Chapter Eight
ELIZABETH
The Next Day
The familiar rumble of Harleys echo through the lot as I arrive.
But today feels different somehow. Yesterday at Sunset Manor shifted something in my perspective.
Watching those hardened bikers become gentle caregivers, seeing Nitro and Ro play classical music with the skill of a concert musician, it was like discovering the club has layers I never imagined, and I’m not sure how to process it all.
Sin is nowhere to be seen when I walk through the main doors, which seems to be becoming a pattern. Ever since our encounter in the desert, he’s been conspicuously absent whenever I arrive. I tell myself it doesn’t bother me, but the flutter of disappointment in my chest suggests otherwise.
“Elizabeth!” Millie’s voice cuts through my brooding thoughts, and I turn to see her practically bouncing toward me with a brightness that’s infectious. “Perfect timing! We’re doing gift-wrap duty today, and I could really use another set of hands.”
I follow her toward the main area, where I’m surprised to find the space transformed into what looks like Santa’s workshop. Tables are covered with colorful wrapping paper, ribbons, and tape dispensers. Boxes of toys are stacked everywhere—dolls, action figures, board games, art supplies.
The sheer volume is staggering.
“This is incredible,” I exclaim, taking in the organized chaos. “How many kids are you providing for?”
“Two hundred and fifty this year,” Ro chimes in from where she’s wrestling with a particularly stubborn piece of tape. “We’ve been collecting toys for months. The guys hit up every toy store in Vegas, and some of the brothers have connections with wholesalers.”
Jessa looks up from where she’s carefully wrapping what appears to be a deluxe art set.
“It’s one of my favorite things about this place.
These men act all tough and scary, but put them in a toy store picking out presents for kids they’ve never met?
They turn into the biggest softies you’ve ever seen. ”
I settle at the table, picking up a package containing what looks like a robot action figure. “Do you actually know the families, or is this through an organization?”
“Both,” Millie explains, expertly folding wrapping paper around a board game.
“We work with several local charities and schools to identify families in need. But some of these gifts are for kids the guys have encountered personally, families going through rough times, single mothers struggling to make ends meet.”
As I work, wrapping present after present, I find myself drawn into the easy camaraderie with the group. These women chat and laugh with the comfort of sisters, including me in their conversations like I’ve been part of their circle for years rather than a few days.
“Speaking of struggling…” Millie says with a sigh that catches my attention. “Can I get some girl advice?”
“Always,” Ro replies immediately, leaning forward with interest. “What’s going on, babe?”
Millie’s cheeks flush pink as she fidgets with a ribbon. “It’s Will. Ever since the casino incident, he’s been… I don’t know. Different. Hot and cold. One minute he’s protective and sweet, the next he’s pulling away like I have the damn plague.”
I pause in my wrapping, recognizing the frustration in her voice. It’s not so different from my own confusion about Sin’s behavior. “How so?”
“Like yesterday, he walked me to my car after we finished here, made sure I got in safely, and asked me to text him when I got home. Very caring, very attentive.” She wraps the ribbon around her finger absently.
“But then this morning, when I saw him, he barely looked at me. Just grunted hello and walked away like he had better things to do with his time.”
Gia snorts. “Men are idiots, sweetie. Especially bikers. They think showing emotion makes them weak or some macho bullshit.”
“But it’s more than that,” Millie continues. “When we were at the casino, when Lorenzo called me Amelia and threatened Dad, Will was ready to tear the place apart. He held me like I was precious, told me nobody would ever hurt me again. And I believed him. But now…” She shrugs helplessly.
I set down my wrapping and really look at her. This sweet girl who bakes cookies and lights up rooms with her smile is clearly hurting, and something protective rises in my chest. “Can I ask you something?” I say gently. “How do you feel about Will? Really feel?”
The blush spreads from her cheeks down her neck. “I… God, he makes me feel safe in a way I haven’t since before the Alliance took me. When he looks at me, really looks at me, it’s like I’m the only person in the world. But then he disappears, and I’m left wondering if I imagined it all.”
“You didn’t imagine it,” I say firmly. “I was there. I saw how he was with you. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off you, how gentle he was. How protective he was of you.”
“Then why is he acting like this?”
