Chapter 29 Aurora
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Aurora
Am I really doing this?
I know this isn’t what my grandmother meant when she wanted me to come to this town, and this certainly isn’t necessary for my ‘finding myself’ journey, yet here I am, willingly getting into Ryder’s truck, going with a motorcycle gang to their old... place.
Evie wanted scenic overlooks and emotional clarity.
Not… whatever this is.
The truck door shuts with a solid, final sound that feels suspiciously like commitment.
Ryder drives. Zane takes the passenger seat like he’s been assigned there by instinct rather than discussion. I end up in the back with Finn, which I suspect isn’t accidental. If this were a chessboard, I’m the piece everyone is trying not to sacrifice.
Coyote Glen looks soft at night. Warm porch lights. Darkened storefronts. Pines stacked against a navy sky like polite witnesses pretending not to know anything about gasoline or leverage or intimidation tactics.
Inside the truck, the lighting is dim. Low enough to keep the windshield reflection minimal.
Ryder drives like someone who expects to be followed even when he isn’t. His eyes flick to the rearview mirror every few seconds, not nervously, never nervously, but methodically. He keeps one hand loose on the wheel and the other resting near the console like he might need it quickly.
Predator is the only word that fits, and it causes my pulse to dance.
Zane leans slightly forward in the passenger seat, scanning side roads and intersections as we pass them. He’s mapping. Calculating. If something went wrong, I have no doubt he already knows which direction we’d take and where we’d double back.
It’s deeply alarming how reassuring that is.
Finn nudges my knee with his.
“So,” he says lightly, far too casually. “On a scale of one to wildly irresponsible, how are we feeling?”
“I resent the implication,” I reply. “I’m at least a responsible four.”
He’s keeping me talking, because if he doesn’t, my brain is going to sprint:
What if this is a trap?
What if Cole shows up with ten men and a vendetta, and this turns into a documentary narrated by someone with a deep, ominous voice?
What if I am leverage?
What if I’m not?
What if this is the exact moment sensible women pack a bag and drive toward the nearest well-lit highway?
Because there’s no way this isn’t insane. But I do think my reasoning is solid. I don’t want to be left on my own either.
We turn off the main road and onto a narrower trail, the asphalt rougher, the streetlights fewer and farther between. The town falls away behind us, replaced by industrial quiet and the faint hum of distant highway noise.
Eventually, the storage units appear ahead like a row of metal teeth under flickering security lights.
“Oh,” I murmur. “Charming.”
Finn leans closer. “Wait until you see the décor.”
Ryder pulls into a shadowed spot near the end of the row and cuts the engine. The headlights are off before the truck even finishes rolling.
The quiet that follows is loud.
Somewhere far off, something metallic rattles and then stills.
My heartbeat climbs.
And here’s the part I probably shouldn’t admit… it isn’t just fear, it’s adrenaline.
Every unnecessary thought drops away. My senses narrow. I’m acutely aware of the heaviness of the night, of the solid presence of Finn’s thigh beside mine, of the way Ryder doesn’t open his door immediately but scans the lot first.
This is their old world, and I’m stepping into it.
Ryder turns in his seat just enough to look at me directly. “Stay between us.”
“I will,” I reply.
Zane exits first, scanning left, then right. Ryder follows. Finn opens my door and offers his hand like we’re at a gala instead of a potential confrontation.
“Madam,” he says softly.
I take it.
It’s colder outside, carrying the metallic scent of old steel and oil. The storage unit Ryder walks toward has a heavier latch than the others, older and worn from use.
He unlocks it without ceremony.
The door rolls up with a grinding sound that makes my nerves jump despite myself.
Inside, the space is mostly empty now. A workbench sits against the back wall. Shelving lines one side. A half-wall in the rear separates a lounge area with worn couches and a dusty TV. Oil stains mark the concrete like shadows of whatever once lived here.
This is history.
Their history.
I can almost see it. Bikes lined up, engines in pieces, low voices discussing plans that would never make it into polite conversation.
Ryder stands near the entrance, scanning the lot even with his back half turned, like this place still demands vigilance.
I study them in the confined space.
Ryder doesn’t relax just because we’re inside. He watches the doorway and the reflection in the metal shelving like a man who learned long ago that danger doesn’t knock.
Zane shifts his stance slightly to cover a blind spot without even thinking about it.
Finn stays close to me, present enough that I can feel him if I move.
The danger terrifies me.
