Layla’s POV
The yard was empty, just the smell of wet ash, spilled beer, and the sharp, clean scent of the night air. Everyone had peeled off, to their bikes, to their beds, to their own corners of the clubhouse.
I was looking for Chloe. My friend had been tipsy and laughing hours ago, hanging off Grizz’s arm, and then they’d both just vanished. Not unusual for her, especially not with Grizz. But I wanted to make sure she hadn’t passed out in a lawn chair or something. I’d already checked the main common room—just a couple of old-timers snoring in front of a static-filled TV—and the kitchen.
I headed down the narrower hallway towards the old storage rooms some of the guys used when they stayed over. The floors here were bare concrete, the walls unpainted drywall. Light came from single
