Ashley barely left the shop that day.
Even after Detective Ramirez's words had sunk deep, rattling around inside her like broken glass, she couldn't bring herself to walk back to the clubhouse. Every time she thought about Nolan's stare or Ace's grin or Cole's quiet scrutiny, the seed Ramirez planted twisted tighter.
Would they believe her if he'd already whispered doubt into their ears? Or would they decide she wasn't worth the risk?
So she stayed in the little storefront. She scrubbed the counter until it gleamed, stacked the boxes, laid out needles and ink in neat rows. By the time the sun dropped low, the space almost looked like it belonged to her.
Ashley tried to keep busy, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched—even though the shop was empty. Everything sh
