Page 18 of Bad Luck, Hard Love (Heaven’s Rejects MC #6)

CHARLOTTE

Guilt is a fucking cancer that eats you alive before you even know you're dying.

I blink awake to sunlight streaming through thin curtains, momentarily disoriented until the pressure of Minny's head on my shoulder brings reality crashing back.

She's curled against me like a child, her mascara smudged beneath closed eyelids, her breathing soft and steady.

For one precious moment, she looks peaceful.

Unlike me.

My thoughts are a warzone. Every time I close my eyes, I see Terrance’s face twisted with rage, hear the crash of bottles breaking, feel the phantom grip of hands around my throat.

But worse than my own fear is knowing I've dragged others into this nightmare.

How naive I was to think the divorce would be the end of it.

I ease out from under Minny's arm, careful not to wake her, but her eyes snap open immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I force a smile that feels brittle. “Just restless.”

She pushes herself upright, running fingers through her tangled hair. “Where's your biker boy toy?”

“Standing guard outside.” I gesture toward the door, “Been there all night.”

Minny nods, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. She pulls her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. “Are you sure leaving is a good idea? I mean, I could stay here. We can figure something out?—”

“Absolutely not,” The words come out sharper than I intended. “Minny, if something happened to you because of me...it would destroy me. Your kids need their mother. Mike needs his wife.” I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, “I've already put you at risk just by being here. Had I known…”

“Stop,” she interrupts. “There is no way you could have known any of this would have happened. I shouldn’t have drug you out here with me.”

“There’s no way either of us could have known. We still don’t know who is targeting me or why. It’s safer for you to go home.”

“But—”

“I'll be okay with Thor.” I sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in mine, “He knows what he's doing. His club seems to want to help me. They probably have connections we could only dream of.”

She doesn't look convinced, but she squeezes my hands anyway. “Promise me you'll check in. Every day.”

“I promise.” Another lie to add to my collection. Until this is all over, I can’t risk them going after her. “You should get ready. Your flight leaves in a couple of hours.” I stand, brushing my palms against my jeans, “I'll make coffee.”

Minny hesitates, then nods, “Fine, but this conversation isn't over.”

I leave her to get ready while I escape to the living room, my chest tight with unspoken words. Thor's massive frame fills the doorway to the front porch, his back to me, shoulders tense beneath his leather cut. The morning light catches on the patches sewn there.

“Hi. Have you been out here all night?”

“Said I would, didn't I?”

“Most men say a lot of things,” the words slip out before I can stop them.

Thor's lips quirk, “Not me, Charlotte. When I make a promise, I keep it.”

I cross my arms, suddenly aware I'm still in yesterday's clothes, hair a mess. “Coffee?”

“Wouldn't say no.”

In the kitchen, I busy myself with the coffee maker, grateful for the distraction. Thor follows, leaning against the counter, close enough that I can smell leather.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” The sarcasm drips like venom.

Thor raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying my bullshit. “Wanna try that again?”

“Not particularly,” I focus on measuring coffee grounds, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

“Charlotte.” Just my name, but the way he says it—low and insistent—makes me look up. “You don't have to pretend with me.”

Something in my chest cracks open. “I'm terrified,” I admit. “For Minny. For myself. I don't know who's after me or why, and I hate that I've dragged innocent people into this mess.”

Thor pushes off the counter, closing the distance between us. “You didn't drag anyone anywhere. This isn't your fault.”

“Isn't it? If I hadn't married a psychopath?—”

“Stop. We don’t even know for sure that it’s him.” His hand covers mine, stilling my nervous movements, “You're not responsible for other people's evil.”

The coffee maker sputters to life, filling the silence between us. I want to believe him, but guilt is a familiar companion, one I've carried for so long I'm not sure who I'd be without it.

“How do you do it?” I ask, pulling away to grab mugs from the cabinet.

“Do what?”

“Live in this world. Deal with violence and danger and still sleep at night.”

He considers this, accepting the steaming mug I offer. “You compartmentalize. Focus on what you can control. And you find people who have your back.” Thor takes a long sip. “People like us—the club—we understand there's darkness in the world. We just choose to face it head-on.”

