Chapter 17
Avery
The night air was cold, but Avery barely felt it.
Not with Rook’s hand firm on her lower back, guiding her toward his bike like she was something breakable. Something precious. Something his.
Her pulse still hadn’t settled from the break-in, but now it was racing for an entirely different reason.
Rook stopped beside his midnight black motorcycle and turned to face her. The streetlight caught the hard line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the storm still simmering in his eyes.
“Ever been on a bike before?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
His gaze softened, barely. “Then listen to me. Sit close, keep your hands on me, and don’t lean unless I do. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He stepped closer, lifting the helmet in both hands. Her lungs forgot how to work as he gently cupped the sides of her head, guiding it down over her hair. His fingers brushed her temples, her jaw, the back of her neck, slow, careful, steadying.
She didn’t realize she was trembling until he stilled her chin with one hand.
“You’re safe with me,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “I’ve got you.”
Her throat tightened. “Noah…”
“I know.” He fastened the strap beneath her chin, his knuckles grazing her skin. “I know, Aves. Just breathe.”
She tried. It came out shaky.
“You hold on to me,” he said, eyes locked on hers through the visor. “No matter what.”
She nodded, because words weren’t happening.
“That’s my girl,” His voice dropped even lower. “Come here.”
He swung onto the bike first, powerful, fluid, controlled. Avery climbed on behind him, her legs unsteady, her breath still uneven from the break-in. She hesitated for half a second, unsure where to put her hands.
Noah didn’t wait.
He reached back, found her wrists, and pulled her arms firmly around his waist.
Her palms pressed to his stomach, solid muscle beneath warm cotton. She felt him exhale, felt the tension ripple through him like he was fighting something he didn’t want to name.
“Closer,” he murmured.
She slid forward until her chest was flush with his back. His heat wrapped around her, grounding her, overwhelming her, chasing the last of the terror from her bones.
He didn’t move for a moment.
Didn’t breathe.
Then, quietly, almost like the words slipped out of him:
“Good girl.”
Her heart jumped, her fingers tightening instinctively in his shirt.
The engine roared to life beneath them, vibrating through her legs, her ribs, her spine, through every place she touched him.
And for the first time since the banging on the door, she felt like she could breathe again.
Wind whipped past her. Her heart pounded. Her fingers curled tighter into his shirt.
She felt everything: the strength in his back, the flex of his shoulders, the way he leaned into turns like he trusted her to follow his body without hesitation.
And she did.
She held onto him like he was the only solid thing in the world.
After some time, the Bloodline Saints clubhouse rose out of the darkness like a fortress — brick, steel, neon, and the low thrum of music vibrating through the walls. Bikes lined the front like a row of sleeping beasts.
Noah parked near the entrance and helped her off the bike, his hands lingering at her waist a moment longer than necessary.
Inside, the clubhouse was alive: warm lights, leather couches, a bar stocked with bottles, a pool table, a dartboard, and walls covered in Saints patches and photos. Men moved through the space with purpose, nodding respectfully when they saw Rook.
“VP,” one said.
“Rook,” another greeted.
Avery felt the shift immediately.
This wasn’t Noah the boy she knew. This was Rook — the man they followed.
He guided her to the main room, his hand never leaving her back. “Sit here. I’ll be right back. I need to talk with Ledger.”
She nodded, sinking onto a leather couch. Her heart was still racing from the ride, the adrenaline, the closeness.
Rook crossed the room to Ledger, who was already pulling up camera feeds on a laptop.
“We’ll install a full system at the bakery,” Ledger said. “High-res, motion-activated, cloud-backed. No blind spots.”
“Tonight,” Rook growled.
Ledger nodded. “Already on it.”
Avery watched them, the efficiency, the seriousness, the way Rook’s presence commanded the room. He wasn’t just part of the club.
He was a pillar of it.
A large man with silver threaded through his beard approached her quietly and lowered himself into the chair across from her. His presence was calm, steady, the kind that settled the air without trying.
“You okay?” he asked.
Avery nodded, though her hands were still shaking. “I think so.”
He offered a small, reassuring nod. “Name’s Stone,” he said. “I’m the president. You did the right thing calling him.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t even think. I just… dialed.”
“That’s how it is with him,” Stone said. “Always has been.”
Avery looked down at her hands. “He’s different.”
Stone huffed a soft laugh. “He’s the same where it matters. Just… more.”
She hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How did he get his road name? Rook?”
Stone’s expression softened with something like pride. “He earned it. Hard.”
Avery leaned in.
“First year he was with us,” Stone said, “we got caught in a bad situation with a rival crew. Outnumbered. Outgunned. We were boxed in behind an abandoned warehouse. No way out.”
Avery’s breath caught.
“Rook was the one who saw it,” Stone continued. “A gap in their formation. A weakness. He moved first. Drew their attention. Took the hit so the rest of us could reposition.”
Avery’s stomach twisted. “He got hurt?”
“Bad,” Stone said. “But he didn’t go down. He kept fighting. Kept protecting us. He played the board like a chess master. Saw moves ahead of the rest of us. Saved lives that night.”
Avery swallowed hard.
“That’s when we started calling him Rook,” Stone said. “The piece that stands between the king and danger. The one that takes the hit so others don’t have to.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“He’s loyal,” Stone said quietly. “To a fault. And when he loves someone…” He shook his head. “He loves hard.”
Avery’s drew in a sharp breath. “Stone…”
He held up a hand. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you who he is.”
She looked across the room.
Rook stood with Ledger, shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes flicking toward her every few seconds like he couldn’t help himself.
The boy she’d known was still there, the one who’d almost kissed her in the bakery at sixteen and looked at her like she hung the moon.
But now he was a man.
A man who carried weight. Responsibility. Respect. Danger. Loyalty. And scars she hadn’t seen before.
Avery felt something shift inside her, something deep, something old, something new.
Respect. Understanding. And something warmer she didn’t want to name.
Stone stood. “He’ll take care of you tonight.”
Avery nodded. “I know.”
Stone smiled faintly. “Good. Because he’d burn the world down if he couldn’t.”