I think about my own situation with Sin, the push and pull that’s driving me crazy. “Maybe he’s scared. You went through something traumatic with the Alliance. He probably doesn’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”
Ro nods perceptively. “Elizabeth’s right. These guys, they’ve seen some serious shit. They know how delicate healing can be. Will’s probably terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing.”
“Plus, he’s still a prospect. Dating the daughter of someone as important to the club as your father? That’s complicated territory, Mills,” Jessa adds.
Millie gnaws on her bottom lip, winding the ribbon tighter around her finger. “So, what do I do?”
I lean forward. “Talk to him. Be direct. These biker types seem to appreciate honesty over games.”
“But what if he rejects me?”
“Then you’ll know where you stand,” I say gently. “But Millie, I saw his face at the casino. That man is not going to reject you. He’s probably just as confused and scared as you are.”
A slow smile crosses her face as we continue wrapping, but I notice Millie seems lighter somehow, more hopeful. It feels good to help someone navigate the complicated emotions these club relationships seem to breed.
“Speaking of complicated biker emotions…” Ro says with a wicked grin. “How are things with you and our fearless leader?”
I nearly drop the toy I’m wrapping. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, please!” Gia laughs. “The sexual tension between you two is so thick we could cut it with a knife. The way he looks at you when he thinks nobody’s watching? Girl, that man is smitten.”
“Then why does he keep disappearing?” The words slip out before I can stop them, revealing more than I intended.
“Because he’s scared shitless,” Ro says matter-of-factly. “Sin’s not exactly known for letting people get close.”
“Why is that?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Why do they call him Sin anyway?”
The women exchange glances, and I sense they’re debating how much to share.
“When he was a kid, maybe eleven or twelve, people started calling him ‘sinister’ because of how cunning he was. Kid could manipulate any situation to his advantage.”
“His childhood wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows,” Jessa adds carefully. “His mom had a gambling problem. Bad enough that it put them both in danger.”
Ro leans forward, her voice softening. “She disappeared when he was thirteen. Just… gone one day. No note, no explanation. Kid came home from school to an empty apartment.”
My heart clenches. “That’s horrible. What happened to her?”
“Nobody knows for sure,” Gia says quietly. “But Sin’s always believed she got in too deep with the wrong people. Probably ended up dead in the desert somewhere.”
The image of that lost, abandoned thirteen-year-old hits me harder than expected. Suddenly, Sin’s guarded nature makes perfect sense. Of course, he doesn’t let people close—everyone he’s ever loved has left him.
“So… Sin was just out there as a young kid all on his own?” I ask.
The girls all nod. “He fell through the cracks. The system never found him, but the club did a few years later,” Millie continues. “Living on the streets, getting by however he could. They took him in and gave him a family. But the damage was already done. Sin doesn’t trust easily, Elizabeth.”
“And when he does care about someone… he pushes them away before they can leave him first,” Ro adds meaningfully.
The pieces click into place with uncomfortable clarity. Sin’s hot-and-cold behavior, the way he pulls back just when things get intense.
It’s not about me at all.
It’s about a scared kid who learned that love means being abandoned.
“That’s why the club means everything to him,” Jessa explains. “These guys saved him. Gave him purpose, belonging. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to them.”
Inhaling deeply, I look at her, knowing now feels like the right time, seeing as we’re openly talking and bonding.
“During some of my digging, I came across the name Marcus. He was prospecting for the club…” I pause, thinking carefully about my next words.
“Can you give me any information on what happened to him?”
The girls jerk their heads back, their eyes wide like there is no way I should know anything about him. “How do you know about Marcus?”
Before I can respond, the sound of boots on the clubhouse floor announces the arrival of the brothers. They file in looking tired but satisfied, and I realize they must have been out on some kind of business.
“Ladies,” Nitro greets warmly, immediately gravitating toward where we’re working. “How’s the toy operation going?”
“Almost done with the wrapping,” Millie reports proudly. “Elizabeth’s been a huge help.”
I smile at the compliment, feeling more included than I probably should. These people have a way of making you feel like family, even when you’re supposed to be observing from the outside.
“Where’s Sin?” Ro asks casually, but I catch the pointed look she gives me.
“Had to handle something,” Nitro replies vaguely. “He’ll be back later.”
Of course, he will, just in time for me to leave.