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The bedroom door opened, ending the conversation. Blitz stepped into the hall. “She’s asleep.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” Mayhem said.

Riot lowered himself against the wall beside the door. “I’m not going anywhere.” Mayhem sat across from him. Monster looked between them once more before walking away with Blitz. Doc followed, muttering about stubborn bikers and unresolved sexual tension. Silence settled over the hallway.

Riot rested his head against the wall. “You like her,” he said. It wasn’t a question—more like he was stating a fact.

“I found her an hour ago,” Mayhem said. “How can I know if I like her after an hour?”

“That wasn’t a denial,” Riot breathed.

“She’s hurt,” Mayhem growled.

“And you want to protect her,” Riot said.

“That’s my job,” Mayhem reminded.

“You wrapped your vest around her,” Riot said as though he was proving his point.

“She was cold,” Mayhem insisted.

“You wouldn’t let me carry her,” Riot shot back.

Mayhem stared at him. “Do you have a point?”

Riot held his gaze. “I saw the way she looked at you,” he said.

Mayhem’s stomach tightened. “She’s frightened.”

“She trusts you,” Riot whispered.

“She doesn’t even know me,” Mayhem insisted.

“Neither did I.” The old wound opened between them, and Mayhem looked away. Riot had trusted him once—with his body, his secrets, and eventually his heart. Mayhem had accepted the first two and pretended not to notice the third, and that lie had damaged them both.

“What are you doing here?” Mayhem asked.

“Helping you protect her,” Riot said.

“That’s not what I meant,” Mayhem insisted.

“I know.” Riot leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “When you rode through the gate with her wrapped around you, I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Mayhem forced himself to ask. “What?”

“Hope.” The single word struck harder than a fist. Riot’s mouth curved without humor. “Pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“No,” Mayhem breathed. Riot searched his face. Mayhem had spent years refusing to label what existed between them. He’d told himself it was sex, friendship, and convenience, but it had always been so much more.

Whatever happened with Delaney, he couldn’t use her to repair the relationship he had broken. She wasn’t a bridge between them or a fantasy for them to share. She was an injured woman who needed safety. But for the first time, Mayhem wondered whether protecting her might force him to face the truth he’d avoided. He cared about Riot. He already felt something dangerous awakening toward Delaney, and sooner or later, all three of them would have to decide what that meant.

Mayhem rested his head against the wall. “You should get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Riot settled beside the bedroom door. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Mayhem looked at the man he had never truly stopped wanting. “I’m beginning to understand that.” Behind the locked door, Delaney cried out in her sleep, and both men were on their feet before the sound faded. Mayhem reached for the doorknob, but Riot caught his wrist.

“She locked it,” Riot reminded him. “We promised she would be safe.” Mayhem forced himself to release the handle, and Riot knocked gently.