CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Aggie
The sharp scent of fresh paint fills my nostrils as I dip the roller into the tray, saturating it with periwinkle blue.
Sienna and I have been at this for hours, transforming her bedroom in one of the "bonus" trailers from a drab beige to something more vibrant.
My arms ache from the repetitive motion, but there's a satisfaction in seeing the walls come alive with color.
I glance over at Sienna as she meticulously edges around the window frame. "You're sure you're happy you ditched the sorority?"
The question's been nagging at me since we got back to Vegas.
Sienna doesn't hesitate. "Yeah, absolutely. It was going to happen soon anyway."
I raise an eyebrow, pausing mid-stroke. "Oh? Why's that?"
She sets down her brush, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and leaving a smear of blue. "You realize they didn't even notice we were gone, right? Like, none of them."
I can't keep the disbelief from my voice. "What?"
We stayed in Montana for a little over two weeks.
The idea that no one had noticed our absence is... well, it stings a bit.
Sienna nods, her expression filled with frustration. "I texted Elizabeth, and you know what she said? She told me I needed to make sure our room was clean before I left."
She rolls her eyes. "Like, the room was damn spotless, so..."
I let out a low whistle, shaking my head. "That's cold."
My mind races, thinking back to all the times we'd bent over backwards for the sorority, the endless social obligations, the pressure to maintain a certain image.
It was obviously all for nothing.
"Exactly," Sienna agrees, picking up her brush again. "It just made me realize how superficial it all was, you know? I mean, we were supposed to be sisters, but they couldn't even be bothered to check if we were okay."
I don’t know why, but I’m not overly surprised. "I get it. It's like... we were trying so hard to fit in, we didn't stop to think if it was worth it."
I shake my head and laugh, the sound tinged with a hint of bitterness. "Maybe we shouldn't have been in a sorority in the first place, but I'm glad I got to experience it with you."
The words come out softer than I intended.
Sienna's brush pauses mid-stroke, and she turns to me with a warm smile. "You know what? The best thing that came out of that whole mess was our friendship."
Her words hit me right in the chest, and I feel a rush of affection for this girl who's become like a sister to me. "Aye, you're not wrong there," I agree, my emerald eyes meeting hers.
We fall into silence, the rhythmic swish of our brushes against the wall filling the air.
The periwinkle blue paint transforms the room, making it feel lighter, airier.
"You know," I muse, dipping my brush into the paint tray, "I never thought I'd be spending New Year's Eve working like this."
Sienna snorts. "What, you mean you didn't envision ringing in the new year covered in paint on a clubhouse trailer park?"
I laugh, the sound echoing off the freshly painted walls. "Och, of course I did. It was my lifelong dream, don't you know?"
As we continue to work, I can't help but reflect on how much has changed in such a short time.
From Montana to Vegas, from sorority girl to... whatever I am now.
Jolt's girl?
A biker chick?
I'm not sure I have a label for it yet.
"Hey, Sienna?" I say, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad we're here. Together."
The words feel inadequate, but I hope she understands what I'm trying to say.
Sienna’s honestly turned into my best damn friend.
She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Me too, Aggie. Me too."
We turn back to our work, the room slowly transforming around us.
As I paint, I can't help but wonder what other changes this new year will bring.
With Jolt in my life, I have a feeling it's going to be one hell of a ride.
Suddenly, the door flies open with a bang, causing me to jump and nearly topple off the stepladder.
My heart hammers in my chest as I whirl around, paintbrush raised like a weapon.
"Where's the fire?" I demand.
Doc stands in the doorway, eyes intense and urgent.
His athletic frame fills the entrance, and I can see the tension in his shoulders.
"Jolt needs you," he says, his voice clipped. "Now."
I blink, taken aback by his abruptness. "I'm sure he can give me thirty minutes," I reply, gesturing at the mess around us. "I have to help Sienna clean this bloody mess up."
Doc shakes his head, his jaw set. "No time. He needs you right now."
I feel a flare of irritation.
Who does he think he is, barging in here and making demands?
I may be Jolt's ol’ lady, but I'm not at his beck and call.
