Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
ROOK
It’s been four days since everything blew up at church.
Four days of sleeping on the Blackstones’ couch with a gun within reach and one eye half-open. Four days of walking on eggshells in a house that used to feel like a second home. Four days of Piston looking at me like I’m a stranger who wandered in off the street.
I don’t blame him. I knew what I was doing when I stood up in Church and claimed his daughter. I just didn’t expect it to feel this heavy once the dust settled.
The couch is uncomfortable as hell, and my back is killing me, but I haven’t said a word about it. I won’t. Sleeping under this roof is a privilege Piston is barely tolerating right now. Complaining about the couch would be a fast way to get kicked out, and I’m not risking that.
Not when Scarlett needs me here.
I’m standing in the kitchen, pouring my second cup of coffee when I hear Piston coming down the stairs. His boots hit every step like he’s trying to remind the house who it belongs to. I don’t turn around. I just keep my back to him and take a slow sip from my mug.
He walks in without a word and heads straight for the coffee pot. The tension in the room thickens the second he steps inside. It’s been like this every morning, thick silence, short sentences, and a whole lot of things we’re both refusing to say.
“Anything new overnight?” he asks, voice rough from either lack of sleep or too many cigarettes.
“Nothing,” I answer, keeping my tone even. “Riot checked the cameras around three. No movement near the house or the clinic. Cross hasn’t shown his face.”
Piston nods once, but his jaw stays locked tight. He pours himself a cup of coffee and leans back against the counter across from me. For a second, he just stares into his mug like it’s got answers he doesn’t want to hear.
Then his eyes lift to mine.
“Scarlett’s got work today,” he says. “You’re on her.”
“I know.”
He studies me for a long moment, eyes hard and unreadable. “She doesn’t go anywhere alone. Not to the bathroom, not to grab lunch, not even outside for fresh air. I don’t give a fuck how awkward it makes shit for you two. You stay on her.”
“I will.”
Piston’s mouth tightens like he wants to say more, like he wants to remind me that I’m only here because he’s allowing it. But he doesn’t. He just takes another slow drink of his coffee and looks away.
The silence that follows is heavy.
Four days ago, this man told me I was dead to him. Now he’s trusting me with the most important thing in his life. The irony isn’t lost on either of us.
I hear soft footsteps on the stairs and turn just as Scarlett walks into the kitchen. She’s dressed for work in jeans and a fitted black top, her hair still damp from the shower. When her eyes find mine, some of the tightness in my chest eases.
“Morning,” she says quietly, walking straight over to me.
“Morning, baby.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, keeping it brief. I can feel Piston’s eyes on us from across the kitchen, but I don’t pull away. I’m not going to hide how I feel about her, not in front of him, not in front of anyone.
Scarlett leans into me for a second before glancing over at her dad. “Morning, Dad.”
Piston gives her a short nod. “Rook’s taking you to work. He’ll stay with you until noon. Someone else will relieve him after that.”
Scarlett’s mouth presses into a thin line, but she doesn’t argue. She knows better than to fight him on security right now. Instead, she just nods and turns back to me.
“You look tired,” she says softly, reaching up to brush her thumb under my eye.
“I’m fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push it. Not here. Not with her dad standing ten feet away watching us like a hawk.
Jenny walks into the kitchen a moment later, already dressed and looking like she hasn’t slept much either. She gives me a small, tired smile before pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“You two be careful today,” she says, her voice calm but serious. “And text me when you get to the clinic.”
“We will,” Scarlett promises.
Piston sets his mug down on the counter with a dull thud. “Time to go.”
The words are directed at both of us, but his eyes are on me.
I give him a short nod. “I’ve got her.”
He doesn’t respond. He just stares at me for another second before turning and walking out of the kitchen without another word.
Scarlett watches him go, her expression tightening. Once he’s gone, she looks back at me and lowers her voice.
“He’s still so angry.”
“I know.”
“I hate that you’re sleeping on the couch,” she whispers. “I hate that he’s treating you like this.”
I reach up and tuck a piece of damp hair behind her ear. “It’s fine, Scarlett. I can handle it.”
She searches my face for a long moment, then nods, even though I can tell she doesn’t fully believe me. She steps closer and rests her forehead against my chest for a second, just breathing.
“I love you,” she murmurs.
My arms come around her without thinking. “I love you too.”
From the living room, Piston’s voice cuts through the quiet again.
