Ashley didn't sleep after the funeral.
Even after Nolan barked her into the clubhouse, after Ace slipped away with that unreadable smirk, after the fire burned down to embers—she lay awake on her cot, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Derrick's body swallowed by flame, Nolan's cold stare, Jax's vanishing silhouette.
By the time dawn broke, her chest ached like she'd been in a fight.
She needed air.
So she did the only thing that made sense—she went to the shop.
The streets were still empty when she pulled up. She parked her borrowed bike out front, shoved her key in the lock, and froze.
The key turned too easily.
Ashley's stomach dropped. She pushed the door open.
Smoke.
It hit her in the throat first. The bel
