Chapter 14
Stepping out of that quiet safe bedroom felt like walking straight onto a stage. The second I crossed the threshold – fitted jeans, soft cream top and all – the whole room went dead still.
Rage was first to move. He pushed up from the kitchen chair, and suddenly every inch of him felt like it filled the space.
That unblinking, heavy stare locked onto me, and it hit me square in the chest hard enough to steal my breath.
I watched the shift in him: chest rising and falling slow, rough, ragged breaths, gaze tracking every sway of damp red hair falling loose over my shoulders.
Heat flooded up my neck, burning bright across my cheeks. All that poise I’d carried my whole life just crumbled away. I stared at my hands, shyness washing over me thick and fast.
Before I could think of a single thing to say, Rose stepped out behind me. She glanced at my flushed face, then at Rage’s dazed expression, and let out a smug triumphant little hum.
“Right, you,” she said brightly, already steering me toward the armchair by the fire. She pressed down gently on my shoulders until I sat. “You’ve been run ragged all morning dealing with these overgrown guard dogs. Relax.”
“Rose, I—” I started, trying to protest.
“Nope. No arguments,” she cut me off, planting hands on hips with that terrifying dead-pan authority I was quickly learning to respect. “I’m making fresh tea. You sit, look pretty, and let me play host for five minutes.”
She turned on her heel and vanished into the kitchen, leaving me pinned under Rage’s gaze.
I sank back into the cushions, looking anywhere but straight at him. My eyes drifted naturally over to the sofa – Tiny and Swift were still huddled together, looking like two kids caught doing something they shouldn’t.
But they weren’t watching me. They were watching him.
From where I sat I could see it all: Swift digging his elbow hard into Tiny’s ribs, eyes glinting with wicked amusement.
Tiny bit back a laugh so deep it shook the cushions, nudging Swift right back.
They had this whole silent conversation flying between them – raised brows, tiny smirks, lips pressed tight together like they were about to burst.
They were tearing their Enforcer apart.
I looked back at Rage, keeping my face as neutral as I could while my heart hammered wild against my ribs.
This terrifying, silent mountain of a man had sat in that corner booth for months, drinking double espressos, keeping every thought locked tight behind that scarred face.
But right now. He didn’t even notice his prospects mocking him.
His dark eyes were glued to me, burning with a quiet heat that prickled warm all over my skin.
The clatter of crockery broke the spell. Rose came back carrying a small tray, set it down on the side table beside me, and passed a couple of sandwiches over to Tiny and Swift.
For herself she held nothing but a tall glass of water. I watched the way she curled her fingers round it, tracing the rim slow – ever since mentioning she was expecting earlier, every little movement spoke of that fierce quiet instinct to protect the life growing inside her.
“There we go,” Rose said cheerfully, settling herself onto the arm of my chair like some kind of guardian angel. “Perfect tea for a perfect afternoon. And the weather’s turned out beautiful, hasn’t it?”
“It really has,” I murmured, wrapping both hands round my own warm mug, letting steam brush against my cheeks. “Thank you, Rose.”
“Friends look after friends,” she replied simply, her smile soft and genuine. She sipped her water, glancing round the little room, relaxed and completely at ease.
We all settled into a strange, quiet kind of peace.
Sunlight spilled through the curtains, gilding every edge of the room.
Tiny and Swift ate and drank like it might be their last meal, finally relaxing now they weren’t being watched.
Rage stayed leaning back against that chair, solid as an anchor.
For a few minutes it felt like all the danger was miles away, and I could just breathe.
I almost dared to think I might get a normal quiet afternoon.
Then Rose set her glass down with one sharp clear clink.
She straightened up, a sudden bright spark lighting her blue eyes. Leaning forward, she looked straight at me, tone so casual you’d think she was asking what day of the week it was.
“So, Danika… when exactly is Rage moving you into the clubhouse?”
Swift choked so hard on his sandwich his whole body convulsed, fighting to muffle a roar of laughter. Tiny’s head snapped round so fast I swear I heard his neck crack, jaw hanging loose in shock.
I froze, mug hovering inches from my lips. My mind went completely blank, while heat surged through me so fierce I thought I might actually burn right up.
“I— what?” I stammered, voice cracking high and thin, mortified.
But the real shock was Rage.
The Iron Angels’ most feared Enforcer completely lost his footing.
Boots skidded loud on polished floorboards, chair legs scraping out a horrible, jagged sound as he tipped sideways.
He grabbed wildly at the wall to steady himself, face gone so pale the scars stood out stark and bright.
He stared at Rose like she’d just pulled a grenade out of her pocket.
“Rose!” he rasped, voice cracking with a frantic desperate edge I’d never heard before. “What the actual hell d’you think you’re playing at?”
Rose didn’t even blink. She just sat there swinging her legs back and forth, face the picture of sweet innocent confusion, like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb right in the middle of the room.
I stayed pinned to my seat, heart battering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I looked from Rage’s panic-stricken face back to Rose’s calm one, and in one sharp instant I understood.
My quiet independent life was gone. They hadn’t just stepped in to save me – they were dragging me straight into my future, and Rose was driving the truck.