Page 35

Samantha

I sit at the bar, my fingers tracing nervous circles on the polished wood. The clubhouse buzzes with activity, but I barely notice. My mind is a whirlwind, every second spinning around the phone call I just made.

God, what have I done?

I try to push the thought away, but it keeps creeping back, along with a wave of nausea. Jake's face flashes in my mind. My sweet, flawed little brother, caught up in this mess. Is he safe? What if something happens to him because of me?

A biker walks past, and I flinch. Everyone here seems so casual, but I know what's happening in the back rooms. Diesel is back there right now, probably beating information out of some poor soul. The thought makes my stomach churn even more.

Do I really know him?

Is that really the man I love?

I take a shaky breath to calm myself. But it's useless. My heart is racing, and I can feel sweat beading on my forehead. Did I do the right thing betraying Diesel? Did I save my brother, or did I just hurt the man I love?

Suddenly, I see movement from the hallway. Diesel emerges, his face grim. There's blood on his shirt, and my breath catches in my throat. He spots me and gestures for me to follow him to a quiet corner.

As we step away from the crowd, I can see the seriousness in his eyes. The concern. The pain. It's unsettling; Diesel is usually so confident, so in control. Now, he looks... worried.

"Samantha," he says. “We need to talk.”

I swallow hard. "What's going on?"

Diesel runs a hand through his hair, which leaves a thick smear of blood on his forehead. "It's Victor Moretti. Things are escalating faster than we expected.” He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. "It's going to get a lot worse."

My heart freezes in my chest. I want to look away, to run, but I force myself to hold his gaze. "What do you mean, worse?"

"We're going to war, Sam. Full-on war with Moretti's crew. It's unavoidable at this point. If we don’t strike him now, everyone that matters is at risk."

The knot in my stomach tightens. War. The word echoes in my mind, conjuring images of violence and bloodshed. I think of Jake again, wondering where he is, if he's safe. There was so much he didn’t tell me when we spoke. Hell, I don’t even know if he was sober. He said he was, and I had to trust him — there was no time for anything else — but I’m not so sure. I want to scream, to beg Diesel to help me keep my brother out of this, but I bite my tongue.

I know what he’ll say; it’s what he’s said many times before.

Instead, I reach out and take Diesel's hand, ignoring the blood on his knuckles. I focus on the warmth of his skin, the strength in his grip. I think about all we've been through, the bond we've formed. It's real, isn't it? It has to be.

It can carry us through this. He’s my rock in this storm, and as long as I hold on to him, I’ll survive.

"What can I do?" I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice.

No, I’m not surprised. I’ve been through so much with him. Whatever doubts I have, whatever fears surface in the darkest, scariest regions of my heart, one thing is true — I love this man.

Diesel's expression softens slightly. He squeezes my hand.

"Just stay close. Stay safe. I'll protect you. We have a little time before the club takes action, before things get locked down even tighter. There will be planning, church, preparations… We should try to get what rest we can.”

I force myself to focus on the warmth of Diesel's hand in mine. The love I feel for him burns bright, a beacon in the darkness of my fears. "When does the lockdown begin?"

Diesel's thumb traces circles on the back of my hand.

"We've got twelve hours," he says. "It gives everyone time to get their affairs in order, prepare for the worst."

The weight of his words settles over me like a funeral shroud. Twelve hours. It's not much time, but it's something. I can feel terror threatening to overwhelm me again. It lurks at the edges of my awareness like a predator, but I push it back. I refuse to let it consume what might be our last moments of peace.

Instead, I look up at Diesel and drink in every detail of his face — the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the small scar above his left eyebrow, even the hint of ink of that tattoo that sits hidden behind his ear. I memorize it all and store it away in my heart.

A small, determined smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

"Then let's make the most of it," I say. "Let's go out and do something fun, something memorable. Before..."

“Before what?” He says.

“Before we could die.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Samantha. You know that.”

“You never know. What if…” My voice breaks, that fear cuts through the love for a moment, then I swallow it back down. “I just want to have some fun before things get real.”

Diesel's eyebrows raise slightly and a flicker of surprise crosses his face. Then, slowly, a smile forms. His eyes light up. "You know what? I know just the thing to take our minds off this lockdown. Follow me."

"Okay, lead the way."

We head outside to where his motorcycle is parked. The cool air hits my skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy clubhouse filled with sweaty, battle-ready bikers and the suffocating feeling of war. Diesel swings his leg over the bike and I move to climb on behind him. I press myself against him and a sigh leaves my chest at being close to him. At how solid and real he feels. It doesn’t matter that everything is so uncertain right now. As long as I have him, I have something to anchor me, make me feel stable while the world rages around me.

But just as he's about to start the engine, I hesitate. A flutter of nervousness mixes with the excitement in my stomach.

"Wait," I say, and I put my hand on his arm and squeeze it. "Where exactly are we going?"

Diesel turns to look at me, and a smirk plays on his lips. He leans in close, close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek.

"We're going to do something that everyone should do at least once before they die."