Page 10 of Vows of Ruin

I nod. “He’s right. You should be driving something that can take a hit. Or ten.”

She gives me a look, but it doesn’t hold fire. “You two act like the world’s after me.”

We both go silent. Because it always is. Max kisses her temple. “We just want you safe.”

He walks out of the kitchen with her still in his arms like she weighs nothing. A second later, we all hear her squeal echoing down the hall, laughter wrapped in delight, and it pulls a sound out of me I haven’t made in years with anyone but her.

A laugh. A real one. Everyone in the kitchen freezes like they’ve just witnessed a damn miracle.

Torque drops the spatula. “Was that… did you just laugh?”

Margot leans over the counter. “Yes, I need to hear it again. Someone say something funny.”

Riot strolls in with perfect timing, coffee mug in hand. “What the fuck is going on in here. Did someone actually spike the orange juice this time?”

Wrecker tilts his head. “Nope. Reaper just laughed.”

Riot blinks. “Like… with sound?”

“I’m not a damn mute,” I grumble, grabbing a slice of bacon off Torque’s plate. He slaps my hand, but he’s grinning.

“I like this version of you,” Margot says, pouring herself more coffee. “You should get laid more often.”

Torque chuckles. “Or just live in a house with the human embodiment of chaos and tequila.”

Riot smirks. “Same thing, really.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t stop the curl at the corner of my mouth. This is dangerous, this lightness. For once though, it doesn’t feel like a trap. It just feels like home.

The sun is low and hot as I straddle the bike, parked in the driveway, engine purring beneath me. It gleams like a threat in black and chrome, sleek, fast, unapologetic. Wrenley’s not back yet, and I know damn well why. She’s making me wait for sending her back in to change. That sundress was driving me insane for one, but more importantly… it offered about as much protection as tissue paper. She grumbled all the way back to the door, but the bounce in her step betrayed her. She loves the bike. Loves the thrill almost as much as I love watching her chase it.

When she finally returns, she’s in fitted jeans, a cropped tank under her riding jacket. Still dangerous. Just… safer.

She slides onto the back, tightening her helmet before she locks her arms around my waist.

“You ready?” I say.

Her voice floats out through her open visor. “Always.”

I grin, then reach back and double tap her thigh. “Hold on. I’m not in the mood for traffic.”

The second I twist the throttle, she lets out a wild laugh, half joy, half dare, it lights something in me. I weave between cars like the world’s falling behind. Her chest presses to my back, her grip tight and trusting. Like she was made to ride with me. Like she knows I’ll never let her fall.

By the time we pull up to the club, I can feel the buzz in her veins through her touch. Hunter’s waiting just inside the entrance, standing tall, arms crossed, sunglasses still on even though the hallways are dim.

He nods. “Afternoon, Miss Wrenley, Reaper.”

Wrenley pulls off her helmet and shakes her hair out like it’s a movie scene. Hunter reaches out to take the helmet from her.

“Thank you,” she says, and then pauses, tilting her head. “Hunter, you don’t have to call me Miss Wrenley. It’s just Wren, okay?”

He hesitates. “Okay.”

But I catch it, the flicker in his posture, the way he still doesn’t quite relax. He won’t stop. Not with her. Not with what she means to all of us. Calling her ‘Miss Wrenley' is his line in the sand, his way of showing respect, the only way he knows how. I don’t correct it.

“There was a package delivered this morning, Miss Wrenley, your name, no return address.” Hunter says, gesturing toward the stairs. “I left it on the office desk. Already cleared it for anything… explosive.”

Wrenley arches a brow and giggles. “Thank you.” She heads toward the stairs, tugging her gloves off finger by finger. Her silhouette vanishes into the office. I walk in just as she sets the last message down, her brow furrowed in that way that says she’s about to start making someone’s life very complicated. I toss her a bottle of water, I grabbed from behind the bar.