Chapter 58
AVA - HOLD TIGHT
I packed her bag myself.
Just a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, her notebook, and a book from her nightstand that she never had the time to read.
Little pieces of normalcy she might cling to, though they felt almost laughable now, like offering a bandage to someone standing in front of a firing squad.
I laid a hoodie on top, hers, worn soft at the cuffs, and zipped it up before I could start crying again. My throat burned anyway.
Back at the precinct, the sky was turning gray. The kind of morning that made you feel like the sun had forgotten to rise, like even the light wanted no part of what was coming.
Jack stood near the SUV, arms crossed tight, jaw clenched. He was pissed, pacing in clipped little circles, snapping his gum like it owed him money. He wanted Remi close, where he could see her, not shipped off to a Clubhouse with a man she didn’t know and a crew he didn’t trust.
Harlan stood beside him, stiff with tension, that controlled kind of stillness that meant he was calculating fifty moves ahead.
Gray was at the top of the stairs, leaning back against the building like he was casual, but his eyes never stopped moving, scanning the street like the wind itself might bring trouble.
When Remi stepped out of the building, the quiet was almost unnatural. Jack had warned them: no press, no gawkers, no circus.
If anyone was watching, this was just another morning. Just another woman walking out of a precinct. But beneath the surface, this was anything but.
Remi had cleaned up, but I could see the edges beneath her jeans, fitted tee, and boots. Her hair was braided loose, a few waves already breaking free and curling around her face. She looked steady. Strong.
But if you knew her, if you looked closely, you’d see it.
The tremor under the steel.
The way her eyes kept shifting, scanning shadows, measuring exits.
The way every sound made her flinch just a little too fast.
She walked straight to me and stopped short, like she wasn’t sure she trusted herself if she came any closer.
“I don’t like this,” she said, voice low but steady. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know,” I whispered. My throat was tight, my voice threatening to break, so I swallowed it back. “But I’m not the one they’re after.”
Her gaze slid past me, locking on Harlan, her expression unreadable but sharp.
“I’ll keep her close,” he said, like he’d already guessed her thoughts. “That’s a promise.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t nod. Didn’t blink. Her stare was unrelenting, a quiet storm that said precisely what she thought of his promises without a single word.
Harlan’s shoulders eased a fraction, his jaw ticking once. “Gray will be on her detail,” he added, softer this time. “Armed. Always within reach.”
Remi’s eyes shifted to Gray. He gave her a single, deliberate nod, steady, solid, no bullshit.
Something in her posture loosened. Not trust. Not yet. But enough. Enough to let her keep breathing.
And then… the rumble of engines.
Three bikes pulled into view, engines snarling, unapologetic. The Dawnbreakers didn’t do subtle. They announced themselves in leather and steel, the air around them vibrating with road grit and old ghosts.
The first man off his bike was tall, broad, mid-forties, with rough hands and a cut worn thin from years on the road. He was equally attractive and terrifying. His road name was stitched in faded thread: Clutch.
He strode up the steps like he belonged there, eyes locking on Remi with a familiarity that shouldn’t have been possible. Then he grinned, wide and lazy, like they were already co-conspirators.
“There she is,” he drawled. “You gonna stay outta trouble now, baby cakes? Be a good girl for your man?”
Remi blinked at him.
I almost laughed. The look on her face was priceless, like he’d just suggested she take up knitting. Jack looked murderous.
Then I saw it: the tilt of his brow, the way his shoulders slouched just enough to sell the part.
He was playing a role.
Selling it.
Selling her... them.
Remi caught on fast. She stepped down the stairs, body taut but moving, letting herself be pulled into the orbit he created.
Clutch reached for her waist, his movements smooth, practiced.
He tugged her into a hug that looked intimate enough to make anyone watching believe it, his face tucked beside hers.
I saw his lips move but couldn’t catch the words.
Whatever he said, it made something in her shoulders shift, her body angling into his without fight.
And then, for anyone watching, he claimed her.
He pulled back just enough to make it look like they were kissing, then cupped her cheek like he owned the world and said, loud enough for the street to hear:
“Ready to get on the back of my bike, baby?”
Remi stared at him, deadpan. “I thought that was supposed to mean something.”
Clutch’s grin curved, slow and crooked. “If my ol’ lady was still around, she wouldn’t mind… not for you.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
I felt it in my chest.
So did Remi.
She went still, locked up in a way I’d seen before, caught between retreat and retaliation. Something passed between them, something I couldn’t name, deep and quiet and raw.
Clutch leaned in again, softer now, the act stripped away.
“I screwed up, darling,” he said, low, meant only for her. “Bad. I did her wrong. Broke us. Broke her. You were the one who put her back together. She left and I was pissed for a minute, but then I got my head outta my ass and realized… You did something I never did. You put her first.”
Remi’s eyes shimmered, the faintest crack in her steel.
“I’m still holding onto hope she’ll come back,” he added, voice rough with something I couldn’t place. “Claim her spot with me. But until then, she’d be good with this. With you.”
He gave her a sad, crooked smile. “So… what do you say, Remi? Shall we put on a show?”
Before she could answer, he smacked her ass with enough flair to make her jolt, then spun away, mounting his bike like the conversation had never happened.
Remi didn’t protest.
He handed her a helmet, steady and deliberate, before moving to help her adjust the strap, as if he'd done it a thousand times. His thumb brushed softly across the bruise on her jaw, and he said, "I will keep you safe."
Then he leaned in even closer, “Trust me,” he murmured. “Hold tight. Move with my body.”
Remi nodded, hands trembling as she climbed on behind him.
I stood frozen on the steps, heart hammering so hard it hurt. I wasn’t ready for this. For her to ride away with strangers. For this next chapter to start.
But then she looked back, just once, and gave me the smallest nod. She was scared. But she was going.
And I had to let her.
The engines roared to life, splitting the quiet, vibrating through my ribs. I watched them disappear down the street, my sister on the back of a stranger’s bike.
For the first time in days, I didn’t feel like we were losing her.
We were buying her a chance.
A heartbeat of space.
A breath before the storm we both knew was coming.