Chapter 8
EIGHT
brOOKE
We’re all huddled in Bella’s living room like that’s somehow going to keep the bad thoughts from crawling in.
The TV is on, some show playing in the background, people arguing about something that doesn’t matter, canned laughter cutting through the room at all the wrong moments.
None of us are watching it. Not really. It’s just noise, something to keep the silence from getting too loud, because if it does, I think we might all lose it.
Bella’s on one end of the couch with Jax asleep against her chest, her hand moving over his back in slow, steady strokes like she’s grounding herself as much as she’s soothing him.
Bri’s curled up next to me, shoulder pressed into my side, and Ansley’s sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, legs crossed, phone in her hand like she’s pretending to scroll but not really seeing anything.
Ghost and Razor are outside keeping us safe. I can feel it in the way the house doesn’t feel empty, even with the guys gone. I know no one’s getting near us tonight.
And still, my chest won’t stop feeling tight.
I’m not scared of him coming back. Not really. Not with the Iron Reapers being who they are, not after the look I saw on Rev’s face when he carried me in here, not with the way Blade and Switch left this house like they were heading into war.
If anything, I’m scared of the opposite.
I’m scared of what they’re doing right now.
More than that, I’m scared of what Rev is doing right now.
Because I know him. I know that look. I know the way his jaw tightens and his eyes go dark when something flips that switch in him, and tonight…
tonight I flipped that switch without meaning to, and now he’s out there dealing with something I wish I could pretend wasn’t happening in my name.
My stomach twists and I shift on the couch, tugging Bella’s blanket tighter around my shoulders even though I’m not cold anymore.
Tonight has been such a mind fuck.
One minute I was standing in my bedroom, fixing my hair and telling myself this was the start of something good, that maybe this was finally my turn to have a real relationship, a real future, something that wasn’t just work and responsibility and taking care of everyone else.
And now I’m sitting here with a bruise on my face, my shoes somewhere in the woods, and the man who scared me is probably praying for his life while the man who makes me feel safe is doing God knows what.
My brain won’t shut up. It keeps replaying everything. The restaurant. The way Grant smiled at me. The way I thought that confident, dominant edge meant something good, something like the men in the books I read, the kind who protect and cherish and take charge because they care.
God, I feel so stupid. I scrub my hands over my face and immediately regret it when my cheek throbs.
“Easy, Brookie,” Bri murmurs, shifting closer and gently catching my wrist. “You’re gonna make it worse.”
“Sorry,” I whisper automatically, and then I hate myself for saying it again. I lean back against the couch, staring at the ceiling while the TV keeps chattering about nothing, and my thoughts drift right back to the moment everything truly went sideways.
Not dinner or in the car when Grant came at me. Not even the running and hiding and shaking so hard I thought my teeth would break. But the call. Why did I call Rev? That question has been looping in my head for the last twenty minutes like it’s stuck on repeat.
I could have called Bella. She would’ve been there in a heartbeat.
I could have called Switch, or Blade, or Mason, and any one of them would’ve dropped everything and gotten to me as fast as humanly possible.
I knew that. I’ve always known that. So why didn’t I?
Why, out of everyone in my life, did my fingers hit Rev’s name without hesitation?
We’re close. We’ve always been close in that easy, comfortable way. The way you can sit next to someone and not feel awkward. The way he always makes sure I eat at club events, or checks if I got home okay, or gives me that look when my heels are too high and the floor’s too slick.
But we’re not… like that. Not officially. Not in any way that should make him the person I reach for when my world is falling apart. And yet, when I was crouched behind that tree, shaking and barefoot and convinced I might die out there, I didn’t even think.
I just needed him. Not Bella or Bri. Him.
Because he’s the one I knew would keep all my shattered pieces from completely falling apart.
He’s the one whose voice I needed in my ear, steady and calm and sure, telling me I wasn’t alone and that he was coming and that I just had to hold on.
He’s the one I trusted to find me in the dark.
My throat tightens and I swallow hard, eyes stinging again even though I’m so tired of crying. That has to mean something, right?
I thought tonight was going to be the start of my happily ever after.
