Page 110 of Lock

Finally I eased myself out from under him without waking him and got dressed in the half-light. Boots. Shirt. Cut.

I looked back at the bed one last time.

Kellan slept on his side, face relaxed, his hand fisted in the sheets.

The meet was happening and whatever it brought with it…

I would be ready.

I pulled the door shut behind me.

16

KELLAN

Lock handedme the helmet without saying much. Just held it out until I took it.

“Put this on,” he said. Then, after a beat, quieter, “You good?”

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Arms around me when we move.”

That was it. I should probably ask more questions but something in my gut stopped me.

I swung my leg over the bike and settled in behind him easily. I’d been on bikes before—plenty of times—but this felt different in a way I couldn’t quite name. When I wrapped my arms around his waist, he shifted just enough to make room for me.

Lock felt…solid…familiar…steady.

We rode out together, bikes flanking us, Havocs rolling in quiet formation. When the road shifted, I leaned in without thinking, my forehead brushing the back of his cut. Lock didn’t stiffen. Just reached covered my hand briefly, a silent acknowledgment that he felt me there.

I didn’t know what was coming.

But for once, that didn’t feel like something I had to solve ahead of time.

The meet was set at a neutral bar just off the highway, an old MC place that had agreed to clear out and let both sides use the lot.

There could be no bodies. No bullshit. Floodlights washed over cracked asphalt and oil stains. Havocs that had gone ahead lined one side. Reapers on the other. Engines were off. And the tension sat heavy.

Lock got off first, then turned and helped me down, his hand steady on my wrist until my boots hit the ground. He didn’t move me behind him. Didn’t even give me instructions to not get in the way.

I stood at his side, close enough that our shoulders brushed, and he didn’t move away.

And of course Rowan noticed immediately.

His eyes found me before Lock. That familiar weight settled over my shoulders… it was not fear exactly, but the instinct to brace. Rowan wasn’t cruel. He never had been. I just knew where I fell in the hierarchy of things that mattered. But even with that he’d been a decent dad… even though I’d always felt like something he owned… not his actual kid.

But seeing the anger in his face struggling to stay leashed.

“You shouldn’t be standing there,” he said to me, voice low. “This isn’t where you belong. Come with me, and we’ll end this now.”

The old reaction stirred, that reflex to justify myself, to as he asked, but before I could answer, Lock moved.

He took just one step and placed himself between us, not cutting me off, just claiming the space in front of me as his. His hand came to my back, warm and steady. His fingers slid into mine without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“He’s exactly where he belongs,” Lock said. “With me.”