Chapter Eleven
ELIZABETH
The hose feels like it weighs a thousand pounds in my trembling hands.
My arms ache from fighting the water pressure, muscles burning as I struggle to keep the stream aimed at the flames that seem to mock my efforts.
Smoke stings my watering eyes as I battle against the fire that threatens to devour everything.
“Here, let me take that.”
Strong hands cover mine, gently but firmly taking control of the hose.
I look up to see Mace, his face grim with determination as he takes over, directing the powerful stream with practiced ease.
Within minutes, what seemed like an impossible battle becomes manageable.
The flames retreat, hissing in defeat as they’re finally subdued.
I stumble backward, my legs shaking with an adrenaline crash. My lungs burn from the smoke, each breath feeling like sandpaper against my throat. The pungent smell clings to my hair, my clothes, my skin.
“Elizabeth.” Sin’s voice cuts through the chaos, and suddenly he’s here, his hands on my shoulders, his intense eyes scanning every inch of my face with laser focus. His touch is gentle but urgent, checking for injuries I don’t even realize I might have.
“Are you hurt?” His voice is rough with concern, one hand cupping my face while the other runs down my arms, checking for burns or cuts.
“Fuck, Elizabeth, you’re shaking.” I try to speak, but only manage a cough.
He pulls me against his chest, one hand pressing my head to his shoulder while the other rubs soothing circles on my back.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
For a moment, I let myself melt into his strength, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek.
But the moment is broken when he pulls back, his hands still framing my face.
“Listen to me,” he says, his voice carrying that tone of command I’m becoming familiar with.
“I have to leave you for a while. I need to take care of the clubhouse and make sure my people are okay. Will you be all right?”
I nod, finding my voice finally, “Yeah, of course. I’m going to stay and help patch people up.”
His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, wiping away a streak of soot. “That’s my wildcat,” he says softly, and the pride in his voice makes my chest warm in a way that has nothing to do with the lingering heat from the fire.
He takes my hand, and we walk toward the clubhouse together.
Smoke lingers in the air and inside the clubhouse, organized chaos reigns.
The damage isn’t as severe as it could have been, thank God, but there are still injured brothers and club girls who need attention.
Sin glances at me, dips his head, then takes off to do his presidential thing.
Inhaling deeply, I take a moment to just take this all in.
I’m here, in the middle of a biker clubhouse after they have just been attacked by their enemies.
This is exactly the type of shit I am here for.
The kind of stuff I should be documenting to take back to my superiors.
The exact hard story I need to be selling on why these guys are the bad guys I always thought they were.
But as I stand back, watching the club girls tending to the brothers, and the men helping each other, the general camaraderie and family atmosphere here, I can’t help but pull up my big girl panties and dive in to help them too.
Getting dirt on them can wait.
Right now, I need to help them.
Making my way to the kitchen, I begin to rinse my hands, washing soot and God knows what else off my skin at the kitchen sink when a woman approaches me.
“You must be Elizabeth,” she says, extending a hand.
“I’m Dr. Sarah Chen. The boys called me in to help with the wounded.
” She’s petite with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, her dark hair framing her face in a short bob.
There’s something immediately trustworthy about her, a calm competence that puts me at ease.
“Just Elizabeth is fine,” I reply, wiping my wet hand on my thigh, then shaking her hand. “I’m a journalist, but I have some first-aid training. How can I help?”
“Perfect. I need someone with steady hands to help me clean and dress some of the guys’ wounds. Nothing too serious, but better safe than sorry.”
“Put me in, Doc. Whatever you need, I’m happy to help,” I tell her.
She smiles wide. “Okay then, let’s go!”
We head back out into the main clubroom, where she has already set up a makeshift medical area. Jessa is there working on Will as Dr. Chen and I approach.
Will smiles up at me. “Bet you weren’t expecting this when you signed on to write a piece about us?”
I smirk, raising my brow. “It’s certainly going to make my article a lot more interesting.”
Will grins as Jessa begins stitching up his arm, and he doesn’t even flinch. “That’s if Sin let’s you use anything from today in your piece. The Alliance certainly wouldn’t like to be mentioned either. You gotta play this smart, Elizabeth,” Will states.
For a prospect, the guy is pretty fucking tuned into biker politics.
He’s going to have his patch in no time.
Unless he suffers the same fate as my brother.
Whatever fate that was.
“Mmm,” I simply mutter as Dr. Chen takes over from Jessa.
For the next several hours, I lose myself in the medical work.
There’s something centering about focusing on someone else’s pain instead of the churning confusion in my own chest. Dr. Chen and I work well together, cleaning wounds and applying bandages while she shares stories about how she met the club.
Apparently, they’ve been bringing her injured members for years, and she’s never asked questions about how they got hurt.
“They pay well, and they’re respectful,” she explains as she stitches a cut on Deek’s forearm. “That’s more than I can say for some of my other patients.”
Around us, the club girls move with efficient grace, cleaning up debris and making sure everyone has food and water.
Gia brings me a sandwich at one point, squeezing my shoulder with a grateful smile. “Thank you for staying to help,” she says. “It means a lot.”
Through it all, I catch glimpses of Sin directing the cleanup efforts.
His shirt is off, muscles rippling as he helps carry damaged furniture outside.
Even covered in soot and sweat, he’s devastating to look at.
More than once, I have to force myself to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his jeans hang low on his hips, showing me that perfect V-shape he has.
The sun has long since set by the time Dr. Chen packs up her supplies.
Most of the injured have been treated, and the clubhouse is starting to look less like a disaster zone.
I’m exhausted, my body is aching in places I didn’t know could hurt.
