Chapter Fourteen
Dan
The next morning, they showered together at his place, the hot water pounding against their skin like it could wash away the dust of Wilkins, the blood on Ronnie’s throat, the metallic tang of fear that was still clinging to their skin.
Dan stood under the spray, eyes closed, letting the steam fill his lungs.
Riley moved behind him, soaping his back with careful hands, tracing the scars she knew by heart now. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.
When the water finally ran cold, they stepped out.
Dan wrapped a towel around her first, then one around his own waist. He walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
The shaking started slow. It was his shoulders first, then his arms, and then it took him like a freight train.
Riley was there in an instant, straddling his lap, knees bracketing his hips. She cupped his scarred face, thumbs brushing the tears that had started to track across his cheeks.
“Look at me,” she said softly.
He did. Her eyes were red-rimmed, raw, the storm-gray of them shattered.
“I can’t lose you,” he rasped, voice breaking on every word. “Not after everything.”
“You won’t.” She kissed away the tears rolling down his face. “I’m not going anywhere, Dan Sharp. You’re stuck with me.”
He exhaled like a man who’d been holding his breath for years, shuddering, ragged, the sound of a dam finally cracking.
His arms came around her, crushing her close, face buried in the curve of her neck.
She held him through it, rocking gently, whispering nonsense against his temple until the shaking eased into stillness.
When he finally lifted his head, his voice was quiet, almost reverent.
“Marry me,” he said.
Riley blinked, a surprised laugh bubbling up. “You proposing naked?”
“Worked for Mad Dawg.” A shaky smile tugged at his scarred mouth. “Say yes, Riley.”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin with one finger. “Do I get to tattoo my name on your ass?”
“Already picked the spot.” He touched the unmarked skin just above his hip. “Right here. Where I’ll feel it every time I ride.”
Her eyes softened. The teasing faded into something deeper, brighter.
“Yes, Raggedy Dan.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “A thousand times yes.”
He flipped her to her back in one smooth motion, mouth hot on hers, hands everywhere, reverent, desperate, claiming.
They moved together, and it was slow at first, skin to skin, breath to breath.
Then their movements turned tender. They made love deep, smoothly unhurried, where every touch was a pledge.
When she came, it was quiet, her fingers laced with his, eyes locked on his face as the breath caught in her throat.
He followed her over the edge, whispering her name.
After, they lay tangled in the sheets, dawn busy painting the trees gold and green through the window. Riley traced lazy circles on his chest, over the fresh tattoo she’d inked there.
“We’re really doing this,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “We’re really doing this.”
They fell asleep peacefully. The Horde remnants were gone, the betrayer silenced, the ghosts finally laid to rest.
***
Riley
Riley woke first, sunlight warm on her back. Dan was still asleep beside her, face relaxed in a way she’d rarely seen. His scars were somehow softened in the morning light, mouth slightly open, one arm thrown possessively across her waist.
She smiled, pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw, and slipped out of bed. The house was quiet. Peaceful. She padded to the kitchen, started coffee, and let herself imagine a future: her shop, his bike parked out front, maybe a little house with a yard for a dog, or a kid, or just them.
She didn’t hear the buzz on the nightstand until it was too late.
When she came back with two mugs, Dan was sitting up, phone in hand, face pale.
“Denver,” he said, voice flat. “They found another burner. Same number. Texted Tinder this morning.”
She froze in the doorway.
The message was simple. *You thought it was over?*
Attached was a photo of Riley and Dan asleep in bed, taken from outside the window. Timestamp: 4:17 a.m.
Her fingers went white as she clutched their mugs of coffee. She bent and carefully set both on the floor next to the door.
Dan looked up at her, eyes haunted.
“It’s not over,” he whispered.
Riley crossed to him, took the phone from his shaking hand, and set it aside.
Then she climbed back into bed, pulled him down with her, and held him tight.
“We’ll end it,” she said against his hair. “Together.”
Outside, the wind picked up.
Inside, two people who’d already survived hell decided they could make it through one more fight.
Because this time, they weren’t alone.