6. Aimee
Aimee
For a minute, I’m frozen. My back stiffens, and I’m dragged back to that night fourteen years ago.
Shattered glass.
Blood.
An alarm ringing.
Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I can still feel hands grabbing me. Dragging me away. There was no one to stop it then, and there is no one now.
It takes me a moment to snap out of it and find my feet. To remember I’m not helpless anymore.
I hurry to the nightstand and slide the drawer open, grabbing for the gun Levi left sitting on the counter when he headed out the other day.
When I came downstairs and saw it sitting there, I was annoyed that he thought I might need it.
What’s the point of a safe house if the Twisted Kings can’t keep people safe?
But then again, what was the point of the large gates and security that surrounded my father’s wealthy neighborhood if they couldn’t protect me either?
I grip the gun and quickly shove open my bedroom window, hoping they’ll think I slipped out. It’s unlikely, as it’s a two-story drop, but anything to confuse them or slow them down will help.
With the window propped open, I slip into the closet and carefully brush the clothes aside so I can squeeze behind them without shifting how they hang evenly spaced on the rod.
I wedge my body behind the sheet of drywall I carried in here when I first arrived at the safe house, hoping the darkness masks the small gap on either side.
Once I’m seated, I pull the drywall parallel to the back wall.
If anyone pushes from the other side, it will collapse, but so long as they just swing the closet door open to look inside, they’ll see an empty space and move on.
Voices start to echo through the house. Boots thunder up the stairs. Doors are swung open one by one until they reach mine. But when they try the handle, it doesn’t turn like the others, and the men on the other side begin shouting.
I left my phone on the nightstand, so I don’t have any sense of time as I stay crouched.
The men work on breaking the lock first. It takes at least a few minutes for the handle to release. Then they pile against the door to shove with enough force to finally push the dresser aside .
“Search the bathroom. Under the bed. Every inch. She’s got to be here.”
They move through my room, and I hold my breath when the closet door swings open. It doesn’t close right away, and my heart races, wondering if my faux wall is obvious.
But then the door closes, and I let out a sigh.
“Maybe she went out the window.”
“It’s two stories up.”
“It’s Aimee. I wouldn’t put it past her. One of you sweep the neighborhood. We need to be quick about it.”
I recognize a couple of voices but can’t put faces to them. They’re definitely Titan’s men.
Footsteps drown out with the distance as they walk back downstairs, but I don’t move from where I’m sitting.
Even as my legs start to cramp, I close my eyes and count the seconds.
I listen to every whisper in the night—the sounds of the house I’ve memorized these past few weeks—until the familiar creaks and groans are all I hear.
Only once silence has long settled do I slowly push the drywall aside and stand. My arms and legs ache as I stretch my limbs.
When I step out of the closet, I find the bedroom empty and my dresser toppled to the side. Clothes spill out onto the floor, but none of them are mine. The entire room is filled with items that are left here for whoever might need them. Shirts, pants, and pajamas of all sizes.
The house is still quiet, but I don’t let my guard down as I step farther into the room and lift my gun, aiming it at the door. I sidestep to the nightstand and quickly grab my phone and purse before slipping into my shoes. Then I head for the door.
If I can just get out of the neighborhood, I can call for a ride to a hotel room and hide out for the night. Clearly, my cover is blown. If Titan knows this is where I am, he won’t stop coming for me.
I take a final breath as I breach the doorway and quickly swing left. It takes only a second to sweep the hall, and my shoulders relax when I find it empty. But right as I turn toward the staircase again, a figure moves up the final step.
I pull the trigger, knowing better than to hesitate. The shot rings out in the silence, followed by a muffled grunt as the man grabs his shoulder where I shot him.
And that’s when I recognize his face.
“Fuck.” Levi backs into the wall with a grunt, blood spilling out from between his fingers.
I guess we were always bound to destroy each other.
Levi hops off his bike, storming toward me with a lethal gaze. As sweet as he can be most of the time, there’s a deadly side to him I sense simmering under the surface tonight. And while it should scare me off, it makes my knees weak.
