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Reagan

Two Weeks Later

My heart races as Jesse makes the final turn into a neighborhood at the edge of the Vegas suburbs. The bike leans, and my fingers grip tighter. Every movement makes me tense, and even if he made it sound simple—lean when he leans—it’s easier said than done.

I’m probably the worst person he’s ever had on the back of his bike, but hopefully, he doesn’t care, seeing as it’s my first time.

Wind whips my hair around, and I melt against Jesse’s body. The road gets dangerously close with our turn, but just as I lose my breath, I’m pulled back up.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating.

At least it’s a good excuse to hang onto Jesse because I’ll never get tired of the feel of him .

When he finally rolls to a stop and cuts the engine, he holds out a hand to help me off. My feet are shaky as I find my footing and slip off my helmet.

“She survived,” Havoc says, grinning as he hops off his bike.

He was amused at how nervous I was before we left the clubhouse, and he’s chuckling now as he watches me wrangle the helmet and peel it off.

“She did great.” Jesse swings his leg over the bike. He strips off his own helmet and tips my chin up, planting a kiss on my lips. “My little koala bear.”

My heart flutters. “I think I like that nickname.”

He winks at me, brushing my lower lip with his thumb.

Jesse never teases me about the fact that this world is new to me. He appreciates handing me these experiences and easing me into my new reality of being a biker’s old lady.

As he pulls back, I take a look around the neighborhood. Unlike the compound, gated and closed off from the rest of Las Vegas, there’s nothing special about the street. It could be any other strip of houses in the Vegas suburbs.

“This is it?”

“Everything all right?” Jesse asks.

“I expected something more secluded for a safe house.”

He laces his hand in mine. “If something happens in a neighborhood like this, the cops will show up. It’s rare our rivals will take that risk, so it’s as safe as it gets.”

Looking around, I consider what he’s saying. The lavish houses. The pristine landscapes. People who live here have something to protect. Their houses are armed with security systems, and if something were out of place—like a group of bikers rolling up in the middle of the night—they would call the police.

Maybe it does make sense after all.

“Let’s go.” Jesse leads me up the front steps of the house, with Havoc behind us.

He punches in a code and then uses a key to open a secondary lock before the door opens. Even in this neighborhood, it’s clear Ghost has security set to a maximum.

We step inside the house, and it’s as nice as the outside. Pristine and comfortable. It looks like home. Perfectly spotless and decorated.

The girl with straight black hair and piercing blue eyes I remember from the cage to my right greets us. I barely recognize her all cleaned up, and since she never spoke, I still don’t know her name. But it’s good to see color on her cheeks, even if her clothes hang baggy on her frame.

“Hi, Bryn. You might remember Reagan.” Jesse squeezes my hand.

Bryn nods. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

“Reagan’s going to be coming by to help out with anything you need, so we’re giving her the tour.”

“I’ll get the other girls.” Bryn gives a gentle smile before heading upstairs.

By the time the Twisted Kings showed up that night, it was just the four of us in the cages in the basement: Me, Bryn, Kimberly, and Aimee. There were no signs of the blonde we saw them drag upstairs, and I still wake from the nightmares of what might have happened to her. I’m just glad the remaining girls stayed and are accepting the club’s help.

I expected Aimee to bail the first chance she had, but surprisingly, she stuck around. Even if she has refused to leave her room every time Jesse has stopped by these past two weeks.

That’s one of the reasons Jesse finally agreed to bring me here, hoping my presence would help the girls feel more comfortable.

Kimberly is the first to come downstairs, and Bryn is at her side. She gives me a hug, which is surprising since she didn’t even look at me when we were in the basement. Still, it feels right to hug her and know she’s okay.

We made it.

I don’t doubt it will take time to heal that kind of trauma, but we aren’t alone in it.

“We were just about to make lunch. Are you staying?” Kimberly asks.

“Definitely.” I smile. “I’ll be right there.”

Kimberly and Bryn walk in the direction of the kitchen while I wait for Aimee. I twist my fingers in front of me, surprisingly anxious to see if she’s okay. She protected me more than once in that basement, and I’ll always owe her for helping me.

We met under the worst circumstances, but I feel a connection to her that extends beyond friendship.

When a door creaks upstairs, I breathe a sigh of relief that Aimee is willing to leave her room to see me. Jesse must notice me pulling my shoulders back because he squeezes my hand.

It takes a moment for Aimee to appear at the top of the stairs, and she moves in slow motion, walking down them once she does.

The gash from where she was hit across the face with the gun is healing, but it’s going to leave a scar through her eyebrow. I haven’t seen her in person since that night, and cleaned up, she’s somehow prettier and colder all at once. Her features are softer when not covered in dirt, but there’s nothing to bury the hard, chilled look in her eyes.

Her short brown hair is down. It brushes her shoulders with every step, and when she reaches the bottom one, she finally lifts her chin. But her gaze doesn’t meet mine; it moves past me—to Havoc.

Her face pales. An equal mix of anger and surprise washes over her face.

"Aimee?" Havoc sounds so unlike himself that my attention moves to him.

He steps forward, and he towers over Aimee. But just like when we were in that room, she doesn’t back down. Her spine straightens, and her backbone adds bite to her presence.

“Levi.” She tilts her chin up, narrowing her gaze. “You came back.”

He doesn’t respond. They just silently stare at each other. Faces drained of color and static humming in the air .

Aimee hinted to a past with the Twisted Kings, and I’m pretty sure I just figured it out. Because Havoc absently brushes his thumb over the hourglass tattooed on his knuckle, and I swear he's seen a ghost.