Time passed by quickly when we were having fun. Maybe it was Ayda who was making my world feel like a daydream, or maybe it was the fact that, after the night in that warehouse, I’d finally given myself over to life. It was probably a combination of the two.

I was due to go on a shady repo job that Saturday morning, but Ayda had peeled back the comforter on our bed, straddled my waist and begged me to train her on the punchbag for an hour before I had to leave. I tried to tell her I needed my sleep. I tried to warn her that the guy whose car we were repossessing had a reputation for causing trouble and starting fights when things didn’t go his way. I tried to get out of it because, quite frankly, her thirst for body power was starting to worry me a little bit. She was lucky I was getting turned on too much to say anything about it every time we ended up in the training room.

But no matter how much I tried to get out of her demands, there I was, watching her with a towel thrown over my shoulder as she threw a determined combination at the bag and went up too high on her toes.

“Darlin’,” I said roughly, sleep still tainting my voice. “Don’t get too eager. Keep the feet down until you have to move away. Balance. Remember?”

Uttering a quiet expletive under her breath, Ayda dropped her heels back down to the mat under her and took a deep breath. She was already damp with sweat—her eyes narrowed with determination as she pushed her ass out and lifted her hands again. “Got it.”

I gave her a short, sharp nod of approval and watched her get back to work. There was a fire in this woman I’d never seen in anyone else. She could have been the runt of the litter, but she’d still be the victor in any war. Her eyes shone with determination, even on those occasions where she did confuse herself by trying to run before she could walk. Her muscles strained, practically begging for her to fall back and take a breath, but she’d be damned if she quit before she was ready.

It was hot as Hell.

Eventually, we called time on the session, with me getting her to stop by playing the hubby has to go to work, wifey card.

I tossed her a bottle of water, watching as she chugged it down and gasped before wiping the back of her mouth with her hand. She was sweaty, and it made me want to make her even sweatier. I smirked, all my thoughts clear to see as I watched her through narrowed eyes. Nothing turned me on more than a dirty Ayda.

Cutting across the distance in two strides, Ayda jumped on me, her legs closing around my waist giving me a front row viewing to a trickle of sweat working its way down between her tits. “Do you really have to go? I was hoping you’d get good and sweaty with me.”

My eyes focused on her chest as I spoke. “You’re insatiable, woman.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” She crushed her lips against mine, raising her hips so she pressed closer, and after a nibble on my bottom lip, she dropped to her feet again. “I have to work anyway. I’m covering for Sam today. Only for an hour or two, but if you wanna drop by when you’re finished…?”

“You know I’ll be there. I might bring a few of the guys along. I’m feeling charitable.” I cleared my throat and tried to suppress my smile. “It also doesn’t hurt for the likes of Hove to see the MC walking around town in numbers.”

“I’ll keep the coffee fresh then.” Ayda grinned and tapped my ass with her hands.

“You do that.” I slapped her ass harder in return, laughing roughly as the two of us began to walk to the door that led out to the yard. It was a bright day, and the sun was low. The air was fucking cold. Ayda’s cheeks looked even rosier out in the daylight, and as I glanced up at The Hut, I saw Harry, Slater, Jedd, and Kenny all waiting for me to get to work. Their arms were folded and their eyebrows raised as Slater tapped his wrist to tell me I was already fucking late.

“See what trouble you get me into,” I muttered to Ayda from a small gap in the corner of my mouth.

“I do,” she said, looking over at the men. Holding her hands to her mouth, she shouted to them, “He’s all yours.”

“Not sure that’s a good thing,” Kenny shouted back as he jumped down the steps of the porch.

“Bastard,” I grumbled, passing Ayda the towel from my shoulder before I walked over to The Hut. I didn’t have time to shower, but I wasn’t going anywhere without my hoodie and cut. I gave Ayda a kiss on the cheek and left her talking to the guys before I went inside, grabbed my things and began to walk back out through the bar.

“Tucker,” a voice said beside me.

I stopped and turned to my right, scowling as I realized who the hell it was before I saw his face. Owen Sinclair: our stand-in numbers guy and accountant while I’d been locked up. He was also a long-standing member of The Hounds of Babylon. Sworn in by my family, serving like a brother, yet hating me like an older sibling at the same time. The guy didn’t like me. His world was brighter when I was rotting away in darkness. Still… he was the only other man in patched leather that could work the books the way I could, and my father had always set a rule in our club. Two sets of eyes were to go over everything so no one man could make profit off the books without anyone else knowing.

It made sense really.

I just hated that I had to work with this prick once a month.

“Owen.” I smiled flatly. “Didn’t realize you were around today.”

“Thought you guys could do with a hand with this repo job. I saw it on the books last week. Told my old lady I was going to step in and provide some support.”

“Decent of you.”

“I’m a decent guy,” he said through a cocky grin.

“How all Hounds should be.” I widened my eyes and gave him a nod. “We better get going then.”

“Lead the way.” He saluted and gestured toward the door, and I tried to stay a few strides ahead of him. The guy had always creeped me the fuck out, even though Harry and Deeks always assured me he’d been a good thing for the club while I was gone.

