Chapter 18
RUSH
I wake up at five in the morning and I can't get back to sleep.
Diesel's words are still ringing in my head.
"Men like Rush don't change. They just get better at hiding it."
I lie there in the dark thinking about every time I've felt the violence stir, every moment I've had to lock it down.
Every second I've spent terrified I'll become the thing I'm afraid of.
Everly's asleep beside me, her breathing steady and even.
She defended me last night, stood up to her father for me.
That steadies me, but it also scares the fuck out of me.
Because what if Diesel's right?
What if I'm just waiting to prove him right?
I get up carefully and get dressed, leave Everly a note and head to the clubhouse.
The clubhouse is empty when I arrive. It's too early for anyone else to be here.
I make coffee and sit at the bar, thinking about everything.
The way Diesel looked at me like I'm a bomb waiting to go off.
The way Everly looked at me like I'm worth defending.
The gap between those two things feels impossible to bridge.
I think about juvie, about the scared thirteen-year-old who shot Octavia.
The flash of memory hits without warning.
Ms. Michaels steps between me and Cage, her hands up, her voice calm.
"Put the gun down, Rush. We can figure this out."
But I can't put it down because Ruby is six years old and our father is going to sell her.
My finger squeezes the trigger accidentally and the sound is deafening.
Blood blooms on her leg, her face going pale.
The horror of realizing I've shot someone who was trying to help hits me.
I shake my head and force myself back to the present.
The smell of coffee, the quiet hum of the clubhouse, the morning light coming through the windows.
I'm not that kid anymore.
But he's still in here, still afraid, still convinced violence is the answer.
I promised myself in juvie I'd never lose control again.
And I haven't, not in eight years.
But Diesel's words make me doubt that control.
Make me wonder if it's real or if I'm just one bad day away from proving everyone right about me.
I'm working on my bike in the garage around ten when Ciara shows up.
"Hey," she says with a smile. "You're here early."
"Couldn't sleep."
She leans against the workbench. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, fine."
"You seem tense."
I don't answer, just keep working on the carburetor.
"How are things with Everly?" she asks.
"Good."
"Really? Because I've been worried about you two."
Something in her tone makes me look up. "Why?"
"I just mean it's a lot of pressure, right? Her dad's the VP, everyone's watching. She's so young and sweet, I'm not sure she really understands how complicated things can get."
The words land wrong. They imply Everly's naive, that she doesn't know what she's doing.
"Everly knows exactly what she's getting into," I say sharply.
Ciara's eyes widen. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it?"
"I just worry about you, Rush. Her dad’s not going to be happy that she’s dating you and I don't want to see you get hurt. Or Everly."
"Everly's not naive and she's not using me, if that's what you're implying."
"I would never imply that." Her voice cracks slightly. "I'm just trying to be a friend."
"By questioning Everly's intentions?"
"No, by being concerned about both of you. Rush, I care about you and I hate seeing you under this much pressure."
I set down the wrench and take a breath. My hands are shaking with anger.
The edge is there, humming under my skin.
I snapped at her harder than I meant to and now she looks hurt.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have gone at you like that."
"It's okay. I know you're stressed."
"That's not an excuse."
"You're dealing with a lot right now. It's understandable."
Tears well up in her eyes and guilt hits me hard.
"Ciara—"
"No, it's fine. I shouldn't have said anything. I was just worried about you."
"I know you were. I'm just on edge."
"Is everything okay?" She wipes at her eyes and I feel like an asshole for making her cry.
"I didn't mean to snap at you," I say, changing the subject.
"I know. It's okay. I should go, let you work."
She walks away and I stand there feeling like shit.
Ciara was just being concerned and I went at her like she'd attacked Everly.
But something about the way she said it felt off, like she was testing me.
I shake my head. I'm being paranoid.
Ciara's been a good friend since I moved here. She wouldn't try to manipulate me.
I go back to work but I can't shake the unsettled feeling.
The anger came up so fast when I thought she was insulting Everly.