“Scarlett. Let’s go.”
She sighs and pulls back, grabbing her bag off the counter. I follow her toward the front door, where Piston is already waiting with his keys in hand. He looks between the two of us, his expression unreadable.
“You take her straight there,” he says to me. “No stops. No detours. I’ll have eyes on the route.”
“Understood.”
Piston’s gaze flicks to his daughter for a second. Something softens in his eyes for the briefest moment before it hardens again. He looks back at me.
“Keep her safe.”
It’s not a request. It’s a warning.
I meet his stare without flinching.
“I will.”
He doesn’t say anything else. He just steps aside and lets us pass.
As we walk out to my bike, Scarlett slips her hand into mine and squeezes. I squeeze back, grounding myself in the small contact.
I take the long way to the clinic, keeping my eyes moving the entire ride. Scarlett’s arms are wrapped tight around my waist, her body pressed against my back. Normally I’d be thinking about how good she feels against me. Today, I’m just focused on getting her there in one piece.
When we pull up outside Sophie’s clinic, I do a slow sweep of the street before killing the engine. Everything looks normal. Too normal. That’s what makes my skin itch.
Scarlett climbs off the bike and takes off her helmet, shaking out her hair. She glances around like she’s trying to see whatever I’m seeing, but she doesn’t ask questions. She’s gotten used to this routine over the last few days.
I walk her to the door, my hand resting lightly on her lower back.
Sophie is already inside, unlocking cabinets and getting ready for the day. When she sees me following Scarlett in, she doesn’t even blink.
“Morning, Rook,” she says casually.
“Morning, Sophie.”
She gives me a knowing look. “You staying out front again today?”
“Yeah.”
She nods once. “Good. Do what you need to do. Just don’t scare my patients.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Sophie’s been around long enough to understand how this life works. She doesn’t ask questions or make a fuss. She just accepts it and moves on.
Scarlett turns to me before heading to the back. She rises up on her toes and presses a quick kiss to my jaw.
“Be careful out there,” she says quietly.
“Always.”
I watch her disappear down the hallway, then head back outside. I park myself on my bike across the street, angled so I have a clear view of the front entrance and the side alley.
The morning moves slow. I keep my head on a swivel, watching cars, pedestrians, anyone who lingers too long near the clinic.
By the time noon rolls around, my shoulders are tight from sitting in one position for so long. I’m rolling my neck when I see two bikes pull up.
Cole and Steele.
They park a few spots down and walk over. Cole jerks his chin at me in greeting.
“We got her from here,” he says. “Pres wants you back at the clubhouse for a meeting.”
I nod and stand up, stretching out my legs. “Anything new?”
Steele shakes his head. “Nothing solid. Riot’s still digging. Pres just wants everyone in the same room to go over what we’ve got so far.”
“Alright.” I glance back at the clinic. “She’s inside. Sophie knows the deal.”
Cole gives me a look that’s half understanding, half warning. “Go handle your shit. We’ll keep eyes on her.”
I clap him on the shoulder once before heading inside.
The bell above the door chimes as I walk in. Sophie glances up from the front desk and gives me a small nod, already knowing why I’m here. I head down the short hallway toward the back room where Scarlett usually works.
She’s organizing supplies when I step inside. The second she sees me, her face lights up.
“Hey,” she says, smiling as she walks over. “You heading out?”
“Yeah. Cole and Steele are outside now. I’ve got a meeting at the clubhouse.”
Scarlett nods, but I can see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She steps closer and slides her arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my chest for a second.
“I hate that we’re still at my parents’ house,” she says quietly. “I’m ready for all of this to be over. I miss having you to myself.”
I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on top of her head. “I know, baby. Me too.”
She tilts her head back to look up at me. Her voice drops even lower.
“I miss you touching me.”
The words hit me low in the gut. I tighten my hold on her, my thumb brushing along her spine.
“Soon,” I promise. “Once this shit with Cross is handled, we’ll figure out our own space.”
Scarlett nods against my chest, but I can feel the frustration rolling off her. She’s not used to being cooped up like this, and neither am I.
I lean down and kiss her, slow and deep, letting it linger longer than I probably should. When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers.
“I love you,” I murmur.
“I love you too.” She gives me a small smile. “Go to your meeting. I’ll see you later.”
I kiss her once more, then force myself to step back.
“Text me if anything feels off. I mean it.”
“I will.”