ANMELDENSableBy the time Brian and I stepped back inside, the celebration had somehow gotten louder.I hadn’t thought that was possible.Music rolled through the clubhouse, loud enough to vibrate faintly beneath my boots. Brothers from different chapters crowded around tables covered in food, drinks, and whatever dangerous-looking thing Hannah had decided counted as barbecue.Someone near the pool table was already telling a story with too many hand gestures, and Bryce looked like he was one exaggerated movement away from having beer spilled down the front of his cut.Normal chaos.Beautiful chaos.My chaos now.I still had my patch in my hand because I couldn’t bring myself to put it down. Every few minutes, my thumb moved over the stitching like I needed to keep checking that it was real. Black thread. White letters. Leather that felt warmer than it should have from the way I’d
SableThe patch stayed in my hand long after church ended.People kept hugging me. Congratulating me. Shaking my hand. Clapping me on the shoulder.At one point Hannah cried on me so hard she nearly smeared mascara onto my cut, and Charlie laughed so hard she almost cried too.The clubhouse buzzed with celebration around me.Music.Laughter.Brothers talking too loud.The smell of barbecue drifting in through the open doors.Life.For the first time in a long time, life.And yet somehow I found myself slipping outside.Not because I was upset.Not because I needed space.Just because everything felt so big that I needed a minute to sit with it.The afternoon sun had started dipping lower, painting the rows of motorcycles in gold. The gravel lot was still packed with bikes from visiting chapters.Men stood in little groups talking and la
SableThe word landed in my chest like a drumbeat.Nixx and Smitty moved first, stepping forward from near the bar.I joined them with Marcus behind me, and for one brief second, the three of us exchanged looks that said everything none of us would dare say out loud in front of a room full of bikers.Smitty looked like he might pass out or cry. Possibly both. Nixx looked calmer, but his jaw was tight, and I could tell he was holding emotion back with both hands.Three prospects.Three different stories.Three people who had come into the Black Daggers at the same time and somehow ended up standing shoulder to shoulder at the finish line.Jarek let the silence stretch until every whisper died. Then he looked at Nixx.“Roy Nixxon.”Nixx stepped forward, spine straight, hands at his sides.Jarek held the first patch in his hand but didn’t give
SableThe day had finally come.We’d enjoyed our time in the mountains, and when we got home yesterday, Jarek had immediately gone into extreme work mode. Phone calls. Lists. Text messages. Brothers arriving from other chapters. Hannah threatening bodily harm over catering. Marcus teasing him nonstop while Daddy pretended not to enjoy every second of planning something that mattered.And somehow, after all the anticipation, after everything that had happened, today had arrived.Now, I stood upstairs in our newly renovated room, staring at myself in the mirror and trying to convince my lungs to work like they hadn’t forgotten their only job.I didn’t look different.Not really.
SableRain woke me before anything else.Not hard rain, and not the kind that made the mountains feel gloomy or cold. This was softer than that, a steady whisper against the cabin windows that wrapped the whole place in gray light and made the room feel tucked away from the rest of the world. Somewhere outside, wind moved through the pines, and every now and then a branch scraped gently across the roof, quiet enough to be comforting instead of eerie.I stayed exactly where I was.Marcus had somehow migrated halfway across my body during the night, one arm wrapped around my waist and his face buried against my shoulder like I was personally responsible for keeping him alive.His hair tickled my neck every time he breathed, and judging by the way he kept twitching in his sleep, I was fairly certain he was dreaming about something ridiculous. Probably motorcycles. Possibly pancakes. Maybe motorcycles made of pancak
SableI was still laughing when they dragged me upstairs.Not nervous laughter. Not the kind that came from fear. This was the bright, reckless kind that only happened when I knew I was safe and about to get exactly what I’d asked for.My wrists were still a little sore from the silk in the best way, and my body was buzzing from the chase, from outsmarting them, from the way Jarek’s eyes must have gone dark the second he realized I’d doubled back to the cabin.Marcus dropped me onto the bed like I weighed nothing. Jarek was right behind him, already pulling the long strips of red silk from the bag.I grinned up at them, breathless. “You’re both really mad about the hostage thing, huh?”Marcus crawled over me, caging me in with his arms. “You pointed a knife at my throat, baby doll.”Jarek tied my wrists to the headboard with quick, efficient movements.







