“That felt different,” she eked out, still panting and trying to come back down to earth. “You let go and nothing bad happened. It worked, Finn.”
“Yeah.” I grasped her hips and flipped us, so she didn’t have to take my weight bearing down on her. I reached out and stroked a soft path down her cheek. “All because of you. You’re my anchor.”
25
~Wraith~
WHAT A RUSH.
It’d been way too long since I’d felt the exhilaration of tearing down an empty road on my Harley at breakneck speed.
Motorcycles tended to draw attention and I’d been living a life that couldn’t tolerate that. So, I’d forbidden myself from riding for years.
I’d forgotten just what I’d been missing all of this time.
There was nothing else quite like it in the world.
Freeing.
Euphoric.
It was a goddamn part of me.
I smiled to myself. Anarchy had been right. I was meant for this life. At thirty-eight years old, it’d been a hell of a long time coming.
It was horrifying how one decision could derail your whole life and throw you off course in such a huge way. My greatest regret was joining Nemesis. It’d almost ruined me completely.
But regrets were the antithesis to hope. And after years of being forced to stand still and basically press the pause button on my life, I was finally moving forward.
A great deal of that was due to Ashley. She truly was the light to my dark. The other night was indisputable proof.
She’d freed me.
She’d found a way to help me control the monster in a way like never before.
I’d never had it come out like that, then simply retreat. But it had, for her. That night and both times we’d tried it since over the last week. I was still trying to wrap my head around it, the relief it brought me and the huge change it made to my life.
While my morale was up, the rest of the club was about to get a boost too.
My work shoring up club security was finally complete. All the boys had fulfilled their preparation duties for the coming war too. Both our offense and defense were ready.
To get everyone into the right headspace for what was coming, Scott had arranged a morale-boosting barbecue in the ample half-acre clubhouse yard.
I was just finishing up a sweep of the borders, then I was heading up there.
My earpiece buzzed, a call coming through.
I gave it a tap. “Wraith.”
“Baby.”
I smiled at the sound of her sweet voice in my ear.
“Little warrior. I’ll be heading up to the clubhouse in fifteen. I’ll see you soon.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m not there.”
“What?”
“Relax, I’m just going to be a bit later than we agreed. I’m downtown finalizing the location for TRUE INK.”
I hesitated, fighting to push down my immediate, instinctual reaction to lay into her for breaking the protection detail protocol I’d set up.
Safeguarding her twenty-four-seven, while allowing her the freedom to move about as she wished, required a complicated system and a strict schedule. I had all club members working shifts on her, so there wasn’t a single moment that she was without eyes on her. Unlike when she’d lived here before, I’d ordered everyone to keep out of sight and not to interfere with anything she did, unless it was absolutely called for.
And now she’d upset all my work, my carefully constructed system.
My frustration was mollified somewhat, because I knew she hadn’t done it to cause trouble. For one, she didn’t know about the system. All she knew was that she was being protected.
Plus, I understood her reasoning. She was so excited about opening her tattoo parlor, of her dream finally becoming a reality. With the worry of the overarching threat I was glad she was focusing on the positive, on the future. The least I could do was to support that.
But her safety still came first. Always. “All the boys are up at the barbecue. There’s no one scheduled on the clock right now to watch over you. I need you to head to a public space. Legacies will do. Wait there until I can get to you.”
“Finn,” she said, chuckling with amusement, clearly assuming I was just being overprotective. “It’s the middle of the day and on club territory.”
“We don’t want to tempt fate.”
She huffed. “Fine. I’ll head there right now.”
“Good. Thank you. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you, even when you are being paranoid.”
She hung up and I drew in a calming breath, then sped up towards the final border that I needed to check. One of the cameras I’d installed had gone dark a few minutes ago. Scott and I had figured it was just a fluke, some kind of technical issue. But we had to be sure.
I made the left turn that led out to the border.
Adrenaline shot through me when I caught sight of a figure in the middle of the road.
I drew closer.
Approximately three hundred feet out.
I slowed my speed.
One hundred and fifty feet.
A man staggered forward in clear pain, an oversized hoodie covering his facial features.
Fifty feet.
I started to slow to a stop and pulled off to the side.
I dismounted quickly, pulling my helmet off and hanging it off the handlebars, then drew my gun and approached.
“Identify yourself!” I called out.
No answer.
“State your business here!” I boomed again, cocking my gun.
The guy stopped walking, seemingly waiting for me to reach him.
Cautiously, I closed the distance between us, on high alert, my finger hot on the trigger.
Slowly, he reached up and pulled down his hood, revealing himself.
Jesus Christ.
Despite the severe cuts and bruises disfiguring his face, I recognized him from photos around the clubhouse, my training enabling me to see beyond the surface.
The beaten, bloodied figure in front of me was none
