Page 61 of Contracted to the Bikers

Alvarez’s gaze returns to Sloane. “With his testimony,” he says, flicking the papers. “This holds.”

Sloane nods once. “I know.”

He studies her for another moment before standing, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Alright. Let’s go arrest the son of a bitch.”

Just like that. No hesitation. No delay.

***

The arrest happens fast. Faster than anything we’ve dealt with up to this point. It’s efficient and clean. We’re not there when the cops take Briggs in, but we hear it over the radio. Voices crackle through static—short, clipped confirmations, location updates, commands given and followed without hesitation.

“Suspect in custody.”

“Perimeter secure.”

“Transport en route.”

Briggs doesn’t resist, reserving his right to remain silent. He’s not stupid, he knows the game has changed. After everything, it’s almost… anticlimactic.

Sloane stands beside me when the final confirmation comes through. I feel it more than I see it—the shift in her posture, the way her shoulders drop just slightly, like she’s been holding something heavy for too long and finally gets to set it down.

I stand outside the station, the late afternoon air warm against my skin, the sun low enough to cast long shadows across the sidewalk. The noise of the city feels distant, detached, like we’re standing just outside of it. The world keeps on turning, indifferent to the monumental change that’s happened in our lives.

I look at Sloane, who is standing still, staring up at the blue sky, eyes unfocused like she’s somewhere else entirely, replaying everything that led to this moment. “It’s not over,” she says.

“No,” I agree, stepping closer and pulling her close. “But it’s a start.”

Cruz lets out a long breath, tension bleeding out of him in slow, controlled release. “You did it,” he says to Sloane.

She looks at Cruz, then at all of us, shaking her head. “No. We did it.”

We. I like the way that sounds. We’re a team. For the first time since this started, we’re finally ahead. We’re together, exactly where we need to be.

Chapter 24

Sloane

Two Weeks Later

The sounds of laughter, the hush of the waves, and the cry of the seagulls fill the air. I stare out at the endless blue ocean where the horizon meets the blue sky, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I breathe without it catching halfway in my chest.

It’s been two weeks since Briggs was arrested. As the reality that we’d done it sank in, the world slowly stopped feeling like it was closing in on us from every direction.

It’s not over, my brain won’t let me believe that, Briggs won’t go down without a fight, but the constant pressure has been eased, replaced by something lighter, more peaceful.

Jessy shrieks with laughter as a wave rushes toward her, the water curling around her ankles before retreating again. Her small feet dig into the wet sand, leaving imprints that wash away as she runs back toward Boone, who’s crouched near the shoreline, hands shaping what might eventually resemble a sandcastle.

“Boone! It’s attacking me!” she yells, pointing accusingly at the ocean.

He plays along immediately, eyes narrowing at the water like it’s a real threat. “We’ll reinforce the walls,” he says, already scooping wet sand into place. “No wave’s taking this one down.”

Cruz is nearby, ankle-deep in the water, deliberately splashing toward them with a wicked grin. “Oh no,” he says, voice full of mock menace. “Tidal wave!”

Jessy gasps. “Cruz!”

He lunges forward just enough to send a spray of water in her direction, and she dissolves into giggles, darting away before spinning back, fearless, delighted, completely herself again. That’s the thing I keep watching, the thing that’s lifted the weight from my heart, it’s not just that she’s laughing, but how easily her laughter comes now. The nightmares have eased. They’re not gone, not completely, but they’re less frequent, less terrifying. The tight grip she used to keep on me has loosened just enough that she runs freely again, trusting that I’m still here when she looks back.

The therapist said she would get better, thank god she was right. Still, I watch her like I might miss something if I blink too long. I don’t know if I’ll ever shake the fear that she might disappear again.