Chapter Fifty-Five #2
He smiled at that. Not afraid. Not rushed. “You don’t mean that,” he said. “If you shoot me, she falls. Fire’s real impatient. It doesn’t wait on apologies.”
He nudged her with the toe of his boot, just enough to make her shift, my breath hitched. Panic roared up my throat so fast it tasted like blood.
“Don’t,” I snapped. “This ends with you lettin’ her go.”
Jasper shook his head slow. “It doesn’t end till the fire says it does.”
I took a half step closer, measured, careful, my eyes never leavin’ the space between him and the flames. My heart was poundin’ so hard I was scared he could hear it.
“Listen to me,” I said, my voice low, rough. “She’s not your vessel. She’s not your flame. She’s a woman you hurt because you needed somethin’ to blame.”
His gaze flicked to me, hard now. “You don’t know anything about how the Flame cleanses and brings justice to the world.”
I swallowed hard, mind racin’. I needed a distraction. A second. Somethin’ he didn’t see comin’.
And then I saw it.
A shadow shifted behind him, just beyond the reach of the firelight. Slow. Deliberate. Familiar in a way that damn near broke me.
My daddy.
He’d circled wide, quiet as sin, movin’ through the place like he’d been born to this kind of night. His face was set, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Jasper’s back. No hesitation. No doubt. Just purpose.
Hope hit me so hard my knees threatened to give.
Jasper kept talkin’, still preachin’, still watchin’ me. “You ever notice how people fight hardest right before they’re set free?”
“No,” I said, steadyin’ my voice. “But I noticed how they shut up right before they die.”
Daddy moved.
One second Jasper was smilin’, sure of himself, and the next my old man was on him, arm locked around his throat, draggin’ him back away from the fire with a grunt of effort.
Jasper shouted, startled and furious. “What the—”
That was all the opening I needed.
I was movin’ before the sound finished leavin’ his mouth.
I dropped down from the ledge, lunged forward, hands goin’ straight to Lark. The heat was brutal up close, heating my skin, but I didn’t care. I got one arm under her shoulders, the other around her waist, and hauled her back hard, puttin’ my body between her and the flames.
“I got you,” I said, breath ragged. “I got you, darlin’.”
She stirred, a soft sound leavin’ her throat, and that was enough to keep me standin’.
Behind me, the fight exploded.
Jasper thrashed, elbows flyin’, boots diggin’ into the dirt as Daddy wrestled him away from the circle. They went down hard, rollin’ through ash and embers, Jasper screamin’ like a cornered animal.
“You don’t understand!” Jasper yelled. “She was chosen!”
Daddy growled somethin’ low and mean I’d heard my whole life when a man had gone too far. They struggled, hands slippin’, fists landin’ wet and solid.
I dragged Lark farther back, away from the heat, laid her down gentle as I could. My hands shook as I checked her bindings, workin’ fast, breath sawin’ in and out of my chest.
Then the shot rang out.
One sharp crack that tore through the night and echoed off the trees.
Everything froze.
I looked up just in time to see Jasper jerk, a strangled sound leavin’ him as he went slack in my daddy’s grip. They collapsed together, then Daddy rolled away, breathin’ hard, eyes still locked on Jasper’s body.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t preach anymore.
Silence rushed in, thick and heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
I pulled Lark into my arms, holdin’ her tight, my forehead pressin’ to hers as relief crashed through me so hard it damn near put me on the ground.
“You’re safe,” I whispered. “You hear me? Nobody’s takin’ you from me. Not ever.”
Behind us, the fire hissed and popped, still hungry, still burnin’.
But it didn’t have her.
And it never would.
***
I DIDN’T REMEMBER the ride back. Not clean, anyway.
What stayed with me came in fragments, driftin’ in and out like pieces of a dream I couldn’t hold onto long enough to make sense of.
The night air cuttin’ cold against my skin.
The steady feel of the road beneath us. The weight of her hand in mine, small and fragile and real enough to keep me anchored when everythin’ else felt like it was sliding sideways.
I didn’t let go of her.
Not when we moved her away from the fire circle, her body light in my arms and heavier than anythin’ I’d ever carried.
Not when Mystic crouched beside us with a flashlight, calm and focused, fingers gentle as he checked her eyes and pulse.
Not when Rune knelt close, quiet and steady, countin’ her breaths like they were somethin’ precious that might slip away if he didn’t pay attention.
Mystic’s voice stayed even, but I heard the edge beneath it. “She took a hit to the head and may have a concussion. We need to keep an eye on her.”