One second I was fine, the next I was ready to tear into her.
That's what scares me.
The edge is always there, waiting for an excuse.
And Diesel was right. I am volatile when Everly's involved.
She makes me feel protective in a way that borders on dangerous.
Like I'd do anything to keep her safe, even things I shouldn't.
I think about the promise I made to myself in juvie.
Never lose control, never let the violence win, never become the thing I'm afraid of.
But protecting Everly makes me want to break that promise.
Makes me want to hurt anyone who threatens her.
And that terrifies me.
Because the line between protector and monster is thinner than I want to admit.
I'm cleaning up around noon when Diesel appears in the garage.
"Rush," he says. "Got a minute?"
My jaw tightens. "Yeah."
We walk outside to the parking lot, away from anyone who might overhear.
Diesel leans against his bike and studies me.
"I want to understand something," he says.
"What?"
"What happened with Octavia."
I wasn't expecting that. "You already know what happened."
"I know the facts. I want to know why."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because I'm trying to figure out if you're a violent man or a desperate kid who made a bad choice."
The honesty surprises me.
"Both," I say.
"Explain."
I take a breath and think about how to put it into words.
"My dad was a piece of shit," I say finally. "He beat the fuck out of me for years. Ruby was six and I tried to protect her, kept it all hidden because I was terrified of what would happen if anyone found out."
Diesel's expression doesn't change, but he's listening.
"Ms. Michaels was my teacher," I continue. "She was kind to me, noticed things. She called child protective services without telling me."
"And your father found out?"
"Yeah, and he blamed her. He was going to sell Ruby as punishment, make her disappear. He told me if I wanted to save her, I had to go hurt Ms. Michaels, make her pay for calling CPS."
I close my eyes and see it again—the fear, the desperation, the gun shaking in my hands.
"I didn't want to do it, but he had Ruby and I knew he'd go through with it.
So I went to her house with a gun he gave me.
Cage was there, the prospect was there, both were in my way.
I don't know what I thought. All I knew was that Ruby was in trouble and she was going to be sold.
" I swallow hard as the memories beat at me.
“I knew the pieces of shit my father was friends with. Majority of them made him look like a fucking saint. I had to protect her. It all went to shit.” I run a hand through my hair. I hate fucking talking about this shit.
"And Octavia?"
"Ms. Michaels tried to get me to calm down and put the gun down. I could see she was scared, but so was I. I shot her in her leg."
"Did you mean to?"
"Yes. I was thirteen and terrified and my hands were shaking. I had to do it—for Ruby’s safety, I had to shoot her."
"And juvie?"
"Five years learning how to survive around kids who were meaner and more broken than me. I fought a lot at first because I didn't know how else to handle the anger. Then I realized I was becoming the thing I was trying to protect Ruby from."
"So you stopped fighting?"
"I stopped losing control. I learned to lock it down, to keep the violence contained. I promised myself I'd never let it out again."
Diesel's quiet for a long time, then he says, "What's stopping you from snapping now?"
"Fear."
"Of what?"
"Of becoming that scared kid again. Of hurting someone I care about. Of proving everyone right about me being too dangerous to trust."
"That's it? Just fear?"
"And the work I do every day to control myself. And Everly makes me want to be better, not just safer."
Diesel studies me, and I can see him weighing my words.
"You don't romanticize it," he says finally.
"Romanticize what?"
"The violence. Most guys like you and me, they wear it like a badge. But you're terrified of it."
"Because I know what it can do."
"And you're choosing to stay anyway? Even though it scares you?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because Everly's worth it. And I'm tired of running from who I am."
Diesel nods slowly. "I still don't fully trust you."
"I wouldn't trust me either."
"But I can see you're not the same kid you were."
"I'm trying not to be."
"Trying's not the same as succeeding."
"I know, but it's all I've got."
Diesel pushes off the wall and steps closer. "Let me be clear about something. Everly's not a test or a prize. She's my daughter, and if you ever hurt her, if she ever comes to me broken because of you, I will destroy you."
