at the Dairy Bar knew her. She walked into a room and made herself part of it before anyone could stop her.
Yet standing inches from me, she looked like someone who expected me to step away.
Our breaths mingled.
Her gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes.
My hands stayed at my sides, but every part of me was aware of how easy it would’ve been to touch her. To slide one hand around her waist and pull her closer. To find out whether her mouth felt as soft as it looked.
Lark stepped back, and the cool air filled the space she left behind.
“I’m going to bed now.”
I didn’t answer.
She waited a beat. “I promise I’ll ring a bell if I leave my room.”
She winked, turned, and walked toward the clubhouse.
I watched her climb the porch steps. She opened the back door and glanced over her shoulder once before slipping inside.
The door closed behind her, and I stood alone beside the fire pit, staring at the empty porch.
I’d given her space, and that space had been enough for her to disappear.
Except she hadn’t disappeared. She had walked outside and sat in a chair.
Lark liked pushing my buttons. She seemed to find every limit I had and tap against it just to see what happened. The more I told her not to do something, the more likely she was to do it while smiling directly at me.
Every time she got close, I noticed too much. Her smile. Her body. The way she looked at me like she already knew there was more beneath the quiet, controlled version I showed everyone.
Space made it easier to remember why she was here.
Protection.
That was the job.
Nothing else.
But space clearly wasn’t working.
From now on, I was keeping a closer eye on her. I wasn’t going to lose track of Lark again, even for five minutes.
And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her get to me.
No matter how many times she called me Ollie.