Saving Sami

Chapter 8 Burn The Map

Sami vs. Her Mom
The front door slammed behind her like a gavel.
Sami had barely taken two steps into the kitchen before her mother’s voice lashed out, sharp as a whip.
“So that’s it? You stay out all night with some biker kid, and I’m supposed to just sit here and hope you’re alive?”
Sami flinched, but didn’t shrink. Not this time, never again.
“I’m alive. I’m fine. Shocked that you even care? Get to drunk to make it to your bed?”
“You don’t talk to me like that, I’m your mother. You’re not fine. You’re eighteen and playing house with a prospect in a motorcycle gang—”
“Club,” Sami corrected flatly.
Her mother’s jaw clenched. “Oh, you’ve got the lingo down already.”
Sami dropped her backpack on the floor with a heavy thud. Her hands were still tucked in Ace’s oversized hoodie — sleeves swallowed her fingers like armor.
“You don’t know him,” Sami said quietly. “You’ve never tried.”
“I know enough. I know that kind of life. I know what it does to people. I watched your uncle drown in it—”
“Don’t put that on Ace. What Josh did has nothing to do with Ace, Josh chose the darker path, the drugs the money, the club is the only family ace has besides me.”



Her mother’s voice cracked, suddenly raw. “You think you’re the first girl who thought she could fix someone?”
“He doesn’t need fixing,” Sami snapped. “He needs someone who doesn’t run the second things get hard.”
Her mom took a long, shaky breath. “You had dreams, Sami. College. Internships. A real future.”
“This is my future.”Sami said sharply 
The words hung there like a slap.
Her mom looked at her — really looked — and her voice turned low, trembling.
“So you’re just gonna throw your life away for some boy with a bruised past and a death wish on two wheels?”
Sami stepped forward, her voice rising.
“No. I’m building one with someone who makes me feel like I matter. I’ve been walking through this house for years pretending I was okay — pretending like we were the perfect family, if I kept my mouth shut mom wouldn’t hit me, If I kept good grades mom would give me praise, you know how suffocating that is?!”



Her eyes were glassy now.
“Ace sees me. Every part of me. And if that’s throwing my life away? Then I’ll burn the whole f*****g map.”
Her mom didn’t speak.
Didn’t chase her when Sami turned, walked up the stairs, and shut her door behind her.
Sami began packing, clothes, important keepsakes from childhood, anything that she could fit in a suitcase, everything she needed to start her new life.



Burn the Map Part 2 Ace vs. The Club: “What She’s Risking”
The garage air smelled like oil and tension.
Ace stood in front of Reaper, still wearing the black tee he’d worn under his gown, chain grease staining his forearms. Grimm leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching.
Reaper didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
“You’re proud. I get it. You love her. I see that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem,” Reaper said coolly, “is that you just painted a target on her back.”
Ace’s jaw tightened. “By loving her?”
Reaper nodded once. “Exactly that.”
He stood, walking slowly toward the tool bench. Picked up a lighter. Clicked it open. Shut it.
“You think wearing this cut means you get to play hero?” Click.





“It means every decision you make has a price.”
Click.
“And bringing a girl that loud, that visible, that connected to you into our world — that price goes up.”
Click.
Ace stayed silent.
Reaper finally turned back to face him.
“Tank already doesn’t like her. Some of the older guys think she’s soft. Club girls don’t get special treatment unless they earn it.”
“She’s not a club girl.”
“Exactly,” Reaper said, eyes like ice. “She’s yours.”
He stepped closer.
“You keep kissing her in front of the world? Putting your name on her like that? Someone will test it.”
“Tank?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Rival club. Club enemies. Even someone inside. You think the Devil’s Sons don’t have ghosts? Enemies we haven’t buried yet? People who’d love to gut a prospect’s girl just to make a point?”



Ace’s stomach turned.
“You don’t get to just love someone in this life, Ace,” Reaper said. “You have to protect them. Even if it means giving up your own heart in the process.”
He flicked the lighter closed one last time.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Grimm finally spoke.
“You brought her into the fire, cousin. Now make damn sure she doesn’t burn.”
Reaper’s and Grimms words hung in the air like smoke.
Ace didn’t flinch. He ran a hand over his jaw, let the silence stretch, then stepped forward.
“I get it,” he said. “She’s a target now.”
Reaper arched an eyebrow. “Then you better get your head on straight.”
“It is on straight,” Ace said, firmer now. “You think I don’t know what this world is? What it does? I grew up watching Grimm drag himself home with busted knuckles and bloody shirts. I’ve cleaned up after fights. I’ve patched wounds I wasn’t supposed to ask about.”
He took a step closer.
“I know what it means to wear the cut. I know what I’m asking of her.”



Reaper narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly are you asking?”
“To trust me.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Then I’ll earn the rest.” Ace’s voice dropped — low, steel in his chest.
“I’ll take the hits. I’ll do the grunt work. I’ll prove myself every damn day if that’s what it takes. But I won’t push her away just because it’s easier.”
“She didn’t sign up for this life.”
“No,” Ace said. “She chose me. And that comes with everything — the club, the blood, the broken future. She knew. She knows.”
Reaper studied him.



“You think love’s enough to keep her safe?”
“No,” Ace said. “But me? I am.”
A beat.
Even Grimm straightened a little at that.
Reaper took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled slowly.
“You got fire, Prospect. Let’s see if it burns or holds.”
And just like that, the tension snapped like a rubber band.
Reaper turned and walked off, leaving a haze of smoke in his wake.
Grimm clapped a hand on Ace’s shoulder — hard, proud.
“That was the most you’ve said in six months.”
Ace didn’t smile. His jaw was still tight, heart still racing.
“It had to be said.”





Ace just drew a line in the sand.
He will stand his ground. Not because he’s reckless.
Not because he’s naive.
Because he finally sees that strength isn’t shutting people out — it’s standing between them and the storm. And he’s ready to do it.
For her. For the club. For himself.