Page 23 of Rampage

I nod, not committing either way. The day's events have left me emotionally drained, and the thought of facing a room full of bikers, even ones who want to help, is overwhelming.

"I think I need to rest," I say quietly. "Can we go back to my place?"

Reid helps me up, his arm steady around my waist. "Of course."

Upstairs in my small apartment, I sink onto the end of my bed, suddenly exhausted. Reid stands awkwardly by the door, clearly unsure if he should stay.

"Will you sit with me?" I ask, my voice small. "Just for a little while?"

He joins me on the bed, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "You should try to get some sleep. It's been a hell of a day."

I nod but make no move to lie down. "I keep thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't been there. If that officer had taken me in…"

"Don't," Reid says firmly. "It didn't happen. You're safe."

"But for how long?" I look up at him, the fear I've been suppressing bubbling to the surface. "Frank won't stop. He'll keep coming after me.

"I just don't understand why he won't let me go," I whisper, pulling my knees to my chest. "It's been a year. I was just his foster kid, one of dozens he's had. Why is he so obsessed with finding me?"

Reid's expression darkens. "Men like that… they don't like losing control. You were probably the first one who ever escaped him."

I shake my head, fingers twisting anxiously in my lap. "But to file false charges? To track me across the state? It's… it's like he's hunting me."

"Have you ever considered there might be another reason?" Reid asks carefully. "Something specific he's afraid you might do or say?"

The question hangs in the air between us. I've never allowed myself to fully examine why Frank might be so determined to find me. I'd always assumed it was punishment for defying him, for daring to leave.

"I know things," I admit slowly. "Things that could ruin him if they got out. He and Marlene fostered eight girls before me. All of them left as soon as they turned eighteen. None of them ever spoke up about what happened in that house."

Reid's expression hardens at my confession. "What kind of things, Lily?"

I stare at my hands, unable to meet his eyes. "He… he had a system. The girls who cooperated with him got privileges. The ones who didn't…" I swallow hard. "He kept records. Photos. Videos sometimes. Said it was his 'insurance' in case anyone ever tried to report him."

"Jesus Christ," Reid mutters, his hands clenching into fists.

"I found them once, hidden in his desk. He caught me looking." My voice drops to a whisper. "That was the worst beating I ever got."

Reid makes a sound low in his throat, something between a growl and a curse. "So he's not just trying to punish you. He's afraid you'll expose him."

"I didn't take anything when I left," I say, frustration building. "I didn't have time. I just ran."

"But he doesn't know that," Reid points out. "He's probably terrified you have evidence, or that you'll talk to the other girls."

The realization hits me like a physical blow. "He's not going to stop, is he? Not until he's sure I'm not a threat."

Reid shifts closer, taking my trembling hands in his. "Listen to me, Lily. This changes things. We're not just dealing with an abuser who's angry you escaped. We're dealing with a predator who's afraid of exposure."

"What do I do?" My voice cracks.

"You come to the club meeting tonight," he says firmly. "You accept our protection. And then we fight back."

"How?"

"We find the other girls," Reid says, a dangerous glint in his eye. "We build a case against him. Real evidence, not just your word against his."

I feel sick at the thought of confronting my past so directly. "What if the other girls don't want to talk? What if they're too afraid?"

"Then we find another way," Reid says, unwavering. "The point is, you don't have to face this alone anymore."