Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
His breath hitched. His eyes darted, searching for a way out, finding none.
I let the silence stretch until I felt his fear seep through the air. Then I stepped back, slow, releasing him. He slumped against the wall, gasping.
I adjusted my cut. “Now let’s go back to dinner. Smile for your daughter. Pretend everything’s fine. But remember—when the storm hits, you’ll know exactly why. And until I’m ready for her to know, you’re gonna play my game better than you ever did for Stanley.”
I opened the door and walked out, leaving him pale and shaken in the shadows of his perfect study.
At the table, IvaLeigh looked up, relief flooding her face when she saw me. She smiled, innocent, unaware of the war I’d just promised. And my chest tightened with something sharp.
Guilt.
Because one day, when the truth came out, she’d hate me for it. But until then, I’d do anything—anything—for my son. Even if it meant breaking her heart.
Chapter 13
IvaLeigh
The drive back was quiet. I sat behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, cheek pressed to the leather of his cut. The wind snapped against us, the road unwinding in black ribbons, and still I could feel it—the shift. Something in him was different.
It wasn’t just the silence; Gonzo was a man who could live in silence without it ever feeling empty. No—this was heavier. His shoulders held a tension that hadn’t been there when we rode to my parents’ house. His grip on the bars was harder, tighter, every movement sharper.
I didn’t know what had passed between him and my father in the study, but I knew it changed something.
When he pulled into the drive at his cabin and cut the engine, the night fell quiet again. Crickets sang in the trees. The headlight clicked off, leaving us wrapped in shadows and silver moonlight.
I slid off the bike, tugging my jacket tighter. He didn’t move for a long moment. Just sat there, staring into the dark.
Finally, he swung his leg over and stood. “C’mon,” he said, voice low.
Inside, the cabin felt warmer than I expected. Safe, even with the weight pressing down on him. I dropped my bag by the couch while he pulled two beers from the fridge. He handed me one, then leaned against the counter, drinking like he needed the bite of it.
I set mine down untouched. My heart pounded, my words sticking in my throat. Finally, I blurted it out.
“Gabriel is my dad’s job a problem?”
His eyes flicked to me, sharp and unreadable. “Why you askin’ that?”
“Because you’re different tonight,” I muttered softly. “Something happened back there. I can feel it. And my dad—he’s always been proud of being this respectable man with his respectable job. But if that job is in the way somehow, I need to know. He’s a judge and you tell me you’re an outlaw so I can’t imagine those two things work together.”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer. He just studied me, like he was weighing how much truth I could take.
Finally, he set the bottle down. “Baby, your old man’s world and mine don’t mix. They never could. What I am, what I do—it don’t fit into the neat boxes men like him build their lives around. And yeah, that’s a problem.”
I swallowed hard. I always told myself not to ask questions I wasn’t prepared to hear the answer to, but this, I guess I needed to know. “What does being an outlaw biker mean, really?”
His eyes softened, but only a little. “It means loyalty above law. It means my word to my brothers comes before anything the state writes on paper. It means when the system fails us—and it always does—we take care of our own. Sometimes with our hands. Sometimes with our blood. It means you need to know there won’t be a line I won’t cross to protect what matters to me.”
My pulse raced. The words were heavy, dangerous. But they weren’t lies. “Am I in danger?” I asked, my voice smaller now.
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The word cut sharp. Honest. No attempt to soothe.
But before fear could take root, I shook my head. “No. Not really.”
He frowned. “I just told you—”
“I know,” I interrupted. “I know there’s danger. I know people hate you. I know being with you means walking into fire. But I also know something else.”
I stepped closer, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. “I know you are a man who will keep me safe. I can feel it every time you look at me. Every time you touch me. You’re danger, Gonzo, but not to me.”
For a moment, neither of us breathed. His eyes burned into mine, dark and intense, and I saw it happen. The shift.
Something primal broke loose inside him, something I’d only glimpsed before. My words had lit it. My certainty had unleashed it.