Chapter 6
SIX
SCARLETT
I was so pissed when I got home last night that I went straight to my room and haven’t left since.
Not at my dad, I get why he didn’t say anything, even if I wish he would have, but Rook was a complete asshole.
The way he came at me in the clubhouse, throwing my entire life in my face like I was some spoiled brat who didn’t deserve basic honesty from my own father… it burned. Still burns.
I walk out of my room and find Mom in the kitchen standing in front of the stove and a pan of bacon. I love bacon.
“Hey Momma,” I say, coming up and hugging her from behind, squeezing a little tighter than usual.
She pats my arm, flipping the strips with her other hand. “Good morning, baby. You finally decided to join the living?”
I snag a piece of bacon from the plate she’s already piled up and bite into it, the salty crunch grounding me a little. “Yeah. Smells too good to stay hidden forever.”
Mom swats at my hand but she’s smiling. “Figured my girl might need some comfort food after yesterday.” Her eyes soften as she looks at me. “You okay? Your dad told me about the ride… and the tail.”
I shrug, hopping up onto the counter. “I’m fine. Mostly. The follower thing freaked me out, but Dad handled it. It’s Rook who’s pissing me off.”
Mom pauses mid-flip with the bacon, glancing over her shoulder at me with that knowing look she’s had since I was little. “Rook, huh?” She lets out a soft sigh, turning down the heat on the stove before facing me fully. “What’d he do this time?”
I bite into another piece of bacon, chewing harder than necessary.
“He basically called me a spoiled princess who only came running home because my rich boyfriend cheated and my free ride ended. Said I was throwing a tantrum and that Dad should’ve kept me in the dark about the guy following us because I can’t handle the truth.
Like I’m still some naive little girl who doesn’t get how the club works. ”
Mom wipes her hands on a dish towel and leans against the counter across from me, arms crossed. Her expression softens, but there’s a hint of amusement in her eyes. “That boy… he’s always had a sharp tongue when he feels protective. Doesn’t mean he’s right, but it explains a lot.”
“Protective?” I scoff. “He was being a straight-up asshole. He doesn’t even know me anymore.”
She tilts her head, studying me the way only moms can.
“Baby girl, Rook’s not like the other guys who grew up around here.
Your dad brought him home when he was seventeen, starving, bruised, fresh off the streets after his own dad kicked him out.
He saw a scared kid trying to steal food and basically adopted him on the spot.
Rook’s been through hell most people can’t imagine.
That kind of past… it makes a man hard. Makes him lash out when he thinks someone he cares about is getting hurt or making what he sees as the same mistakes. ”
I frown, picking at the edge of the counter. “He looked at me like I was nothing but a disappointment yesterday.”
Mom smiles faintly, the kind that says she knows more than she’s letting on.
“He watched you grow up around the club, then watched you pull away for Ethan. It hit him hard, hit all of us, but Rook takes that stuff personal. He thinks the club, your dad, this life… it’s worth protecting with everything he’s got.
And right now, with that Southside Kings mess brewing and you coming home vulnerable, he’s probably scared you’ll get hurt again.
Doesn’t excuse him being cruel, though. You call him on that shit when he does it. ”
I let her words sink in, the anger in my chest loosening just a little. “I did. Told him he doesn’t know anything about me or what the last eight years were really like. It got… intense.”
Mom’s eyebrow shoots up. “Intense how?”
“Just… words. He got in my face, I got in his. Dad had to break it up before it got worse.”
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “Sounds about right for you two. There’s always been sparks there, even when you were kids.
Just be careful, Scarlett. Rook’s a good man, loyal to this club and your father to the bone, but he’s got demons.
If you’re gonna butt heads with him, make sure you’re ready for what that fire turns into. ”
I hop off the counter, grabbing another piece of bacon to hide the way my stomach flips at her words. “Trust me, there’s no ‘fire.’ He’s just an arrogant prick who needs to stay out of my business.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mom turns back to the stove, but I catch her smirk. “Just be careful. Rook’s loyal to the bone, but he’s carrying a lot of old scars. If he pushes, you push back, but don’t let him chase you off from being here. This is your home.”
