Wren
She immediately froze when the memory came rushing back of the two of them running into the warehouse fire to rescue the hostages. She remembered the confessions from Buck and Ghost telling her that they loved her.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, and the sunlight streamed through the curtains.
Snow covered the world outside, and Buck was asleep.
The sight nearly stopped her heart. The man who looked like he had been carved from granite while awake somehow looked younger while sleeping.
His arm remained draped protectively across her waist even in sleep as if he couldn't help himself.
It was like his body naturally gravitated toward protecting her.
A warm chuckle sounded behind her, and she twisted carefully to find that Ghost was awake, watching her. His injured shoulder rested against a pile of pillows while amusement danced in his pale eyes. "Morning, sweetheart."
Heat instantly flooded her cheeks, and Ghost's grin widened. "That's adorable."
"What is?" she asked.
"The blushing,” he said. Wren grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, and Ghost laughed.
"Violence already? We just woke up,” he teased.
Buck groaned beside her, and the deep sound immediately pulled both their attention. Slowly, Buck opened one eye, and then the other, and he reached for her without hesitation. His hand settled against her hip, possessively.
"You okay?" he asked. The question made her chest ache because after everything, that was still his first concern. Not himself, but her.
"I'm okay,” she said. Buck studied her for another second and then nodded when he seemed satisfied with her answer.
Ghost looked personally offended. "I almost died too,” he grumbled.
Buck didn't even look at him. "You'll complain if you're really hurt."
"Damn right,” Ghost said as though it was something that he was proud of. Wren laughed as the sound filled the room, and for one perfect moment, everything felt normal.
A knock sounded at the door, and all three of them groaned. Ghost dramatically threw an arm over his eyes. "If that's Reaper, tell him I died."
The door opened, and the older biker stepped inside carrying a cup of coffee. "You're alive,” Reaper said.
Ghost sighed. “Tragic, but true.” Reaper ignored him.
His expression sobered as he looked toward Buck. "What is it?" Buck asked.
Reaper handed him a folder. "We got statements from the women we rescued.
" Buck sat up straighter, and Ghost did too.
Wren's stomach tightened because suddenly this wasn't just their story anymore.
It was about everyone else who had suffered along with her.
It was about everyone Eli and the traffickers had hurt.
Reaper crossed his arms. "The numbers are worse than we thought." Buck opened the folder, and the color drained from his face. Wren had never seen that happen before.
"What?" Ghost asked. Buck looked up slowly, and murder lived in his eyes—cold, controlled, and terrifying.
"There's another facility,” Buck breathed.
The words hit like a punch to her gut. "No," Wren whispered.
Reaper nodded grimly. "One of the girls gave us a location before the police arrived." Buck closed the folder, and the sound echoed through the room.
"How many girls do they have there?" Ghost asked.
"Nobody knows,” Reaper admitted. Ghost cursed viciously, and Wren's heart sank, because she'd hoped this was over and they would finally be able to breathe, heal, and figure out whatever existed between the three of them. Instead, more women were still trapped and suffering.
Buck looked toward the window and the snow-covered north. He looked back at Wren, and she immediately knew what he was thinking. Absolutely not. "No."
Buck blinked. "What?"
"No,” she repeated, feeling the doom of Deja Vue. Ghost started laughing immediately, but Buck looked confused. Wren pointed at both men. "No more burning buildings." Ghost laughed harder, and Buck actually looked offended.
"We haven't even discussed anything yet,” Buck said.
"You have that face,” she breathed.
"What face?" Buck asked.
"The heroic face you wore just before running into a burning building yesterday.” Ghost nearly fell off the bed laughing, and Buck glared at both of them.
Wren wasn't intimidated—not even a little bit- because she knew him now, and she knew Ghost too.
She knew exactly what kind of men they were.
They were the kind who couldn't walk away when somebody needed help, even if it killed them.
Buck's expression softened, and he reached for her hand. Ghost immediately took the other, and the simple gesture made her chest ache. "Nobody's leaving today," Buck said quietly.
Ghost nodded. "Today, we stay here."
"And rest,” Buck said.
"And heal," Ghost added.
"And spend time with the woman we almost burned a warehouse down over,” Buck teased.
Wren rolled her eyes, and Buck actually smiled.
For the first time since this nightmare began, Wren allowed herself to believe they might actually have a future.
Sure, it would be a complicated one. It would be messy, but it would be theirs.
Unfortunately, judging by the look Reaper was giving them, that peace probably wasn't going to last very long.
Wren should have known peace wouldn't last. The Kings of Anarchy clubhouse had been quiet for exactly six hours, and she was beginning to think that had to be some kind of record.
By noon, Buck and Ghost were both downstairs arguing with Reaper while half the clubhouse crowded around maps spread across the war room table, and Wren stood in the corner shamelessly eavesdropping.