Jumping down the steps, I wrapped my arm around Ayda’s waist and dropped another kiss to her sweaty forehead.

“In a bit, darlin’,” I whispered. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Be safe. I love you.”

“Always am.” I winked before I turned my back on her and walked to the repo truck. Glancing over at Slater, I gave him my silent challenge before speaking. He rolled his eyes and shook his head before his grin tore free.

“Let me guess,” he shouted. “You’re taking the wrecker, and the rest of us are in the van.”

“See who gets there first?”

“I don’t lose, Tucker.”

“We’ll see.” I climbed into the truck and started her up, my body vibrating as the heavy engine roared to life before I began to back her out of her parking spot. By the time I’d reversed, the other five Hounds had got in the van and were already at the gates, turning left to take the main route through Babylon.

“Fuckers,” I growled to myself, knowing that left me to turn right and take the most isolated back roads. It wasn’t a major issue, but if the lights through Babylon were kind to my brothers, there was no doubting they’d get to the repo job before me. I had to hope for a few red lights along the way slowing them down while I tore down the more scenic roads that held less traffic.

I cranked up the volume on the radio and allowed myself to get lost in a bit of Motorhead, throwing my head back against the seat with a screwed on smile on my face. I put the window down and let the cold air bite at my skin. A part of me contemplated letting them win and get there first, just so I could take a five-minute break on my own and enjoy some time in the truck.

I glanced at the time and noticed it was past nine now—still early for us as a club, but late enough for the world around us to have come to life. Even though it shouldn’t have surprised me to see someone walking down the long, winding, and desolate roads on their own… it did. The small figure grew the closer I got until I noticed the recognizable cheerleading dress, white pumps, and familiar denim jacket.

Sitting upright, I narrowed my eyes and scowled, turning down the volume on the music as I drew closer. The figure was slumped, walking slowly, like they were carrying the weight of the whole world on their shoulders and couldn’t physically lift their head.

It was only when I got within touching distance of her that my heart dropped into my stomach and I slammed on the brakes, coming to a grunting stop all at once.

She didn’t look up.

She kept on walking.

Lost in her own thoughts, a million miles away from the rest of us.

I jumped out of the truck, landing on the ground with a thud before I slammed the door shut and jogged over to her from behind.

“Sloane?” I called out.

She didn’t respond.

All of Howard’s concerns about his daughter attacked my mind at once. Why was she out here? Why didn’t any of us know? Was she okay?

I didn’t get too much time to analyze any of it. The second I reached out to grab her shoulder and turn her around, she flinched and stepped back, crying out all at once like a lamb that was about to be taken to slaughter.

I jumped back, eyes wide as I sucked in a breath and looked down her body. Her chin was dipped to her chest. Her hair hung limply in straggly sections, and her arms had the edges of her denim jacket tucked tightly closed. She was curled in on herself, scared and almost feral-looking. Her knees were covered in dirt, and the edges of her dress looked frayed.

It was at that moment that the gut-wrenching, paralyzing fear struck me.

“Sloane,” I said again quietly, gently, more cautiously than before.

She froze still—at least her feet did. The upper section of her body was trembling. Only slightly, but it was fucking trembling, and so was her chin.

My heart rate climbed higher and higher, my chest bouncing as I tried to remain calm and drag in enough air through my flared nostrils. My hands balled into fists at my sides, and my jaw ticked as all light seeped out from my skin and blew away with the February winds.

I tried to open my mouth to say something warm and kind, but nothing came out. Not until I saw her begin to slowly lift her chin and look up at me through the thickness of her brows, then her clumped-together lashes.

When our eyes met, hers were red, bloodshot and mascara-stained. Mine were wide, raging, and fucking confused.

“Sloane,” I eventually pushed out, not wanting to reach out to her again.

I shook my head, unable to understand what was going on, and hoping to shit my gut instincts were wrong for once.

As she sniffed back the tears and looked up at me fully, I felt her guard begin to slip away.

“D-Drew…?” she said shakily.

“Yeah.” I nodded once, swallowing.

“Is that really you?”

“It’s Drew, Sloane. You okay?”

She gave me a single nod in return, holding on to some semblance of control before it all slipped away and crumbled to the ground. Her knees buckled. Her head sagged. Her body dropped to the earth with an almighty thud, making me push forward just in time to catch her head before it made contact. Then there was, just she and I on the roadside. One guy without a goddamn clue what had happened or what to do. One girl who I feared was about to tell me something I’d never be able to forget.

Her sobs came in fits, making her whole body shake before she rolled her head back against my arm and let out an almighty cry to the skies. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it sounded like a howl.

If it was help she needed, I was there. Without thinking about it, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her back to the truck, relief flooding me when she curled against my chest rather than pushing me away.

She smelled of dirt, desperation, and heartache, and all I could think about as I carried her was how Moose had carried Ayda out of the Warehouse the very same way, and how Ayda’s cries had sounded the same for days after she’d made it out of there alive.

I only hoped, with all my newly discovered heart, that Sloane hadn’t suffered something quite as bad as that because of my MC.