Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grace
"Why did you tell them we were married?"
The question comes out about an hour into the drive.
I've been sitting here, stewing, trying to process everything that happened.
The meet. Flint's threats. Shadow getting kicked out of the club. My father's fury.
And Shadow telling everyone we got married.
Shadow's hands tighten on the steering wheel, but he doesn't look at me.
Just keeps his eyes on the dark highway stretching ahead.
Banshee's in the backseat with Charlie, suddenly very interested in his phone.
"It was the only thing I could think of," Shadow finally says, his voice quiet, "that would protect you immediately."
I turn in my seat to look at him. "Protect me how?"
"If you're married, you're not part of the deal anymore." His jaw is tight. "Bronco's family bought you as a bride for Bronco. If you're already married to someone else, the transaction is void. You're off the market. Untouchable."
The logic makes sense. Brutal, tactical sense. But—
"They're going to demand proof, Shadow. A marriage certificate. Documentation."
"I know."
"What happens when they find out it's a lie?"
Shadow's quiet for a long moment. The hum of the engine and the road noise fill the silence.
"Then we make it real."
My heart stops. "What?"
He glances at me, his eyes dark and serious. "We get married. Actually married. Make the lie the truth."
I stare at him. "You're serious."
"Dead serious." His hand finds mine on the console. "I was never going to let you go anyway, Grace. This just... speeds up the timeline."
"Speeds up the—" I laugh, but it comes out slightly hysterical. "Shadow, we've been together less than a week."
"I know."
"You just lost your club. Your brothers. Everything."
"I know that too."
"There's a fifty-thousand-dollar bounty on my head."
"Yeah." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "I'm aware."
I pull my hand away, turn to stare out the window at the dark desert passing by.
My mind is racing.
This is insane.
Getting married to protect me from a decades-old deal. From a dead man's family who thinks they own me.
But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.
If I'm married, I'm not a commodity. I'm not something that can be bought, sold, or claimed.
I'm a person who made a choice.
I chose Shadow, and he chose me.
"My father thinks you married me without telling him," I say quietly. "That's worse than just being together, you know. He thinks you didn't even give him the courtesy of knowing."
Shadow's jaw ticks. "I know. And I'll deal with that. But right now, keeping you alive is more important than his feelings."
Fair point.
"Pull over," I say suddenly.
Shadow looks at me. "What?"
"Pull over. I need... I need to look at you for this conversation."
He signals and pulls off onto the shoulder.
The highway is empty—middle of nowhere, desert on all sides, stars overhead.
Shadow kills the engine and turns to face me.
Banshee clears his throat from the backseat. "I'm gonna... take Charlie for a walk." He clips the leash on her, careful of her cone, and they disappear into the darkness.
Now it's just us.
Shadow and me.
And the biggest question of my life hanging in the air between us.
"You really want to marry me?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Not just because of the Copperhead Kings. Not just to protect me. You actually want to?"
Shadow reaches across the console, cups my face in his hand. "Grace. I've wanted you for years. Loved you for longer than I should probably admit. This—" he gestures between us "—was always where we were heading. The timing's shit, yeah. But the destination? That was always you and me."
My eyes are burning. "This is crazy."
"Yeah."
"We barely know each other. Not really. Not like this."
"We'll learn."
"What if it doesn't work?"
His thumb brushes my cheekbone. "It'll work."
"You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do." His eyes are absolutely certain. "Because I'm keeping you, Grace. However long it takes. Whatever it takes. You're mine. And I'm yours. That's not changing."
I should say no.
I should be smart, cautious, and careful.
I should remember what happened last time I trusted a man with my future.
But Shadow isn't Bronco.
Shadow protected me. Kept my secrets. Chose me over his club, over everything he's known for nine years.
Shadow loves me.
And God help me, I love him too.
"Okay," I whisper.
Shadow goes still. "Okay?"
"Marry me." I say it stronger this time. "For real. Not just to protect me. Because I want to. Because I choose you."
His smile is slow and devastating. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
Shadow's across the console in a heartbeat, pulling me to me, kissing me like he's sealing a vow. Possessive, claiming, but also reverent. Like I'm something precious he can't believe is his.
"Mine," he murmurs against my lips.
"Yours," I whisper back.
Shadow deepens the kiss, his hand sliding into my hair—
Woof! Woof! Woof!
Charlie's barking from outside the truck, her cone bumping against the passenger window, tail wagging furiously.
I pull back, laughing. "I think someone's jealous."
Shadow's grinning too, turning to look at Charlie through the window. "You're gonna have to get used to this, girl. I'm kissing your mom a lot from now on."
