Page 35 of Rampage

"Does this change anything?" he asks, a rare uncertainty in his voice.

I shake my head. "Only adds more layers to who you are."

Relief crosses his features. "We should head to the clubhouse soon. Tiffany's very punctual."

As we prepare to leave, Reid hands me a helmet and leather jacket—not his own, but one that looks new, sized for a woman.

"Club got it for you," he explains at my questioning look. "Safety first."

The jacket fits perfectly, the leather still stiff with newness. It feels like armor as I zip it up, like I'm putting on a piece of the protection the club has promised me.

A knot forms in my stomach as Reid's motorcycle rumbles into the clubhouse parking lot. Despite having been here just last night, daylight transforms the building into something more intimidating. Several motorcycles are already parked outside, their chrome gleaming in the morning sun.

"You okay?" Reid asks as he kills the engine, his hand finding mine.

I nod, not trusting my voice. The weight of what we're about to do, challenge a man with connections, resources, and a vendetta against me, feels overwhelming.

Reid helps me off the bike, his hand steady at the small of my back as we approach the entrance. "Tiffany's good at what she does," he assures me. "The best lawyer the club's ever had."

"And she's Lane's daughter?" I ask, trying to remember the complex web of club relationships.

"Yeah, she was raised in this life, but went her own way with law school. Still bleeds Sinner loyalty, though."

Inside, the clubhouse has a different energy than last night. Less ceremonial, more functional. Several members look up as we enter, nodding respectfully. I recognize Mason, who raises his coffee cup in greeting.

"There she is," comes a voice from my left, and I turn to see Alex leaning against the bar, his expression less severe than last night. He raises his own coffee mug in a mirrored gesture to Mason's. "Sleep well?"

The casual question carries an undercurrent that makes heat rush to my cheeks. Reid tenses slightly beside me.

"Leave it, Alex," he warns, but there's no real heat behind it.

"What?" Alex's face is the picture of innocence, though his eyes dance with mischief. "I'm just being polite."

Jacob materializes from the hallway leading to the back rooms, quieter than his twin, as always. He carries a stack of manila folders, his expression more serious than his brother's.

"Tiffany's setting up in the meeting room," he informs us, nodding a greeting to me. "She's got the warrant information already. Looks like Frank's been busy; the charges were filed less than a week ago."

"A week?" Reid's hand tightens on my waist. "That's no coincidence."

"What do you mean?" I ask, looking between the brothers.

Jacob sets the folders on a nearby table. "When exactly did you tell Reid about the wedding?"

I think back. "Just a few days ago. Maybe three days?"

The twins exchange a look that speaks volumes. Alex pushes off from the bar, his posture shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.

"He found out you’re going back," Alex says, his voice hardening. "Somehow, he knows you're planning to return to town."

My blood runs cold. "That's impossible. I've only told Reid and Deb."

"And Jeremy," Reid adds, his expression darkening. "Your friend from back home."

The implication hits me like a physical blow. "No. Jeremy wouldn't—he couldn't?—"

"Not intentionally," Jacob interjects, his voice lower than his twin's. "But information leaks. Maybe he mentioned it to someone who mentioned it to someone else."

"Small towns," Alex agrees grimly. "Everyone knows everyone's business."