"Listen here, Doc," I start, my voice taking on an edge. "I don't know what's got your knickers in a twist, but?—"
The distant rumble of a motorcycle cuts through my words, growing louder by the second.
I pause, my gut twisting with a mix of anticipation and unease.
What could be so urgent?
"Aggie, please," Doc says, his tone softening slightly. "It's important."
I open my mouth to argue further when heavy footsteps thunder up the stairs.
Jolt appears behind Doc, his dark hair tousled and his green eyes blazing with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
"For fuck's sake, Ghost, come on!" he barks, his gaze locking onto mine.
The urgency in his voice, the use of nickname—it hits me like a punch to the gut.
Something's wrong.
Really fucking wrong.
I hesitate for a split second, torn between my loyalty to Sienna and the pull I feel toward Jolt.
But the look in his eyes decides it for me.
"I'm sorry," I say to Sienna, already moving toward the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can to help clean up."
Sienna waves me off. “It’s no big deal, Ag. I’ll talk to ya later.”
As I follow Jolt down the stairs, my mind races.
What could possibly be so urgent?
I rush after Jolt, my heart pounding in my chest.
The cool night air hits my face as we step outside, and I can smell the lingering scent of paint on my hands.
"Jolt, what's going on?" I ask, grabbing his arm. "You're scaring me."
He turns, his eyes softening for just a moment. "I can't explain here, Ghost. We need to go."
I bite my lip, frustration bubbling up inside me. "Can ye at least give me a hint? Is someone hurt?"
Jolt shakes his head, leading me to his bike. "I promise I'll tell you everything when we get there. Just trust me, okay?"
I want to argue, to demand answers, but something in his voice stops me.
I've never seen him this tense, this... worried.
It sends a chill down my spine.
"All right," I give in, swinging my leg over the bike behind him.
As I wrap my arms around his waist, I can feel the tension in his muscles.
The engine roars to life, and we're off, tearing through the streets of Vegas.
The wind whips through my hair, and I cling tighter to Jolt, my mind racing with possibilities.
What could be so urgent that he couldn't even spare a minute to explain?
We ride for what feels like hours, but my phone tells me it's only been about ten minutes when we pull up to a dilapidated metal building.
It looks abandoned, the kind of place you'd expect to see in a horror movie.
"Jolt," I start, but he's already off the bike, striding toward the entrance.
I follow him inside, my eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light.
The air is thick with dust and something else... something metallic that makes my stomach churn.
As we round a corner, I see a familiar figure.
Widow stands with his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression replaced by something darker.
His eyes are fixed on something in the middle of the room, and as I follow his gaze, I feel my blood run cold.
"Oh my God," I whisper, my hand flying to my mouth. "What have ye done?"
My eyes widen in shock as I take in the scene before me.
Strung up on meat hooks, his body wrapped in barbed wire, is Trevor.
Blood drips steadily from numerous wounds, creating a crimson pool on the concrete floor beneath him.
His face is barely recognizable, swollen and bruised beyond belief.
"Jolt," I whisper, my voice trembling. "What is this?"
He meets my gaze, his deep green eyes intense and unapologetic.
"This," he says, gesturing towards Trevor's battered form, "is what happens to anyone who threatens or dares to harm you, Ghost. I told you I'd do anything to keep you safe. I meant it."
I swallow hard, trying to process his words.
Part of me is terrified by the brutality before me, but another part... another part feels oddly protected, cared for.
"What..." I pause, licking my dry lips. "What did you do to him?"
Jolt's expression darkens. "What needed to be done."
I can't tear my eyes away from Trevor's limp form. "Is he... did you kill him?"
Widow speaks up from behind us, his voice gruff. "He ain't dead. Just passed out from the pain."
Jolt steps closer to me, his presence both comforting and intimidating. "Would it bother you if I had killed him, Ghost?"
I stare at him, searching his face.
The playful, charming man I've come to know is still there, but there's an edge to him now, a darkness I hadn't fully understood before.
I open my mouth to respond, but I realize... I don't know the answer.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to say to him.