Chapter 9
NINE
LUCY
The music in Perdition pulses low and warm around us, mixing with laughter and the clink of glasses.
I’m sitting beside Tiny, my second rum and Coke in my hand.
The first one went down sweeter than I expected, fizzy, smooth, with that gentle burn spreading through my chest like liquid sunshine.
This one tastes even better. My cheeks feel warm, my head light in a way I’ve never felt before.
I don’t think I’m drunk, maybe a little buzzed, and really, truly happy for the first time in longer than I can remember.
Tiny’s arm rests along the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing my shoulder when he leans in to hear me over the noise.
Every touch sends little sparks across my skin.
The whole group is here. Scarlett cracking jokes, Cole and Tessa trading playful jabs, the twins throwing in ridiculous stories that have me laughing until my sides hurt.
Hadley keeps shooting me these encouraging little smiles, like she knows exactly how new and overwhelming this all feels.
Tiny Laughs beside me, low and warm. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles like that. “Easy there, Buttercup. You feeling okay?”
I nod, maybe a little too enthusiastically. The room tilts just a tiny bit, but it’s nice. Everything feels softer around the edges. “I feel floaty and warm. Like I could talk forever and never run out of words.”
Scarlett laughs. “That’s the buzz talking.”
Tiny watches me carefully, but there’s no judgment in his eyes. Only this steady protectiveness that makes my stomach flutter. When I reach for my glass again, he slides a water in front of me first. “Drink some of this too. Trust me.”
I do, and the cool water feels perfect against the warmth in my cheeks.
He’s been like this all night, making sure I eat the fries someone ordered, checking in with me, keeping me close without smothering me.
Every time I laugh too hard and sway a little, his hand settles lightly on my back to steady me.
It feels so good to be taken care of like this. Not controlled. Just cared for.
“You’re glowing,” he murmurs against my ear at one point, his voice rough and soft all at once. “Looks good on you.”
My face heats even more. I lean into him, the buzz making me brave. “I like it here. With all of you, especially you.”
His fingers trace a slow circle on my shoulder. “Good. Because I like you here too.”
Eventually the crowd starts to thin. Tiny glances at the time on his phone, then at me. “Getting late, Buttercup. Are you ready to head home?”
I nod, though part of me wants to stay in this bubble forever. “Yeah. But I don’t want the night to end.”
He stands and offers me his hand. I take it, a little wobbly as I get up. The room spins gently, but his grip is solid. “I’ve got you.”
We say our goodbyes, hugs from Scarlett and Hadley, teasing waves from the guys.
Tiny leads me outside, the cool night air brushing my flushed skin.
His bike waits under the parking lot lights, looking big and powerful.
He helps me with the helmet again, his fingers careful as they brush my hair back and fasten the strap.
His touch lingers, making my heart beat faster.
“Same rules as before,” he says, voice low. “Lean with me and hold on tight.”
I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing close.
The buzz makes everything feel heightened, the rumble of the engine vibrating through us, the solid warmth of his body, the way the wind rushes past as we pull out.
I rest my cheek against his back and close my eyes, letting the night wrap around us.
The ride feels even better than the first time. Safer. Like I belong right here.
Too soon, we’re pulling up to my house. The porch light is on, and my stomach does a nervous flip despite the lingering warmth from the drinks.
Tiny parks at the curb, kills the engine, and helps me off.
He takes the helmet and sets it on the seat, then walks me to the door, his hand at the small of my back again.
At the top step he stops, turning to face me. The buzz is still there, making me bold. I look up at him, tall, broad, those kind eyes that see too much.
“Tonight was perfect,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
He cups my face gently, thumb brushing my cheek. “You were perfect.” His gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “Can I kiss you, Buttercup?”
My heart stutters. I nod, barely breathing. He leans down, slow enough that I could pull away if I wanted to. I don’t.
The front door flies open. “What the hell is going on here?!” Dad’s voice cracks through the night like a whip. I jerk back, heart slamming. Tiny straightens instantly, positioning himself slightly in front of me.
Dad stands in the doorway in his robe, face red with fury. Mom hovers behind him, eyes wide. “Lucy Grace! Have you been drinking? You smell like alcohol!”
“I—” My voice wobbles, the buzz making the words feel thick.
Dad’s glare snaps to Tiny. “And you. You bring my daughter home on a motorcycle, drunk, and then you try to put your hands on her? Who do you think you are, boy?”
“Sir,” Tiny starts, voice calm but firm, “she’s safe. I made sure of it.”
“Safe?” Dad spits. “You’re a criminal riding with some gang. I’ve heard about your kind. You stay away from my daughter!”
“Dad, stop,” I say, stepping forward even as the porch spins a little. “Tiny’s not like that. He’s good. Tonight was—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Dad’s voice rises. “Get inside this house right now, young lady. And you—” He jabs a finger at Tiny. “Get off my property before I call the police.”
