Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
SWITCH
I push through the doors of the security office, my mood sour as fuck. It’s been almost a week since Bella walked out, and I still can’t shake the goddamn weight of it. I tell myself it’s better this way, that she needs space, that I need space. But the truth? I hate every second of it.
Inside, the office is busy. Tank and Piston are at the conference table, going over some paperwork, deep in conversation. Blade’s on the phone, pacing near the front desk, while Rev is arguing with Miles, the new prospect, about something probably insignificant.
I ignore them all.
I need coffee, something strong enough to knock some sense into me, but I barely make it three steps toward the break room before Tank calls out.
“Yo, Switch, we need to—”
“Not now,” I snap, not even looking at him.
Silence settles over the room, thick and sudden.
“Damn,” Rev mutters under his breath. “Somebody woke up with a fucking attitude.”
I grit my teeth and keep walking, ignoring the looks I feel burning into my back. I’m just about to reach my office when Mason steps into my path, arms crossed over his chest, his expression blank but firm.
“The hell’s your problem?” he asks.
I blow out a breath, shaking my head. “Nothing. Just got shit to do.”
Mason doesn’t move. “You’ve had that same look on your face for days.” His voice is even, but there’s that edge to it. The don’t-fuck-with-me edge. “You going to tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta drag it out of you?”
I’m not in the mood for this. “Mase, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not going to worry about it once you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he says, still calm, still unreadable. “Last chance, Switch.”
I exhale sharply. He’s not letting this go. And if I don’t spill now, he’ll find another way to make me talk.
I run a hand over my shaved head, my pulse beating like a war drum. “Me and Bella got into a fight when I got back from the run.”
Mason’s brows pull together. “Why?”
I shift my weight from foot to foot, not wanting to get into it, but at this point, I don’t have a choice. “She doesn’t get it,” I say. “She doesn’t understand this life, what I have to do for the club. She wants to know everything , and when I don’t give her answers, she thinks I’m shutting her out.” I shake my head. “She acts like she’s on the outside, but this isn’t some normal relationship. I’m an officer in this MC, and that means something .”
By the time I finish, I realize the whole damn room is listening.
Tank, Piston, Blade, Rev, and even Miles have all stopped what they’re doing, eyes on me.
I scowl. “What the fuck are y’all looking at?”
Dagger steps forward, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, man.”
I cross my arms. “What?”
Dagger shrugs. “From someone who’s royally fucked up in the past, I’ll be the first to tell you— you fucked up .”
My jaw clenches. “Are you telling me you all tell your old ladies everything ? Every detail about the club?”
Tank leans back against the table, arms crossed. “I don’t hide shit from Sophie.”
Dagger smirks. “Chloe probably knows more than I do at this point.”
Mason tilts his head. “We don’t hide shit from them, Switch.”
I scoff. “So you’re saying you give them full transparency?”
Mason shakes his head. “Nah. But they hear our calls. They listen to our conversations. Between the four of them, they put things together. We don’t have to spell it out for them.” He narrows his eyes. “And we sure as hell don’t make them feel less than for wanting to know what’s going on.”
I shift uncomfortably, that guilt I’ve been trying to shove down clawing back up my throat.
Piston leans against the desk, rubbing his chin. “Look, I get it. You’re trying to protect her, keep her out of the club’s bullshit. But women like Bella? They’re in whether you like it or not. And pushing her away is the quickest way to make sure she stays on the outside.”
I rub a hand over my face, frustration rolling through me.
“She just—” I start, but Mason cuts me off.
“She just wants to be part of your life ,” he finishes for me. “You think she wants to know club business because she doesn’t trust you? That she’s trying to control you? Or do you think maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t want to be sitting at home, wondering if you’re coming back in one piece?”
That one hits me straight in the chest.
I let out a rough breath, my fingers tightening into fists.
Fuck.
I fucked up.
I knew it the second she walked out that door, and I definitely knew it when she didn’t come back.
Rev whistles low, shaking his head. “Damn, Switch. I figured you’d pull some dumb shit eventually, but this is next level.”
Blade leans against the wall, arms crossed. “She still at Brooke’s?”
“Hell, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? How do you not know exactly where your woman is when she’s not with you?” Piston growls.
“Because I’m not some crazy stalker asshole.”
