Chapter 8
Aria
I watch as Jackson sweeps the last pile of glass into the dustpan.
His movements are careful, deliberate. I know he’s doing it because he doesn’t want me to get cut.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded taking care of it.
Cleaning up would have given me something to focus on instead of the storm around us right now.
Beau, on the other hand, is finishing up with the tarp that he ran a few stores down to pick up. He’s securing the last piece over the shattered window. His broad shoulders flex with every movement, his face a mask of concentration.
Dayla left right after the detective did.
She was shaken up, but she insisted she’d be back tomorrow for her shift.
Before she left, she mentioned that she’d be hitting the bottle to calm her nerves.
I couldn’t blame her, honestly. She’s been through more on her first day than most employees would handle in a month.
I told her again not to worry, that none of this was her fault.
Still, I can tell by the way she looked at me when she left that she’s feeling guilty.
I lean against the counter as I watch the guys work. With every task they finish around the shop, it feels like we’re inching closer to normal.
Jackson's phone starts to ring, shattering the momentary peace. He pulls it out of his pocket without hesitation and looks at the screen. His expression flickers, then sharpens as he looks up at me. “It’s Nolan,” he says, his voice casual.
He steps away from the counter and answers the call.
I can’t hear what Nolan’s saying, but Jackson’s body language gives away everything.
I watch his jaw tighten, his brows furrow, and his fingers tap against the side of the phone as he listens.
His gaze flicks to Beau briefly, and starts speaking in clipped sentences, his tone businesslike. “Yeah, that’s fine. Yeah, our place.” He rattles off our home address.
When he hangs up, he looks at both of us, “They’re here,” he says, his voice calm. “Nolan and Liam. We should probably start heading back to the house. It’ll be nice to see them both again.”
Beau doesn’t even hesitate. He nods and begins gathering the last of the supplies he used to cover the window. There’s something in his eyes. Something distant. Clearly, he's already moving into a different mode. A mode where he knows things are getting serious.
“Alright. Let’s go. I guess it’s time for me to officially meet your biker friends,” I say, taking a deep breath.
I’m sitting on the couch, legs tucked underneath me, watching Jackson and Beau move around the living room. Jackson’s cleaning up remnants of the mess we left behind this morning. Beau, on the other hand, is vacuuming the floor, picking up stuff as he goes.
“Nolan and Liam will be staying in a hotel while they are here.” Jackson says, voice steady as he works. “There’s only our bedroom, and the other room doesn’t have a bed. Plus, I think they might be too big to fit on the couch together.”
Beau stops vacuuming for a moment and tosses a glance over his shoulder. “Well, we’re not cramming them into our bed, that’s for sure.”
I laugh, the sound light. I pull one of the throw blankets next to me over my lap. “Yeah, I had to get used to sleeping with two men. I don’t think I could handle four.”
I feel the vibrations from bikes before the roar of the engines hit my ears.
My heart pounds with anticipation of what's about to arrive at my front door. I have always lived a quiet life, and I can almost guarantee tonight will be anything except quiet. Jackson and Beau exchange a look. They have a way of communicating with each other where no words are needed. A quiet understanding passing between them. Beau's expression shifts to one that’s all fire and excitement. While Jackson’s expression softens just a touch.
The faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door.
Beau’s moving before I can even blink. He moves fast, his long legs eating up the distance.
He slams open the door, and there they are.
Liam and Nolan, filling up the doorway. The air crackles with a familiar tension, the kind that only comes from a reunion between brothers.
This is between men who’ve seen things together, things that bond them in ways nothing else can.
“Alright, boys,” he says, giving me a quick glance before turning back to Liam and Nolan. “This is Aria, our girl.”
I slowly rise from the couch, my eyes immediately drawn to them as they take their place in the living room.
The first man steps up and shakes my hand, “This is Liam.” Beau says.
He offers me a smile that’s equal parts charming and mischievous.
He looks to be in his late twenties, probably around my age, with a clean-shaven head that makes the tattoos covering his neck and arms even more striking.
