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The weight of his promise settles over me like armor. I hug him again, tighter this time. “I’m sorry I brought this to your door.”

“Don’t.” He pulls back, smirking faintly.

We leave the chapel together. The common room is subdued. Word has spread. Prospects give me wider berth than I was already getting. Club bunnies whisper. But a few of the older members nod at me with respect. Small wins in a sea of shit. Corbin falls into step beside me as Lennox heads off to talk to Judge. His hand brushes the small of my back, guiding me toward the stairs to my room. The touch is light but possessive. Protective. “So, just a family friend? Or is it more than that?” I let the silence fill the space between us as I keep walking.

“Talk to me,” he says once we’re in the hallway, voice low. “How bad is this really?” I stop outside my door, turning to face him. He crowds me gently against the frame with one arm braced above my head. That familiar heat flares between us, cutting through the fear.

“On a scale of one to completely fucked? You’re probably taking it raw soon,” I admit, trying for my usual sass. “Nicholas is obsessive. Charming when he wants to be, but vicious when crossed. He’ll see this as the ultimate betrayal—not just leaving, but destroying everything we built. He’ll come for me personally. And he won’t care who gets hurt in the process.”

Corbin’s jaw clenches. His free hand comes up, fingers tracing the fading bruise along my jaw with surprising gentleness before pulling back as if he’s been burned. “He touches you again, he dies. Slowly. Lennox is adamant about that.” The promise in his words mixed with Lennox’s name feels like I’ve been doused in cold water.

“There’s nothing between Lennox and me. We are family friends.”

His eyes darken, dropping to my mouth. “Good. It better stay that way, Prospect. I might care more than I should. You’re under my skin. Been there since you walked into that officer meeting swinging your attitude and that smart mouth.”

I smile despite the threat hanging over us. “Careful. I’m off-limits, remember?”

He leans in closer, forehead almost touching mine. The air between us crackles. For a second, I think he’ll kiss me—finally close that torturous gap. Instead, he pulls back with a low curse, raking a hand through his short blonde hair. “Get some rest. I’ll be outside your door at dawn. We’re tightening your training. You need to be ready.”

Fuck, no. This is not happening again. He doesn’t get to keep torturing me.

Reaching up, I thread my fingers into his hair. It’s softer than it looks. I pull him to me, not allowing anymore distance between us. My lips collide with his, brief but passionate. I quickly release him and open the door behind me. He deserves to feel tortured this time. Our eyes meet with matching heat before I slip inside my room. The door clicks shut, keeping me from doing something stupid like drag him in with me. I sag against it, heart racing from more than just the letter.

Nicholas knows, and we need to figure out how. Checking the security footage of both compounds again, I don’t find anything out of place. Lennox vowed protection. Corbin is watching me like I’m already his to guard. For the first time since I ran, I don’t feel completely alone.

I cross to the window, peering out at the compound. The gate is reinforced. Patrols are already moving. My bike sits parked; the beacon of the freedom I fought so hard for. I won’t let Nicholas take this from me. Not the club. Not the home I’m finally back in, or the slice of peace I’m carving out for myself. Not the way Corbin makes me feel alive again. Tomorrow, we prepare. But tonight, as I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling, dread curls in my gut alongside something warmer—hope.

We’ll be ready. We have to be.

CORBIN

The letter consumes me, its venomous words detonating like a grenade inside my brain. This is the aftermath—shrapnel tearing through every rational thought, leaving nothing but chaos and raw possessive need. Nicholas knows Tatum is here. The threat wasn’t some hollow warning. It was intimate, sadistic, and aimed straight for the throat.

I wipe sweat from my brow for the third time as I watch her across the gym. She’s working on footwork drills with Mason and Thomas, her body moving with lethal grace despite the exhaustion weighing on her. The tight training gear hugs every curve—those toned legs, the flare of her hips, the perfect swell of her ass that I want to grip hard enough to leave bruises while I bend her over and fuck her until she forgets her own name.

She’s under my skin, burrowed so deep I can’t carve her out. Her past is dragging the whole club into hellfire, but all I can think about is claiming her, marking her, ruining her for anyone else—especially that piece of shit Nicholas. I’ve barely slept in over a week. Every time my eyes close, I see her perched on that chapel table, legs wide, pussy dripping as she came on my fingers. I lost it in my pants like a damn virgin who saw pussy for the first time, and the fact she made it happen only fuels my obsession. I’m supposed to be her mentor, her protector. Instead, I’m the man who jerks off to the memory of her moans every night, imagining her on her knees with my cock between those smart lips, choking on me while tears of effort streak down her face.

The gym door opens. Lennox strides in, and the energy shifts instantly. He signals without a word. “Switch. Fuse. Outside. Now.” Fuse falls in beside me as we follow Lennox out behind the gym. The morning air is crisp, carrying pine and distant exhaust. Lennox stops near the tree line, arms crossed, face carved from stone, as he scans the area to make sure there is no one else.

“We need to talk about Tatum,” he says quietly, glancing back to ensure we’re alone. “That letter changes everything. Nicholas isn’t bluffing. He’ll come for her, and he’ll come for us. What are we doing to keep her safe while she’s still prospecting?”

Fuse shifts his weight, knuckles taped from earlier drills. “She’s solid on basics. Time to break her down and rebuild. Full contact, ground game, scenarios. Make it brutal. It’s about that time in the schedule, anyway, so none of the guys would be any wiser—week three is when we break them down and build them back up. If war is coming, they all need to be prepared for what could happen.”

I nod, keeping my voice steady despite the storm in my chest. “Fuse is right. Double down on hand-to-hand. She’s got the instincts. We refine them until they’re automatic. And we add weapons training. Basic firearms, knife work, disarms. She already knows more than she lets on from Redline. Might as well use it. Make sure she’s someone who can handle herself if anyone shows up.”

Lennox studies me for a long beat, eyes sharp. “Good. Let’s make that happen then, starting today. She stays on compound grounds. No leaving without an escort. At least three patched members on any ride. Switch, you’re still primary. Keep her close.”

“Understood.” I nod my head.

Fuse claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll start setting up the range this afternoon for tomorrow after hand-to-hand. She’s got that mouth on her, but she listens when it counts.” He heads back inside, leaving Lennox and me alone.

Lennox turns to me, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “She’s important to me, Corbin. I vouched for her. If you cross any lines while she’s prospecting—or ever—I’ll kill you myself. Slowly. Brother or not. Clear?”

Memories slam into me: her arching back, the slick heat of her cunt clenching around my fingers, the stunned pleasure on her face when I came untouched. I want to bend her over every surface in this compound, fuck her raw, fill her until she’s dripping my cum and begging for more. I match his stare. “Clear.”

“Good. She’s got enough ghosts. She doesn’t need another one.” He leaves, and I roughly drag a hand down my face. He’s right. She’s off-limits. Yet every cell in my body screams to drag her into the shadows, rip those tight pants down, and bury my face between her thighs until she screams my name. To own her completely.

Fuck.