Chapter 55
The front door closes behind Matteo with a solid click that seems to echo through the entire clubhouse.
Nobody moves right away.
The tension he leaves behind hangs in the room like smoke, thick and bitter and impossible to ignore. Every brother in the room is still keyed up, every instinct screaming that letting a man like that walk back out of here breathing is a mistake. But none of that matters to me right now.
Only her.
Olivia is still pressed against my chest so tightly I can feel the tremors running through her body. Not dramatic shaking. Worse. Small, constant tremors she can’t control no matter how hard she’s trying to hold herself together. And she is trying.
Jesus Christ, she’s trying so fucking hard.
My arms tighten around her automatically.
Her hands are fisted in my cut hard enough that the leather pulls tight across my shoulders.
Her face stays buried against my neck like she’s afraid if she looks away, this will disappear too.
I look down at her slowly. Now that she’s here.
Now that I can actually fucking see her.
The damage hits harder.
Her skin is too pale. Shadows sit beneath her eyes like bruises.
Exhaustion clings to every inch of her body, dragging her posture down even while she forces herself upright.
And then there’s her throat. Anger flashes so violently through me my vision nearly whites out.
Bruises ring the base of her neck in dark red and purple marks.
Angry indentations from the collar cut across her skin, raw in places where the metal must’ve rubbed.
My jaw locks so hard it hurts. I force my breathing even.
Not now.
She needs steady. Not violent. One hand stays firm at her waist while the other slides carefully to the back of her neck, avoiding the bruised skin as much as I can. “Doc.”
I don’t say it loud. Don’t need to.
The room reacts instantly anyway because everybody hears what’s underneath it.
Doc is already moving before the word fully leaves my mouth.
Olivia stiffens. It’s small. Most people probably wouldn’t catch it.
I do.
Her body tightens against mine the second another person starts closing distance, survival instinct firing before her brain catches up. I shift automatically. One step. Just enough to put myself slightly between her and the room without isolating her from it. Protection. Not confinement.
Doc slows when he reaches us, eyes moving over her carefully. He’s smart enough not to crowd her. Smart enough not to pity her. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says gently. “Let me take a look at you.”
“I’m fine.” The response comes too fast. Automatic. Not true.
My hand flexes against her waist. She’s not fine. Not even fucking close.
Doc clearly knows it too, but he doesn’t push. “Mmhm,” he says. “Humor me anyway.”
Olivia finally lifts her head enough to look at him, though one hand stays twisted tightly in the front of my cut.
Doc reaches carefully toward her throat. She flinches before he even touches her. Barely noticeable. Still there. I feel something ugly shift inside me. Doc notices too, but all he does is lower his hand slightly. “I’m just checking the bruising.”
She nods once. Rigid.
He examines the marks with practiced calm while the room stays unnaturally quiet around us. Nobody’s pretending things are normal. Nobody’s trying to fill the silence.
There’s nothing normal about any of this.
Doc’s expression darkens slightly as he studies the bruising. “Collar?”
Olivia swallows hard. “Yeah.”
His jaw tightens, but he keeps his tone level. “Any trouble breathing?”
“No.”
“Dizziness?”
“Not really.”
“Headaches?”
She hesitates. “Some.”
Doc nods once. “You’re going to have bruising for a while. Probably soreness swallowing too.” His eyes move over her face again. “Anything else hurt?” The question hangs. Too broad. Too loaded.
Olivia’s body goes tighter against mine instead of answering.
Doc doesn’t push.
Smart man.
“I’ll want to check you over properly later,” he says instead. “But you’re safe right now.”
Safe.
The word hits the room strangely. Like nobody fully trusts it anymore.
A heavy silence settles again before Cain finally speaks from near the back wall. “What happened after the feed cut?”
Everything in Olivia goes still. Her fingers tighten in my cut so suddenly the leather creaks.
Fuck.
I look down at her immediately. She’s staring at nothing now. Not the room. Not the people. Somewhere else entirely. Back there. Her breathing changes. Shallower.
I slide my hand farther up her neck, grounding her as much as I can. “You don’t have to—”
“No,” she whispers.
Her voice cracks slightly. Then she swallows and tries again. “No. They should know.” Nobody interrupts. Nobody moves.
The entire room waits.
Olivia finally pulls back enough to look around the room, though she stays tucked tightly against my side. “Eli tried to stop them,” she says quietly. “They kept telling him to… to touch me. To…” Her voice falters hard. “They said they were breaking me in.”
The room darkens instantly.
Shadow’s expression turns murderous.
Blaze looks sick.
Joker stops smiling completely.
