NO SAFE ROAD

The Phone call

Chapter Eight

The alley behind Blackwater MC was too narrow to feel like open air.

Mara stood with her back half-turned to the wall, breathing too fast, while Tessa scanned the dark stretch between the clubhouse and the row of broken-out buildings beside it. The rear exit had slammed shut behind them a minute ago, and now all Mara could hear was the thud of her own pulse and the muffled violence still happening on the other side of the brick.

She hated waiting.

Waiting meant imagining things.

Waiting meant hearing every sound twice.

“What now?” she asked.

Tessa didn’t look at her. “Now we don’t stand here like idiots.”

Mara let out a short breath that was not quite a laugh. “Helpful.”

Tessa finally glanced at her. “You want helpful, you should’ve picked a better day to show up.”

That almost got a real laugh out of her.

Almost.

Mara pushed a hand through her hair and looked toward the street. The parking lot lights threw long amber stripes over the asphalt, turning the bikes out front into dark, crouched shapes. Somewhere beyond that, a car door slammed. Then another.

Her stomach tightened.

“They’re still out there,” she said.

“Yes.”

Tessa’s answer was too calm.

Mara turned to her. “You’re not worried?”

Tessa’s mouth flattened. “Sweetheart, I’m worried. I just don’t enjoy making it obvious.”

That was so dry Mara almost forgot to be frightened.

Almost.

A sharp shout sounded from inside the building, followed by the unmistakable crash of something heavy hitting the floor.

Mara’s head snapped around.

Tessa’s expression changed only slightly. “You hear that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“That means Cole’s still moving.”

Mara’s pulse stumbled. “That’s your metric?”

Tessa gave her a flat look. “It’s the only one that matters right now.”

Mara stared at her, then back at the alley mouth. The farther side of the building opened into a strip of cracked pavement and a low chain-link fence. Beyond it were dark shapes of storage units, weeds, and a long sliver of road with no one on it.

Too empty.

Too exposed.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware that she was standing outside in the same clothes she’d driven in wearing, one bag back in the clubhouse, and no real idea what this night was going to turn into.

The thought made her stomach tighten again.

Tessa followed her gaze and snorted softly. “You want to run?”

Mara looked at her. “No.”

“Liar.”

Mara lifted her chin. “I want answers.”

“That’s not the same thing either.”

“No, apparently nothing is.”

Tessa’s mouth twitched. “Welcome to Blackwater.”

Another muffled bang came from inside the clubhouse, deeper now. Not like a fistfight. Like someone had hit a wall or a door hard enough to test the structure.

Mara flinched.

Tessa watched her for a moment, then sighed and leaned back against the brick. “You care more than you’re admitting.”

Mara stared at her. “About what?”

Tessa gestured vaguely at the building behind them. “Him. This. All of it.”

Heat rose in Mara’s cheeks. “You don’t know that.”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re trying very hard not to think about a man while he’s inside a building full of trouble.”

Mara made a sharp face. “That is not—”

Tessa lifted a brow.

Mara shut her mouth.

Tessa looked almost smug for one second, which should have annoyed her more than it did.

Then the rear door opened.

Both women turned.

Cole stepped out into the alley with the door swinging shut behind him. His shirt was rumpled, one side of his jaw darkening with a bruise, and there was fresh blood across his knuckles again, though whether it was his or someone else’s Mara couldn’t tell.

He took in the alley in a single glance, then landed on Mara.

She hated that the sight of him, whole enough to walk, made something loose inside her chest.

“Is it over?” she asked.

“No.”

That answer should have been obvious.

Tessa crossed her arms. “How bad?”

Cole’s eyes stayed on Mara while he answered. “Bad enough.”

That was also not reassuring.

Behind him, the clubhouse door opened again and two of the brothers came out, one of them dragging a metal table leg in one hand like it had become a weapon on principle. They spoke in low voices to Cole, giving him clipped pieces of information Mara could not hear.

She watched his face as they talked.

Controlled. Focused. Not calm, exactly. But composed in the way of a man who had decided feelings were a luxury item and moved on.

One of the brothers left, then the other.

Cole’s attention shifted back to her.

Mara braced herself for the next thing.

Instead, he said, “You hurt?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Did they touch you?”

The question landed with a strange force.

Mara shook her head once. “No.”

Cole’s gaze held hers for a long second, as if checking the answer against something only he could see.

Then he nodded once and looked at Tessa. “Back inside. We’re locking everything down.”

Mara frowned. “What about the men out front?”

“What about them?” Tessa asked.

Mara looked from one to the other. “They’re still here.”

