Sydney slammed the dresser drawer closed and moved to the bed. Lifting the mattress off the box springs, she peered underneath. The way cell phones were passed around the clubhouse, there had to be one hidden somewhere.

She let the mattress go and straightened the covers. Every spare moment she had alone, she'd look for a way to contact Kylie. Unlike foster homes, the Brikken clubhouse had no landline, and the members held on to their phone as if it provided oxygen for them to breathe. Even Jett kept his beside the bed at night and for extra security, kept his arms around her. She couldn't take too big of breath, or she'd wake him up.

She'd tested him.

He always woke up.

Grabbing the helmet and the sunglasses, she left the room. Believing everyone was outside at the gathering, she almost ran into a couple clenched together on the stairs.

Careening toward the wall, she grabbed the railing and caught herself before she stumbled on the steps.

"Whoa." A hand clamped around her arm. "Are you okay?"

She raised her gaze and found Olin hovering above her. "I’m fine."

The woman beside him studied her curiously, unashamed of her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and messed up hair. Unfamiliar with her and scared of Jett, Sydney lowered herself to the next step.

"Where's Jett?" asked Olin, stopping her exit.

"Outside." She held up the helmet in her hands. "We're going on a ride."

Olin dipped his chin, dismissing her. She hurried away, glad to get away from Jett's younger brother. He could be a nice guy, but his looks were scary frightening. She had no interest getting to know him better.

She pushed out the door and walked to the long line of black motorcycles, spotting Jett already sitting on the seat. By the time she reached him, she'd put on the helmet and the sunglasses.

He crooked his finger, and she slid on the bike behind him. It'd been a long time since he allowed her outside the boundaries of the fence. Adrenaline pumped through her, giving hope to a chance to get away from him. Desperate to see Kylie, she would jump off the motorcycle at full speed if needed.

Jett started the motorcycle, and the gate opened for him. She hugged his body, exhilarated when he turned right and followed the road to Tacoma. He could go anywhere inside the city limits, and she'd be able to make her way to the Mathew's house in Northeast Tacoma.

Jett wouldn't think to look for her in the Indian Hill area if she got away from him. The rocky terrain and hillside provided privacy to the houses of the privileged—mostly doctors and lawyers.

By the time, Jett passed Cheney stadium and headed toward Narrows bridge, she started to worry that he planned to take her out of Tacoma. Without any money on her, she wouldn't be able to go anywhere and would be stuck having to go back to the clubhouse with him.

He pulled through the cross street, not going the way of paying a toll for the bridge. Her outlook escalated. He stayed in Tacoma.

Winding through the streets, he rode past Chihuly and stopped his motorcycle on an overpass. Cars whizzed by, and he turned his head. "Are you okay riding in traffic?"

She nodded.

He cut into the flow of cars. Until he asked about her ease of riding, the vehicles never bothered her. Now they seemed too close, too fast, too big. There was no way she could jump off the motorcycle while it was going and survive.

Twenty minutes later, he left Tacoma and then took a gravel road. She dipped her chin and yawned behind his back as he pulled to a stop in front of a single-story house. The toll of the emotional ups and downs sinking low again exhausted her.

He shut off the engine. "Hop off."

She slid off the motorcycle, and he motioned her to take off the helmet. Looking away from him, she gazed at the overgrown grass in the yard. There were no cars parked in front of the garage and no curtains on the windows of the house.

Because of the different roads Jett traveled on and being outside the city limits, she had no idea where he'd taken her.

He slid his fingers into her hand and led her toward the house. At the door, he took out a key and let himself in. She stayed behind him.

The room they'd walked into had no furniture. No pictures on the walls. No sign of life.

He let go of her hand and walked out of the room. "You can sit at the table."

She followed his voice and quickly could see the kitchen and dining room, practically open to the living room. Surprised to find a narrow table and two chairs, she sat, keeping an eye on Jett as he moved around the kitchen island and opened the fridge. When he turned to come back to her, she sat up straighter.

Jett handed her a bottle of water and sat down, opening his drink. She broke the cap and drank, surprised at how thirsty she'd been.

An awkward silence filled the barren house. It wasn't the same house he'd brought her to the first night they'd met. She wished it had been Olin's place. She'd escaped there once.

Curiosity about why they were here and who owned the house wasn't enough for her to break her silence toward Jett. Her refusal to instigate any talk came from something deeper than resentment toward him for keeping her. She hoped that he'd give up on her.

Everyone always gave up.

Her mother gave her and Kylie to their father, who gave them to his mother—their grandma. Eventually, her grandma signed them over to Children's Protective Service. She was told it was because her grandma was too old to take care of them, but nobody had to tell her it was because everyone had given up on her.

She would not give up on Kylie.

Nothing would make her leave her sister. She no longer wondered why her mom hadn't wanted them or why their father skipped out of their life. They were too young to understand, and now they were too old to care.

"I grew up here." Jett stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. "Chief kept the house after he got together with Johanna, and she lived here until he built the house on the Brikken property."

He leaned back in the chair and exhaled. She watched him curiously. He'd let himself relax here. She had a hard time understanding how a house could make someone feel comfortable.

But, she wasn't going to ask him to explain more. When it was only him and her, she found it almost impossible not to involve herself in what he was thinking, talking about, or doing.

"I bought this place from Chief right before I met you." He lowered his gaze to her chest.

Her heart raced as if she'd ran a mile. It always happened when he focused on her. Being alone with him, she had nothing else to concentrate on, but him. At the club, she more times than not had Jackie and Stassi to keep herself busy or she picked up a broom and swept the floor. At night when she was forced to be with him, she feigned sleep.

"Olin bought another house Chief owned. Thorn seems content at the clubhouse." He rolled his head on the couch cushion and gazed up at the ceiling. "I've been thinking it's time to move in here."

Afraid to breathe, she waited for him to elaborate. She had no idea what that meant for her. Would he leave her at the club at the mercy of the other members? Would he let her go? Would he make her move here with him?

"Damnit, Syd," he whispered. "I wish you'd talk to me."

She looked away from him.

"Gave you time." He exhaled in frustration. "Time that I don't have."

She startled. What did he mean? Was he done hoping she'd want to be with him? Was he giving up?

"I have a run I need to go on in two weeks. I'll be gone overnight, and I'd like to be living here at the house with you and not worried that you'll disappear the moment I turn my back." He leaned forward and cupped his hand under her chin, turning her to him. "I can see in your eyes that you'll run."

"I won't," she said. The rush of excitement left her dizzy.

"Wish I could believe you." He moved to stand, and she grabbed his hand.

"You can." Forcing herself to slow down, she said, "It's staying at the clubhouse that I can't stand."

It was half true. There was no escape, no contact with the outside world, no freedom on Brikken property. Here, she could...she would find a way to make contact with Kylie and be able to stay with Jett. There would be no one watching her with Jett gone.

He stood, disregarding her hold on him. "Let's go."

"Please, Jett. Let's stay here." She planted her feet.

He fisted his hands and faced her. "You might be able to con others. But, you're not rolling one over on me. You're pissing me off, and you're not going to like it when you push me too far. I've told you from the start. It's all or nothing."

On instinct, she started to plan.

She followed him out of the house and waited while he locked the door. At the motorcycle, she put on the helmet when he put his on. She climbed on behind him after he sat the seat.

On the ride back to Brikken, she paid attention to what roads Jett rode on. She let her hands sprawl on his stomach, and she pressed her breasts against his back. She had less than two weeks to convince him she'd changed.

Hold on, Kylie. Don't give up on me. I'll be back. I swear.