I turn his words over in my mind, wondering what it would be like to have that kind of certainty, that kind of family. Before I can respond, movement outside the window catches my eye.

A figure appears at the edge of the property—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with purpose toward the front door of the house. My breath catches.

“Thor.” I nod toward the window.

He's in motion instantly, coffee forgotten as he moves to the side of the window, peering out with practiced caution. His hand goes to his waistband where I glimpse the butt of a gun.

“Stay here,” he orders.

“Who is it?” My heart hammers against my ribs, scenarios flashing through my mind—Terrance, his friends, hired muscle.

“Don't know yet. If I tell you to run, fucking do it.”

Thor moves toward the front door with predatory grace, one hand still hovering near his weapon. My mouth goes dry as I press myself against the kitchen wall, straining to hear. The front door creaks open, and Thor's voice carries through the small house.

“The fuck you doing here?” His tone is sharp but lacks the deadly edge I'd expect if it were a genuine threat.

A deep chuckle follows, “You thought I'd let you have all the fun.”

My shoulders relax slightly at the familiar cadence of banter between men who clearly know each other. I inch toward the doorway, peering around the corner to see Thor blocking the entrance, his broad back to me as he faces another man in a matching vest.

“Raze sent me,” the newcomer says. “Said you might need backup for the airport run, and I might have convinced him that unless he wanted his sister up his ass about the long hours I’ve been working…it might be better for me to be closer to the action.”

“I got it handled,” Thor growls, but he steps aside to let the man in.

The stranger is nearly as tall as Thor but leaner, with dark hair cut high and tight against his scalp, and a neatly trimmed beard framing a sharp jawline. A slow smile spreads across his face.

“So, this is the damsel.” He gives me a once-over that isn't exactly leering but isn't entirely respectful either. “I can see why you rode in on that white horse of yours.”

“Charlotte,” Thor corrects him firmly.

“Voodoo, but you can call me V,” the man introduces himself with a slight nod in my direction.

“You're the tech guy who’s been helping us.”

“I prefer to call myself a master of the electronic arts, but tech guy works, too.”

The sharp crack of the back door flying open sends me scrambling behind Thor's massive frame, my heart leaping into my throat. The kitchen door bangs against the wall with enough force to rattle the cheap dishes in the cabinets.

V bursts into laughter at my reaction. “Look at her hiding behind you like you're a human shield. Smart girl—I'd use Thor as a bulletproof vest too. All that muscle's gotta be good for something.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Thor growls, but his body relaxes as a mountain of a man stomps into the kitchen.

The newcomer is even bigger than Thor, with forearms covered in tattoos and a face that looks like it's been broken more than once.

His cut bears the same Heaven's Rejects patch as Thor's, but with an additional rocker that reads Enforcer .

He tosses a heavy duffle bag onto the floor with enough force that it makes the floorboards groan.

“If I have to listen to one more fucking word about bandwidth and encryption and about what fucking nerdy shit you are obsessed with right now, I swear to Christ I will throw your ass in a ditch.”

“This is Ratchet,” Thor says, moving to the side to expose my hiding spot. “Raze send you to babysit me?”

“More like V's babysitter,” Ratchet growls, rolling his shoulders like he's trying to work out hours of tension.

“Four fucking hours in a van with this chatty asshole.” He jerks his thumb at V, who's still grinning like he finds the whole situation amusing, “Raze figured you could use the extra muscle, and I need to get away from the clubhouse before I strangle someone.”

“Aw, you love me,” V says, batting his eyelashes at Ratchet. “Don't let the grumpy exterior fool you, Charlotte. He's a teddy bear underneath all that brooding.”

Ratchet's glare could melt steel. “Keep talking, V. See what happens.”

The testosterone-fueled banter would be almost comical if my nerves weren't shot to hell. I clear my throat, drawing their attention back to me.

“I don't mean to interrupt your little reunion, but would someone mind explaining what the hell is going on?”

Before anyone can answer, Minny steps out of the hallway, dragging her suitcase behind her. She freezes as she takes in the three leather-clad bikers filling our small kitchen. Her gaze darts from Thor to the newcomers, then to me, panic rising in her expression.

“Charlie…You didn't mention we'd have...company.”

“I didn't know,” I say quickly, moving to her side. “Minny, it's okay. They're with Thor.”