She stood outside the partially open door with a cup of coffee in her hands while Leah stood beside her looking equally annoyed.
"They're planning something,” she whispered.
Leah snorted. "Obviously."
"They promised they weren't going to do any of this today,” Wren breathed.
“Believing that they’d stay out of this for any amount of time was your first mistake,” Leah said. Wren sighed because that was a fair assessment.
Inside the room, Buck stood at the head of the table, looking entirely too handsome for a man discussing tactical operations.
The bandage beneath his shirt should've slowed him down, but it didn't. Ghost sat beside him with his injured shoulder strapped into a sling and somehow still managed to look like trouble.
Reaper pointed at a map. "The facility is here."
Buck nodded. “How far away is that?” he asked.
"Three hours north,” Reaper said. Wren's eye twitched, and Leah looked over at her.
The two women exchanged a look and then simultaneously pushed the door open.
The room went silent, and every biker froze.
Buck looked guilty as hell as he held one of the maps, and Ghost looked delighted that they had been caught plotting.
Reaper immediately started backing away from the table.
He was a smart man because she had a feeling that things were about to get ugly.
"Wren," Buck began carefully.
"Don’t Wren me,” she insisted. Ghost laughed, and Buck shot him a glare, making him laugh harder. Wren marched straight into the room and planted both hands on the table. "You promised." Buck looked completely unrepentant.
"We said we weren't leaving today,” Buck reminded.
"Yet, here you are planning on leaving me again,” she insisted.
"Technically,” Buck said. Ghost made an extremely poor attempt at hiding his grin, and Wren pointed at him.
"Don't encourage him,” she spat.
"Impossible." Ghost leaned back in his chair. "He's naturally gifted." Buck looked proud of that, and Wren actually considered violence.
"You two almost died yesterday,” Leah said. The room quieted because nobody could really argue with that. Ghost's smile faded slightly, and Buck looked away.
Wren crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t miss the way that her guys looked her over. "There's law enforcement involved now, so do you guys really need to be involved, too?” she asked.
Buck nodded. "Yes."
"Federal investigators, too,” she said.
"Yes,” Ghost said.
"Task forces,” she breathed.
"Yes,” Buck said.
"Then why exactly are you planning another rescue mission?” she questioned. Buck and Ghost exchanged a look. It was the kind of look that made Wren want to scream, because she already knew the answer—neither man could walk away from this. Not when people still needed help.
Buck finally exhaled. "There are women trapped in there." And she realized that was the impossible, frustrating reason she loved him—Ghost too.
Leah groaned. "You're both idiots."
"Correct," Reaper agreed. “They are.” Buck ignored all of them, even when Wren stared at him. She noticed all the bruises still fading along his jaw and the healing cut near his eyebrow. She saw the exhaustion he was trying to hide, and underneath all of it, the impossible goodness in him.
Buck reached for her hand suddenly, lacing his fingers through hers. "We aren't going today."
Wren narrowed her eyes. "You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?" she asked. Ghost winced, and Wren had her answer. Buck laughed, and she couldn’t help but start laughing too, because honestly, what else could she do?
Buck looked relieved, and somehow the tension broke. A few minutes later, the meeting dissolved into smaller conversations while Reaper and Leah argued over logistics. Ghost wandered off to bother prospects—probably to traumatize them. But Wren remained beside Buck.
The room finally quieted around them, and for the first time all day, Buck tugged her against his body. "You mad?" Buck asked her.
"Very,” she breathed.
"That’s fair,” Buck said. She smiled despite herself as Buck brushed a loose curl behind her ear. The simple gesture melted something inside her. "You know I have to help." The confession came softly.
Wren looked up at him. "I know." The problem was that she understood him and Ghost. She understood why neither man could look away from other people while they were suffering, and that made it impossible to stay angry at either of them.
Buck's expression softened. "You should stay here." Wren blinked up at him and laughed, causing Buck to frown. "Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"You really think I'm staying behind?" she asked. Understanding dawned on his handsome face slowly.
Buck sighed. "Oh no."
"Oh yes,” she countered.
His eyes closed briefly. "Wren."
"You don’t get to just leave me behind, Buck,” she said.
"You don't know what—" he started.
"I mapped the trafficking routes,” she reminded, not letting him finish what he was about to say to her.
She was done being protected like fragile glass.
She'd survived kidnapping, escaped a cage, and helped expose a trafficking network.
She wasn't about to sit quietly now while others remained trapped.
Buck rubbed a hand down his face and then muttered the exact words she wanted to hear.
"Ghost is gonna love this." A wicked smile spread across Wren's face because Ghost absolutely was, and if Buck thought he had trouble protecting one stubborn person before, he was about to discover what happened when all three of them started making reckless decisions together.