My head feels fuzzy, emotions crashing together, the beautiful night, the almost-kiss, the sudden anger. I turn to Tiny, touching his arm. “It’s okay. You should go. I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t move right away. His jaw is tight, eyes flicking between me and my dad. “I don’t like leaving you like this.”
“I know. But please. It’ll be worse if you stay.”
He hesitates, then nods once, reluctantly. “Text me when you can, Buttercup. I’m here if you need me.” He gives Dad one last hard look, then heads back to his bike. The engine rumbles to life, and he rides off into the night. I watch until the taillight disappears, heart aching.
Dad grabs my arm and pulls me inside, slamming the door. The sound echoes through the house. “Drinking? Kissing some biker on my front porch? Have you lost your mind?” His voice booms.
Mom finally speaks, her tone shaky. “Lucy, honey… what were you thinking?”
I pull my arm free, the buzz sharpening into something fiercer.
“I was thinking that I had the best night of my life. I was with friends, real friends, who actually care about me. Tiny took care of me. He made sure I drank water, he listened, he—” My voice cracks but I push on.
“I had rum and Coke. Two of them. And yes, I liked it. For the first time, I felt free. Not trapped by rules and expectations.”
Dad’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “Free? You’re nineteen years old, living under my roof, and you think you can just run wild with criminals? I raised you better than this!”
“You raised me to be terrified of my own shadow!” The words burst out, loud and raw.
The lingering rum gives me courage I’ve never had before.
“I’m exhausted, Dad. Every day I smile and nod and try to be the perfect daughter so you won’t be disappointed.
I go to the clinic, I study, I come straight home.
But what about what I want? I want to be a nurse.
I want friends who make me laugh until I can’t breathe.
I want to ride on the back of a motorcycle and feel alive instead of scared all the time! ”
Mom sinks onto the couch, twisting her hands. “Lucy, please… lower your voice.”
“No!” I whirl on her, tears burning my eyes. “And you, Mom. You just sit there. You always do. Dad talks down to you for years, years, and you take it. You never stand up for yourself. You never stand up for me. Why? Are you scared too? Or do you actually think this is how life is supposed to be?”
Tears spill down Mom’s cheeks. “It’s not that simple, sweetheart. Your father works hard. He wants the best for you—”
“The best for me?” I laugh, bitter and sharp. “He wants control. He wants me to marry someone like Daniel, some safe, boring guy who’ll keep me in the same cage I’ve been in my whole life. I don’t want safe if it means I’m miserable!”
Dad steps closer, voice low and dangerous. “You will not speak to your mother that way. And you will not see that biker again. Ever. I forbid it.”
“You can’t forbid me from living my life!
” I shout back. My head is spinning now, the buzz mixing with adrenaline until I feel like I might explode.
“I met good people tonight. Scarlett, Tessa, Hadley, they’re strong.
They’ve been through things and they’re still kind.
Tiny lost his family and the club took him in.
They protect each other. That’s not criminal, that’s family. Real family.”
Dad throws his hands up. “Family? That gang is going to get you killed or arrested or pregnant and abandoned. I’ve seen it happen. I won’t let it happen to you.”
“You don’t even know them!” My voice breaks.
“You’ve already decided they’re monsters because of the bikes and the vests.
But they showed up for me tonight when I needed it.
When Daniel was being pushy and creepy, they were there.
Tiny was there. He listened when I told him about the date.
He didn’t push. He just made it better.”
Mom wipes her eyes. “Daniel is a good boy from a good family. Your father’s right, he has a future planned. Stability.”
“Stability?” I shake my head, the room tilting. “Daniel talked the whole night about how I’d quit nursing once we had babies. Like my dreams don’t matter. Tiny never once made me feel small. He made me feel important.”
Dad paces, fists clenched. “This conversation is over. You’re grounded. No leaving this house except for work and school. And if I find out you’ve been anywhere near that club or that boy, there will be consequences.”
I stare at him, chest heaving. The warmth from the rum is fading fast, leaving me cold and shaky. “You can ground me. You can take my phone. But you can’t take away how I feel. I’m not going to stop living just because you’re scared.”
He opens his mouth to roar again, but I turn away, heading for the stairs. “I’m going to bed,” I say, voice trembling. “And tomorrow I’m still going to be the same person who wants more than this house and your plans.”
Mom calls after me softly, but I don’t stop. I make it to my room, close the door, and sink onto the bed in tears. My head is spinning, from the drinks, from the kiss, from the fight. Tiny’s face flashes in my mind, the way he looked back at me before riding off.
I curl up on my bed, the buzz from earlier now a dull ache behind my eyes. Tonight was magic, and now it feels like the real world is crashing down harder than ever.
But something inside me has shifted. For the first time, I tasted what freedom feels like. And I don’t think I can go back to pretending I don’t want it.