Chapter Six
Dylan
She hadn’t said much on the ride back. Her voice had barely worked, her entire body humming from fear and adrenaline.
The silence in the dimly lit motel room felt louder than anything that had happened tonight.
It made the thoughts racing through her mind feel like a scream.
Her hands curled around a glass of water she hadn’t yet taken a sip from as she fought for control.
Dylan sat on the edge of the bed in Jason’s motel room, glaring at the jacket her uncle had made her wear tonight.
Throwing it on the floor had been the first thing she’d done when Jason brought her here, watching it like a snake that could bite her.
It had been a uniform, and a lie. Her uncle hadn’t handed her a shift.
He’d handed her off like a… She didn’t even want to think the word right now.
She was too close to spiraling as it was.
And she’d gone along with it, suspecting the entire time that something wasn’t right.
She’d told herself it was just a job, just one more night.
Now she couldn’t decide if she felt more sick or stupid.
Jason sat in the worn chair between the door and the bed, like he was guarding her.
He looked ready to protect her from everything outside, just like he had at the lake house earlier tonight.
She could still hear the crack of Jason’s fist breaking that man’s jaw.
She could still picture the look in his eyes, the cold precision of someone who’d been in too many fights that were less about winning, more about surviving.
Dylan’s trust was frayed down to threads.
Eli had handed her off like she was nothing, a favor to some twisted client.
Tonight, she’d seen clearly what her uncle truly was.
And now here she was, tucked away in a cheap motel room with the only man who’d fought to protect her.
Jason had held her when she was shaking and looked at her like she was still a worthwhile person even after everything.
But Jason had tried to warn her, hadn’t he? And somehow, he’d found her tonight. How had he found her? She had no phone to contact anyone. Eli had taken it. He’d told her about her “special shift” about three minutes before a car came to whisk her away.
And now, Dylan wasn’t sure if she was searching for the truth or clinging to the man close to her now because he was the last thing that felt real. Maybe it was both. But she needed answers. Because whatever came next, she couldn’t let herself be blinded again.
Jason simply sat there quietly, gorgeous and muscular.
She loved every moment she’d spent with him.
But there were unanswered questions even with her savior.
He was a medical courier working temporarily in Oak Grove, of all the damn places.
Why only temporarily? He’d never said. Every time she’d offered to go back to his for the night, he’d had an excuse ready as to why it wasn’t a good time.
And the way he always preferred to make love in the dark puzzled her, especially as gorgeous as he was.
What had caused that distinctive scar around his neck that she hadn’t found the courage to ask him about?
Dylan shivered just thinking about how he’d burst into the lake house tonight like a Goddamn mercenary.
One second, the creepy man her uncle had given her to had been looming over her, barking threats like he owned her.
The next, Jason had hit him like a wrecking ball.
All she’d seen then was violence delivered with the calm of a man who’d obviously done it before.
It should’ve scared her. Maybe it did, a little.
But what cut deeper was how focused he’d been on getting to her.
Like nothing else mattered, not inflicting pain or vengeance.
And at that moment, she hadn’t been afraid of him.
She’d never felt safer in her life. She still felt that way.
But she also knew Jason wasn’t telling her everything.
She finally broke the silence. “Who are you?”
He didn’t move. “Jason.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t look away. “You knew. You knew something like this could happen. That night when I told you about that rich fucker Eli brought to the bar, you tried to warn me.”
Jason’s dark-eyed gaze met hers. “It didn’t take much insight, Dylan,” he said carefully. “You were uncomfortable that night. You should always listen to your gut.”
“But I didn’t listen to my gut,” she said, as tears of frustration stung her eyes. “And my uncle, my fucking uncle just… pimped me out tonight.”
Jason’s gaze didn’t waver. Slowly, he rose from the chair and stepped closer to her.
“No,” he said. “He tried. But you didn’t let it happen.” He sat next to her on the bed, carefully, like not wanting to scare away a frightened animal. “You fought him and bought yourself some time. And if I hadn’t shown up tonight, I know you’d have found your own way out.”
