~TESSA~
The engine’s rumble still echoed in my bones long after Ryder killed it.
I sat frozen on the back of his bike for a moment, the world moving in slow motion... headlights, voices, the smell of oil and smoke, the low hum of music drifting through the cracked door.
Home.
And yet not.
Ryder turned toward me, his hand brushing mine. “You okay, darlin’?”
His voice... low, steady... did something to me. It wrapped around my shaking heart and told it to calm down.
But I could still see the blood on his knuckles from the fight, the fury still burning behind his eyes.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure it was true.
Inside, the clubhouse was louder — laughter, clinking bottles, the faint smell of whiskey and gun oil.
Familiar faces froze mid-conversation when they saw us
