27. Nora
NORA
The Savage Wolves clubhouse looks nothing like I imagined it would.
That realization hits me almost immediately after Stryker leads us through the heavy front doors with Paxton and Lena walking several feet ahead of us still signing excitedly back and forth.
I expected noise first. Chaos. Men screaming over each other.
Beer bottles and smoke and the kind of recklessness people warn girls about when they talk about biker gangs.
Instead the building feels strangely organized beneath the crowding. Busy, definitely. Overfull, too, but not chaotic.
People move with purpose around us. Women carry folded laundry down hallways.
Somebody wheels boxes of groceries toward a kitchen large enough to feed an army.
Men in leather cuts pass through the building quietly, instead of posturing the way I half expected.
The whole thing feels less like a criminal compound and more like an overcrowded emergency shelter run by people who are used to handling crises.
My brain struggles with that.
Paxton stops dead near the entrance, staring openly at everything around him, while Lena immediately grabs his hand and starts signing rapidly.
This is where I live most of the time. My room is upstairs, but sometimes I sleep downstairs during movie nights.
Paxton looks delighted by this information for reasons I do not fully understand.
Stryker watches both children carefully while speaking low beside me. “We’ve got extra people here right now.”
“I noticed.”
He glances at me briefly. “Shipment survivors.”
My stomach twists immediately. Right. The women. The trafficking victims they intercepted in Los Angeles. Suddenly I notice things differently.
The guarded expressions on some women’s faces. The way several flinch automatically when loud male voices echo too sharply from another room. The sheer number of blankets, pillows, and temporary sleeping setups filling corners throughout the building.
Before I can process it fully, a woman with dark curls and sharp eyeliner rounds the hallway corner carrying three folded towels and nearly walks directly into us.
“Oh thank God,” she says immediately upon spotting Stryker. “Tell Maddox if he steals my coffee creamer one more time I’m poisoning him.”
Then she notices me and pauses.
“You must be Nora.”
I blink. “Uh. Yeah.”
Her expression brightens instantly. “Finally. Jesus Christ, they’ve been acting like emotionally constipated lunatics over you for weeks.”
“Cami,” Stryker says flatly.
“What?” she asks innocently. “Am I wrong?”
“Yes.”
She snorts like she absolutely does not believe him, before shifting her attention directly toward Paxton.
Without hesitation she crouches slightly and waves until he notices her. Then she signs carefully enough that I immediately realize she knows what she’s doing.
Hi Paxton. I’m Cami.
Paxton’s entire face lights up.
You know sign language?
Only some, she admits. But Blade, Stryker, and Viper have been making everybody practice for about three weeks.
I look at Stryker sharply. He avoids my eyes completely.
Cami straightens again with a grin. “Come on. Everybody’s been waiting to meet you.”
“That sounds mildly terrifying.”
“It should,” she says cheerfully. “Savage Wolves women are invasive by nature.”
Before I can respond, she’s already leading us deeper into the clubhouse. The next twenty minutes feel vaguely like being absorbed into another universe entirely. Everywhere we go people know who we are already.
Women greet him directly instead of speaking around him. Men wave until he notices them before attempting awkward signs that are clearly newly learned. Nobody stares strangely when he vocalizes unintentionally while excited. Nobody acts uncomfortable when conversations slow down for translations.
They just adjust automatically like they already decided accommodating him matters.
In the kitchen, a beautiful dark-haired woman wearing leggings and one of the Savage Wolves hoodies immediately abandons what she’s chopping on the counter when she spots us.
“There he is,” she says warmly, before signing directly toward Paxton. Blade told us you like dinosaurs.
Paxton looks thrilled instantly.
I do.
“I’m Eva,” she tells him, signing and speaking simultaneously with practiced ease. “And I bought dinosaur chicken nuggets because apparently that’s important.”
Paxton actually laughs. Eva smiles like she just won the lottery. Beside me, Stryker watches quietly enough that I know he noticed my reaction too.
Another woman appears beside the fridge seconds later, tall and elegant with long dark hair and the kind of posture that practically screams expensive upbringing.
“Oh my God,” she says dramatically, crouching in front of Paxton. “Look at these curls. You’re adorable.”
Paxton blinks at her. Then slowly signs toward me.
She talks a lot, but she seems nice.
I choke on a laugh before translating aloud automatically.
Isa gasps theatrically. “I already love him.”
Lena nearly falls over laughing while translating the reaction back toward Paxton.
The entire kitchen somehow devolves into overlapping conversation after that.
More women appear. More introductions blur together.
Tori arrives carrying folded blankets and immediately softens toward Paxton the second he shyly signs hello.
Another woman named Isa brings juice boxes from somewhere.
Someone else starts asking Lena about school.
Through all of it, nobody treats me like an outsider. Actually the opposite. At one point Cami catches me staring after Isa disappears down the hallway holding hands with two different men and snorts knowingly.
