Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
KADE
Class dismisses but I don't move. Just lean back in my chair and wait while students file out, their voices fading down the hallway.
Fallon busies herself with papers on her desk, pretending she's not hyperaware of me still sitting here.
The last person leaves.
I crook my finger at her.
She looks at the door, then back at me. Her cheeks are still flushed from my poem.
"Kade—"
"Come here, Peaches."
She walks over slowly, those heels clicking against the floor. When she's close enough, I grab her hips and position her exactly where I want her—back to the door so I have a clear view if anyone approaches.
My hand slides up her thigh, pushing under her skirt.
"Kade, someone will catch us." She tries to back away.
I grab the front of her panties and yank her back to me. Hard.
She gasps, stumbles forward, hands landing on my shoulders for balance.
"I want to see if you liked your poem." My voice comes out rough as I pull her panties to the side and run my fingers over her slick pussy. "Yeah. You liked it."
I look up at her with lust-filled eyes while my fingers explore how wet she is. So fucking wet.
"I need to be inside you again." I thrust two fingers deep, making her whimper and grip my shoulders tighter. "When can I fuck this sweet cunt, Peaches?"
She bites her lip, trying to stay quiet as I work my fingers deeper.
"After school lets out today?" I ask, still thrusting. Making her ride my hand right here in her classroom.
She moans, mouth opening to answer—
Movement in my peripheral vision. Two students walking up to her door.
Fuck.
I remove my hand from under her skirt and bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact. She tastes like heaven and sin mixed together.
Her eyes widen, face going even redder.
I grab my shit and stand, leaving her standing there trying to compose herself before those students walk in.
Payback for running out on me Friday.
The rest of the day drags. Classes I barely pay attention to, then deliveries for my little side hustle—dropping packages to contacts around school. Easy work that pays better than any legitimate job I could get.
I'm leaving school grounds when Jules runs up to me outside.
Not this shit again.
I just made her leave on Friday, but clearly she needs a clearer message.
She catches up and puts her hand on my chest. I grab her wrist immediately.
"I need to make something perfectly clear." My voice drops to something cold and final. "I'm not dating you. I don't want to and never will date you. I don't want anything to do with you, and I want you to stop fucking touching me."
I practically growl the last part.
She yanks her hand away, eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "Fuck you."
"I said no thanks." I turn and walk toward my bike.
"Is it someone else?" she calls after me. "Is that what this is about?"
I don't answer. Don't owe her explanations.
"You're such an asshole, Kade!"
Still don't answer. Just swing my leg over the Harley and kick it to life. The engine roars, drowning out whatever else she's screaming at me.
I pull out of the parking lot and head toward the clubhouse. Walker called a meeting for late afternoon—some shit with the cartel that needs discussing.
The ride clears my head like it always does. Wind and speed and the rumble of the engine between my thighs. This is freedom—the only kind that makes sense to me.
Twenty minutes later I roll into the compound. Several bikes already parked outside the clubhouse. I'm not late, but I'm not early either.
I pull my phone from my pocket and drop it in the lockbox outside the secure room. Standard protocol—no devices when club business gets discussed.
Inside, brothers are already gathered around the main table. Walker sits at the head like always, Spider and Sevyn flanking him. Ash, Havoc, and Beck sit on one side. Jim, Tommy, and Hammer take the other with Nick and another prospect on the end.
I drop into my usual spot and wait.
Walker lights a cigar, taking his time getting it going right. Smoke curls toward the ceiling as he goes over the normal shit first—territory disputes, collections, maintenance on the clubhouse.
Then he gets down to business.
"Damián wants to push into new territory." Walker leans back in his chair, cigar between his fingers. "Wants us to facilitate it with our Oakland chapter to start. If it goes well, there'll be more opportunities to expand. A lot more money."
Numbers get thrown around. Routes discussed. Risk assessment debated.
Finally, Walker calls for a vote.
Everyone raises their hand. Motion passes.
"Good." Walker takes another pull on his cigar.
"Now for the next part. Damián has his cousin learning the business—girl named Sofie.
She'll be running point on this." His eyes find mine across the table.
"I want Kade and Nick to run with this. With supervision, of course.
Let them dip their toes in the deep end. "
I nod, letting him know I'm down. Been waiting for something like this—real responsibility, not just prospect bullshit.
"Does anyone want to volunteer to babysit?" Walker asks the room.
"Sevyn and I will," Spider says without hesitation.
"Alright." Walker surveys us all. "Everyone else, get out. You four stay."
Chairs scrape against concrete as the others file out. Ash shoots me a look as he leaves—curiosity mixed with something like respect.
The door closes.
Walker relights his cigar, taking his time. Making us wait while he gets it burning right.
"Here's how this is going to go." Smoke streams from his mouth between words.
"The four of you will meet up with Damián and his brothers soon.
They'll give you the rundown of what they're wanting to do.
Then you guys bring that to Oakland, see what they think.
If they agree, you'll be at the first shipments to make sure they go smoothly. "
"Sounds good to me," I say.
