Chapter 16
Sloane
Kyle gets his patch tonight. Last night's fight left the place buzzing, and the energy hasn't died down.
The whole day at the hospital dragged heavily. By the time my shift ends, my feet ache, my back hurts, and every nerve feels rubbed raw.
I still go to the clubhouse. I always do.
The sun is dipping low when I pull into the lot.
Bikes shimmer under the streetlights, chrome catching fire.
Laughter spills through the door. Music pours through the windows.
Something savory drifts from the grill on a curl of smoke.
The noise hits differently than anything from Chicago.
Louder, rougher, and nobody's pretending.
Two years later, and part of me still expects someone to stop me at the door to ask my name.
I'm barely inside when Knox sees me. His eyes cut straight to me, sharp and hungry, and his whole body goes still. Locked on, focused, and dark around the edges.
Two steps in and his hand settles on my hip, warm and heavy, as though he has been counting the minutes.
"Baby," he murmurs, mouth brushing the shell of my ear. "There you are." His arm slides around my waist, tugging me flush against him. I feel his heartbeat under my palms where my hands brace automatically on his chest.
I melt before I can stop myself. "I was only gone twelve hours," I tease.
"Might as well have been twelve weeks." His voice drops. Rougher. "You have no idea how bad I wanted you today."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Knox…"
He presses closer. Probably subtle to everyone else, definitely not subtle to me. He's already hard against my hip.
"You do that on purpose," I whisper.
He smirks, the bastard. "That's me breathing, sweetheart."
I swat his chest lightly, which just makes him chuckle. He kisses me deeply, smug about how easily I soften for him. Someone whistles from the pool table.
"Save the honeymoon shit for your house," East calls.
Knox doesn't even look over. "Eat shit, East."
Malachi's voice follows. "Vice, get over here. You're stripes."
Knox groans but keeps me pinned for one more second. His fingers flex against my hip as though he's memorizing the shape of me all over again.
"Don't go far."
"I'm going to the bar. I'll be here."
His eyes drop to my mouth appreciatively. "Still too far." He lets go and heads for the pool table, though his attention stays locked on me the whole way.
When I walk toward the bar, his gaze burns across my back.
Frankie and Darla are already posted up, but Candace is behind the bar.
I almost stop walking. Three days ago she was curled on a borrowed bed letting me check her for fractures.
Now she's upright, working, jaw set. Her shoulders are tense, hair piled in a hurried knot, the brace still on her wrist. She's wiping down glasses like they've personally offended her.
Ruby is beside her, a chaotic comet weaving between taps and bottles, bumping hips with Candace.
Maggie and James hover in the background. Maggie fusses with a foil-covered tray, and James leans against the counter with one big, steady hand on Kyle's shoulder.
"Look at you," Frankie says, eyes flicking over me. "You look five minutes from passing out."
"Thank you for your kindness," I deadpan, sliding onto the stool beside her.
"Hey," Darla says, squeezing my hand. Her rings glint under the lights. "How was work?"
"Long." I shrug. "We coded twice. One we got back. One…" I swallow. "We might be withdrawing care."
Candace's eyes soften in that way that makes her look younger. "That sucks."
"Yeah." Quieter than I mean it to be.
Ruby pops up with water. "Hydrate or die-drate," she says cheerfully.
"Please never say those words again."
She grins like she absolutely will.
The three of them start bickering about whether Darla should order mozzarella sticks, then Candace says, "Your tattoos are gorgeous."
I blink, caught off guard. "Thank you."
She nods toward Frankie. "Did Frankie do all of them?"
"Every single one."
Frankie lifts her chin proudly. "I'll do yours too."
Candace flushes. "I've… never gotten one."
Frankie leans in, voice wicked. "Then I'll pop your tattoo cherry."
Ruby, passing with a pitcher, cackles. "Malachi's popping something else!"
Candace nearly dies. Darla wheezes. I laugh so hard my eyes water.
"I hate all of you," Candace mutters into her hands.
"You love us," Ruby calls over her shoulder, then leans dramatically across the bar to whisper loudly, "I've heard once you've got a biker, you never go back."
"True," I say. "Trust me."
Ruby turns gleeful. "Let's ask Knox—"
"Ruby," I warn.
She wiggles her eyebrows.
We fall into a comfortable rhythm, louder and messier than girls' night but with the same warmth underneath.
Drinks are poured, Maggie scolds East for stealing food, James laughs like it's the best thing he's seen in months.
The guys filter in until the entire clubhouse smells of wood polish, smoke, and sweat.