Ignoring his irritated glare, I don’t budge from where I’m standing, propped against my car with my thumbs tucked in my pockets.
At least the sweat dripping down my neck can be attributed to the blistering heat of the Vegas desert in the middle of summer. Even in the middle of the night, like it is now, the temperature feels sweltering. Hopefully, it’s enough to mask that one look from Levi is all it takes to make me sweat.
“No helmet?” I angle my chin up to meet his gaze.
He brushes his dark hair off his face. “I wasn’t thinking when you texted. I just got on the bike.”
Maybe that should be a compliment that he’d drop everything for me the second he knew I was here. But his tense expression makes it clear it’s not. He rushed here because I came unannounced. To the one place he warned me not to.
“You shouldn’t be at the club.” Levi glances around, but we’re surrounded by empty desert.
Night casts shadows on the sagebrush, and the only light is from the moon and the headlights of my running car.
“Why not?” I frown. “You’re allowed to show up in my life whenever you want, but I can’t show up in yours?”
Because that’s what he does.
Levi and I have been talking for months, spending time together after school and between study sessions.
Sometimes we’ll come out to the desert to talk or go to an arcade to blow off steam.
But as often as he drops by my school, work, or randomly runs into me when I’m at a store, he doesn’t let me reciprocate the effort.
He doesn’t want me anywhere near his club.
“Friendship is a two-way street, Levi. You can’t be in my life and then not let me in yours.”
He drops his chin. “It’s not the same. You’re too good for that place.”
“If that’s the case, then so are you.”
Levi frowns. “It’s not that simple. ”
I stare at the clubhouse from a distance. This is the closest I’ve been to it, and it’s still just a pinprick of light in an empty desert. My plan tonight was to drive all the way to the gate, but I chickened out halfway, which only irritates me more.
It shouldn’t matter that Levi doesn’t want me to meet his club or his friends.
I doubt we have anything in common. And if the stories he’s told are true, I wouldn’t fit in there.
But the more time we spend together, the clearer this line between us becomes.
And even if I swore I didn’t want a relationship with Levi, I’m starting to realize that one isn’t possible if we can’t actually let each other in.
A firework spits into the black sky at a distance, sparking through the night.
My eyebrows pinch. “Should they be doing that in the middle of a desert? Something could catch on fire.”
Levi shakes his head like I’ve just proved his point. And I hate that he sees me as some naive rich girl. Even more so, I hate that he’s not wrong half the time.
“Maybe you’re right.” I try to pull away, but Levi grabs my hand, stopping me.
“No, I’m not.” His thumb brushes over mine, and it’s hard to ignore that I want more from him when I know I can’t risk it.
As troublesome as his club would be for us, that isn’t our biggest problem. My dad would kill Levi for coming near me if we were more than friends. He would never accept his perfect daughter being with a biker.
“Is everything okay?” Levi steps closer, reading my face. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight. ”
“Yes, sorry.” My heart thunders when he brushes his thumb on my hand again. “I wanted you to be the first to know…”
“Know what?”
“I got into the photography program.”
The most breathtaking grin stretches his face. “No shit? Damn, I knew you could do it, Aimee.”
He did. He’s the only one who believed or cared. My father thinks I’m wasting my time on a summer photography program, and I can tell he’s only supporting me to use it as leverage when I decide on a college because he wants me to stay close. But Levi is genuinely happy about it.
“Congratulations.” He squeezes my hand, and his gaze falls to my mouth.
My cheeks burn, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I am.
I’m desperate to know what Levi’s lips feel like. What his hands would feel like if he pulled me close. I know he’s not a virgin, but I am. And I can’t help wondering how good it would feel to finally cross that line with him.
But as quickly as the moment is there, it fades. Levi steps back, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Do you need to get back to the club?” I break his gaze.
“Eventually.” He moves beside me, leaning against the car so our shoulders brush. “But not yet.”
Another firework spits into the night sky. Then another. We watch as embers rain, and I wonder if we’ll ever finally burst ourselves someday.
Maybe that’s the problem because I’m starting to think we wouldn’t survive it.