Sarah #4
The room was simple, with a bed, dresser, a small television, a window, and a bathroom attached. There was only one door. Harlow opened it. “No one comes in unless you say so,” Ripper promised. Sarah looked at the lock on the door and then back at Ripper.
He reached into his pocket, held up a screwdriver, and Sarah blinked up at him. “You brought tools?”
“Told you I'd change the lock,” he reminded.
Harlow looked between them. “You did?” she asked.
Ripper shrugged. “It’s easy enough,” he admitted.
Sarah stared at him. “You were serious.”
“Usually am,” he said.
Harlow snorted. “No, he's not.”
“Traitor,” Ripper grumbled under his breath.
Sarah laughed as Ripper crouched beside the door.
Within minutes, he had the old lock removed.
Sarah watched him. His hands were scarred, but strong and capable.
Hands she'd seen holding a gun were the same hands that now carefully fitted a new lock onto her bedroom door so that she’d feel safe. Something inside her shifted.
When he finished, Ripper stood, and he held out two keys. “Both yours.”
Sarah took them. “No copy?”
“Nope,” Ripper said.
“Does Butcher have one?” she asked.
“No, he doesn't have one,” Ripper admitted.
“Do Harlow or Princess have a copy?” she asked.
“Hell no,” Ripper said.
From the hallway, Princess shouted, “I heard that!” Sarah laughed again, and Ripper smiled.
She closed her fingers around the keys—her keys. This was her room, her door, and her choice of who came and went. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Ripper looked uncomfortable. “You don't have to thank me.”
“I know.” That made him look at her, and Sarah smiled. “But I want to.”
His expression softened. “Then you're welcome.”
Harlow and Princess left a few minutes later to give Sarah time to settle. Ripper stayed near the doorway. He wasn’t inside or outside the room—but somewhere between. He was just standing guard.
Sarah put her duffel on the bed. “You can go.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He turned, and she panicked.
“Ripper.” He stopped, and Sarah hated herself a little.
He looked back at her. “What?”
She curled her fingers around the new keys. “Are you coming back?” The question made the room go very quiet, and Ripper's expression changed.
“If you want me to,” he breathed.
Sarah swallowed. She wasn't ready to understand why the thought of him leaving bothered her. She wasn't ready for a lot of things, but maybe she could handle one truth. “I think I do,” she admitted.
Ripper nodded. “Then yeah, I’ll be back,” he promised.
“When?” she asked.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Will you bring coffee?” she asked.
His mouth curved. “Caramel-flavored coffee,” he said.
“And cinnamon roll?” she asked.
“Bossy,” he said.
“You started it by bringing me coffee and breakfast every day in the hospital,” she reminded.
He groaned. “I’ve created a monster,” he teased.
Sarah smiled, and Ripper stepped into the hallway. “Lock the door if you want.”
“I will,” she said.
“And if you need something—” he started.
“I know,” she whispered.
He paused, and Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to give me your number?” he asked. Ripper stared at her.
“Shit,” she breathed. “Give me your phone.” She held out her hand to him, and he pulled out his phone. Sarah programmed her number in and handed it back to him, and he turned to leave her room. Seconds later, hers buzzed on the bed. She looked at the screen and saw that it was a text from Ripper.
Ripper: Don't call unless it's important.
Sarah stared at the message, and then another appeared.
Ripper: Or not important. Don't give a fuck. Just call.
A laugh escaped her, and she looked up at him. Ripper was watching her from the hall. “You're terrible at this,” she chided.
“Been told,” he breathed. Sarah saved the number as Ripper—just Ripper. There was no last name, no club title, and no explanation, because somehow that felt right.
“Goodnight, Sarah.”
“Goodnight,” she breathed. He walked away, and Sarah closed the door and locked it.
Then, she stood there with her hand on the deadbolt.
Nobody could open it. Nobody could come inside.
Nobody could decide when she left. It was her room, her key, and her choice.
Sarah leaned against the door and closed her eyes.
For the first time in eight months, she was behind a locked door and didn't feel trapped.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked.
Ripper: Eat something.
Sarah stared at the screen and then smiled.
Sarah: Stop telling me what to do.
The reply came almost instantly.
Ripper: Nope.
She laughed. Alone in a room she'd chosen to enter, behind a door she'd chosen to lock, with a dangerous biker she'd somehow chosen to trust waiting somewhere on the other side.
Maybe freedom wasn't one big moment. Maybe it was a thousand tiny choices.
Tonight, Sarah had made several, and for some reason she didn't understand yet, more and more of them seemed to have Ripper standing somewhere nearby.
Ripper’s Rage Universal Link->
Ready for your next binge read? Then you won’t want to miss Moonlight and Mayhem! It’s releasing in October 2026!