“Whatever, man. I bet you’re kicking yourself for not putting a tracker on her car already. Y’all laughed when I told you I did it to Jenny, but what did you fuckers go and do the next day? Fucking trackers on their vehicles and their phones.”
Tank sighs. “What the hell are you waiting for Switch? Go get your girl.”
I clench my jaw, my pride warring with my gut. “She left.”
“So?” Mason says. “She can come back.”
I exhale through my nose, dragging a hand down my face. “I don’t know if she wants to.”
Silence hangs in the air for a second.
Then Dagger lets out a slow, dry laugh. “Well, that’s your fucking fault, isn’t it?”
I glare at him. “Helpful.”
Mason straightens, giving me a pointed look. “Figure your shit out, Switch. Before it’s too late.”
I head back to my office and drop into my chair, staring at the paperwork spread out in front of me. The numbers blur together, refusing to make sense. My knee bounces, fingers drumming against the desk in a steady, irritated rhythm.
Everything feels wrong . I don’t want to go home—not even with my sweet Oreo waiting for me. The house is too damn quiet. The bed’s too fucking empty. My whole damn life feels off balance, like I’m reaching for something that’s no longer there. No. Not something. Someone.
I scrub a hand over my face, letting out a rough exhale. I’ve been a damn wreck since Bella left. Every night, I walk through the door, hoping— stupidly fucking hoping —she’ll be there. That I’ll find her curled up on the couch with Oreo, waiting for me. But she’s not. She’s gone.
And yeah, I know I fucked up. I’m not stupid. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know what to fix.
It’s not like I can just stop being an officer in the Iron Reapers. That patch on my back isn’t just something I wear—it’s who I am. The club is my family, my whole damn world. And Bella knew that when she got with me. So why the hell wasn’t it enough?
The thought sits heavy in my chest, like a weight pressing down on my ribs. She knew who I was. But did she ever really feel like she was a part of it?
My stomach knots, something cold slithers through me.
Fuck.
She wasn’t asking me to choose between her and the club. She was asking for more. More of me. More of my world. More of the parts of myself I’ve kept locked up.
She gave me everything. Every inch of herself. Every piece of her world. But I only gave her part of mine.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on my desk, breathing through the realization. No wonder she felt like she was on the outside looking in. Losing her? That’s not an option. I won’t let that happen. But I don’t know how to fix this.
I don’t know what the hell it looks like—bringing Bella into my world in a way that doesn’t fuck everything up. The other old ladies don’t sit in on church meetings. They don’t know every detail about club business. But they’re still in it. They belong in this world. Bella doesn’t. Not yet. But she could.
The thought settles deep in my chest, shifting something inside me. That’s what she wanted—a place. A home. Me. Not just the part of me she got when I wasn’t busy with the club, but all of me. I don’t know exactly how to do it. But I know one thing—I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes. Because losing Bella? Not happening.
I pull up outside Bella’s townhouse, kill the engine, and sit there for a second, gripping the handlebars. My chest is tight, my stomach’s in a knot, and I fucking hate this feeling.
Hate that I’ve let things get this far. Hate that she’s slipping away, and I don’t know if I can fix it. But I sure as hell ain’t walking away without trying.
I climb off my bike, shove my helmet onto the handlebar, and make my way up to her door. My boots are loud against the steps, but she doesn’t open up right away. I know she’s home—her car’s parked out front, and the light’s on inside.
She’s making me wait. Fair enough.
When the door finally swings open, she’s standing there, arms crossed, looking at me like she’s already braced for whatever bullshit she thinks I’m about to pull.
She’s got on leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair up in a messy bun, and fuck if she doesn’t look good enough to grab and hold onto. But the look in her eyes? That distance? It guts me.
“Hey, baby,” I say, my voice rough.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t smile. Just lifts a brow.
I clear my throat. “Come for a ride with me.”
Her brows pull together. “Why?”
“I wanna talk,” I say. “And I wanna show you something.”
She shifts on her feet. “Jax—”
I take a step forward, keeping my voice steady. “I ain’t here to fight. Just need you to hear me out.”
She hesitates. I can see the war going on in her head. She doesn’t trust this, doesn’t trust me right now. But after a long beat, she sighs.
