Samuel
The motel smells like bleach and old smoke. It’s the kind of place you don’t ask questions about because you’re only here to disappear for a few nights.
I sit on the edge of the bed with my elbows braced on my knees, ribs screaming every time I breathe too deeply. The TV hums low in the corner, some late-night rerun I’m not watching. My cut lies folded on the chair across from me.
Still mine.
For now.
I haven’t been without the club since I was barely a man. They gave me structure when I didn’t have a damn thing else. Gave me a place to belong when the rest of the world didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died.
And tonight, I walked out of it alone.
Benched.
Stripped of voice and power.
All because I loved the one woman I should’ve never allowed myself to fall for.
I close my eyes and see her the way she looked standing beside me earlier. Soft but unyielding. Choosing me even when it could’ve cost her everything as well. Because loving her doesn’t just put me at risk.
That’s the part that won’t let me rest.
This isn’t just about rules or brotherhood or a pissed-off president who happens to be my best friend. Loving Raven puts her in the path of danger. That truth lands heavy and unavoidable.
Her father and brother’s concern hits me square in the chest. When danger comes, because it’s not an if, it’s a when, it won’t come looking for me, it’ll look for her.
I stand and cross the room, peeling my shirt off slowly. Purple blooms along my ribs, dark and angry. I hiss through my teeth and brace a hand on the dresser until the ache steadies.
Pain I can handle.
Losing her?
That would ruin me.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I don’t have to look to know who it is.
Raven: I can't stop thinking about you. How are you?
I stare at the screen longer than I should.
No lies this time.
Me: I’m breathing. That counts for something.
Three dots appear immediately.
Disappear.
Reappear.
Raven: I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care what my father or Knox tries to do. I’m not going anywhere.
A slow breath leaves my chest, and I sink back onto the bed, thumb hovering over the screen.
Me: I don’t want you in the middle of this.
Raven: Too late.
A ghost of a smile pulls at my mouth, gone just as fast.
I type back.
Me: I’m going to fix this. For you. For us. Even if it takes me rebuilding my whole damn life from the ground up.
Her reply comes softer than I expect.
Raven: You already have a life. I’m in it.
I don’t know where I’ll land when the dust clears. I don’t know what the club will look like when they decide I’ve paid enough. And I don’t know how much worse things are going to get before they get better.
But I do know this. Whatever storm is coming, I’m not letting it touch her. If I have to stand between Raven and the world until there’s nothing left of me but blood and bone, then so be it.
I’d make that choice again.
Every time.