And if I’m being honest with myself, it also thrills me in a way that makes me question my life choices. Not because I want madness, but because this version of them is stripped down to something essential.
Finn’s hand settles lightly on my lower back.
“Breathe,” he murmurs.
I do.
In.
Out.
Ryder’s gaze flicks to me once, assessing not just the perimeter but my composure. Are you sure?
I lift my chin slightly
Yes.
I am scared.
I’m aware.
And I need to see this for myself.
Because when I decide to leave this town, when I drive away from pine trees and porch lights and men who look at me like I matter, I need to understand exactly what kind of storm I was standing inside.
“What was this place?” I finally ask. “Do I want to know?”
Ryder half shrugs. “Operations. Storage. Meetings.”
“That’s a very polite way of saying illegal things,” I reply.
A corner of Finn’s mouth lifts. “We love a rebrand.”
Zane exhales softly, but there’s no humor in it. “It was necessary at the time.”
I walk a little farther into the unit, my boots echoing faintly against the concrete. My fingers trail along the edge of the workbench, over grooves and scratches that feel… deliberate.
“Did you fix things here?” I ask.
Ryder finally turns then, fully this time, his attention locking onto me. “Sometimes.”
“And the rest of the time?”
A beat.
“Handled them.”
The way he says it doesn’t feel like a threat.
It feels like truth.
But I guess I don’t need all the details, do I?
“This is… a lot.”
Finn steps closer, his hand brushing mine briefly before settling at my wrist. “Yeah. We’re a lot.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Zane and Ryder aren’t far behind. These men… they’re dangerous. Even if they’ve changed their lives now, they have been dangerous.
And yet… I feel it again, that strange, sharp mix of fear and something dangerously close to excitement.
“I should hate this,” I admit quietly. “This situation. This place. The fact that I’m here at all.”
Finn tilts his head. “But?”
I swallow. “But I don’t.”
Zane’s voice is low when he speaks. “You understand what that means, right?”
I glance at him. “That I have questionable judgment?”
Finn huffs. “Confirmed.”
Ryder doesn’t smile. “It means you see us clearly. And you’re still here.”
My pulse spikes.
Because that’s the truth, isn’t it?
I’ve seen the edge, and I didn’t walk away.
I step closer without thinking about it.
“That’s the part that scares me,” I admit.
“Good. Means you’re not na?ve,” Finn says.
Zane’s fingers brush my arm. “And?”
I look between them.
“At the same time…” I hesitate, then force the words out. “It doesn’t make me want to run.”
I reach up instinctively, my hand gripping the back of Ryder’s neck, pulling his mouth to mine. His skin is warm, the muscles beneath taut. His breath hitches slightly, and I can feel his heat seeping through me, the pressure of his body against mine.
When he pulls away, I’m left breathless. His lips hover just above mine, his eyes locked onto mine with that same intensity that’s always been there.
Finn’s hand slides back to my waist, firmer now, and my body answers like it’s been waiting for him. Maybe it has. I curl back against him, feeling a cloud of warmth at my shoulders. His breath is at my ear.
“Are you cold?” he asks, and the real question is: do you want this?
I can’t speak. I just nod and let him pull me further into the room with the couches. I feel another presence beside me.
It’s Zane.
His fingers brush my shoulder, and then his lips are on my neck, soft and teasing. He’s slower than Ryder, more calculated, making sure every kiss is intense. His hands trace down my back, sending a shiver down my spine.
I break open, flooding me with need.
Not the trembly, uncertain kind from before.
This is tidal.
I want to drown in it. I want all three of them, at once, any way they’ll give themselves to me.
I reach for Zane with my free hand, finding his shirt collar and pulling him close, tangling our lips together with force and need.
He meets me there with a hungry little growl, his fingers kneading my back.
His teeth scrape.
Ryder’s hand slides down my arm, his thumb skating the inside of my wrist with a gentleness that should be at odds with the heat rampaging through us.
“You sure?” he mouths, more with his eyes than his lips, and I nod again, greedy, never more sure of anything.
Finn’s hand at my waist travels lower, his palm covering the curve of my hip and then dipping lower still, sliding under the hem of my sweater where my skin is hot and hypersensitive.
His hand is huge and steady, and his fingers splay wide at my stomach, pinning me there between him and Ryder, the anchor that keeps me from flying apart.
I let out a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and I don’t care that it sounds desperate. I am desperate for all of them. For right now. The pain of wanting and not having has been building all this time, and I’m ready to tear myself open for relief.