LOGIN~ Cole ~ Pain woke me up. Just a slow, dull ache spreading across my ribs like my body was reminding me I wasn’t twenty anymore. I sat at the kitchen table while Mara flipped eggs on the stove. Lily sat beside me stacking blueberries into a tower. Very serious work. “You’re moving like an old man,” Mara said without looking at me. “Rude, I'm still a bit young.” “That’s what old men say.” Lily snorted. “Mom roasted you.” “I noticed.” I shifted in the chair. Bad idea. My ribs protested immediately. Mara noticed the tiny flinch. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re hurt worse than you said.” “I’m sore.” “That’s not the same thing.” “I’m at least functioning.” “That’s not the same thing either.” Lily proudly held up a blueberry tower. “Look.” “Impressive architecture,” I said. “Thank you.” Then she casually added, “If Uncle Cole dies I get his motorcycle.” Mara froze. “Lily.” “What?” “We don’t talk like that.” “I’m planning ahead,” Lil
~ Lily ~ Mom thinks I don’t notice things. But I do. Adults act like kids live in some cartoon world where nothing serious happens. That’s not true. We just hear things differently. And sometimes we pretend not to hear them at all. This morning I woke up before everyone else. Which never happens. Usually, Uncle Cole wakes up first because he makes coffee that smells like burnt dirt. But today the house was quiet. Really quiet. I climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway. Mom’s bedroom door was open. She wasn’t inside. The couch in the living room had a blanket lump on it. Uncle Cole. Still asleep. His arm hung off the side like he had fallen asleep mid-thought. I walked closer. His eyebrow had a bandage. The one I put there. It looked slightly crooked now. I climbed onto the couch and sat next to him. He didn’t wake up. I poked his shoulder. Nothing. “Wow,” I whispered. “You’re really out.” His breathing stayed slow. H
~ Lily ~ Mom thinks I don’t notice things. But I do. Adults act like kids live in some cartoon world where nothing serious happens. That’s not true. We just hear things differently. And sometimes we pretend not to hear them at all. This morning I woke up before everyone else. Which never happens. Usually, Uncle Cole wakes up first because he makes coffee that smells like burnt dirt. But today the house was quiet. Really quiet. I climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway. Mom’s bedroom door was open. She wasn’t inside. The couch in the living room had a blanket lump on it. Uncle Cole. Still asleep. His arm hung off the side like he had fallen asleep mid-thought. I walked closer. His eyebrow had a bandage. The one I put there. It looked slightly crooked now. I climbed onto the couch and sat next to him. He didn’t wake up. I poked his shoulder. Nothing. “Wow,” I whispered. “You’re really out.” His breathing stayed slow. H
~ Mara ~ The house felt wrong. Not empty. Wrong. Like the air itself was trying to tell me something I didn't know. I sat on the couch pretending to watch the same cartoon Lily had already watched twice. She lay on the floor colouring something that looked like a dragon wearing sunglasses. Every few minutes she looked up. “Did Uncle Cole text you yet?” “No.” “Maybe he’s driving.” “Probably.” She nodded like that made sense. Kids believed the world ran on simple explanations. Adults knew better. My phone sat on the coffee table. Silent. I hated that silence. Lily colored another bright green scale on the dragon. “Mommy you're thinking again.” I blinked. “What?” “The stare.” “I’m not staring.” “You are.” I forced a small smile. “I’m just tired.” “You should take a nap.” “Parents don’t nap.” “That sounds unfair.” “It is.” She considered that. Then asked the question I knew was coming. “Are you mad at Uncle Cole?” “No.”
~ Mara ~ The house felt wrong. Not empty. Wrong. Like the air itself was trying to tell me something I didn't know. I sat on the couch pretending to watch the same cartoon Lily had already watched twice. She lay on the floor colouring something that looked like a dragon wearing sunglasses. Every few minutes she looked up. “Did Uncle Cole text you yet?” “No.” “Maybe he’s driving.” “Probably.” She nodded like that made sense. Kids believed the world ran on simple explanations. Adults knew better. My phone sat on the coffee table. Silent. I hated that silence. Lily colored another bright green scale on the dragon. “Mommy you're thinking again.” I blinked. “What?” “The stare.” “I’m not staring.” “You are.” I forced a small smile. “I’m just tired.” “You should take a nap.” “Parents don’t nap.” “That sounds unfair.” “It is.” She considered that. Then asked the question I knew was coming. “Are you mad at Uncle Cole?” “No.”
~ Cole ~ Night rides always felt different. The city looked softer in the dark. Streetlights glowing like tired stars. Traffic quieter. People hidden inside their houses pretending the world was safe. My motorcycle cut through the empty streets like a blade. Elijah had sent the warehouse location ten minutes ago. Silas’s territory. Of course. The guy never did anything subtle. My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. Mara. I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I knew exactly what she’d say. Don’t go. Let the police handle it. Please be careful. All reasonable requests. None of them possible. The warehouse district came into view. Rusty buildings. Broken lights. The kind of place where bad things happened quietly. Three motorcycles were already parked outside the old shipping building. Elijah. Jax. Ryan. Good. At least Ryan was still standing. I killed my engine and walked toward them. Ryan leaned against th
Cole After I leave her place I walked into the clubhouse already pissed off. Boots hit concrete hard, knuckles still sore, jaw tight like I was holding back a growl. The place smelled like oil, sweat, and old smoke, same as always, but tonight it felt louder. Eyes lifted. Conversations dip
Mara I slammed the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the mirror, palms braced on the sink, breath coming fast like I’d just run up three flights of stairs instead of standing ten feet away from a biker who could ruin my fucking life with a look. Goddamn it. My reflection stared back at me
Mara I slammed the bathroom door harder than I meant to and gripped the sink like it had personally offended me. My reflection looked wrecked. Not crying wrecked. Worse. Awake. Lit up in places that had been dormant for too long. My pulse was still kicking hard in my throat, my skin buzzing
Mara I knew i felt out of place when i walked in. the room and the noise, made me feel out of place. It pressed in closer, heavier, like I’d stepped into a space that already knew me. Conversations didn’t stop, but they dipped. Glances slid my way and didn’t slide back fast enough. I felt i







