Chapter 6
SIX
REV
I finally shift, easing Brooke out of my lap and onto the couch, and the second I do, her hands clutch at my shirt like she’s afraid I’m going to disappear if she lets go.
“Hey,” I murmur, leaning in close so she can see me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fingers tighten anyway, knuckles pale against the dark fabric, and it hits me hard, the way her body still hasn’t caught up to the fact that she’s safe. Her eyes are wide and glossy, tracking every movement in the room like she’s braced for something else to go wrong.
I sit down right beside her and pull her back against my side, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her tucked in close.
“You good right here?” I ask softly.
She nods, but she still doesn’t let go of me.
Blade clears his throat from across the room, and I feel the shift coming. I know what’s next. We all do.
I lean in and press a kiss to the top of her head, slow and gentle, breathing her in for half a second like I need to remind myself she’s really here and not still alone in the woods.
“I’ve got to talk to the guys for a minute,” I tell her quietly. “But I’ll be right there.” I nod toward the doorway. “Where you can see me the whole time.”
Her breath catches, and she swallows hard before she looks up at me.
“You’re going to,” she says softly. Not asking. “To teach him his lesson.”
I don’t dodge it.
I nod once. “Yeah.”
Her hand slides up my arm, fingers curling around my sleeve like she’s trying to anchor herself to me.
“I have to do this, Princess,” I say, low and steady. “I have to make sure he knows how badly he messed up and what will happen if he ever touches you again.”
Her eyes flicker, fear and something else mixing together, and I hate that she even has to think about this, hate that she’s carrying any of it at all.
I lift my hand and gently push a piece of hair back from her face, then cup her cheek carefully, avoiding the bruise, my thumb brushing the edge of her jaw.
“But when I’m done,” I tell her, voice dropping even lower, “I’m coming straight back here to you. I won’t leave until you tell me to. You understand?”
Her lips tremble, and she nods.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I lean in and rest my forehead against hers for a second, just breathing with her, letting her feel that I’m still here, that I’m solid, that I’m not going anywhere even if I take a few steps away.
Then I straighten slowly, keeping my hand on her knee until the last second before I have to let go.
“I’ll be right outside,” I repeat. “You keep your eyes on me if you need to.”
She does.
I can feel her watching me as I cross the room, and that alone is enough to keep every part of me locked into control, even though everything inside me is screaming to go find Grant Whitaker and make him regret ever learning her name.
Blade and Switch are already in the hallway, low voices, tense posture, all business now.
But before I step out, I glance back.
Brooke is curled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in Blade’s hoodie and my jacket, Bri sitting tight on one side, Bella on the other, Ansley standing guard behind them like a damn shield.
And she’s still looking at me. Not scared of me.
Trusting me. That’s the part that settles it deep in my bones.
Whatever happens next, whatever line we’re about to cross, I’m walking back into that room when it’s over, and I’m sitting right back down beside her, and I am not letting her carry this alone. Not tonight. Not ever.
The second the door to the living room closes behind us, the air shifts. Blade leans against the wall, arms crossed, jaw locked so hard I can see the muscle ticking. Switch stands across from him, hands braced on his hips, breathing slow like he’s keeping himself on a leash.
I drag a hand over my face. “We’re not doing this half-assed.”
Blade’s eyes cut to me. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Switch nods once. “We bring in Mason.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But he needs to hear this from me.”
They both look at me. “Out of everyone,” I continue, voice low, steady, “he needs to hear it from me. Because she’s… she’s mine.” Neither of them says anything. “Even if she’s not,” I add quietly.
Blade’s expression shifts, something heavy and understanding passing over his face. Switch just nods once, sharp and final. “Then make the call,” Switch says.
I pull my phone out and step a few feet away, mostly because I don’t trust my voice to stay steady if I don’t, and Mason answers on the first ring like he already knows this isn’t a casual call.
“Rev.”
“Mason, we’ve got a problem,” I say, keeping my voice low even though everything in me wants to start shouting. “Brooke Calloway was attacked tonight. She got away and she’s safe now, but this isn’t something that waits until morning.”
There’s a pause, short but heavy, and when he speaks again his voice is cold enough to cut glass.
“Where is he?”
“We’re trying to lock that down right now,” I tell him. “But I’m not leaving the house uncovered.”
“Good,” Mason says immediately. “You won’t. I’m activating the club. Ghost and Razor will hold the perimeter. You, Blade, and Switch get to the clubhouse, and bring Riot if you need him to track this bastard down.”