The front door opens before I can reply. Heavy boots hit the floor.
Dad walks in first, followed by Rook. Rook’s eyes sweep the room and land on me for a brief second before he nods respectfully at Mom. “Morning, Jenny. Smells good.”
“Coffee’s fresh,” Mom says warmly, like nothing’s wrong. “Help yourselves.”
Dad’s face lights up when he sees me. “Good morning, baby.” He comes over and drops a kiss on the top of my head, then steals a piece of bacon from my plate with a grin. “What are you up to today?”
I smile despite everything. “Just finished polishing my resume and sent out a bunch of applications. I’ve even got a couple interviews scheduled for this week.”
“That’s my girl,” Dad says proudly, squeezing my shoulder. “Proud of you for jumping back in.”
Rook stays quiet near the counter, nodding respectfully at Mom when she offers him coffee. His storm-gray eyes flick to me for a second before he looks away. The tension is still there, thick and crackling under the surface, but he keeps his mouth shut in front of my parents. Smart man.
Dad and Rook start talking low about club business. I turn back to my laptop, jaw still a little tight, but the pride in Dad’s voice helps ease some of the anger simmering in my chest.
The second Rook mutters something about heading to the compound and slips out the door, the air feels easier to breathe again. But I know this isn’t over. Not even close.
My phone buzzes on the table. I snatch it up, still vibrating with rage.
Ethan: When are you going to be done with this temper tantrum and come home?
Disbelief and fresh fury surge through me. After the cheating, the video, the public humiliation, he’s still acting like I’m the problem. Like I’ll just crawl back because that’s what I always did.
My fingers shake as I type.
Me: Never. Lose my number.
I block him immediately, then delete the thread for good measure.
I set my phone down harder than necessary and stare at the blank screen for a long moment.
The tears threaten again, but I refuse to let them fall.
Not over Ethan. And definitely not over Rook and whatever the hell has crawled up his ass.
Mom slides a plate of pancakes in front of me and squeezes my shoulder. “One day at a time, baby.”
I manage a weak nod and finish breakfast on autopilot. After helping clean up I shower, throw on jeans and an old Iron Reapers tee, and try to shove both men out of my head.
It doesn’t work.
My phone starts blowing up with texts.
Tessa: Scarrrrr we miss you get your ass up
Erica: Girls day. No boys. River House 1pm.
Hadley: Yesss I’m in
Tessa: I’m already in the car. Be outside in 15 or I’m laying on the horn.
I laugh despite everything and type back.
Me: I’m up. I’ll be ready.
The second I slide into Tessa’s car with the music blasting, some of the weight lifts. When we reach the River House, Hadley and Erica are already waiting with mimosas.
The interrogation starts before I even take a sip.
“Spill,” Tessa demands. “We heard Rook lost his shit on you yesterday.”
I take a long drink and let the bubbles hit my tongue. “He basically called me a spoiled princess who ran home because my rich boyfriend dumped me. Said Dad should’ve kept me in the dark about the guy tailing us because I’m too fragile to handle it.”
Erica’s eyes go wide. “Rook? He barely speaks most days.”
Hadley leans in. “What about the tail? The guys were talking about it this morning. You okay?”
I tell them everything. The bike that never left us. The diner. How Dad didn’t say a word until we were safe.
“Jesus,” Tessa mutters.
Then Erica asks the question I’ve been dreading. “Heard anything from Ethan?”
I give a bitter laugh. “He texted this morning. Wanted to know when I’d be done with my ‘temper tantrum.’”
All three of them explode.
“No the fuck he didn’t,” Hadley says.
I nod. “I kid you not. I told the fucker to lose my number. Then I blocked him.”
“About damn time,” Tessa snorts. “I would’ve blocked his ass on day one.”
