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Stephan nodded, a deep frown creasing his brow. “So, she didn’t try very hard.”

“They’re both at the clubhouse. Figured you’d want to talk to her before we get the police involved.”

Stephan nodded. “Good call. Let’s head over there now.”

“Hawk, can you stay and hang out with Dylan?” I asked.

Hawk and Stephan turned to face me, their matching hazel eyes bright with confusion. “What?”

“I want to go,” I said.

Stephan tilted his head to the side. “Harley, that’s not?—”

“I get that you want to protect us, but I’m not a damsel in distress, okay? I want Blakely to know she doesn’t scare me.”

Hawk and Stephan shared a look. They must’ve been communicating telepathically or something. Dylan bumped his shoulder against me. “Is there someone out there we should be scared of?”

“No, honey.” I ruffled his hair. “Just a silly bully. You know your mom’s good at handling those.”

The tension in Dylan’s posture eased, then he puffed out his chest a little. “Okay. Call me if you need me to help.”

I chuckled. “Of course.”

When I looked up, Stephan was watching us with a small smile. Hawk marched into the kitchen. “Dylan, it’s coffee time. And then perhaps we’ll go outside and play a little catch? Perhaps with your claws out?”

“It’s so hard with my claws out,” Dylan whined.

“But it’s great practice.”

“Thanks, Hawk,” I said. I took the towel off my head and hung it to dry in the downstairs bathroom, then quickly pulled my hair up into a bun. It was mostly dry. Good enough. Lakeview didn’t demand the same beauty rituals that life in Atlanta did.

Stephan held the front door open for me. “You’re sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ve had enough of her.”

His gaze hardened slightly. “As have I.”

We climbed into his Cadillac and drove the short distance to the clubhouse. My heart pounded with anxiety as we approached, and I took a few deep, steadying breaths. Stephan’shand dropped to my knee and squeezed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” I said again. “It’s just a little intense.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I get that. But after this, we’ll never have to deal with her again.”

“Promise?” I asked with a teasing half-smile.

“Promise.”

We walked inside. Yesterday, it had been bustling and joyous with everyone meeting Dylan. Now, the mood was a lot more severe. Only Striker and two other enforcers were present—Tank, and one I didn’t recognize.

Blakely sat on a bar stool between them. She looked like she hadn’t slept all night. Her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her red hair was a greasy mess. There was still a slightly crazed look in her eye, though, like she was a cornered animal.

“So, it’s true,” Stephan said. He crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. “Explain yourself, Blakely.”

“What’s there to explain?” she snapped. “I lost control of my truck.”

“You could’ve killed my mate,” Stephan snarled. His eyes flashed gold and I thought I saw his teeth briefly sharpen into fangs. Stephan wouldn’t really hurt her—he wasn’t violent like that—but for a moment I wondered.

“Mate,” Blakely scoffed. “That’s what you call whatever girl is currently in your bed.”