Page 3

Kasen

I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as Tempest’s house loomed ahead. My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst. What the hell was I doing?

The rumble of his bike was a constant reminder he was right behind me. I couldn’t shake the image of his piercing gaze, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on his rugged features.

“Get it together, Kasen,” I muttered, willing my racing thoughts to slow.

But they wouldn’t. They kept circling back to Tempest -- his intensity, his barely contained anger, the way he commanded respect with just a look. I’d been infatuated since I was sixteen, but this? This was madness.

The bike’s engine roared louder as Tempest pulled up beside me. I stopped the car and rolled down my window.

“You okay?” His gruff voice carried over the rumble of the engine.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I didn’t give him a chance to ask anything else and took off. Tempest matched my speed effortlessly.

We were getting close now. Too close. Panic clawed at my throat. What if someone from the club saw us? What would they think? What would my dad think?

Tempest’s house appeared around the bend. My palms were slick with sweat as I eased off the gas. This was it. No turning back now.

I pulled into his driveway, my breath coming in short gasps. Tempest circled around, parking his bike with practiced ease. As he dismounted, his eyes never left me.

This was either the bravest or dumbest thing I’d ever done. Probably both. Was I making a mistake? This was huge! He’d told me there would be no going back. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became.

I turned off the engine, my hand trembling as I reached for the door handle. Then I saw him. Viking. Across the street, hunched over a sleek black motorcycle, his massive frame impossible to miss.

My stomach dropped. Of all the people to be here, it had to be the Road Captain. I froze, one foot on the driveway, torn between fleeing and facing whatever storm I’d just walked into.

Viking’s head was bent over the bike’s engine, his long hair falling forward. He seemed oblivious to my presence, but for how long?

“Shit,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I forced myself out of the car, my legs unsteady. Tempest was watching me, his expression unreadable. The air felt charged, snapping with unspoken tension.

“You came,” Tempest said, his voice low and rough.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. My eyes darted back to Viking, then to Tempest. The conflict raging inside me was almost painful. I wanted this -- wanted him -- so badly it hurt. But the consequences… God, the consequences could be disastrous.

“I… I shouldn’t be here,” I managed, hating how weak I sounded.

Tempest took a step closer, his presence both thrilling and terrifying. “But you are.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. “If Viking sees --”

“Let him,” Tempest growled, his eyes flashing with a familiar intensity.

My breath caught. This man would be the death of me, one way or another.

I couldn’t think. The air felt thick with years of unspoken desire threatening to ignite. Tempest was mere inches away, close enough I could smell leather and motor oil, could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Kasen,” he said, my name a gravelly whisper on his lips.

My knees nearly buckled. “Tempest, I --”

He reached out, fingers barely grazing my arm. That slight touch sent shockwaves through me. I jerked back instinctively, the reality of our situation crashing around me.

“We need to slow down,” I blurted, my voice trembling. “This… us… it’s too fast.”

There was a storm brewing behind his eyes. “What are you saying?”

I struggled to form coherent thoughts, overwhelmed by his proximity, by the weight of what we were risking. “I’m saying… I don’t know if I can handle this. The club, the scrutiny. It’s all so much.”

Tempest’s expression hardened, but I caught a flicker of something else -- hurt, maybe? -- before it vanished. “You think I can’t protect you?”

“It’s not about protection,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “It’s about being ready for what comes with… with being yours.”

The words hung between us, heavy with implication. Tempest’s eyes bored into mine, searching for something. I held my breath, terrified of what he might see.

I couldn’t bear it another second. Without waiting for his response, I spun on my heel and bolted for my car. My heart thundered in my chest, drowning out everything but the desperate need to escape.

“Kasen!” Tempest’s voice boomed behind me, a mix of confusion and anger.

I fumbled with my keys, cursing under my breath as they slipped from my sweaty fingers. “Come on, come on,” I muttered, snatching them up.

The car door clicked open and I threw myself inside, slamming it shut. My hands shook as I jammed the key into the ignition.