I shrug, tracing the rim of my glass. “I wanted to see what he’d do. Turns out… not much. I’m just glad it’s over. That whole life was getting old anyway.”
“What are you going to do now?” Erica asks.
“Job hunt. My degree’s in business management. I just need something to keep me busy.”
“Cole’s mom is looking for someone to handle the business side of her clinic,” Tessa says casually. “Might be worth checking out.”
I nod, turning the idea over. “Huh. I’ve never done healthcare, but thanks. I’ll look into it.”
The sun is dipping low by the time Tessa drops me off.
My cheeks hurt from laughing, and for the first time in days I feel a little lighter.
The mimosas helped. The girl talk helped even more.
For a few hours I almost forgot about Ethan, the tail, and the way Rook’s storm-gray eyes had pinned me in the kitchen this morning like he wanted to shake me and kiss me at the same time.
Almost.
I’m still smiling when I push open the front door, but the second I step inside the energy in the house shifts. Dad’s bike is in the driveway. So is Rook’s.
Shit.
Voices rumble from the kitchen, Dad and Rook talking low and serious. Club business. I try to slip past quietly, but Mom spots me immediately.
“There’s my girl. How was lunch?”
“Perfect,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice. “Just what I needed.”
I head for the stairs, hoping to make it to my room without, “Scarlett.”
Rook’s deep voice stops me cold. It’s not loud, but it carries that rough edge that always seems to slide under my skin.
I turn slowly. He’s leaning in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, leather cut stretching across his shoulders. His gaze drags over me, jeans, old Iron Reapers tee, hair still messy from the breeze on the ride back, and something dark flickers in his eyes.
Dad appears behind him, wiping his hands on a rag. “Good timing. We were just talking about you.”
“About me?” My stomach tightens.
Rook’s jaw flexes. “Southside Kings are pushing harder than we thought. That tail today wasn’t random. They’re testing us, testing your dad by coming after you.”
Dad nods, looking tired but steady. “I want you close for a while, baby. No riding off alone. If you need to go somewhere, one of the guys will take you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Rook cuts in first, voice low and rough.
“And before you bite my head off again, that includes not sneaking off to girls’ lunches without letting someone know where you are.”
The words are reasonable. The tone is not. There’s a possessive bite underneath that makes heat crawl up my neck.
“I was with Tessa, Erica, and Hadley,” I snap. “Hardly a high-risk mission. And I don’t need a babysitter, Rook. Especially not you.”
His eyes narrow. He pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer. The air between us crackles. “You think this is a game? These aren’t the spoiled prep-school boys you’re used to. These guys don’t play. They hurt people to send messages. And right now, you’re a real fucking nice message.”
Dad clears his throat. “Rook.”
But Rook doesn’t back down. His storm-gray stare stays locked on mine, intense and unyielding. For a second I swear I can feel the heat rolling off him. My pulse hammers in my throat, equal parts fury and something I refuse to name.
“I handled myself just fine for eight years without you watching my every move,” I say, lifting my chin.
“Yeah?” His voice drops, rougher now. “And how’d that work out for you, princess? Running home with your tail between your legs after that piece of shit humiliated you?”
The words hit like a slap. Hurt flashes hot behind my eyes, but I shove it down and step right into his space, close enough to smell leather, motor oil, and the faint hint of his soap.
“Fuck you, Rook.”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. His gaze drops to my mouth, then back up. The tension stretches so tight it feels like it might snap.
Dad sighs. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you.”
Mom appears like magic, sliding between us with two plates. “Dinner’s ready. You can snarl at each other over food like civilized people.”
Rook is the first to move. He turns sharply and heads for the table, but not before I catch the way his hands flex at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to grab me.
I sit across from him, legs brushing under the table once by accident. We both jerk back like we’ve been burned.
The meal is quiet at first, thick with everything unsaid. But every time I look up, Rook’s eyes are on me, watching, simmering, daring me to push him again.
And the worst part?
Some reckless, stupid part of me wants to.