My mind has been in constant chaos. Trying to differentiate between the knowledge that these men, these callous, hardcore bikers, took the life of my brother, but also after being here with them, after witnessing the loyalty, after feeling the unwavering pull of family atmosphere they have here, the knowledge I possess and the experience I am having don’t mesh.
And after the events of today, the entire thing is giving me a severe case of whiplash.
“Elizabeth,” a deep voice cuts through my rapid cycling, shocking me, and I turn to find Sin approaching, now wearing a clean shirt but still carrying the scent of smoke and hard work. His eyes look tired but alert as they meet mine.
“It’s late,” he says, his voice carrying that commanding tone that brooks no argument. “I don’t want you driving home on your own tonight, especially with the Alliance being on the warpath right now. You could be on their hit list.”
The words send a chill down my spine. I’d already thought about the implications of being here during the attack, about what that might mean for my safety going forward.
“You’re staying at the clubhouse tonight,” he continues. “Just as a precaution.”
I’m shocked by the forcefulness of his tone, but if I’m being brutally honest, I’m also a little relieved. The same thought had been nagging at me as the evening wore on. The idea of driving home, of being alone in my apartment after everything that’s happened, makes my stomach clench with anxiety.
“I… ahh… okay,” I agree, surprising myself with how quickly I accept. “That’s probably a smart move.”
Something flickers in his eyes, maybe surprise at my easy agreement, but he just nods. “Ro will set up a spare room for you. Gia has clothes you can borrow. From tomorrow onward, we can set up a brother to tail you—”
“That’s not necessary, I don’t need babysitting, Sin.
” I deflect as quickly as possible. The last thing I need right now is his guys following me around twenty-four-seven.
Especially when I am trying to dig up dirt on them, that would make it practically impossible to find out information on Marcus.
No.
I need to have a free leash.
Sin narrows his gaze on me, huffs in clear annoyance, but simply nods his head. “You’re stubborn as hell, woman. If you die on my watch, I won’t feel guilty for it.”
Jerking my head back, I scoff. “I wouldn’t expect you to, unless you’re the reason I’m dead. You planning on killing me, Sin?” I raise my brow at him questionably.
His top lip curls like I am annoying him. “Not right now, but with your persistent scoop siren questions, you might make me want to.”
Scoffing, my mouth drops open as he huffs, spins, and storms off.
“What the fuck was that about?” I mumble under my breath.
I continue standing in the middle of the room, shocked and a little unsure of what just happened. Sin’s mood swings are starting to really fucking piss me off. But I can’t take that on. His club was just attacked, and he is under a lot of pressure.
But maybe his mood swings are part of the reason I can’t find information on my brother.
Maybe Sin’s swings are the reason my brother is dead.
Maybe Sin did kill Marcus?
A shudder runs down my spine as I peer across the clubhouse at Sin while he talks to Ghost. The thought that Marcus’ last moments could have been at the hands of Sin ripples through me like a tidal wave, and a wave of nausea rolls over me.
I wish I had spent more time with my brother. I wish I were here to help guide him onto a better path. One that didn’t lead him onto the road with Las Vegas Defiance MC. But wishing never got you anywhere.
As I take a seat in the main room, Ro quietly brings me over a drink, and I smile at her, neither of us saying anything.
Then, true to Sin’s word, within an hour, I find myself in a small but comfortable guest room, wearing one of Gia’s oversized T-shirts and a pair of her yoga pants.
The shirt smells like her perfume, something light and floral that’s soothing after the harsh smoke smell that’s been clinging to me all day.
After a long, soothing shower, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to process everything that’s happened, when there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call out.
My eyes widen in surprise when Sin enters, closing the door behind him.
The door clicks and Sin fills the frame, big and quiet, then crosses the room with a slow, deliberate tread, and sits on the edge of the bed, close enough that I feel the heat radiating off him.
For a beat, he just looks at me, like he’s weighing the air between us.
My chest rises and falls with the quick rate of my breathing as I stare at him, waiting for one of us to be the first to speak.
“You pissed me off earlier,” he says finally, voice low and edged.
“Not because you did what you did, but because you did it my way. You put yourself in the line of fire, and I don’t do well with that.
” He tips his chin, his eyes hard. “I am not good at speeches, Elizabeth. I am good at keeping people alive. If keeping you breathing looks like being an ass, then fine. I’ll be an ass. ”
I open my mouth, but he holds up a hand, not soft, not asking.
“This is not about control,” he goes on, each word deliberate.
“This is about the men I call family, and the people I care about. When someone I care about chooses recklessness, it makes me stupid. It makes me hot-headed. I don’t like what that does to me.
So, I’ll come back here, and I’ll put a fence around you, because if I don’t, I could do something worse than be annoyed. I could lose you.”
There’s no apology on his face.
There’s an honesty that lands harder than one.
Then, softer, only for a second, “You staying here tonight is not a suggestion. It’s an order.”
He watches me, waiting for me to argue, to refuse.
When I don’t and simply nod in reply, his mouth twitches like a storm passing.
“Good,” he says, almost a relief. “Tomorrow, we figure the rest out. For now, you sleep. I’ll make sure no one walks through that door until you wake up.
” He looks different somehow, less guarded, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close he is.
“Now… how are you feeling?” he asks, his voice low, carrying a gravel that makes my skin prickle.
“Tired,” I admit. “Overwhelmed. Today was… well, a lot.”
He nods once, eyes sharp, unwavering. “You handled it better than half my men. The way you threw yourself in, no hesitation. Fuck! Elizabeth! Most people would’ve bolted.”
“I’m not most people,” I whisper.
His mouth curves, not a smile, but something darker. “No. You’re not. You’ve got more fire than you know what to do with.”
The silence between us hums with tension until I force the question that’s been gnawing at me. “Why have you been so distant since our bike ride?”