“Fine,” she turns and pulls on a pair of boots. I nod, stepping aside to let her lock up before leading her to my bike.
She pauses when she sees it, hesitation flickering across her face, and for a second, I wonder if she’s going to change her mind. But then she takes the helmet from my hands and pulls it on, adjusting the strap before climbing on behind me.
She’s stiff at first, her hands hovering at my sides like she doesn’t know what to do with them.
I grip her wrist, my voice low. “Hold on, baby.”
She shifts forward, slowly, like she’s testing the waters. I wait. And then—finally—she presses in close, her arms wrapping around my waist. That’s all it takes.
I fire up the engine and take off, the familiar rumble of my bike filling the silence between us. She holds on a little tighter as we weave through town, and by the time I pull into the parking lot, she’s gripping me the way she used to. Like she belongs there.
I cut the engine and swing my leg over, helping her off. She pulls off her helmet and looks around, frowning.
Her gaze lands on the building in front of us. “What is this?”
I unlock the door and push it open, motioning for her to go inside. She hesitates for a second, then steps in, her fingers trailing along the edge of a desk as she looks around.
I shut the door behind us. “This is what I’ve been working on.”
She turns to face me. “What do you mean?”
I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “The club’s changing, Bella. We’re going legit. No more backdoor deals, no more high-risk shit. Perdition, the shop, the gym—that was just the start. This?” I gesture around us. “This is the next move.”
Her brows lift slightly. “Security?”
I nod. “Bodyguards, private security, protection work. We’re setting up contracts with businesses and high-profile clients. Real money. Real future.”
She crosses her arms, watching me closely. “And the club?”
I drag in a breath, jaw tight. “Not everyone’s on board.”
She waits, not letting me off easy.
I take another step, my voice lower now. “Butch, one of our club brothers, wasn’t having it. Didn’t like the way things were going. He made a scene at church and cut his patches right there in front of everyone.”
Her eyes widen. “He left ?”
I nod. “Walked out, just like that. And it’s got some of the older guys stirring shit. They don’t like change. Don’t like the idea of doing things clean. Some of them have left too.”
She’s quiet for a second, letting it all sink in. Then she shakes her head. “Jesus, Jax…”
I let out a breath, raking a hand over my shaved head. “It’s been a fucking mess. I’ve been trying to keep everything together, trying to make this work without the whole damn club splitting in half.” My gaze finds hers. “And in the middle of all that, I fucked up with you.”
She tenses, her fingers flexing at her sides.
I step closer, keeping my voice steady. “I thought if I kept you out of it, you’d be safer. That you wouldn’t have to carry this weight.” I shake my head. “But all I did was make you feel like you didn’t matter. And that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”
She swallows hard, like she doesn’t trust herself to say anything else.
I reach for her hand, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. She doesn’t pull away. I tighten my grip on her fingers, grounding myself in the fact that she’s here —that she came with me, that she’s listening, even if she hasn’t decided what to do with me yet.
“You mean everything to me, baby,” I murmur, my voice rough. “I didn’t realize that in trying to protect you, I was pushing you away. And I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t important.”
Her breath hitches slightly, her eyes flashing with something sharp. “It’s exactly how I felt.”
The words gut me, but I nod, taking it, owning it. “I know,” I say quietly. “And I’ll never let you feel like that again.”
She swallows hard, her fingers twitching in mine.
I step in closer, letting my other hand trail up her arm, slow, steady—giving her the chance to pull away if she wants to. She doesn’t. I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her skin, my voice lower now. “I don’t know how to do this without you, Bella.” The words come out raw, unfiltered. “I don’t want to do this without you. I don’t want any of it if you’re not by my side.”
Her lashes flutter, like she’s trying to blink away something she doesn’t want me to see. “Jax…”
I shake my head. “I ain’t perfect, baby. Never will be. But you gotta know—I see you. I see what you are to me. What you’ve always been. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you over my own fucking mistakes.”
Her breathing is uneven now, her lips parting slightly, and for the first time since I walked into her place tonight, she looks uncertain instead of closed off.
I take another step, so close now I can feel the warmth of her body against mine. “Let me fix this. Let me fix us .”
She exhales shakily, and this time, when she presses her palm against my chest, she doesn’t pull away. That’s all I need. It’s not a full surrender. But it’s enough.