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eleven

Meadow

The clubhouse buzzes with chatter, the air thick with the scent of grilled meat and cigarette smoke. I scan the room, my gaze landing on an unexpected sight. Dad and Mason, huddled together at the end of the table, deep in conversation. No blood, no bruises, just two men talking like old friends.

My fork clatters against my plate. “What the hell?”

Elle follows my gaze, a smirk playing at her lips. “Men,” she says, shaking her head. “One minute they’re trying to kill each other, the next they’re swapping war stories.”

I watch, fascinated and slightly horrified, as Dad claps Mason on the shoulder. They both laugh, the sound carrying across the room. My stomach twists, a mix of relief and lingering anger.

“Should I be worried?” I mutter, more to myself than Elle.

She snorts. “Nah. This is good. Means they’ve reached an understanding.”

“An understanding?” I echo, eyebrow raised.

Elle leans in, her voice low. “Mason proved himself. Stood his ground against your old man. That counts for a lot in this world.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my tongue. She’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, this is how things work here. Respect is earned through fists and fury.

Mason’s eyes find mine across the room. His lips quirk up in a small smile, tender despite the bruising. My heart stutters. Dad follows his gaze, his expression softening as he looks at me.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he calls out.

I can’t stay mad at my dad, so I make my way over and sit next to him. He pulls me into his side, kissing the top of my head like I’m still a little girl.

I will always love my daddy.

“I’m good now that my two favorite men are getting along.” I hug him a little tighter, hating that they were fighting.

I don’t want anyone to get hurt over me.

“I think I’m insulted, little sister.”

My eyes widen and I turn around to see my brother standing behind me, carrying a huge sack of clothes that’s military issued.

My heart leaps into my throat as I take in the sight of my brother. “Caiden!” I cry, launching myself at him.

He catches me easily, his strong arms wrapping around me. The familiar scent of his cologne mixes with something harsher, gunpowder and desert sand. I cling to him, tears pricking my eyes.

“Hey, squirt,” Caiden murmurs, voice rough with emotion. “Miss me?”

I pull back, drinking in the sight of him. His hair is shorter, face more weathered. But his eyes are the same, warm hazel, crinkled at the corners as he grins down at me.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, punching his arm lightly. “I thought you weren’t due back for another month!”

Caiden’s expression darkens slightly. “Got word about what’s going on. No way I was staying away with that psycho Peterson after my baby sister.”

A lump forms in my throat. Of course he came. Caiden’s always been fiercely protective, even when we were kids.

Dad steps forward, pulling Caiden into a bear hug. “Good to have you home, son,” he says gruffly.

I watch as they embrace, years of worry and pride passing between them in that silent exchange. When they part, both their eyes are suspiciously bright.

Caiden’s gaze lands on Mason, who’s been hanging back. The air crackles with tension as the two men size each other up.

“So,” Caiden drawls, eyes narrowing. “You’re the one who’s been looking after my sister.”

Mason steps forward, shoulders squared. “That’s right,” he says evenly. “Mason Bennett. Good to see you again, Caiden.”

They shake hands, grip firm. I hold my breath, half expecting another fight to break out. But after a moment, Caiden’s face splits into a grin.

“Heard you stood up to the old man,” he says, jerking his thumb at Dad. “Takes balls. I like you already.”

The tension dissipates, replaced by cautious camaraderie. Mason relaxes slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“All right, enough with the macho bonding,” I interject, rolling my eyes.

“My baby!” me mom screams, then starts running as fast as she can toward my brother, tears flowing freely at this point, and Mason comes over to hug me.

“What’s the screaming about?” my grandpa yells out from one of the meeting rooms, and his eyes widen at the sight of my brother home.

The clubhouse erupts into chaos as everyone rushes to greet Caiden. My mom sobs as she hugs him tightly, refusing to let go. Grandpa fully emerges from the meeting room, his face breaking into a rare smile at the sight of his grandson home safe.

My uncle Trenton is currently off finding a missing politician’s son that was kidnapped.

After he came home from the military, he opened a business where he finds missing people, and provides bodyguards and security.

I know if he wasn’t working, he’d be here too.

Mason’s arm tightens around me as we watch the joyful reunion. “You okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I nod, leaning into his solid warmth. “Just… overwhelmed. It’s been so long since we were all together like this.”

As the initial excitement dies down, Caiden extracts himself from our mom’s embrace. His expression turns serious as he surveys the room.

“All right, let’s get down to business,” he says, voice carrying the authority of a seasoned soldier. “I want a full briefing on this Peterson situation. Now.”

The mood in the clubhouse shifts instantly. My family and the club members gather around the main table, faces grim. Mason and I take seats near Caiden as Dad begins outlining everything that’s happened.

I watch my brother’s face darken with each new detail. His jaw clenches when Dad describes the threats against me, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“And now he’s targeting hospital staff,” Mason adds, his voice low and dangerous. “Left a… message for Meadow at the nurses’ station.”

Caiden’s eyes snap to mine, blazing with protective fury. “What kind of message?”

I swallow hard, the image of that mutilated rat flashing through my mind. “Nothing I want to repeat,” I manage, grateful when Mason’s hand finds mine under the table.

Just as everyone starts to settle down, my pager goes off, announcing I’m needed at the hospital.

Everyone looks at my pager like it’s a bomb, and I know right then that me leaving to go to work is going to be a fight.

I clear my throat.“It’s the hospital,” I say, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. “They need me.”

The reaction is immediate and intense.

“Absolutely not,” Dad says slamming his hand on the table.

“Are you insane?” Caiden demands, jumping to his feet. “With Peterson out there?”

Mason’s grip on my hand tightens painfully. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the fight ahead. “I have to go,” I say firmly. “People’s lives depend on me being there.”

“Your life depends on you staying here,” Mason counters, his voice low and dangerous.

I turn to face him, meeting his intense gaze. “Mason, I’m a doctor. I took an oath. I can’t just abandon my patients because things are tough.”

“Tough?” he repeats incredulously. “Meadow, there’s a psychopath out there who wants you dead. This isn’t about being tough, it’s about staying alive.”

The room erupts into chaos, everyone talking over each other. I catch snippets of their arguments:

“…can’t let her go alone…”

“…call in sick…”

“…escort her ourselves…”

My temper flares. I slam my hand on the table, the sharp crack silencing the room.

“Enough!” I shout, surprising even myself with the force of my voice. “I am going to that hospital. End of discussion.”

I stand, facing down the sea of worried faces. “I appreciate your concern. All of you. But I won’t live my life in fear. I won’t let Peterson take my purpose from me.”

My eyes find Mason’s, pleading for understanding. “This is who I am. Being a doctor isn’t just my job, it’s my calling. I can’t turn my back on that. Not even for this.”

The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring. Then, surprisingly, it’s my grandfather who speaks up.

“She’s right,” he says gruffly. All eyes turn to him in shock. “Girl’s got a duty. We can’t stop her from doing it.”

He fixes me with a steely gaze. “But you’re not going alone. We’ll set up a rotation. Always have someone watching your back.”

Relief floods through me. I nod, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

The others start to protest, but Grandpa silences them with a look. “It’s decided,” he says with finality. “Now, who’s taking first shift?”

Mason stands, his expression grim. “I am,” he says, his voice stern and leaving no arguments.

“I love all of you guys, and I know you want to protect me, but sometimes there are just things you have to do,” I tell them, my voice much softer now, the bite gone out of my tone.

I make my way over to my family members, hugging and kissing their cheeks.

“We love you,” Grandma says, patting my hand, so I give her an extra hug.