Page 31 of Contracted to the Bikers

Everything snaps. Rook moves first, fast enough that the chair behind him scrapes violently against the floor. Cruz steps forward at the same time, tension exploding outward like a live wire.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Cruz says, voice low and dangerous.

Rook’s eyes are locked on Boone now, cold and furious—the air shifts from tense to violent in a heartbeat. Rook steps forward like he’s about to swing, but Boone doesn’t back down; he doesn’t even change posture, which only makes it worse.

I step forward immediately, placing myself between them before this turns physical. “Stop.” No one listens. “Stop!” My voice cracks through the room, sharp enough to cut through, barely, but it’s enough. The tension doesn’t disappear. It just pauses.

The men breathe heavily, eyes locked as they glower at each other, fists clenched.

“This is exactly the problem,” I say, my own voice tighter now, frustration bleeding through. “You’re acting like I’m some prize to fight over. Like, I don’t get a say in anything.”

“That’s not—” Rook starts.

“It is,” I cut him off. I turn, looking at each of them in turn.

Rook, rigid, controlled fury barely contained. Cruz, tense, restless, jaw set. Boone, still, but no longer calm.

“You told me this is how your world works,” I say. “That you share. That nothing here is simple. That you all want me.”

“That doesn’t mean—” Cruz begins.

“Then what does it mean?” I fire back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like three grown men acting like dogs fighting over a bone.” I continue, voice steady but sharper now, “You seem like three men who don’t actually know what they want, they just want to win.”

My words hit them like a slap. No one speaks. The room feels smaller, hotter, and claustrophobic.

“I do,” I say slowly. Their attention snaps back to me. “I want all of you.” The words hang there, heavy, unavoidable, and true.

Cruz exhales slowly. Rook doesn’t move. Boone’s eyes stay on me, steady and unreadable.

“I’m not confused about that,” I continue. “I’m not unsure, I’m not experimenting, or just having some fun, and I’m not going to pretend this is something it isn’t to me.” My heart is pounding now, but my voice stays level. “This only works, we only work, if you stop acting like you’re in competition.”

Rook’s jaw tightens. “You think this is that simple?”

“No,” I say. “I think it’s that necessary.” I take a breath and lay it out. “Either all of you can have me,” I say clearly, “or none of you will.”

That lands like a punch. Cruz’s head tilts slightly, processing. Boone doesn’t move. But his brow furrows in consideration. Rook’s gaze sharpens.

“You don’t get to fight over me,” I continue. “You don’t get to turn this into something that breaks what you already have. I’m not going to be the reason this club fractures,” I say. “I’m not going to be the thing that comes between you.”

“You’re not—” Rook starts.

“I am,” I interrupt. “Whether you like it or not.”

“And if we don’t agree?” Rook asks quietly.

I meet his eyes. “Then I leave.”

Silence. “You wouldn’t,” Rook says. He knows the stakes, knows why I came here in the first place.

“I would,” I reply. “I will take Jessy and go into witness protection.”

“No,” Rook says, the word coming out sharp and firm.

Cruz swears under his breath. Boone shifts closer.

“You said you would never—” Cruz starts.

“I said I didn’t trust it,” I correct. “Not that I wouldn’t do it if I had to.” The weight of that settles over all of us. “I’m not staying here to watch the three of you destroy each other over me,” I say. “That’s not happening.”