The words are said calmly but with absolute certainty.
"I understand," I say.
"Do you? Because I'm not talking about club consequences. I'm talking about personal ones."
"I know, and if that ever happens I'll deserve it."
"You'll more than deserve it."
We stare at each other and the threat hangs in the air.
But there's also acknowledgment underneath it.
He sees me, really sees me, and he's not dismissing what I bring.
"Everly choosing you means something," Diesel says. "She's smart and she's strong and she doesn't make choices lightly. So if she sees something in you worth fighting for, then maybe I'm wrong about you being too broken."
The words settle something in my chest.
"Thank you," I say.
"Don't thank me yet. I'm still watching you."
"I know."
He walks away and I stand there shaking.
That went better than I expected, but the weight of his warning is still heavy.
If I ever hurt Everly, Diesel will come for me.
And I'll let him.
Because if I ever become the thing I'm afraid of, I'll deserve whatever he does to me.
I go back inside and find Everly at the bar with Chloe.
She sees me and her face lights up.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey."
I pull her close and kiss her, needing the grounding.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. Just talked to your dad."
Her eyes widen. "And?"
"And it went better than expected."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He still doesn't trust me but he's starting to see I'm not the same kid I was."
She touches my face. "I told you."
"You did."
Chloe grins. "This is progress."
"Yeah, it is."
We sit down and Everly leans into me. My arm goes around her shoulders automatically.
I think about everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours—Diesel confronting me, Ciara making her comments and the anger stirring, simmering below, but also this, Everly beside me, choosing me even when it's hard.
I'm done letting other people define who I am. Diesel can have his opinions, the club can watch and judge, Ciara can worry, but at the end of the day I'm the one choosing who I want to be.
And I choose to be the man Everly sees when she looks at me.
Not perfect, not healed, but trying. I’m fighting myself every day to be better than my worst moment, protecting her without becoming a monster, and loving her without destroying her.
That's the promise I'm making—not to Diesel, not to the club, but to myself—and it’s one that I’m going to keep.
Later that night, we're back at Everly's flat and she's in the shower. I'm sitting on her couch still thinking about the conversation with Diesel; the way he looked at me when I told him about Ruby, about Octavia, about juvie.
He saw the fear underneath the control, and instead of using it against me, he acknowledged it. That means something.
My phone buzzes and I glance at it. It's a text from Ciara.
Ciara: I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you.
I stare at the message and guilt hits again.
Me: It's fine. I was on edge.
Ciara: I know. Just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk.
Me: Thanks.
I set my phone down and Everly comes out of the bathroom in my shirt.
"Who was that?" she asks.
"Ciara, apologizing for earlier."
"For what?"
"She made a comment about you and I snapped at her, and made her cry."
Everly sits down beside me. "What kind of comment?"
"Just that you're young and maybe don't understand what you're getting into. I told her she was wrong."
"And she cried?"
"Yeah."
Everly's quiet for a second. "You know she's playing you, right?"
"What?"
"The tears, the apology; she's manipulating you."
"Ciara's not like that."
"Yes, she is. She's been doing it since we got together."
"Everly—"
"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm just telling you what I see."
I pull her closer. "Even if you're right, it doesn't matter. You're the one I want."
"I know. I just wish you could see what she's doing."
"Maybe I will eventually, but right now I'm just trying to get through the next day without fucking everything up."
She touches my face. "You're not going to fuck it up."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. Because you're choosing me every single day even when it's hard. That's not what people who fuck things up do."
I kiss her and it's slow and grounding. Her hands slide into my hair.
When I pull back we're both breathing hard.
"I love you," I say.
"I love you too."
"Even though your dad still doesn't trust me?"
"My dad's starting to come around. You told him the truth and he heard you. That's more than I expected."
"Me too."
We lie down on the couch and she curls against me.
I think about the promise I made to myself earlier, to protect her without becoming a monster. To be the man she sees when she looks at me. I'm going to keep that promise.
No matter what it takes.