“Yes,” Cole said. “And now they’re waiting to see what I do next.”

That was not comforting either.

He moved past her toward the alley door, but she stepped sideways before she could stop herself.

He stopped.

Mara looked up at him. “You’re just going back in there?”

“Yes.”

She stared. “You’re bleeding.”

His gaze flicked briefly to his hand, then back to her. “It’s not mine.”

That answer should have been enough. It wasn’t.

Tessa muttered, “Men. Always answering the wrong question.”

Cole ignored her. He was looking at Mara again, expression unreadable but not empty.

“Come on,” he said.

Mara stiffened. “Where?”

“Inside.”

“I thought you said—”

“I know what I said.”

The faint edge in his voice made her straighten, but he didn’t raise it. He didn’t need to. The authority in him had become its own language.

Mara drew in a breath. “I don’t want to be alone in there.”

Something shifted in his face.

Not much.

Just enough.

He looked at the alley door, then back at her. “Then you won’t be.”

That was all he said.

Tessa gave a short, humorless laugh. “Well, that was almost sweet.”

Cole shot her a look that made her lift both hands in surrender.

Mara frowned. “What do you mean, I won’t be?”

Cole didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he checked the lot once more, eyes moving over the parked bikes, the shadows by the road, the dark shapes of the cars still sitting farther out where Derek’s men had been earlier.

Then he said, “Tessa, take her upstairs.”

Mara’s pulse kicked. “Upstairs?”

“Tessa knows the room.”

“I thought you said don’t leave me alone.”

“I didn’t.”

She stared at him. “That’s almost worse.”

Tessa barked a quiet laugh. “She’s got you there.”

Cole’s gaze slid to her, and for one second she felt pinned in place by it. Not trapped. Just seen.

“You’re safe upstairs,” he said.

Mara almost scoffed. “Safe is starting to sound fictional.”

“Then call it less exposed.”

Tessa pushed off the wall. “Come on. I’ll show you the room.”

Mara looked at Cole one more time. “You’re not answering my questions.”

Cole’s mouth tightened faintly. “Not the useful ones.”

She hated that.

She hated more that he was right.

Tessa touched Mara’s elbow and turned her toward the back stairwell leading up from the alley side. Mara resisted just long enough to glance back.

Cole had already turned away from her and was speaking to one of the brothers again, his shoulders squared, his whole body built around the next move.

It shouldn’t have hit her so hard.

It did.

The stairwell smelled faintly of dust and old paint. Tessa led her up one flight, then another, to a narrow hallway lined with closed doors and one flickering wall light. It was quieter here, but not comforting. Quiet in a place like this meant people were only pretending to relax.

Tessa stopped at the third door on the left and opened it.

The room inside was plain. Small bed. Dresser. Chair. A single window with thick curtains pulled nearly shut. The walls were bare except for one black-and-white motorcycle print that looked older than the room itself.

Mara stepped inside slowly.

Tessa leaned against the doorframe. “Bathroom’s through there. Don’t go wandering.”

Mara looked at her. “You say that like I’m going to break into a vault.”

Tessa’s expression stayed dry. “You’d be surprised how often people do dumb things in this building.”

Mara glanced at the bed. “Is this Cole’s room?”

Tessa’s mouth twitched. “No.”

“Whose is it?”

Tessa gave her a long look. “A room.”

That was not an answer.

It was, however, the kind of answer that meant the real answer would probably only make her more uncomfortable.

Mara folded her arms. “Why are you helping me?”

Tessa blinked once, as if she hadn’t expected the question. Then she pushed away from the frame and looked at her more directly.

“Because Cole brought you in,” she said. “And because men like Derek don’t get to stroll into my clubhouse and start trouble without consequences.”

Mara studied her. “That’s not the whole reason.”

Tessa’s mouth flattened, but there was no irritation in it. Just something older and more practical.

“No,” she said. “It isn’t.”

Mara waited.

Tessa sighed. “Because if you’re telling the truth, you’re in deeper than you understand. And if you’re lying, then you’re already in enough danger to make it worth the hassle.”

Mara stared at her.

Tessa shrugged one shoulder. “That clear enough?”

No.

Not even close.

But before Mara could say so, Tessa’s phone buzzed in her hand.

She looked down at it, read the screen, and her expression shifted.

Mara noticed immediately. “What is it?”

Tessa looked up.

For the first time since Mara had met her, she did not look amused at all.

“Cole wants you downstairs,” she said. “Now.”

Mara’s stomach sank. “Why?”

Tessa was already turning toward the door.

“Because,” she said, opening it wider, “your ex just made one hell of a phone call.”