“She’s gonna be okay?” I asked, my thumb still pressed to the faint flutter at her wrist, like if I let go it might stop.
“Yeah,” Rune said. “She’s exhausted. Body’s just… bone tired.”
“She gonna talk?” The words came out rough with my worry.
Rune met my eyes, solid and sure. “She will once she’s rested.”
That was enough to keep me standing.
They wrapped her careful, kept her warm, moved her with the kind of practiced respect that came from knowing how close things had gotten. No sirens. No strangers. The club handled what needed handlin’ somewhere behind us, quiet and final. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need answers.
All I needed was her.
The ride to the clubhouse passed in a blur of dark road and engine noise.
I rode behind her, arms locked around her body, feeling every shallow breath like it was mine to guard.
Her head rested against my chest, light as a feather, and I kept murmurin’ to her.
“I got you, darlin’,” I whispered into her hair.
“You’re safe.” Her eyes would open and she would give me a weak smile, the only sign she heard me.
When we pulled in, the clubhouse sat quiet under the night sky, lights dim, the whole place holdin’ its breath like it knew what kind of night we’d dragged home with us. A few bikes lined the lot. Men moved without speakin’, clearing space, opening doors, making room.
I carried her straight to my room. No rush, just purpose. I laid her down gentle, adjusting her head, keeping her still, moving her like Mystic instructed.
“Concussion protocol,” Mystic said. “Dark. Quiet. Wake her every so often till we know she’s oriented, and give her fluids.”
Rune nodded. “She’s dehydrated bad. Been run past empty. I got something that will help.”
I stood there useless again, hands hangin’ at my sides, watching them touch her because it was necessary, because they knew what they were doin’. I hated how helpless it made me feel, even knowing she was safer than she’d been in days.
When they finally stepped back, Mystic looked at me. “She’s stable, Chain. Just needs time.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” I said, already knowin’ the truth of it.
Rune’s mouth tipped in a faint, knowing smile. “Didn’t figure you would.”
Devil who had been leanin’ on the wall watchin’ came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”
They left us then, pulling the door shut soft behind them.
The room settled into a deep, heavy quiet. Just the sounds of the building and the sound of her breathin’, steady enough to keep my heart from tearing itself apart.
I took off my clothes and climbed in beside her. Holdin’ her close. The fear was still there, coiled tight and mean, waiting for somewhere to go.
But underneath it lived something else.
Love.
The kind that sank its claws in deep and didn’t let go.
I reached out carefully and brushed my thumb over her knuckles, and that’s when I heard her murmur my name.
Thank God.
“Hey,” I whispered. “I’m here, darlin’ and I love you.”
Her lashes fluttered, just once, and my breath caught hard enough to hurt.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “That’s it. You’re don’t gotta wake up yet. Just wanted you to know how much I love you.”
Her brow creased faint, like she was fighting her way back through somethin’ thick and heavy. Her fingers twitched, then curled just enough to catch hold of mine.
She was still here.
The sound that broke loose from my chest surprised me. I bowed my head, pressed my forehead to her hand, and breathed through it until the shake eased.
“I was so damn scared,” I admitted quietly. “Thought I’d lost you out there. Thought I was gonna be too late.”
Her lips parted, a soft sound slippin’ free. No words. Just breath.
“I know,” I told her. “You don’t gotta say nothin’. I know.”
Time stretched thin.
I stayed there listenin’ to the rhythm of her breathin’, watchin’ her chest rise and fall like it was the only thing holdin’ the world together. Everything else felt distant.
All of it could wait.
Eventually, her eyes cracked open, just a sliver at first, unfocused and glassy. She blinked slow, like the light hurt, her gaze driftin’ until it finally landed on me.
Confusion flickered.
Then recognition hit.
Tears welled fast and sudden.
“Chain,” she whispered, wrecked and fragile.
I leaned in close, keeping my voice calm. “Yeah, darlin’. It’s me.”
Her fingers tightened around mine, weak but desperate, like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go. “I thought… I thought I was gonna die.”
My throat locked hard.
“Not today,” I said, firm and sure. “Not ever like that. You hear me?”
She nodded just a little, tears spillin’ free now. I wiped them away gentle, my thumb rough against her cheek compared to how soft she was.
“I didn’t know if you’d find me,” she murmured.
My jaw clenched.
“I will always find you,” I told her.
Her eyes slid shut again as exhaustion pulled her back under, but her grip stayed tight, like sleep itself might steal me away if she loosened it.
I stayed right there, holding on.
Because saving her had only been the beginnin’.
Now came the part where I made damn sure she never had to survive alone again.
That is if she forgive me.