Charlie barks again, and I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt.
This is my engagement.
Side of a highway in the middle of nowhere, interrupted by my cone-wearing dog.
Perfect.
Banshee appears out of the darkness, shit-eating grin on his face. "Charlie approves, I take it?"
Shadow opens his door, helps me out. "She has opinions."
Banshee looks between us. "So... we getting married in Vegas, then?"
Shadow's arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his side. "Yeah. We are."
Banshee's grin widens. "Hell yeah. Road trip wedding. This is gonna be legendary."
We drive through the night.
Shadow at the wheel, me in the passenger seat, Banshee and Charlie in the back.
The desert stretches endlessly on both sides, dark and vast under the stars.
I call Shiver.
He answers on the second ring, voice rough with sleep. "Grace? You okay?"
"I'm fine. Better than fine. We've been on the way for a while now."
"Good. How long ‘til you get here?"
"How far are we?" I ask Shadow.
"About twelve hours still," he says.
I relay this to Shiver.
"Good. I’ve got a place for you to stay. The club’s ready to help however you need." Shiver's voice is sharp now, alert. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm okay. Shadow's taking care of me." I take a breath. "Shiver, we're getting married."
Silence.
"You're getting married. To Shadow."
"Yes."
"You've been together what, a week?" "
Yes."
"Grace—"
"I know what I'm doing, Shiver." My voice is firm. "I'm sure. I need you to trust me on this."
I hear him exhale. "You love him?"
"Yes."
"And he loves you?"
I look at Shadow, at the way his hand is resting on my thigh, steady and sure. "Yes."
"Then okay." Shiver's voice softens. "Okay. We'll make it happen. I know a guy who can officiate. And Grace?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're coming here. Glad you're finally choosing something for yourself."
Tears burn my eyes. "Thanks, Shiv."
"See you soon, little sister."
I hang up, and Shadow squeezes my leg. "He okay with it?"
"He's protective. But yeah. He's okay with it."
"Good. Because I'm marrying you with or without his blessing, but I'd prefer with."
I laugh. "Noted."
Banshee leans forward from the backseat. "So, what's the plan? Get to Vegas, find a chapel, get hitched?"
"Pretty much," Shadow says.
"You need an officiant. Someone who can actually legally marry you."
Shadow's quiet for a moment, thinking. "We'll figure it out when we get there."
But I'm already worrying about the details. "Shiver said he knows someone who can marry us. We need a marriage license. Both our IDs. And what about—"
"Grace." Shadow's voice is calm. "One thing at a time. We'll handle it."
I nod, trying to breathe.
Trying not to panic about the fact that I'm driving to Vegas to get married in less than twelve hours.
This is insane.
This is the craziest thing I've ever done, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life.
We stop for gas and food somewhere in New Mexico.
A tiny truck stop in the middle of nowhere, fluorescent lights harsh against the dark sky.
Shadow won't let me go in alone.
"There's a bounty on you," he says, like that explains everything.
"It's a gas station, Shadow. In the middle of nowhere."
"Don't care. You don't leave my sight."
So we go in together, Shadow's hand on my lower back, his eyes scanning everyone like they might be a threat.
The clerk is a tired-looking woman in her fifties who barely glances up from her magazine.
We grab snacks, coffee, and water for Charlie.
Shadow insists on paying.
Back in the truck, Banshee's grinning. "You two are disgustingly in love, you know that?"
I feel my face heat. "Shut up."
"No, it's cute. In a possessive, slightly terrifying kind of way." He looks at Shadow. "You planning to let her out of your sight ever again?"
"No," Shadow says simply.
I should probably be annoyed by that.
But I'm not, and we drive on.
The sun rises, painting the desert gold and pink.
I've been dozing, my head against the window, but Shadow's hand on my leg wakes me.
"We're almost there," he says quietly.
I sit up, blinking. In the distance, I can see it—Las Vegas.
The city rising out of the desert like a mirage.
My stomach does a flip.
"I'm getting married today," I say out loud, testing the words.
Shadow's hand squeezes my thigh. "Yeah, darlin'. You are."
Banshee stretches in the backseat. "Vegas, baby. City of sin and shotgun weddings."
"It's not a shotgun wedding," I protest.
"You're getting married after dating each other for a week to avoid a motorcycle club vendetta. That's pretty shotgun, Doc."
Fair point.
We pull into Las Vegas just after eight in the morning.
The Strip is quieter than I expected—early for Vegas, I guess.
But it's still surreal.