Instead, it feels like the start of something else entirely.
Something I didn’t plan. Something I wasn’t ready for.
Something that scares me almost as much as what happened in that car, because I don’t know how to protect my heart from this part.
From the way Rev looked at me tonight, like he would tear the world apart if it meant keeping me safe.
From the way he wouldn’t let go of me, not even when we got here, not even when Bella and Bri were right there, like he needed to make sure I was real and breathing and still his responsibility.
I don’t know what this is. I just know that when everything went wrong, he was the one I called. And I don’t think that was an accident.
It’s late. Like… stupid late.
The kind of late where the house is too quiet and every little sound feels louder than it should, and my body is exhausted but my brain refuses to shut up.
At some point Ansley moved to the other couch, curling up with a blanket and her phone facedown on her chest like she passed out mid-scroll.
Bella dozed off sitting up with Jax still tucked against her, one hand tangled in his curls.
Bri keeps drifting in and out next to me, her head tipping onto my shoulder, then jerking up again like she’s afraid she’ll miss something if she fully falls asleep.
Me? I’m wide awake.
Every creak, every shift of the house settling, every distant car that passes outside makes my stomach jump.
So when the front door finally opens, slow and quiet, I sit straight up like someone hit a switch in my spine.
Blade and Switch slip inside, moving like they think we’re all asleep, boots careful on the floor, voices low and rough like they’ve been scraped raw.
It’s three thirty in the damn morning.
We should all be knocked out.
We are not.
“Where is he?” I ask, and my voice sounds way steadier than I feel.
Blade and Switch both freeze.
Bri’s already awake now, pushing up on the couch, eyes wide and scared and hopeful all at once. Bella blinks awake too, instantly alert, her hand tightening protectively around Jax even though he doesn’t stir.
Blade and Switch look at each other, and something passes between them that makes my chest tighten even more.
Then Blade looks back at me. “He’s on his way in,” he says quietly. “He’s talking to Ghost and Razor outside.”
My breath rushes out of me like I didn’t realize I was holding it.
Outside.
He’s right there.
My hands are already moving, pushing the blanket off my legs, my body halfway off the couch before my brain fully catches up.
Bella reaches for me automatically. “Brooke, honey—”
“I just… I need to see him,” I say, and I don’t even care that my voice shakes a little. “Please.”
Blade steps aside without hesitation, clearing the path to the door like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Switch watches me for a second, something soft and heavy in his eyes, then gives a small nod. “He’s okay, Brooke.”
Okay. Alive. Here. That’s all that matters right now.
I pad across the floor and pull the door open before anyone can stop me.
The night air hits my face, cool and quiet, and there he is.
Rev stands near the porch steps with Ghost and Razor, his back half-turned toward the house, shoulders tense, hands planted on his hips like he’s holding himself together by sheer force.
His cut is still on, his hair a mess, and even from here I can tell he’s exhausted in that bone-deep, adrenaline-crash kind of way.
Ghost says something low, Razor claps him on the shoulder, and then Rev turns.
And the second his eyes land on me, everything else disappears.
He freezes. Like actually freezes, like his body forgets how to move for a second.
“Princess,” he breathes, and his voice is wrecked and soft and so very him that my chest tightens all over again.
I don’t say anything. I just walk straight into him.
He catches me instantly, arms wrapping around me like he was waiting for this, like he’s been holding himself back from touching me all night.
He pulls me into his chest and I bury my face against his shirt, breathing him in, grease and leather and that familiar Rev scent that makes my shoulders finally drop.
“You’re back,” I whisper, and I hate how small that sounds.
He tightens his hold. “I told you I was coming back.”
I nod against him, gripping the front of his shirt like if I let go he might disappear again. My whole body is still buzzing, still on edge, and somehow he’s the only thing that feels solid.
Ghost clears his throat softly. “We’ll give you a minute.”
Razor nods. “We’re right here.”
They step off to the side, giving us space, but I barely notice because Rev’s hand is in my hair now, fingers gentle, careful, like he’s afraid he might hurt me if he grips too tight.
“You okay?” he murmurs into my hair. “You hurt anywhere else?”