“I do,” I answer without hesitation. “Ghost and Riot are already here, so I’ll take Riot with us. Ghost can stay with Razor and keep eyes on the house.”
“Good call,” Mason replies. “Make sure they know what they’re dealing with. I don’t want anyone walking into this blind.”
“They’ll know,” I say. “I’ll tell them before we roll.”
“Good,” Mason says again, and I can hear the decision already locked in. “See you there.”
The line goes dead, and for a second I just stare at my phone before turning back to Blade and Switch.
“Whole club’s activated,” I say. “Mason’s calling everyone in, but sending Razor to guard the girls with Ghost. Riot rides with us so he can find this mother fucker with all his technology witchcraft.”
Blade exhales slowly, the kind of breath you take when you’re about to do something ugly but necessary. “Good.”
“Ghost and Razor won’t let anyone near the house.” Switch adds.
Blade nods once, sharp and final. “Nobody gets near them. Nobody.”
“Obviously,” Switch says.
Blade’s screen lights up in his hand and he glances at it. “Mason’s already headed to the clubhouse.”
Switch lifts his head, eyes going hard. “Then we roll.”
I hesitate, just for half a second, and Blade catches it immediately. “You don’t want to leave her,” he says quietly.
“No,” I answer, just as quiet and a hell of a lot more honest. “I really don’t.”
Switch’s voice drops, not soft, but steady. “But you will.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I will. Because this ends tonight.”
Blade pushes off the wall and straightens, shifting into business like a switch just flipped in his head. “The next problem is finding Whitaker.”
“I’m on it,” Riot says, already pulling his phone out, his thumb moving fast across the screen. “Guy like that isn’t laying low. He’s either drinking somewhere expensive or sitting in some downtown condo he thinks nobody knows about.”
“And he’s not keeping his head down,” I add. “He’s gonna be acting like he didn’t just try to ruin someone’s life.”
Blade’s eyes go dark, his mouth tightening like he’s already picturing what comes next. “Not for long.”
Riot doesn’t even look up. “I’ll run plates, business addresses, property records, and anything tied to his LLCs. He’s got money, which means he’s got a trail. Nobody with that kind of lifestyle disappears.”
Switch snorts. “Music to my ears.”
Riot finally lifts his gaze, eyes sharp and focused. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll have somewhere we can start knocking.”
“We don’t move without Mason’s word,” Blade says. “This isn’t three pissed-off bikers running hot. This is Iron Reapers' business.”
And that matters. It changes the rules, shifts the weight of what comes next, because once the club gets involved this stops being revenge and starts being a message.
I glance back toward the living room door, like I can see through it, like I can still feel her fingers gripping my shirt.
“She’s barely holding it together,” I say quietly. “We keep this clean. No trail back to her. No cops. No bullshit that comes back on her or her sisters.”
Switch nods. “She doesn’t get touched again. Ever.”
Blade’s voice is flat and lethal. “Whitaker just made himself a lesson.”
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Mason: Everyone en route. Clubhouse. Now.
I lift my head. “They’re moving.”
Switch straightens, already heading for the door. “Then so are we.”
Blade turns, then pauses and looks back at me. “Rev.”
“Yeah?”
“You good to step away from her for a bit?” He asks.
My jaw tightens, and I don’t bother pretending otherwise. “No.” Then I add, quieter, “But I will.”
Blade nods once. “Go tell her.”
Switch jerks his chin toward the living room. “We’ll give you a minute.”
I don’t waste it. I head back inside, and the second I do, Brooke’s eyes find mine from where she’s nestled between her sisters.
“You’re leaving?” she asks, and her voice hitches like she’s one breath away from falling apart.
Fuck, I don’t want to leave her. Every instinct in me is screaming to stay right here and keep her wrapped up where I can see her and touch her and make sure nothing else goes wrong.
But I can’t.
I nod anyway.
I drop to my knees in front of her so we’re eye level, and I take her hands in mine, holding on like I need the contact as much as she does.
“I’m going to make sure that piece of shit knows exactly how bad he messed up,” I tell her, low and steady. “And I’m never going to let anyone touch you again, Brooke. Never. You hear me, baby?”
Her eyes shine, but she nods.
Behind me, I hear the front door open and close again, heavy footsteps crossing the living room.
Blade and Switch are back.