“You know what the funniest part is?” she says while leaning against the counter beside me. “Me and Ryder are practically considered weird around here because we’re monogamous.”
I stare at her.
She grins wider. “Seriously. Half this club shares partners. Nobody cares.”
“That seems statistically improbable.”
Cami laughs loud enough that several people glance over. “Trust me, honey, I thought the same thing when I got here.”
The knot that’s been living beneath my ribs for weeks loosens slightly before I can stop it. For the first time since realizing I want all three men simultaneously, I don’t feel secretly ashamed of it.
Nobody here acts like it’s strange. Nobody acts like I’m morally failing somehow. It’s just… normal. That realization disorients me more than judgment probably would have.
Across the room, Lena helps Paxton finger-spell something to Eva while Stryker quietly refills juice cups behind them, as if he’s done it a thousand times already.
The scene feels absurdly domestic considering where I am.
I move slowly toward the giant kitchen island trying to ground myself again while conversations continue around me.
Several rescued women pass through, quietly collecting plates of food, before disappearing back upstairs.
Some look exhausted. Some wary. One young blonde, barely older than twenty, clutches a borrowed hoodie around herself so tightly it wrinkles beneath her fists.
I notice the Wolves automatically lower their voices around them. The few women tied to the club touch shoulders reassuringly in passing. Somebody always asks if they’ve eaten. Somebody always offers blankets or tea or clean clothes.
Paxton tugs lightly on my sleeve to get my attention. Can Lena show me where the game room is?
I glance automatically toward Stryker. He notices instantly.
“Go ahead,” he tells Lena. “Stay inside.”
She nods seriously before grabbing Paxton’s hand again. Come on. There’s air hockey.
Paxton gasps like she just offered him Disneyland. The second they disappear down the hallway, the room feels quieter somehow.
I exhale slowly before rubbing both palms against my jeans. “This is not what I expected.”
“No?” Eva asks gently beside me.
I hesitate. Then decide honesty is probably easier at this point.
“I thought biker clubhouses were supposed to be terrifying.”
Cami snorts loudly from across the kitchen. “Oh they are. You should see Maddox stab people.”
“Maddox does not stab people regularly,” Eva says, without even looking up from the vegetables she’s chopping.
“Agree to disagree.”
The two women laugh. I stare at them. Then unexpectedly laugh too.
Viper enters first, looking exhausted enough that even from across the room I notice it immediately.
His dark shirt clings damply across his shoulders like he hasn’t slept properly in days.
There’s bruising along one side of his jaw I definitely have not seen before and dried blood darkening one knuckle.
Behind him, Blade somehow looks even worse. There’s a split near his eyebrow, partially hidden beneath damp hair, and exhaustion settled deep enough into his posture that my chest tightens instantly before I can stop it.
The reaction embarrasses me because it happens automatically. I’m already visually checking both of them over before my brain catches up.
“You alright?” he asks quietly once he reaches me.
The question almost irritates me, because clearly he’s the one bruised and exhausted, yet somehow I’m the one being checked on.
“I should probably ask you that.”
“Sweetheart,” he says gently, and when I don’t answer, he catches both my hands lightly between his.
Heat rushes straight to my face because apparently he read that entire reaction instantly.
“I’m fine,” he says.
Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he leans down and kisses me.
Right there in front of everyone. By the time he pulls back, I’m still too stunned to react properly.
Which apparently entertains him greatly because he squeezes my fingers once before immediately turning toward the hallway.
“Where are my tiny menaces?” he asks loudly.
“Game room!” somebody calls back.
Then he’s gone again before I recover enough to speak. Around me, the women immediately look delighted.
“Oh my God,” Cami whispers dramatically. “Look at her face.”
“I hate all of you,” I mutter.
Eva laughs openly while looping an arm lightly through mine. “You’ll survive.”
I’m still trying to regain cognitive function when Stryker appears beside me next. He glances once in the direction Viper disappeared before looking back down at me.
“You okay?”
“No,” I say honestly. “What the hell was that?”
One corner of his mouth shifts slightly.
Then he shrugs like this entire situation is obvious and kisses me too.
My brain genuinely stops working for a second.
When he steps back again, I just stare at him helplessly.
He looks faintly amused for approximately half a second before Blade reaches us too.
Blade takes one look at my expression and huffs a tired laugh under his breath.
“Well,” he says dryly, “since apparently we’re doing that now.”
Then he cups my jaw gently and kisses me too. By the time he pulls away, I’m fairly certain my entire face is on fire. Around us, the Wolves women absolutely lose whatever restraint they were pretending to maintain.
Cami outright cackles. Isa nearly chokes on her drink laughing. Tori whistles lowly and even Eva looks entertained enough to hide a smile behind her hand.
“This is humiliating,” I inform them flatly.
“Oh honey,” Cami says while still laughing, “that’s nothing. Wait until you see them actually get territorial.”
“I would rather not.”
“That’s adorable,” Isa says.
I cover my face briefly with both hands, because apparently public affection completely destroys my ability to function.