Alyssa
"You ready?" Ashley asks as we pull into the clubhouse lot.
Morning slices across chrome—King's, Niko's, and Mason's bikes parked in perfect formation, metal flashing like teeth. The air is crisp, a raw mix of exhaust and wet leaves that smells like trouble waiting to happen.
Of course, Gray's bike is nowhere in sight. He's probably off handling whatever chaos couldn't wait until nightfall.
Typical.
That means Ashley won't get the confrontation she came for.
Fine. I'll chew my men out solo.
My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles go white. If what Ashley told me is true—if there really is a trafficking ring in our town—keeping it from me wasn't protection.
It was betrayal. Plain and simple.
Did they honestly think I couldn't handle it? That pretending I was fr