Nick nods his agreement.
"Sounds good, boss," Spider adds.
"Alright." Walker taps ash into a tray. "I'll get the meet-up information to you as soon as I know."
He waves a hand, dismissing us.
I don't stick around to drink with the guys after. Just want to get home, clear my head. Process this new development.
"I'll see you guys at the crib," I say to Ash, who's already posted up at the bar.
"Alright, see you."
I grab my phone from the lockbox and head outside.
The sun's starting to set as I fire up the Harley. Orange and pink bleeding across the sky like a bruise.
I ride home thinking about this new deal. About Walker trusting me with something bigger than deliveries and collections. I've been part of this life since birth—literally grew up in the clubhouse after Mom died. Know the drill better than most prospects twice my age.
I'm ready for this.
The engine roars beneath me as I open up the throttle on the highway. Wind tears at my clothes, drowns out everything except the freedom of speed and movement.
This is what I was born for. MC blood runs deep in my veins, and finally Walker's acknowledging it. Not just Reaper's kid anymore—I'm becoming my own man in this world.
The cabin comes into view. I downshift, engine rumbling as I pull into my spot.
Inside, I grab a beer from the fridge and drop onto the couch. Take a long pull while my mind runs through scenarios—what this deal with the cartel could mean, how Oakland will respond, whether Damián's cousin can actually handle business or if she's just nepotism in action.
I only come to this fucking place to see her.
Walker says I need to graduate, but the truth is I'm only here for her. Can't get enough. Thought maybe after the first time I could get her out of my system—work through whatever this is and move on.
Nope.
The moment I slid inside her, I knew. This woman is mine. I will make her fucking mine.
I push through the school doors out to the parking lot, keys already in hand.
The Harley fires up with a familiar roar as I pull out of the lot and head toward the shop.
I need to work on some bikes. Occupy my mind and hands with something that isn't her.
Seeing her during class isn't enough anymore. I need more.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I stop at a red light. Unknown number. I answer, sending it through Bluetooth to my earbuds.
"Kade."
"Hi." Her voice hits me straight in the chest.
Fuck. Is something wrong? She's had my number but never used it.
I make a right turn and pull over into a parking lot, cutting the engine.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I—" She stops talking. Hesitation clear, even through the phone.
"What is it, Peaches?"
"I was wondering if you were close by the school."
"Yeah, I'm not far. Why?"
"My car won't start and I know you're good with that stuff—"
"I'll be there in five."
"Okay. Thank you."
I hang up and haul ass back to school.
She called me. Not her husband. Not a tow truck. Me.
The parking lot is mostly empty when I roll back in—just a few faculty cars scattered around. I spot hers immediately parked in her usual spot.
She's leaning against the driver's door when I pull up, arms crossed over her chest. Professional clothes—grey slacks and a cream blouse—but her hair's down today. Loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in that tight bun she usually wears.
Fuck, she's beautiful.
I kill the engine and swing off the bike.
"Hey."
"Hi." She straightens up, tucking hair behind her ear. Nervous gesture I'm starting to recognize. "I'm sorry to bother you. I tried calling roadside assistance but they said it would be at least two hours."
"Not a bother." I move toward the hood. "Pop it."
She leans back inside through the open door. The hood releases with a click.
I lift it and prop it open, scanning the engine while she comes to stand beside me. Close enough that I catch her sweet peach scent.
"Try starting it."
She slides back behind the wheel. The engine turns over but won't catch. Tries again. Same thing.
"Alright, stop." I lean over the engine, checking connections. Battery terminals look fine. I pull the dipstick—oil's good. Check the fuel line.
"What do you think it is?" She's back beside me, standing close enough that our arms almost touch.
"Could be a few things. Starter, alternator, fuel pump." I straighten up, wiping my hands on my jeans. "When's the last time you had it serviced?"
"Um." She bites her lip, thinking. "I'm not sure. Daniel usually handles that kind of thing."
Daniel.
"Yeah, well, Daniel should be handling it better." I close the hood, maybe harder than necessary.
The parking lot is empty now except for us. Golden hour light makes her hair glow, catches the green flecks in her eyes when she looks up at me.
"I can tow it to the shop," I hear myself say. "Take a proper look, figure out what's actually wrong."
"You don't have to do that—"
"I want to."
The words hang between us. Too honest. Too raw.
She swallows. "Okay. Thank you."
"You need a ride home?"
"I—" She glances at her phone. "Daniel's out of town. He won't be home until the weekend."
Something dark and possessive curls in my chest at those words. He's not there. Leaves her stranded. Doesn't take care of what's his.
But I will.
"Get on."
"What?"
I nod toward the Harley. "The bike. I'll take you home, have your car towed to the shop."
"Kade, I've never—"
"I know." I grab the spare helmet from my saddlebag and hold it out. "Trust me."
She stares at the helmet for a long moment. I watch her war with herself—propriety versus want, should versus need.
Finally, she reaches out and takes it.
"Okay."
Fuck yes.