Page 73 of Bully's Darkness

Olivia

The sun is just starting to dip behind the clubhouse, casting long golden shadows over the carpark like it always does before the night rolls in. That twilight hour, where things soften, where everything feels peaceful.

I settle on the front steps with a notepad balanced on my knees, doodling lazy curves, hearts, and half-formed logos while I brainstorm ways to grow the business.Ourbusiness. The club’s more than just patched jackets and engines now. It’s potential. A future.

It’s been weeks since Bully and I took that leap again. And now, it’s like a distant memory. And he’s proving himself every damn day. Even Bria, who once threatened to skin him alive, can’t deny the shift. He’s not just showing up, he’s showingmeoff. Making space. Making amends. Loving out loud.

I glance up, eyes lingering on him, shirtless, sweat-slicked, working on his Harley with that mix of focus and chaos that somehow always undoes me.

He glances over and catches me staring, and he grins that crooked grin that drives me mad. “You staring again, Liv?”

“Obviously,” I smirk. “You’re the best view out here.”

He drops the wrench, wipes his hands on a rag like he’s got nowhere else to be but here, and strolls over, cocky, effortless . . .mine.

His oil-stained fingers cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Best. View. Ever.”

His kiss is warm, familiar, teasing. Like he’s memorising me. And when he pulls back, he’s still smiling. “I still don’t know how I got so lucky,” he murmurs.

“Hard work,” I say, tracing his jaw with my fingers, “and multiple orgasms.”

He huffs a laugh. “Speaking of orgasms . . .”

His fingers lace through mine, and he tugs me up, wrapping an arm around my waist. We head towards the club, our kingdom, our chaos.

We have scars, some you can see, most you can’t. The past still echoes. But love doesn’t need to erase it—it just needs to make space around it. For second chances. For rebuilding. For us.

I’m not standing in his shadow anymore. I’m standingwithhim.Besidehim. As us. His darkness is my light, and my fire is his calm. And this time, I don’t have to ask to be seen.Because every day, in every way, he shows me.

The plans I’ve been scribbling—expanding the garage, opening that community space Bria keeps banging on about, maybe even running self-defence classes for women and girls—they don’t feel far off anymore.

They feelreal.

I am finally, completely, and irreversibly home.

The End