The door opens again, and this time it's Victor. Dark suit that probably costs more than my first car, phone tucked against his ear, moving through the crowd like he owns the oxygen. Behind him, Leo and Arden are in their usual formation. Leo's loose and easy; Arden is silent as death.
"Kyle's big night," Leo says, grinning as he scans the room. His gaze snags on the bar, on Frankie specifically, and something warm flickers across his face. "Wouldn't miss it."
Arden says nothing. Takes up position near the wall, arms crossed, eyes moving across the room like he's counting threats. Victor claps Malachi on the shoulder, murmurs something I can't hear, then heads toward the war room. James squeezes Kyle's shoulder once before breaking away to follow.
Leo doesn't follow. Instead, he drifts toward the bar as though he's being pulled by gravity. Ruby notices first. She elbows Frankie hard enough to bruise.
"Incoming," she sings under her breath.
Frankie's spine goes rigid. "Shut up."
"Too late. He's already seen you. And he's smiling. God, he's so into you it's embarrassing."
"Ruby, I swear to—"
"Ladies," Leo says, sliding into the empty space beside Frankie with the ease of someone who's done this a hundred times. "Plotting world domination or just Ruby's next bad decision?"
Ruby gasps, hand to her chest. "My decisions are excellent, thank you."
"You set a man's car on fire last month."
"He deserved it."
Leo laughs, rich and genuine. "Fair."
His attention shifts to Frankie, playfulness softening into something warmer. "Hey."
"Hey," she says. Carefully neutral.
"You avoiding me?"
"I saw you yesterday."
"Exactly. Twenty-four whole hours ago. Practically a lifetime." He leans one elbow on the bar, angling his body toward hers in a way that blocks out the room. "You eat today?"
Frankie's eyes narrow. "I'm not a child."
"Didn't say you were. Just asking if the woman who forgets to eat when she's working on a piece got food in her body today."
Candace's eyebrows shoot up. Darla hides a smile behind her drink. I watch, fascinated, as Frankie's cheeks go the faintest pink.
"I had coffee," Frankie mutters.
"Coffee's not food."
"It is if you add enough cream and sugar."
Leo sighs, long-suffering, then flags down Ruby. "Can you get this one actual food before she passes out and I have to carry her to the couch?"
"You'd like that," Ruby fires back.
"Yeah," Leo says simply, eyes still on Frankie. "I would." The conversation around them fades while they hold each other's gaze.
Frankie looks away first, fingers drumming against the bar. "You're annoying."
"You've mentioned that."
"And you're still here."
"Also mentioned that." His grin sharpens. "Starting to think you like me annoying you."
"I tolerate you being annoying."
"I'll take it."
Across the bar, Candace watches with wide eyes. Darla mouths oh my god at me. I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
Ruby, of course, has no filter. "You two are exhausting. Just kiss already so the rest of us can stop watching this slow-motion car crash."
Frankie's head whips toward her. "Ruby—"
"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
Leo's grin doesn't falter. Widens. "I'm game if you are."
Frankie's blush deepens. "In your dreams."
"Frequently," he says, voice dropping just enough that I almost don't catch it. Frankie does, though. Her breath hitches, pupils dilating, and for a second she looks at him as though she's forgotten why this is a bad idea.
Then Arden appears. He steps up beside Leo so quietly that nobody notices him move.
"Victor wants you," Arden says.
Reluctance flickers across Leo's face before he smooths it. "Yeah. Okay." He glances at Frankie. "Rain check?"
"Maybe."
"Still taking maybe." He pushes off the bar, hesitates, then leans back in. Voice dropping, meant only for her. "Eat something. Please. For me."
Frankie's throat works. She nods once, barely perceptible. Leo's smile goes soft, genuine, devastating. Then he's gone.
But Arden lingers. He fixes Frankie with a steady, unblinking stare. "You're playing with fire."
Frankie's chin lifts. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Arden's gaze doesn't waver. "Because from where I'm standing, you're letting yourself care about someone you can't keep."
"Mind your business, Arden."
"He's human," Arden says, voice flat. "You know how this ends."
Frankie's hands curl into fists. "I said mind your business."
Arden stares for a long, loaded beat. Then, softer he says, "I'm trying to spare you the grief."
"Too late," Frankie mutters.
Arden's gaze holds hers a beat too long. Then he's through the door without making a sound.
The second they're out of earshot, Ruby leans in. "Okay, what the hell was that about?"
Frankie doesn't answer right away. Her fingers drum against the bar. One, two, three; a rhythm that feels practiced, almost ritualistic. "He's human," she says finally. Flat.
Ruby blinks. "Yeah? So?"