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CHAPTER FIFTY

WHEN THE SUN rose, I finally slipped out of my room. The hallway felt different—buzzing with voices, movement, new tension in the air. Something had shifted.

I crossed the common room toward the kitchen, hoping to find Lucy or Brenda.

That’s when I saw them.

New faces. Visitors from other chapters, none of them familiar. There were loud, joking, and seemed to comfortable here. Their vests all bore the same patch— The Devil’s House —but different states stitched underneath.

I paused in the doorway, and then I saw her.

A woman, a stranger, with thick dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy ban. She laughed at something the man, another stranger beside her said, leaning into him, completely at ease.

Her face turned slightly—and my breath left me.

She looked like him.

The resemblance… it was like my heart dropped through the floor. Same eyes. Same cheekbones. Same mouth and chin.

I froze.

My pulse pounded so loud I could hear nothing else. My hands started to shake, legs stiff and useless. She turned her head again, catching my gaze and our eyes locked. And then I turned—fast—stumbling back down the hall, my shoulder brushing the wall as I tried to breathe. I made it to my room before the tears came.

Not from pain.

From fear.

From memory.

From the way my body remembered his touch even though he wasn’t here.

He’s not here, I told myself, but my body didn’t believe it. A knock hit my door, firm but not hard. Then it opened slowly, and Mystic stepped in, closing it gently behind him.

“You alright?” he asked, voice filled with concern.

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the floor, my arms wrapped around myself. “She—” I swallowed hard. “She looks like Drago.”

Mystic’s eyes darkened. He stepped closer but gave me space. “You mean Jaycee?”

I nodded.

“I know,” he said. “Caught me off guard the first time too.”

My voice came out broken. “Is she his...?”

“Cousin,” Mystic said, jaw tight. “From what I heard, same blood, different life. She didn’t even know he existed ‘til a couple years ago.”

My breath shook. “She looked right at me. I couldn’t move.”

Mystic stepped in then, slow and careful, like he was walking up on a wounded animal. His hand brushed my arm, warm and steady.

“She ain’t him, Zeynep,” he murmured. “I promise you that. Jaycee’s Kickstand’s ol’ lady. She’s solid. Tough as hell, but not cruel. You’re safe. Nobody in this club would let Drago’s poison through that door.”

“I know it,” I whispered. “Here.” I tapped my temple. “But not here.” My hand pressed over my chest.

He nodded like he understood too well. “You wanna go back out there?” he asked gently.

I hesitated. “Yes. But... not like this. I need a minute.”

“Alright,” he said. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

I watched him turn and walk back out, the door clicking closed behind him. And I breathed.

Slowly.

Part of me felt foolish, but I couldn’t help it. I just needed a few minutes to gather myself.

***

I WAITED UNTIL my hands stopped trembling.

Until my breathing was no longer tight in my chest. Then I rose and made my way down the hall and into the common room, my feet light on the old floorboards. Lucy wasn’t in there and I knew her well enough to know she was probably outside.

I shoved the door open and looked around, sure enough spotting her sitting on the picnic table. I walked over and for a moment, I just stood there. I had so many things I wanted to say. You scared me. I thought you were dead. I don’t understand why you left.

Instead, I said—softly, “Lucy.”

She looked up at me, and in her eyes I saw it. Her fire hadn’t gone out. It was just burning quieter now.

“You look tired,” I said gently. So very glad to see she wasn’t beaten, only a few bruises here and there that I could see.

“I am.”

I sat on the table beside her. For a while, I just watched her. Lucy tended to hide her emotions deep. Then I whispered, “You left without saying goodbye.”

She glanced away, jaw tight. “Didn’t want you to try and stop me.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to and you know it.”

“Yeah, you would’ve,” she muttered. “Not with words. Just that look. Like I was walking back into the fire with my eyes open.”

I didn’t deny it.

“You’re angry,” I said instead.

“Damn right I am.” She looked at me again, and her voice rose. “I got caught, Zeynep. I planned. I watched every move. I took precautions. And still—Fang found me. Like I was nothing. Like I was a fucking baby in the woods.” She slammed her hand against the table. “And I froze.”

My chest ached. “That’s not weakness.”

“I should’ve been faster. Should’ve had my gun out sooner. Should’ve—” her voice cracked, and she cut it off, grinding her teeth.

I reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away.

“You forget I saw what he did to you,” I whispered. “Back at Dragon Fire. The day Drago made me watch. It still lives in me and I feared for you every day you were gone.”

Lucy’s face hardened. “Then you know why I can’t stand this fear. I hate it, Zeynep. I hate that I let it take hold.”

I nodded. “But pretending it is gone does not make you strong.”

Her eyes flicked to mine.

“You are strong,” I said. “But you are not untouchable. None of us are.”

She stared at me for a beat, then muttered, “We shouldn’t have to live like this.”

“I get that,” I said softly. “But I am scared. Because Fang is still out there. Because Drago... he never lets go. He’ll hunt me till I’m his again.”

Lucy flinched at that.

I let the silence settle before I continued. “You say you hate being afraid. But fear is not weakness. It is warning. You just have to listen.”

Her voice dropped low. “They’ll come back for us.”

“I know.”

She looked down at our hands. “Then we’d better be ready.”

“I have been ready,” I said. “But I do not want to be alone in it.”

She gave a slow nod. Then leaned her head against my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“So am I.”

We sat like that for a while. Two girls shaped by different kinds of pain. Bruised, but not completely broken.