The biker's ex returns

The room was small. Clean. A bed, a dresser, bars on the window.

A prison with decent furniture.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my shaking hands. Derek's blood was still on my sleeve. Colt's words echoed in my head.

You do not get to make choices anymore.

The door opened. I expected guards. Instead, an older woman walked in carrying a first aid kit. She had gray hair pulled back tight and eyes that had seen too much.

"I am Mae," she said. "The club mom. Let me see your ribs."

"I am fine."

"That was not a request, honey." She sat beside me, opening the kit. "Lift your shirt."

I did. The bruises were worse now-purple and black, spreading across my left side like poison.

Mae's jaw tightened. "That man did this?"

"Derek. Yes."

"Colt should have killed him." Her hands were surprisingly gentle as she examined me. "Nothing broken, but you will hurt for a while. You need ice and rest."

"What will they do to Derek?"

"Does it matter?" She met my eyes. "He hurt you. In this world, that is a death sentence."

My stomach twisted. "I do not want anyone to die because of me."

"Too late for that." Mae started wrapping my ribs. "The second you walked back into Colt Richardson's life, people were going to bleed. The question is, whose blood do you want spilled? Your abuser's or your protector's?"

"Colt is not my protector. He hates me."

Mae laughed. It was not kind. "Honey, if he hated you, you would be dead already. Or thrown out on your ass." She finished wrapping and packed up the kit. "That boy loved you more than life itself. You broke him. And now you are back, and he does not know whether to save you or destroy you."

"I never wanted to hurt him."

"But you did." Mae stood, heading for the door. "Now you have to live with it. Same as he does."

She left, locking the door behind her.

I lay back on the bed, every breath hurting. Outside, I heard engines. Voices. The club is going back to normal.

But nothing was normal anymore.

Hours passed. Maybe days. I could not tell. No clock. No phone-Razor had taken it.

The door opened again around what I thought was midnight.

Colt.

He looked different. Cleaned up. Fresh clothes. But his knuckles were wrapped, blood seeping through.

"Get up," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I said so." He waited, and when I did not move, he crossed the room and hauled me to my feet. "You want answers? You want to know what happens next? Then move."

He dragged me downstairs, through the empty clubhouse, and out a back door I had not seen before. We walked in silence toward a building at the edge of the compound.

The warehouse.

My blood turned cold. "Colt, what are we doing here?"

"You are going to see what happens to men who touch what is mine." He pulled open the door. "After tonight, you will understand exactly what world you walked back into."

The inside was concrete and shadows. A single light hung from the ceiling, illuminating Derek.

He was tied to a chair. Face swollen. Blood everywhere. But alive.

Barely.

"Jenna." His voice was a croak. "Help me. Please."

I tried to pull away from Colt. He held me firm.

"Look at him," Colt said. "Really look."

"I do not want to-"

"Look." His voice was iron. "This is the man you defended. The man you tried to save."

Derek's eyes found mine. "Baby, please. Tell them to let me go. We can disappear. Start over. I will never hurt you again, I swear-"

"Like you swore the last ten times?" Colt walked forward, circling Derek like a predator. "How many times did you hit her? How many times did she beg you to stop?"

Derek's mouth opened. Closed.

"Answer me." Colt's fist slammed into the chair beside Derek's head. "How. Many. Times."

"I lost count." Derek's voice broke. "But she always came back. She always forgave me. Because she loves me."

I wanted to vomit.

"She does not love you." Colt leaned in close. "She is terrified of you. There is a difference."

"You do not know her like I do." Derek laughed, wet and broken. "You think you can save her? You think she will stay with you? She is weak. Broken. She needs someone to tell her what to do. What to think. That is why she came to me in the first place.

"Is that true?" Colt turned to me. "Is that why you left? Because you are weak?"

"I-" My voice failed.

"Answer the question, Jenna."

"I left because I was scared!" The words exploded out. "My father threatened to kill you. To burn down your family's garage with your mother inside. He showed me pictures. Plans. He said if I did not disappear, everyone I loved would die."

Colt went very still. "What?"

"He had it all planned out." Tears streamed down my face. "The fire. The accident. How he would make it look natural. So I ran. I ran because I thought if I was gone, you would be safe."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"I was eighteen! I was alone! My mother was dead, and my father was a monster, and I did not know what to do!" I was sobbing now. "So I ran. I ran until I met Derek, and he seemed nice, and I was so tired of being alone that I did not see what he was until it was too late."

Silence.

Then Colt moved.

He crossed to me, his hands framing my face, forcing me to look at him.

"Your father is dead," he said quietly. "Whatever threats he made, whatever plans he had-they died with him. You understand? You have been running from a ghost."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Five years. I ran for five more years after my father died, and I did not even know he was gone.

"But Derek-"

"Derek is going to pay for every bruise. Every tear. Every sleepless night." Colt's thumb traced my cheek. "And then you are going to stop running. Because you are home now. Whether you want to be or not."

"Colt, please-"

A gunshot shattered the air.

I screamed, spinning around.

Razor stood in the doorway, gun smoking, his face grim.

But Derek was still alive. Still breathing.

The bullet had gone into the wall six inches from his head.

"Boss," Razor said. "We have a problem. The Serpents just rolled up to our gate. Twenty bikes. Fully armed."

Colt's expression went cold. "The Serpents? What do they want?"

"They are asking for Jenna." Razor's eyes found mine. "By name. They say she belongs to them now."

My heart stopped.

"What are you talking about?" Colt demanded. "She has nothing to do with the Serpents."

"Actually," Derek wheezed from his chair, blood bubbling on his lips, "she does." He smiled through broken teeth. "You think I worked alone? You think I did not have insurance?" He laughed. "I sold her, Richardson. Two days ago. The Serpents paid fifty grand for her. She is their property now. Legally and otherwise."

The room spun.

"You did what?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"I sold you, baby." Derek's smile widened. "And they have come to collect."

Colt's gun was in his hand before I could blink, pressed against Derek's forehead.

"You are lying."

"Am I?" Derek's eyes gleamed with madness. "Go check. They have the contract. Your signature, Jenna. I forged it real nice."

Razor's radio crackled. "Boss, they are getting impatient. What do you want us to do?"

Colt lowered his gun slowly. Look at me. And I saw something in his face I had never seen before.

Fear.

"Lock down the compound," he said. "Full alert. Nobody in or out." He grabbed my arm. "You are staying with me. Close. Understand?"

"Colt, what does he mean? What are the Serpents?"

His jaw clenched. "They are the most dangerous MC in three states. They deal in guns, drugs, and trafficking." He met my eyes. "And if they think you belong to them, they will burn this place to the ground to get you."

Outside, engines roared.

And I realized my nightmare was just beginning.