V's eyebrows shoot up as he gives Minny an appreciative once-over. “Well, hello there.”

“You’re fucking married to Raze’s sister, jackass,” Thor growls, and V raises his hands in mock surrender. “Knock it off.”

Ratchet pulls out his cell phone, aiming the camera at V, “Better yet. Keep it up. Maybe this is how we get rid of you.”

The three of them get lost in their own conversation, lobbing barbs at each other.

“They’re friends of his, I think,” I tell her. Not that you could assume that with the way they are slinging insults.

Minny doesn't look convinced, clutching her suitcase handle like a lifeline. “Friends who threaten to throw each other in ditches?”

“Brothers,” Thor corrects, and something in his tone makes both V and Ratchet straighten slightly.

“We're here to make sure you get out of here safely, and Thor’s girl is covered.”

“I’m not his…” I start before Thor shoots me a look.

“When a biker looks at you like that, you're his. It’s better not to fight it. Ratch here had to chase his wife to the other side of the country to get her. Thor would probably go even farther.”

“Enough,” Thor growls.

“Speaking of traveling,” V says, pulling out his phone and checking the time, “your flight leaves in two hours. We should get moving if we want to sweep the airport first.”

“Sweep the airport? What the hell does that mean?”

Ratchet hefts his duffle bag from the floor up onto the counter with a metallic clank that makes me flinch. “Means we check for unfriendly faces before you walk into what could be a trap.”

“Jesus Christ,” I breathe. “This is insane.”

“Welcome to our world,” V says, but his tone lacks the earlier teasing. “Better paranoid than dead.”

“Text me when you get the all-clear, and I'll bring Minny myself,” Thor continues. “Better if we stagger our arrivals.”

My stomach drops. “Wait, what? You're not taking me with you?”

Thor turns to me, his expression unyielding, “Ratchet stays here with you.”

“The hell he does.” I step forward, arms crossed, “I'm going to the airport. I need to make sure Minny gets on that plane safely.”

“Not happening. The men after you don’t know where you are right now, Charlotte. They could have people watching the airports, waiting for you to show. If they see you there?—”

“I don't care. She's my best friend. I dragged her into this mess.”

“And I'm doing my best to keep you both alive.” His hand lands on my shoulder, firm yet reassuring. “Think about it—if they spot you at the airport, they’ll know you’re still here.

They could track us right back to this place.

This is the smartest move. Let me get Minny out of here, and then we’ll figure out our next steps. ”

I want to argue, but the logic is sound. If they're watching the airports, my presence would put us all at risk. Still, the thought of being left behind while Minny faces this alone—even with Thor beside her—makes my chest tighten painfully.

“Fine,” I concede, hating how helpless I feel. “But you better get her safely on that plane.”

“She'll be home before her kids get out of school.”

Minny steps forward, pulling me into a fierce hug. “Stay safe, please. I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I'll be fine.” I squeeze her back, fighting the lump in my throat, “Just go home to your family. Forget about all this.”

She pulls back, fixing me with a stern look, “Like hell I will.”

V clears his throat, “Hate to break up the goodbye party, but we need to head out if we’re going. I need at least an hour to do my magic.”

Thor nods, all business again. “Let's move.” He turns to Ratchet, “You know what to do.”

Ratchet grunts in acknowledgment, already unzipping his duffel bag to reveal what looks like enough firepower to start a small war. I swallow hard, the reality of my situation hitting me anew.

“Trust me.”

Before I can respond, he leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that steals my breath. It's not gentle—it's possessive, demanding, a promise wrapped in heat. His hand cradles the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.

Then he pulls away, leaving me dazed. “I'll be back before you know it.”

He gives Ratchet a meaningful look, then guides Minny toward the door with a gentle hand on her back. V follows, throwing me a wink over his shoulder as they file out. The door closes with a soft click that sounds impossibly final.

Through the window, I watch a white van pull away, kicking up dust as it disappears. The silence that follows is deafening. Minny is gone. Thor is gone. And I'm left here with a stranger who looks like he kills people for breakfast.

I turn to find Ratchet methodically checking a handgun, his movements practiced and efficient. My throat tightens. This isn't some romantic adventure—it's my life now. For now, anyway.