Gracie's lunch with Rich passed in comfortable silence, safely surrounded by customers in the bar. Surprised to have consumed almost the whole hamburger and half her fries, She wiped her mouth off with the napkin. Most of the last fifteen minutes were spent rejoicing in the fact he'd shared a part of himself by pointing out the members of Notus in the Little League picture.

He'd connected with the others.

He'd connected with his past.

Most of all, she was able to share that connection with him by bringing him to the bar. It was one of the first good things she'd done since living with Rich.

She'd have to show Clara the picture the next time they were at the bar together. Over four years of owning the bar, dusting the pictures on cleaning day, neither one of them had noticed the bikers as children in the picture. None of the members of the club had ever talked about being on the Vavoom's baseball team together as children, either.

She couldn't wait to tell Wayne that she got the information —no matter how insignificant it was to her finding out why Rich had left St. John's.

Rich gazed around the room, already finished with his meal. Gracie set her napkin on her plate and scooted out of the booth. "I'm going to carry the dishes to the kitchen, so Maureen doesn't have to, and then we can go."

"I'm going to take a piss." He stood.

She motioned her chin to the back of the room. "Go ahead and use the employees' private bathroom at the end of the hallway, and I'll meet you at the back door."

As soon as Rich walked out of sight, Maureen hurried over to her. Caught unprepared for the rush of excitement coming from her employee and friend, she stumbled to keep her balance as Maureen danced in front of her and whispered, "New boyfriend? You didn't say a thing. Is that why you've been away from the bar? Tell me everything? Is he good to you? What's he do for a living? Where did you meet him? Are you in love?"

Apparently, Clara hadn't informed everyone what was happening with Notus Motorcycle Club with the return of Rich.

Gracie laughed, shaking her head. "Slow your roll, girl."

"I can't. This is so exciting." Maureen covered her cheeks with her hands. "Tell me everything."

"Rich is a house guest. He's a friend of Notus Motorcycle Club. I'm only the host while he's here." Gracie snorted at Maureen's pout. "I'll be back at the bar like normal once he finds another place to stay."

More than likely, Rich would leave town, breaking every heart of the men who belonged to Notus.

"Are you leaving, girly?" called Peyton.

Gracie turned around and peeked her head in the kitchen. "I am."

"How are you doing?" Peyton raised his brows and silently questioned her. "Good?"

"I'm good." She smiled, knowing Peyton worried about her. He'd been at the scene of her abduction and had patiently supported her ever since. "I'll be in soon. Make sure you call Clara or me if you need anything."

Peyton lifted his spatula. "Always will."

She looked for Maureen, but the waitress had already gone back to work. Gracie walked down the hallway and stood by the back door. Rich hadn't returned from the bathroom yet, and she looked around the small area, moving a box closer to the wall. At closing, the employees didn't need anything in their path to trip them on their way out the door.

A few minutes later, Rich still hadn't come out of the bathroom. Not wanting to go knock and see if he was okay, she tapped her foot and looked at the door. The knob was unlocked. Positive she'd locked it on their way in, she opened the door and found Rich standing by his motorcycle. He'd gone outside without waiting for her.

Using her foot to brace the door, she turned the security mechanism and stepped outside, pulling the handle toward her. Locked.

Holding onto the purse at her side, she walked over to Rich. "I thought you were going to stay inside and wait for me."

He grunted and sat on his bike, handing her the helmet and putting on his own. She made quick work of latching the D-ring and climbed onto the seat. Since he'd planned to go for a longer ride than a few blocks, she held on to his belt and relaxed to enjoy the ride.

But, instead of taking her through St. John's or riding over the bridge and hitting Highway 30 to hit the open road, Rich rode straight back to the house. In the driveway, she slid off the motorcycle and was surprised that Rich shut off the Harley and toed the kickstand. He was coming back into the house.

"I'm going to fiddle with my bike, and then I'll come in." Rich turned his back to her and bent over the engine.

Disappointment swept through her. She stared at his ass and pursed her lips. She'd enjoyed getting out and having lunch with him. There was a comfort that came with being with a big, strong man that gave her a sense of security to be around others, even in her own bar.

Turning away, she walked up to the door and stopped. There were marks on her door. Coldness flashed through her body despite the sunshine.

She looked up at the camera hidden under the eave of the roof wondering why someone from Notus hadn't called to let her know someone had tried to break into her house.

She needed to tell Rich, but her feet wouldn't move.

The wood between the door handle and the doorframe was scarred with grooves, and the paint chipped off. Her chest constricted. Had someone made it into her house?

She slid her hand into her purse and wrapped her fingers around the butt of the pistol.

A hand landed on her back. She pulled her hand free and raised the pistol, facing Rich. Her fear only accelerated.

He placed his hand around hers and lowered her arm and the weapon. "Gracie?"

"The door." She panted through her open mouth. "Someone tried to break into my house."

His gaze left her, and he frowned. "We're going to walk over to my motorcycle, and I'm going to take you over to Wayne's house."

He slowly let go of her, despite the urgency of the situation. When she lowered her hand holding the pistol to her side, he guided her back to the driveway. At the bike, he took her helmet from her and latched the strap while gazing everywhere but at her. Her legs shook. If she'd been alone, what would she have done?

"Who did that?" Her chin trembled.

"I'll find out." He took her pistol from her hand and slipped the weapon into her purse. "You need to hold on to me."

"O-okay." She nodded. "I need to breathe."

"Yeah, honey. Keep breathing. I'll have you safe at Wayne's house in five minutes."

Her fear that someone was around every corner and in every shadow haunted her every single day. How she managed to get clear in front of her door before noticing anything wrong scared her. She should've been more attentive.

Situated behind Rich on the motorcycle, he patted her lower leg and then pulled out of the driveway. Her heart pounded, suddenly feeling vulnerable when twenty minutes ago, she'd felt secure riding with Rich. Cars were bigger, and as she knew, could cause accidents. On the Harley, cars could cause her death. Rich's death.

Rich's hand landed on her leg again and patted. Her arms went around his waist, and she made herself smaller against him. He was a biker. He was a member of Notus. The other men loved him. She clung because being alone was scarier than being with him.

Her sister and Wayne's house appeared in front of her. Rich unclasped her hands from around his waist, and she slid off the bike and ran toward the front door. Not waiting for her sister, she tried the handle and found it locked.

She banged on the door. "Clara?"

A burst of adrenaline burst out of her, and she shook the door handle, desperate to get inside.

The door opened, and Clara reached for her. She launched herself into her sister's embrace.

Clara squeezed her. "What's wrong?"

"Someone." She gasped. "Tried to—"

"Someone tried to break into her house," said Rich. "I brought her here until I can make sure her place is safe. Where can I look at the recordings from the cameras at her house."

"Uh, in the garage. I'll call Wayne. He's at Thad's house." Clara moved Gracie into the house.

"Don't bother," said Rich.

"Shit," mumbled Clara pulling away from Gracie without letting her go. "Sit down, sis. I need to call Wayne before he hears this from someone else and flips."

She sat down on the couch and grabbed the folded blanket draped over the back and hugged it to her stomach. No longer able to convince herself that it was safe to be around Rich, she shook.

This wasn't supposed to happen to her again. The man who killed her mother and attempted to kill her was dead. A serial killer dead at the hands of Notus Motorcycle Club. That act of justice permanently instilled trust in each of the members.

But, Wayne, Thad, Glen, and Chuck had put Rich in her house, and she was in danger, again.

Whether the threat came from Rich or a stranger, she had no idea.