003 First Tension

Ashley woke to the faint thrum of engines outside the barred window. For a moment she thought she’d dreamed of the desert highway, the gunfire, the bikers. But the cot beneath her was stiff, the room still smelled of dust and oil, and her stomach was knotted tight. Reality pressed down on her.

She pushed herself up, wincing as her neck protested from sleeping at a bad angle. Morning sunlight leaked through the slats, cutting the room into sharp stripes of gold and shadow. She brushed her hair out of her face, tried to gather herself, and failed.

Her reflection in the dresser’s mirror was pale and wide-eyed. She looked like someone else entirely—a woman who’d fallen into the wrong story.

A loud bang made her jump. The sound of boots and laughter drifted down the hall. The Vipers were awake.

Ashley opened the door cautiously. Voices and the smell of coffee pulled her toward the main room. The clubhouse felt different in daylight—less like a den of predators, more like a place where men lived. A radio murmured low from the bar, country song mingling with the clatter of dishes.

Ace was the first to notice her. He was perched on a stool at the bar, one boot hooked on the rung, a steaming mug in his hand. His blond hair was damp, like he’d already showered. He gave her a slow, lazy grin that looked almost innocent—until you saw the sharpness behind his blue eyes.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Sleeping Beauty wakes.”

Ashley stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”

“What, you prefer Snow White?” He gestured broadly. “Cinderella? Pick your poison, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart either.” She crossed her arms, hoping it would hide the tremor in her hands.

Ace’s grin widened, like a cat finding a cornered mouse. “Feisty. Good. I was worried you’d be boring.”

She glared. “You saved me last night. That doesn’t give you the right to—”

“To what? Tease you a little?” Ace sipped his coffee. “Relax. We don’t bite.”

From the couch, Jax’s voice cut in. “Speak for yourself.”

Ashley turned and found him slouched there, long legs stretched out, tattoos curling up his forearms. His dark eyes tracked her like a hawk’s, unblinking, and quiet. He didn’t smirk like Ace or fidget like Cole. He just… watched. It was unnerving, as if he were noting her every twitch and word for later.

She forced herself to look away first.

Cole came in from the back door, sunlight catching his messy brown hair. He carried a box of supplies and set it on the bar with a grin that actually reached his eyes. “Morning,” he said, his voice warm and gentle. “Hope you slept okay. Nolan said you might need food—there’s cereal or I can make eggs.”

The normal kindness in his tone was such a stark contrast to the night before that Ashley’s throat tightened. “Thanks,” she managed.

Ace groaned theatrically. “Cole, you’re gonna spoil her. Next you’ll be offering her your bunk.”

Cole flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just being decent.”

“Decent gets people hurt,” Jax said quietly.

Ashley’s head snapped toward him. “So what, I’m supposed to grovel? Hide in that little room and pretend none of this happened?”

Jax tilted his head, still calm. “You’re supposed to survive. Big difference.”

Ace tapped his mug on the counter, the sound sharp in the silence. “He’s not wrong. You walked into a war, princess. The Iron Fangs don’t forget faces. And neither do we.”

Her pulse jumped. “I didn’t walk into anything. My car broke down.”

“That highway has eaten plenty of people,” Ace said with a shrug. “You’re lucky we showed up.”

“Lucky,” she echoed bitterly. “Right. Because being trapped with four armed bikers is the kind of luck every girl dreams about.”

Cole’s grin faltered, but his gaze stayed gentle. “It’s not like that. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Ashley studied him for a long moment. His open friendliness was almost disarming—too earnest for a world like this. And the way he kept sneaking glances at her, quickly looking away when their eyes met, sent a small, complicated pang through her chest. Was that… a crush?

Ace caught the look and smirked knowingly. “Careful, Cole. She’s got claws.”

Cole’s ears turned red. “Shut up.”

Jax stood finally, unfolding his tall frame with unhurried grace. The leather cut he wore creaked as he moved. “Nolan wants a word when he’s back,” he said to Ace, then flicked a glance at Ashley. “Until then, keep her out of sight.”

The weight of his gaze lingered, dark and unreadable, before he walked out the back door.

Ashley let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Ace hopped off the stool, swagger in every step, and sauntered toward the couch.

“You’re fun when you’re mad,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Stick around long enough, you might even start to like us.”

Ashley watched him go, her heart pounding in a confusing mix of anger and fear.

Cole’s voice broke the silence. “Don’t let him get under your skin. Ace lives for this kind of game.”

She forced a shaky smile. “I’m starting to figure that out.”

Cole ducked his head, smiling shyly. “If you need anything… I’m around.”

She drifted toward the bar, drawn by the smell of coffee. The mug Cole slid toward her was chipped but warm. As she wrapped her hands around it, the heat steadied her nerves just enough to notice the little details… the way Ace’s jacket hung carelessly over a chair, the scuffed floorboards, the old photographs nailed to the walls—brothers-in-arms standing beside roaring bikes under sunsets. For a moment, the clubhouse didn’t seem like a prison. It seemed like a world she’d never known existed.

A noise outside made the hairs on her arms rise. The thrum of engines, but heavier this time. She moved to the window and peered out, catching a glimpse of dust curling up from the road. The Iron Fangs? No… the sound was too familiar now. The Vipers. Maybe Nolan.

Cole followed her gaze. His jaw tightened just slightly, like he knew whatever came next wasn’t going to be simple. “That’ll be him,” he murmured.

Ashley’s heart sped up. She wasn’t sure if it was fear, relief, or something in between. The mood in the clubhouse grew tense and expectant. Nolan was back—and now the real questions would begin.