Chapter 2 - Holly #2
"Stop," he says suddenly, holding up a hand. We freeze, pressed against a brick wall. He tilts his head, listening, then relaxes slightly. "Just a cat."
As if summoned by his words, a scraggly tabby slinks out from behind a dumpster, eyeing us warily before disappearing into the shadows.
"We're about two blocks from the store now," Steel continues. "But this is the tricky part. We'll be exposed crossing Main Street."
I nod, steeling myself for another dash into danger.
"Holly," he starts, turning to face me fully. In the dim light from a distant streetlamp, his features are soft yet serious. "When we get to the store, things will move fast. My brothers will have questions. King will want to take you somewhere safe."
"The clubhouse," I guess.
"Yes. It's the safest place for you and James right now." His eyes search mine. "But I need to know if you understand what that means. Being under club protection... it changes things. People will associate you with us."
The implications settle over me slowly. In a small town like Blackwater Falls, being connected to the Savage Riders will affect everything: how people see me, treat me, what opportunities I might have or lose.
"Do we have a choice?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Everyone always has a choice," he says, surprising me. "But not all choices are good ones. Right now, your options are limited."
I appreciate his honesty, even if it's not comforting. "The Iron Eagles know where we live. Where I work. They saw me with you."
He nods, his expression grim. "They'll assume you're important to me. To the club. It makes you a target."
"Important to you?" The words slip out before I can stop them.
"You're under my protection now," he says, his voice low. "That makes you my responsibility."
It's not really an answer to my question, but there's an intensity in his words that makes it feel like one anyway. I nod, accepting this new reality, at least for now.
"I understand," I tell him. "Let's go."
He stares at me for a moment longer, as if making sure I truly comprehend what I'm agreeing to. Then he turns, checks the street once more, and says, "Stay close to me. Don't stop for anything."
We move from the alley onto the main street, walking quickly but not running, trying not to draw attention. The corner store is visible now, its fluorescent lights a beacon in the darkness. I can see motorcycles parked outside, their riders standing guard.
We're halfway across the street when the roar of engines sounds in the distance.
"Run!" Steel commands, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward.
We sprint the final distance to the store, my lungs burning, legs pumping. The Savage Riders outside spot us and move to provide cover, guns appearing in their hands as if by magic. Steel pushes me ahead of him, shielding my body with his own as we cross the final few yards.
We burst through the door of the corner store, and I immediately search for James. He's there, huddled near the counter, looking pale but unharmed. Our eyes meet, and relief washes over his face.
"Holly," he breathes, rushing forward to embrace me. "Thank God."
I cling to my brother, the reality of how close we came to losing each other finally hitting me. Over his shoulder, I see Steel conferring with the other riders, his expression intense.
"What happened?" James asks, pulling back to examine me. "I thought you were right behind me."
"Steel pulled me into an alley when the shooting started," I explain. "We hid until they passed, then took back streets to get here."
James's eyes narrow as he looks at Steel. "How convenient that he saved you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, taken aback by his tone.
"Nothing," he mutters. "Just find it interesting that the reason we're in danger is also playing the hero."
Before I can respond, King, the club president I've seen collecting from James before, approaches us. His cold blue eyes assess me briefly before turning to Steel.
"Eagles?" he asks simply.
Steel nods. "Two of them. They knew exactly where I'd be. Targeted hit."
King's expression darkens. "We need to get all of you to the clubhouse. Now."
"The clubhouse?" James's voice rises in panic. "No way. We're not going there."
"You don't have a choice," King says flatly. "Your apartment's shot to hell, and the Eagles will be looking for you both now."
"I didn't sign up for this!" James shouts, his face flushed with fear and alcohol. "This is between you and them!"
"Lower your voice," Steel warns, stepping between my brother and King. "And you signed up the moment you borrowed our money."
I place a hand on James's arm, feeling him trembling beneath my touch. "James, please. They're trying to help us now."
He shakes me off. "Help us? They're the reason we almost died!"
"Your sister's smarter than you," one of the other riders says, a heavily tattooed man with a wild beard. "Now get on my bike before I knock you out and tie you to it."
James looks like he might argue further, but something in the rider's expression makes him think better of it. He sullenly approaches the motorcycles outside, giving the riders a wide berth.
"Holly rides with me," Steel says, guiding me toward an extra bike that someone brought along. King gives him a look I can't interpret but nods once.
I've never been on a motorcycle before. Under different circumstances, I might be terrified, but after being shot at, this fear seems manageable. Steel shows me where to place my feet, how to hold on.
"Arms around my waist, tight," he instructs. "Lean when I lean. Don't fight the bike."
I wrap my arms around him, feeling the wall of muscles in his abdomen beneath my fingers. He kicks the bike to life, and the vibration travels up through my body. Despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the sheer insanity of this night—I'm wet. Fucking dripping.
My mind flashes back to that moment on the fire escape, our bodies pressed together, his breath against my skin. I tighten my grip around his waist, and I swear I feel him tense in response.
As we pull away from the corner store, the wind whipping through my hair, I close my eyes and rest my cheek against Steel's back.
In this moment, I'm not thinking about the bullets or the danger or what tomorrow will bring.
I'm only aware of his warmth, the machine between my legs, and the strange sense that my life has just veered onto a path I never could have imagined.
For better or worse, I'm under Steel's protection now. And God help me, but some small, reckless part of me doesn't want that protection to end.