Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ender
I knew something was off the second I stepped through the doorway of church.
Wrecker stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, and his expression unreadable. Pipe leaned against the wall near him, phone in hand like he’d just finished, or was about to start making another call.
I slid into a chair and leaned back, crossing my arms, jaw tight.
Wrecker cleared his throat.
“King reached out to Yogi,” he said.
That got my attention fast.
“The Devil’s Knights told him they’ve got some guys heading up north,” Wrecker continued. “Asked if they could crash at the Northbound Reapers clubhouse for the night.”
A low murmur rolled around the table.
“And?” Jude asked.
“And Yogi said yes.”
That sent a ripple through the room. Guys shifted in their seats. A couple leaned forward, elbows hitting the table. Others mumbled quietly under their breath.
I leaned forward too. “This was your plan? Why couldn’t you tell us you were doing this?”
Wrecker’s eyes snapped to mine. “Last I checked,” he said evenly, “I’m the president of this club.”
The words weren’t loud, but they landed hard.
I didn’t back down. “I thought being part of this club meant we voted on shit. That we were all in the loop.”
Dad shot me a look sharp enough to cut glass. “Ender,” he warned.
I ignored him.
Wrecker held my gaze. Didn’t blink. “I didn’t know if Yogi was going to take the bait. I wasn’t about to get everyone’s hopes up over a maybe.”
“So you just decided this on your own?” I shot back.
“I made a call,” he said. “That’s my job.”
Cole snorted. “Figures.”
Pipe glanced between us. “Why don’t you two just chill the fuck out and hear what Wrecker has to say. Yogi play it cool?”
“Too cool,” Wrecker replied. “Said he’s got plenty of room and the Devil’s Knights are always welcome.”
I scoffed. “Fucking prick.”
Wrecker lifted a hand. “We know.”
“Then what the hell are we doing sitting here?” I demanded. “We should be hauling ass to St. Paul and making the entire Northbound Reapers MC pay. Instead, now you’ve got the Devil’s Knights going there to make friends?”
Brinks smirked from across the table. “Looks like Joker’s back.”
I slammed my fist into the table, the crack echoing off the walls. “From where I’m sitting, you should all be losing your damn minds. That asshole lied straight to your face, Wrecker, and you let him.”
Wrecker tipped his head to the side, studying me. “I let him think he did.”
I frowned. “Explain.”
“He thinks he’s gonna get the Devil’s Knights in his pocket. Give them a place to stay and get in their good graces. Any MC worth anything knows that they are connected to the Banachi Family,” Wrecker said calmly.
“And?”
“And gives him a false sense of protection, and that makes him careless.”
“And in the meantime?” I snapped. “They get time to run?”
Dad finally spoke. “Ender, listen to what he’s saying.”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I am listening. I just don’t like it.”
Cole leaned forward. “With all due respect, Prez, I’m with Ender. They hurt Star. They hurt Clove. That’s not something you play chess with.”
Wrecker’s jaw tightened. “And you think I don’t want blood? You think this doesn’t piss me off? But charging in blind gets people killed.”
Silence fell.
Freak hadn’t said a word, but I could feel his eyes on me. Watching. Judging. He knew. I didn’t know how, but he knew something was different.
Wrecker exhaled. “Brinks. Thorn. Nickel. You’re heading to the Devil’s Knights clubhouse this afternoon.”
They nodded.
“Tomorrow you’ll head to St. Paul with Rigid and Hero. King said he’ll have cuts for you guys,” Wrecker continued. “This puts you in the clubhouse and lets you see firsthand what the Northbound Reapers are.”
“At least it’s happening fast,” I muttered.
Wrecker’s eyes hardened. “I’ve got a good fucking idea what crawled up your ass the past week, but get yourself in check, Joker. You’re not the first one of us to want to protect what belongs to you.”
I laughed, bitter. “So I guess just tell me what I’m allowed to think and feel.”
Dad stood. “That’s enough.”
I pushed back my chair and stood too. “Meeting over?”
No one answered.
Fine.
I stormed out.
The common room went quiet the second I entered. Every head turned.
“Ender?” Clove said.
That was it.
I crossed the room and grabbed her hand. She came with me without hesitation. I stalked out the door with all the ol’ ladies and cousins staring at us, but I didn’t care.
“Is everything okay?” she asked softly when we stopped in front of my bike.
I didn’t answer. I kissed her. It was the only thing I wanted.
Deep. Hard. Claiming.
I didn’t care who saw. Hell, I had blown this secret out of the water ten seconds ago, so I was all in on taking Clove as mine.
When I pulled back, my forehead rested against hers. “Want to go for a ride?” I asked.
She nodded.
We roared out of the lot.
All I wanted was the road.
And Clove on my back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Clove
The night wrapped around us like a secret.
The hum of the engine vibrated through my bones, steady and sure, and the road stretched out ahead of us in darkness, broken only by the glow of the headlight cutting through it.
I had my arms wrapped tight around Ender’s waist, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades, and for the first time since everything had gone to hell, I wasn’t thinking about what might be waiting for me around the corner.
I was just… here.
With him.
We’d been riding for at least two hours.
I knew that because the tension I’d felt when we first pulled out of the clubhouse had slowly bled away, mile by mile.
At the start, Ender’s body had been tight beneath my hands.
His shoulders rigid. His jaw clenched. I could feel it even through the leather and denim, the way his mind was racing faster than the bike.