“Goddamnit, Kasen!” Tempest’s fist pounded on the window. “Don’t you dare run from this!”

I revved the engine, refusing to look at him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear me.

Tires squealed as I peeled out of the driveway. In my rearview mirror, I caught a final glimpse of Tempest. He stood rigid, his face a mask of frustration and something else I didn’t want to name.

My chest ached. What had I done?

I burst through the front door, my vision blurred by unshed tears. The familiar scent of home -- lavender and leather -- hit me but brought no comfort. I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, desperate to reach the sanctuary of my room.

“Kasen? That you, honey?” Mom’s voice drifted from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m -- I’m not feeling great,” I choked out, praying she wouldn’t come investigate.

I slammed my bedroom door, leaning against it as my legs gave out. Sliding to the floor, I hugged my knees to my chest, finally letting the tears flow. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered, banging my head against the door with each word.

Tempest’s face flashed in my mind -- the hurt in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. God, how could I have been so impulsive? So cowardly? I stumbled to my feet, stripping off my clothes as I made for the bathroom. The shower hissed to life, steam quickly filling the small space. I stepped under the scalding spray, letting it sear my skin.

“What were you thinking?” I whispered, pressing my forehead against the cool tile. “He’s the Sergeant-at-Arms, for Christ’s sake. Dad would lose it if he knew.”

The water pounded against my back but did nothing to wash away the memory of Tempest’s touch, his intensity. I closed my eyes, remembering the way he’d looked at me -- like I was the only thing in his world that mattered.

“But at what cost?” I asked the empty bathroom. “The club is everything to him. To Dad. I can’t… I can’t be the reason it all falls apart.”

Yet even as I said the words, my traitorous heart rebelled. The thought of never feeling Tempest’s arms around me again, never seeing that smile he seemed to reserve just for me -- it felt like a physical pain in my chest.

“Damnit, Tempest,” I growled, slamming my palm against the tile. “Why’d you have to make me fall for you?”

* * *

Tempest

The cigarette flared to life in my hand, a tiny inferno against the encroaching twilight. I inhaled deeply, the smoke a searing brand down my throat, acrid and bitter. My eyes narrowed, tracking the empty road where Kasen’s taillights had vanished minutes ago.

“Fuck.” The word was a gritty rasp on my tongue.

Frustration coiled through me, tension in every muscle. Kasen’s wide, questioning eyes haunted me, her faltering words about needing space echoing in my head. You knew this wouldn’t be easy. She’s Tank’s daughter, damn it .

The rumble of a motorcycle cut through the quiet, drawing my gaze across the street. Viking, fiddling with his engine. Had he seen her? The thought twisted in my gut, a cold knot of apprehension. She’d freaked over him seeing us together, and I’d told her it didn’t matter. But now… I got her point and understood her worry over the situation. Didn’t mean I had to like it.

Another drag, the smoke curling into the twilight. She’s not ready. Maybe she’ll never be .

But doubt gnawed at the edges of my conviction. The memory of Kasen’s smile, the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching -- it sparked something in me, a flicker of warmth in the frozen wasteland of my heart.

“Damnit, girl,” I muttered, letting out a frustrated groan. “What are you doing to me?”

I flicked the cigarette, watching embers scatter like dying fireflies on the concrete. My jaw muscles worked beneath the skin like restless demons.

The club would have opinions. Loud, unwelcome ones. Kasen was one of the club princesses. I might be an officer, but that wouldn’t matter. As far as Tank was concerned, no one was good enough for his girls, which was probably why all three were still single.

I could already hear the whispers, feel the prickling heat of judgmental stares. Tank’s daughter and the Sergeant-at-Arms. It was a recipe for disaster, a powder keg waiting for the spark of gossip to ignite.

