Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Ender
I still couldn’t believe she was there.
Clove’s arms were wrapped around my waist, her forehead pressed between my shoulder blades, and her breath warm through my cut. Every time I shifted even an inch, I felt her adjust with me, like she was afraid I was going to disappear.
I didn’t blame her.
From what I could tell, she was banged up, scraped, filthy, and exhausted, but nothing looked broken. No limp when she’d run to us. No awkward angles. Just shaking hands and wild eyes and a body that had been pushed past what it should’ve handled.
Anyone would’ve been frantic after that.
Anyone would’ve been rattled after being chased through the woods, convinced it was their last few minutes on earth.
She’d survived it.
That mattered.
I wanted to talk to her. God, I wanted to hear everything: what they said, what they did, how close she’d come. I wanted to catalog every detail and burn it into my memory so I could deal with it later.
But not now.
Right now, I just wanted to get her home.
I eased the bike into motion, keeping my speed steady, smooth, predictable. No sudden movements. No aggressive turns. I didn’t want to scare her. Didn’t want her gripping me tighter because she thought she might fall.
Not that I minded the way her body was pressed against mine.
Clove had never been on the back of my bike before. The thought hit me out of nowhere and lodged itself firmly in my chest.
I’d never had a woman back there.
Not once.
It wasn’t some rule I’d announced or enforced; it was just something I’d always known about myself. The only woman who would ever ride on the back of my bike would be my ol’ lady. No exceptions. No casual rides. No proving points.
And now Clove was there.
Her knees snug against my thighs. Her hands gripping my jacket like she trusted me to keep her upright and alive.
Something in me shifted, subtle but irreversible.
I didn’t examine it. Didn’t name it.
I just rode.
The clubhouse came into view quicker than I expected. The familiar outline settled something deep in my chest. I slowed as we rolled into the lot, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
For a brief moment, everything went quiet.
I killed the engine and twisted around on the seat, my hand coming back automatically to steady her.
“You’re home, Clove,” I said.
She lifted her head, her hair a tangled mess, dirt streaked across her cheek. She smiled at me anyway. Small, tired, but real.
“Thanks to you,” she said softly. “And Jude.”
The moment shattered.
The clubhouse door flew open and people poured out. Voices overlapping, footsteps pounding. Freak and Carnie reached her first. Hands on her shoulders and arms wrapping around her as they hauled her gently off the bike.
Carnie sobbed openly, clutching her like she might disappear again. Freak held her just as tight, his face buried in her hair, his whole body rigid with relief.
Basil hovered close, pretending not to be emotional, but I saw the way his shoulders sagged like he’d been holding his breath for days. He said something to her that made her huff out a weak laugh, and that did something sharp to my chest.
She was alive.
Safe.
That was what mattered.
Wrecker stepped up beside me, his voice low so only I could hear. “You think you should’ve told me you took off?”
I glanced at him. “Something told me to look for her again.” A beat. “So I did.”
Wrecker studied my face, then nodded once. “I’m glad you found her,” he said. “But don’t ever do something like that again.”
“I did what any of you guys would’ve done for your ol’ ladies,” I shot back without thinking.
His eyebrow lifted slowly. “Something happened on that ride home none of us know about?”
“What?” I frowned. “No. I’m just saying it’s Clove. And we all… I just—” I trailed off, realizing I sounded like an idiot.
Wrecker shook his head and dragged a hand through his beard. “Jesus Christ.”
Before he could say anything else, a van came barreling into the lot, tires squealing as it jerked to a stop. Mac jumped out with the camera crew right behind her, lenses already lifting, voices buzzing.
Dad stepped up beside me, his gaze sharp. “Took them longer than I thought it would.”
Wrecker nodded. “Yeah. Now we gotta figure out how we’re gonna spin this so it doesn’t seem like what it really is.”
Dad turned to me. “Something you wanna tell me?”
Wrecker glanced over knowingly.
I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “I—uh—well…”
“You’re a fucking psychic,” Dad cut in. “How the hell did you know where to find Clove?”
Relief hit me so hard I nearly laughed. Thank God that’s what he meant. “Just a hunch,” I said honestly. “Figured they had to be holding her somewhere near the pipeline. Old camper back in the woods.”
Dad nodded slowly. “You did good, kid.”
Cameras focused on Clove as she was ushered inside, hands still on her, people afraid to let go.
And I stood there, quiet and still, knowing one thing with absolute certainty.
Getting Clove back hadn’t ended anything.
It had started something I wasn’t sure I could stop.