Chapter Nineteen
The hardest part of planning an escape was not finding a way through the heavy iron gates of the compound. It was resisting the man who held the key.
In the days following the chapel meeting, the atmosphere in the clubhouse settled into a quiet, watchful peace. Roxy and Big Tom were gone, and the younger members of the club treated me with a new, silent respect. They saw me as Jake's personal charge—the woman the Vice President had almost burned the club down to protect. But to me, that respect felt like a heavier set of chains. Every time Jake looked at me with those intense, smoky gray eyes, my heart did a wild, dangerous spin. Every time his large, warm hand brushed against my waist, my body wanted to melt against his chest. It was terrifying. I was a civilian, a col