But as the road opened up, something changed.
I felt it in the way his breathing evened out. In the way his grip on the handlebars loosened just a fraction. In the way his left hand slid back to rest on my thigh.
It felt like we were outrunning everything for just a little while.
Out here, it was just Ender and me.
I tightened my arms around him, pressing closer, and he responded instantly, his hand giving my leg a reassuring squeeze. I rested my forehead against his back and let myself smile into the darkness.
This right here was freedom.
Eventually, the steady rhythm of the ride shifted. The bike slowed, the engine’s growl deepening as Ender eased us off the highway and onto a smaller road. A few minutes later, he pulled into a lonely gas station with an attached diner, its sign glowing softly like a beacon in the night.
He rolled us up to a pump and cut the engine.
The sudden quiet rang in my ears.
I swung my leg over and hopped off, stretching my stiff muscles while Ender followed. He ran a hand through his hair and about melted me with the care in his eyes. “You doing okay?” he asked.
I laughed. “I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle since I was seven, Ender. I’m doing just fine.”
A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah. You are.”
He turned to fill the tank, and I leaned against the bike, watching him. There was something about the way he moved—confident, unhurried, and like he belonged wherever he stood. The light from the station cast soft shadows across his face, and I found myself just… appreciating the view.
When he finished, he looked over at me. “Hungry?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I could eat.”
“This place does a decent French dip,” he said. “And their apple pie’s legit.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He moved the bike away from the pump and parked near the front of the diner. I waited on the sidewalk, and then we walked inside together, hand in hand.
The diner was quiet. The gas station side was brightly lit, but the restaurant had softer lighting. Vinyl booths, a long counter, the smell of coffee and fried food hanging in the air.
There was a hostess stand by the door, but no one was there.
“Just grab a table wherever you want,” a voice called from in the kitchen.
We slid into a booth by the window, where we could see the bike parked just outside.
The waitress came out a moment later, younger than I’d expected—around our age, maybe. She smiled easily at us. “Hey,” she said. “What can I get you two to drink?”
“Just water for me,” I said.
“I’ll do a Coke,” Ender added.
She nodded. “I’ll grab those. Take a look at the menu. I recommend the French dip and the apple pie.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen.
I laughed softly. “You were right.”
He handed me a menu, but I shook my head. “I’m going with the French dip and apple pie. I’d be crazy not to.”
He smiled and set both menus aside. “Good call.”
He leaned back in the booth, stretching his long legs out beneath the table.
“You gonna tell me what happened in church, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”
He took a sip of his Coke when it arrived, buying himself a second. “Same thing that’s been happening in church lately,” he said before I could press. “A whole lot of talking. Not a lot of action.”
I stared at him, but the waitress was back.
We each ordered the French dip, fries, and apple pie. Once she left, I leaned forward. “Spill,” I said.
Ender sighed and ran a hand over his jaw. “Yogi’s still saying it’s not his guys.”
I reared back. “I heard his guys talking. Yogi knows.”
He chuckled. “I know, baby. The whole club knows. Wrecker just doesn’t want to storm the castle and burn everything down.”
“And you do?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I think they need to pay.”
“And you don’t think Wrecker feels that way?”
I knew Wrecker felt it. The whole club did. But waiting felt unbearable.
Ender didn’t answer right away. “If it were me,” he said finally, “this would already be over.”
I reached across the table and rested my hand over his. “I think Wrecker’s trying to keep it from getting bigger than it already is. You can’t take out an entire club over four guys.”
“Well,” Ender said quietly, “we’re down to three now.”
I glanced around, lowering my voice. “I’m not surprised.”
He met my gaze. “Do you think Wrecker’s wrong?”
“No,” I said honestly. “I think it’s just hard to wait when you’re angry.”
He nodded. “King from the Devil’s Knights called Yogi. Told him his guys needed a place to stay. Yogi agreed. Brinks, Thorn, and Nickel are heading there pretending to be DKMC.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“They’ll scope things out.”
“What if they get caught?”
“They won’t.”
“Then why are you so pissed?”
He looked out the window. “Because taking our time isn’t as satisfying as just blowing them all up.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Patience is a virtue, Ender.”
The food arrived, and the moment broke. I stared down at my plate at the massive sandwich and pile of fries, making my stomach growl.
I grabbed the ketchup. “Does letting Wrecker handle it mean we get more rides and random diners because you’re mad?”
He laughed. “You don’t like our first night out?”
“Date?” I asked.
He nodded. “First of hopefully many.”
My heart stumbled.
“You like me, Clove?” he asked quietly.
“Of course I like you,” I said.
“No,” he said. “I mean… do you like me?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“How long?”
I exhaled. “Since I was fourteen.”
He stared at me, shocked. “Honestly?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“How the hell did I not know?”
“Because I tried very hard not to let it show. I was not at all prepared for possibly getting teased and then also rejected by you,” I confessed.
“Who would’ve made fun of you?” he asked.
“My jackass brother,” I said.
He laughed. “If I’d known…”
“You wouldn’t have done anything,” I said. “You were a punk on a dirt bike.”
“And now I’m a punk on a motorcycle on a date with you.”
I smiled. “I like this version better.”
He leaned forward. “I like it too, Clove.”
My heart did a flip. If only fourteen-year-old Clove could see me now. She would be screaming into her pillow and freaking out.
Check the first date with Ender off the list.