His dark beard is full and tame. His eyes are the same sharp blue as Beau's, and they immediately assess me. His body’s lean, but you can tell he’s no stranger to strength.
His muscles are defined, but not bulky like Jackson or Beau.
He looks to be the shortest man in the room standing about six feet, but he still towers over me by several inches.
Next, Beau gestures to Nolan. My breath hitches a little when my gaze shifts to him.
Somehow he's both intimidating and undeniably magnetic.
His blonde hair is shaved on the sides with just enough length on top to give it some texture.
The beard framing his jawline is the same color blonde matching his appearance perfectly.
The next thing I'm drawn to is his eyes…wow. They’re the color of molten silver.
Truthfully they are almost unnerving in their intensity.
He’s built like a wall of muscle. There’s no mistaking the power in his frame.
He’s easily as tall as Jackson, maybe a little more, standing around six and a half feet.
His presence is enough to make the room feel even smaller, and I can’t help but notice the way his body moves.
Just like Jackson, he’s always on alert, ready for anything.
Beau, noticing me taking in their appearances, smirks. “I know, right? A lot to take in. But they are good people, trust me.”
I stand up straighter, brushing off the sudden nerves that rush through me. They’re both so different from Jackson and Beau in some ways, yet I can tell they all share the same fire, the same bond. They’re brothers, through and through.
I take a small step toward them. “It’s nice to meet you.” My voice comes out a little more nervous than I thought it would but they don't seem to notice. I extend my arm and make sure to meet both of their gazes as I shake their hands.
I step back and Beau rests his hand on my shoulder. “You good, babe?” His voice teasing but affectionate, which makes a nervous laugh slip out of me.
“Yeah, I'm great.” I reply, glancing between all four men.
Liam laughs, and it fills the room. “You’ll get used to the craziness we bring along with us. We’re like a damn tornado when we’re all together.”
Nolan grins, that sharp silver gaze softening. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite. At least not at first.” His voice is teasing, and somehow he makes it feel like a warning and an invitation all at once.
Jackson finally speaks up, “Now that we got that out of the way, what is the fucking surprise you were talking about?”
Nolan gives Jackson a quick, almost dramatic nod, and before anyone can say anything else, he turns and bolts for the door with a speed that I didn’t expect for someone his size.
“Oh, hell yes! You’re going to love this!” He yells, already halfway across the front porch.
Beau chuckles softly, shaking his head, while Jackson’s eyes follow Nolan with an unreadable expression, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks. “What the hell is he up to now?” Jackson mutters, but he’s clearly intrigued.
Liam’s already making himself at home, stretching his arms wide and cracking his knuckles.
A moment later, Nolan’s back in the doorway, holding something in his hands. He steps into the living room, the leather of the vests catching the light, and the room instantly quiets down as everyone’s attention snaps to him.
“Check these out,” Nolan says, his voice now deep with pride as he holds up two leather vests. The kind you’d expect to see on the back of a serious rider. They are both weathered, worn, but strong. The smell of leather fills the room as he hands one to Jackson, then tosses the other to Beau.
Beau catches his with a practiced motion, immediately pulling it on without hesitation. Jackson, however, takes his time. He runs his fingers over the stitching, feeling the familiar weight of it, and his eyes narrow in a mix of disbelief and shock.
The logo on the back of both vests is clear. It is from their club back home. The words Vanguard Rebels MC are stitched in bold, black lettering. Miami, Florida curves along the bottom in the same sharp font. It’s their brotherhood mark, a part of their past they thought was gone forever.
Jackson’s eyes flick from the vest to Nolan, his voice rough with a mix of emotions. “I didn’t think you guys would keep these around after we left.”
Nolan just grins, leaning back against the door frame as if he’s already expecting the reaction.
There’s a heavy silence that fills the room, and I watch Jackson’s fingers tighten around the edges of the vest. His eyes darken with something I can’t quite place, something old, something raw.