Olivia keeps going anyway. “He wouldn’t do it.” Tears fill her eyes, but she forces the words out. “They hit him. They kept threatening him, and he still wouldn’t do it.”
My chest feels like it’s being split open from the inside listening to this. “He told them no,” she whispers. “Over and over.”
Nobody breathes.
“They shot him.” The words hit like a fucking bomb.
Mac covers her mouth.
Kya drops her eyes immediately.
Raven’s face goes cold in that dangerous, silent way that says violence is coming later.
Olivia’s voice shakes harder now. “He fell beside the bed.” Her breathing stutters. “And there was blood everywhere and…” She stops abruptly. Her face changes. Not panic. Not horror. Something quieter.
Worse.
Her eyes slowly lift around the room. To Logan. Cain. Dom. Me. Understanding starts building piece by piece. “You knew,” she says softly. Nobody answers. Nobody needs to. Her face drains further. “You saw it.”
Fuck. That one hurts. Not because she’s wrong. Because she’s realizing it now.
She looks up at me then. And I watch the exact moment it fully lands. I saw what they did to her. Every fucking second of it. That realization tears through her face so sharply I’d rather take another bullet than watch it happen.
Her lips part slightly. “I…” Her voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” The word comes out instantly. Sharp.
She barely hears me. “I tried—” Her breathing turns uneven. “I tried not to let them—”
“No.”
“I’m sorry they—” Her voice cuts off completely. Tears spill over finally. And then the worst part comes. “I let them win.”
The entire room freezes.
Something vicious rises up my spine so fast I nearly choke on it. My hand comes up under her jaw immediately, firm enough to make her look at me. “No.”
Her eyes are wrecked. Destroyed. “I—”
“You don’t say that shit,” I snap. Not at her. Never at her. At the fucking idea. At the poison crawling through her head. “None of this is on you.”
Her face crumples harder. “But—”
“No.” I force her to hold my gaze. Need her to hear me. “They kidnapped you,” I say harshly. “They tortured you. They violated you. That is on them.”
Her breathing breaks apart completely. “I’m sorry. I was stupid. I just wanted to go shopping,” she whispers.
Trauma logic.
I recognize it immediately even if I don’t know the name for it. The need to find control by finding fault.
“I made Eli take me.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” Tears stream down her face openly now. “If I stayed here, he’d still be alive.”
Fuck.
The room feels like it caves inward.
“He died because of my choices.”
“No.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Her entire body shakes harder. “The chain started with me.”
Before I can answer, Logan steps forward. The room quiets automatically. Even hurt, even limping, he still fills space like a president. Like authority. Like home. He stops in front of her, his expression grim but steady. “Look at me, Olivia.” She does. Slowly. “Nobody in this room blames you.”
Her mouth opens immediately. “But—”
“No,” Logan cuts in firmly. “You listen.” Silence drops hard. “Eli knew what this life was when he patched in as a prospect,” Logan says. “He knew the risks. He knew what we protect.”
Olivia shakes her head weakly. “He was there because of me.”
“He was there because he chose to stand beside this club.” That lands. Hard. Logan’s voice lowers slightly. “He died protecting someone under our protection.” The room goes deadly still. “That matters.”
Emotion tightens my throat unexpectedly.
Logan looks at the prospects lining the walls then back at Olivia. “He died like a brother,” he says quietly. “So we bury him like one.”
Fuck.
Even Joker drops his eyes for a second. Connor looks wrecked.
Tate’s jaw tightens hard enough to crack.
The women are emotional too. Emma leans into Cain’s side while Brooke quietly wipes at her eyes.
Mac presses close to Logan despite his injuries, her hand sliding into his.
The room mourns together without falling apart.
And Olivia absorbs every second of it like she’s trying to carry the entire weight herself. Too much.
She’s taking in too much. I feel it happening. See the way her breathing changes again. See exhaustion dragging at her harder now that adrenaline’s fading. She needs out of this room.
Now.
My hand slides lower against her back, pulling her tighter against my side. “I’m taking her upstairs.”
Logan nods immediately. No hesitation. No argument. “Go.” That’s all he says.
I don’t waste another second. Olivia clings to me the second I start moving.
Not subtly. Not carefully. Like letting go would physically destroy her.
And maybe it would. Her fingers stay locked in my shirt while I guide her toward the stairs slowly, keeping one arm tight around her waist the entire time. Nobody stops us. Nobody says anything.
The room parts automatically.
Family protecting family.
As we reach the stairs, Olivia presses closer again, her breathing uneven against my throat. I tighten my hold instinctively. She’s here.
Alive.
Broken in ways I don’t fully know how to fix yet. But she’s here.
And I swear to fucking God…
Nobody will ever touch her again.