Chapter 8
Saint
The ride back to the clubhouse is quiet, but my head’s anything but.
What if we’d been a minute later?
What if Ghost hadn’t gotten the warning?
What if I hadn’t pulled over when I saw her car on the side of the road yesterday?
Useless questions. Poison in the bloodstream.
I shove them down and focus on the weight at my back. Nadia’s arms around my waist, her helmet resting between my shoulder blades. Every time we hit a bump and she squeezes a little tighter, my chest pulls taut.
She left her car back at the safehouse. A prospect will go retrieve it later. Even if it's banged up, Diesel will bring it back to life. He fixes machines and bikers with the same kind of grim magic, like broken just means not finished yet.
Ghost rides ahead, scanning the road. His body language stays loose, but I know better. He’s one wrong twitch from pulling steel. He was already in the area when word came through that the wolves had located the safehouse. Lucky break. We didn’t have time to organize a full crew. We went. Fast.
The sun’s already well up, casting long shadows through the trees. And I’ve got a woman pressed against me like she belongs there, and a pistol tucked at my side just in case someone disagrees.
When Lovestone Ridge appears on the horizon, I downshift automatically.
The Damned Saints’ clubhouse sits just beyond the edge of it all, a hulking old factory wrapped in high fencing, our emblem welded into the steel gates.
As we approach, the gates swing open. A prospect waves us in, eyes sharp, expression tight. Word’s already gotten around.
Inside, it’s organized chaos. Bikes, brothers, tension in the air like a brewing storm.
Havoc stands near the doors. Broad. Calm. Arms crossed.
Next to him is Viper, coiled and ready. Just behind him stands Ava. Her eyes scan the yard. Sharp, anxious, searching.
Then she sees us.
She runs.
I cut the engine and swing off the bike. Nadia’s right behind me, fumbling with her helmet, fingers shaking. She barely gets it off before her sister collides with her. They wrap around each other, arms tight, shoulders shaking with relief and sobs.
Viper steps up behind them and folds both women into his arms. He looks over Ava’s head at me and gives the kind of nod men like us don’t give lightly. Gratitude. Respect.
I return it.
Havoc claps a hand on my shoulder. “You good?”
I nod. “Fine.” But my eyes are on Nadia, who’s laughing and crying all at once. The daylight changes her. Softer, even more beautiful. She’s all steel and honey, survivor in every bone.
“They won’t stop,” I add.
“No. They won’t,” Havoc agrees. “Which means we don’t let this drag out. We traced the number that texted her. Burner, bought in the next town over. We’ve got a lead.”
“Her stepfather?”
“Still behind bars. But someone on his payroll’s moving the pieces. We’ll find out who.”
He glances over at the sisters again. “You did good. Take a shower, grab food. We need to move.”
I hesitate.
He sees it. “She’s safe. Ava won’t let her out of sight, and Ghost is sticking close. Viper’s riding with us. Diesel’s waiting for her car. It’ll be fine.”
I nod slowly. Doesn’t mean I like it. But I trust them. That’s the point of this life.
Nadia turns, still half-laughing, tears drying on her cheeks. “Saint,” she says, waving me over. “Come here.”
I step in close, just behind Nadia as Ava looks between us.
Nadia takes a breath, eyes never leaving her sister.
“I need to tell you something,” she says, voice quiet but clear. “I didn’t just find safety out there.”
Ava’s brows draw together.
Nadia reaches back, finding my hand and lacing her fingers through mine.
“I found more than that,” she says. “I found him.”
Her voice shakes, just slightly, but her grip doesn’t.
“I’m his. And he’s mine.”
Ava stares at her for a long second. Then something in her face softens. She steps forward and wraps Nadia in a tight hug.
“There is no one I would trust more to keep you safe and make you feel loved,” she says quietly, eyes flicking to me for just a beat before returning to her sister.
When she pulls back, there’s a knowing curve to her lips.
“And if he ever screws it up, I know how to hide a body.”
Then her expression shifts into something softer, grateful.
“Thank you for bringing her back to me,” she says, voice thick. “Viper told me enough. You didn’t have to go. But you did.”
“It was the right thing,” I say quietly.
I glance back at Nadia. Even through the exhaustion, she’s glowing. And just for a second, I see her behind the bar after a long run—smile waiting, giving me shit for being late like it’s her favorite part of the day.
“Come on,” Ava says, tugging her toward the hallway. “I’ve got clean clothes, hot food, and a bed with your name on it. You’re about to sleep for fourteen hours.”
Nadia pauses. Looks back at me.
Her voice is soft. Sure. “You’ll be here soon?”
My chest tightens.
“Soon,” I promise.
She leans up and kisses me, not caring about the eyes on us.
A low whistle cuts through the yard.
“Damn,” someone mutters. “He’s gone.”
“Fully gone,” Ghost adds at my elbow.
I don’t turn. “Shut up.”
He smirks. “You used to roast Havoc and me for getting soft. Now look at you.”
I exhale through my nose. “This isn’t soft. It’s steel wrapped in skin.”
He grins. “Call it whatever you want. You’ve got that look. Like you’re already picturing Sunday mornings and matching mugs.”
“Ghost.”
He chuckles, then sobers. “Let’s go find the asshole who thought it was smart to text your girl.”
“Now you’re talking.”
We move for the gate. Time to follow the smoke back to the fire.