Dylan listened, still shaking and not caring if he saw it.
“And what your uncle did?” Jason continued, quieter now. “That’s not on you. That’s on him. The only thing you’re guilty of is trusting someone who should’ve protected you.” He paused, took a deep breath. “But you’re not alone in this anymore, Dylan.”
Her fingers tightened around the glass she still held. “So, what now?” Her voice cracked. “What am I supposed to do? Just… go back and act like this never happened? Apologize to my uncle? What do I do when that man shows up again at Ned’s, because he will.”
“You don’t go back,” he said. “Not to your uncle or Ned’s. Not after this.”
Her chest tightened at the forceful way he spoke. “But Eli’s my family. He’s the only family I really have left… I mean, maybe he didn’t know what that guy’s real intentions were.”
Jason’s gaze met hers, steady and calm. There was steel beneath it. “He did fucking know, Dylan. That man handed you over like you were inventory. Family doesn’t do that.”
Dylan didn’t argue, but she blinked back tears. “I just moved back to Oak Grove. Now I have to leave again? And if I leave, won’t he come looking for me?”
Jason nodded. “He will. That fucking guy he had you delivered to won’t do business with him again until he fixes the situation with you. And if he can’t fix it, well, they can’t have you out there talking about any of it.”
Shaking her head, she snorted, though it really wasn’t funny. “Eli took my phone. Said I’d get it back later.”
Jason didn’t say anything, but she saw a shift in his expression.
“Now what happens?” she asked. “What’s he going to do when I don’t show up for my phone -- or my job?”
“He’s got his club out looking for you,” Jason explained. “Right now.”
That froze her to the spot.
Jason’s gaze pinned her in place. “Eli Crizer doesn’t let things go. And he values his reputation more than most in our world.”
“You talk like you know him,” Dylan said. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought that.
“I know the type,” he said, staring at the floor.
No, it’s more than that.
“That’s not an answer.” She stared at him, instinct driving her on. “Jason… how do you know what Eli’s capable of?”
His gaze returned to her, and he didn’t blink. “Because I used to wear the same patch.”
Dylan just stared at him, her heart thudding, with every muscle in her body going still. Of all the things she expected to hear, she wasn’t ready for that. “What did you just say?”
Jason didn’t move, didn’t try to soften it. “I used to be one of them, Dylan. A Cottonmouth. I came from the Abingdon chapter.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head like she could rewind the last ten seconds. “No, you can’t be. That doesn’t make any sense…”
“It makes perfect sense,” he said slowly. “Doesn’t it?”
She looked at him, really looked at him. Jason had never conducted himself like a man trying to prove something. He didn’t try any false bravado while he was meeting her stare head-on. He just looked so tired, like each word cost him more than he’d expected.
Dylan’s gaze immediately went to the scar at his neck, and he knew it.
His fingers lifted, tracing it like it still burned after all this time.
It was a deep wound that had healed physically.
Emotionally? Maybe not. Jason lived with it every day, saw it in the mirror each morning.
It made her realize something. For all Jason’s strength, all his control, he was trying to figure out what to say to her, and it wasn’t easy for him.
“I didn’t know what was really going on when I came to Oak Grove last year,” he said quietly. “The Oak Grove chapter said they needed help with expansion. New chapters, bigger ops. I believed them, and a couple of others from Abingdon came over with me.”
Rising from the bed, he stood before her, grabbing the hem of his hoodie and pulling it off. After he dropped that to the floor, he pulled off the dim white T-shirt he wore beneath and turned his back to her.
There, tattooed across his back, bold and brutal, was the mark of the Cottonmouth MC.
A coiled cottonmouth, its body thick and twisted in strike position, fangs bared, tongue extended like it was hissing at the world.
The detail was vicious and every scale, every shadow was inked with a precision that felt more like a warning than a design.
It stretched between his shoulders like a brand, set deep into skin marred by scars, some fresh, others older.
Some had healed wrong. It wasn’t art. It was history carved in ink and blood.