But I’d meant it when I said if we took that next step, that was it. Neither of us would be able to take it back, and I didn’t think I wanted to. Now that I’d set my sights on her, I was having a hard time letting her go. For one, it wasn’t in my nature. For another, I’d finally given myself permission to have the one thing I’d wanted for a while -- Kasen. Now I was giving her the space she needed, and I fucking hated it. She didn’t think she could handle being mine, and while there was a chance she was right, I also knew she was stronger than she realized.

But a small voice in my head kept whispering what if she’s not ? Being the woman of the Sergeant-at-Arms wasn’t for just anyone. She’d need nerves of steel. Her mom was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met. If Emmie could stand by Tank, then I figured Kasen shouldn’t have an issue being by my side. It all depended on her, and how much she decided to believe in herself. And whether she’d allow herself to be happy without worrying about what everyone else thought.

The roar of a passing bike shattered the silence, making me straighten instinctively. It was just Thunder heading to his house. I gazed across the street at Viking again, but he still wasn’t paying me any attention. Staring off in the direction Kasen had left, my eyes narrowed. “I need a partner. Not a liability.”

I crushed the cigarette under my boot, the sound a satisfying crunch that echoed the breaking of my own doubts. My gaze fixed on the horizon, where the setting sun painted the sky in shades of blood and fire, a canvas of chaos mirroring the turmoil within me.

“Ball’s in your court, Kasen,” I murmured, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning. “Show me you can handle this life, this dance on the razor’s edge. Then we’ll talk. Then we’ll see if the fire in your eyes can truly withstand the storm.”

Viking’s voice sliced through my brooding. “Girl problems?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Might be the club’s business,” Viking countered, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped closer. “That was Tank’s kid, wasn’t it?”

I turned to meet Viking’s steady gaze, heat pooling in my chest. “And if she is?”

He shrugged, but his eyes sharpened like daggers. “Just saying, brother. You’re playing with fire.”

“I can handle the heat,” I growled.

“Can she?” His question hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“She’s stronger than she looks.”

“She’d have to be,” Viking said, “to stand beside the Sergeant-at-Arms.”

The truth of his words stung more than I cared to admit. If Kasen couldn’t handle a chance encounter with a brother, how the hell would she cope with the constant scrutiny and danger that came with my position? She’d grown up the daughter of the previous Sergeant-at-Arms, but we all knew Tank coddled his girls.

“She just needs time,” I muttered, more to myself than to Viking.

Viking clapped me on the shoulder. “Time might be a luxury you don’t have, brother. Word travels fast in this club.”

As he walked away, I stared down the empty road. I’d waited years for Kasen, watched her transform from a fiery teenager into a woman who ignited my blood. But Viking was right -- time had been slipping away.

I needed to know if Kasen was all in because half-measures wouldn’t cut it. Not in this life. Not with me.

I stalked into the house, slamming the door behind me. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating me with their familiarity. I needed air, space to think.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I turned and headed for my bike. The engine roared to life. I tore out of the driveway and raced to the gate. Sam saw me and threw it open before I hit it head-on.

The wind whipped past as I pushed the bike faster, harder. Each turn was a razor’s edge between control and chaos. Just like my feelings for Kasen.

I found myself on the outskirts of town, pulling into a dingy bar. The neon sign flickered weakly, promising escape in bottom-shelf whiskey.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and regret. I claimed a stool at the far end, signaling the bartender.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

The amber liquid burned going down, a welcome distraction from the storm in my head. I stared at my reflection in the grimy mirror behind the bar.

“What the hell are you doing, old man?” I muttered.

The door creaked open, and I tensed instinctively. In the mirror, I watched Sticks walk in, his presence commanding.

“Thought I saw your bike outside,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to me.

I grunted, downing the rest of my drink.

Sticks ordered his own, then turned to face me. “Viking called. Said you might need a friendly ear.”

I snorted. “Friendly, my ass. More like nosy bastards, the lot of you.”

“Maybe,” Sticks conceded. “But we’re also family. And family looks out for each other.”

I met his gaze, seeing the concern there. “Even when one of them is eyeing the old SAA’s daughter?”

Sticks’ expression hardened. “Especially then.”