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His gaze locks onto me and it’s like I can see the twisted gears of his mind turning. “You, Ava,” he says, a venomous satisfaction in his voice, “you were the perfect pawn.”
I feel the cold weight of his words settle in my stomach. I’m not just Ava to him. I’m a tool, a weapon in his personal vendetta against the Reapers and Brick.
His revelations come wrapped in a disgusting display of power. It sends a shiver down my spine, but I clench my fists, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared. I’m not going to play the victim. I won’t crumble and hand him the victory. If it’s a fight he wants, it’s a fight he’ll get.
And a fight it is when he steps toward me, the vile intent clear in his eyes. I’m cornered, defenseless, but far from defeated. He tries to lay his hands on me, but I fight back with everything I have, putting all my fear, anger, and determination into a solid kick. It lands right where I intended, and he recoils, hissing through gritted teeth.
Mark stumbles back, nursing his bruised ego more than anything else. I can see the rage in his eyes, a promise of retaliation, but he retreats for now. His ominous words linger in the air as he exits, leaving me alone in the room once more. “This isn’t over, Ava,” he growls.
Once he’s gone, I sink to the floor, my body trembling with adrenaline. I take a moment to regain my composure, realizing that I’ve bought myself some time, but also escalated my danger. Yet, there’s no regret. Only a surge of defiance that helps me square my shoulders and lift my chin.
I’m not just a pawn in Mark’s twisted game. I’m not just a victim. No matter how dire the situation becomes, when Brick comes, I want him to find a fighter, not a victim.
The thought of him intensifies the tight knot of fear in my stomach, but it also brings with it a calming warmth. Despite the bleakness of my situation, the mere thought of him sparks a defiant flame in my heart.
Brick... in the weeks since I’ve known him—trulyknown him—he has become so much more than just a club president or a patient friend. There’s an undeniable connection between us, a bond that runs deeper than I thought possible. He’s my protector, yes, but also my confidant, my beacon in the dark. His strength has become a pillar I lean on, his stubbornness a challenge I enjoy, his guarded tenderness a reward I cherish.
Brick has seen me at my weakest, yet he’s never treated me like I’m fragile. He’s given me room to heal and grow. He’s sparked a resilience in me that I’d forgotten I possessed. It’s a bond forged not just in shared experiences, but in mutual respect, understanding, and a quiet kind of longing that neither of us has yet dared to name.
His image in my mind—that crinkled smile that makes my heart skip a beat, that aura of raw masculinity mixed with a surprising softness—gives me courage. It fuels my determination to survive this nightmare. Because I know Brick wouldn’t want anything less.
For him, for us, I’ll stay strong. Despite the fear gnawing at me, I draw upon every ounce of strength, every lesson I’ve learned from Brick and Ace. I can’t allow Mark or the Iron Serpents to break me. I refuse to give them that satisfaction. Because I know Brick is out there, probably blaming himself, fueling his guilt, and I won’t let his fears be validated.
I’ve become more attached to Brick than I’d ever thought possible. And though the situation is grim, I hold on to that connection, drawing strength from it. My hope isn’t just a faint glimmer anymore; it’s a beacon, fueled by the faith I have in him. And for now, that’s enough. It has to be.
CHAPTER9
Brick
We’ve spentall day trying to ferret out where the Serpents are keeping Ava, and finally, Stray figured it out. He stormed into the clubhouse a few minutes ago, his expression hardened and resolute, and revealed that he found a warehouse registered to Viper, the Serpents’ VP. It has to be the place.
My heart beats furiously as I mull over the information, analyzing every potential risk, every possible outcome. A pang of guilt stabs at me, the realization that Ava is in danger because of her connection to me, because of her association with the club. But there’s no time to wallow in self-pity. I need to rectify my mistake; I need to bring her back safe.
As the day bleeds into night, the Reapers gear up for a confrontation. The normally raucous clubhouse is now a hub of silent determination. Leather jackets are pulled on, shotguns are checked, knives are slipped into boots. The Reapers are ready to face hell for one of their own.
The strategy is simple, but risky. We’ll infiltrate the warehouse under the cover of darkness, catching the Serpents off guard. We’ll rely on our numbers and the element of surprise. But most of all, we’ll depend on our resolve, our determination to get Ava back at any cost. The planning session ends with a grim sense of purpose settling in the room, a silent vow passing among us—we will get Ava back.
Images of her flash in my mind non-stop—her smile, the defiance in her eyes, her infectious laughter. The pain of her absence is like a physical blow, fueling my guilt, my fear, but also my determination. I will be at the forefront of this rescue mission. I owe Ava that much.
I made a promise to protect her, and I have no intention of breaking it. The Iron Serpents have crossed a line, and they’ll pay for their mistake. For Ava, for the Cascade Reapers, I’m ready to wage this war. My resolve is rock solid. Ava needs me, and I won’t let her down. Not again.
As night falls, the Cascade Reapers descend upon the Iron Serpents’ suspected hideout. The roar of our bikes echoes menacingly through the deserted warehouse district, a war cry ripping through the silent night. As we approach the warehouse, the tension ripples through the air, a deadly prelude to the storm about to be unleashed.
We dismount and fan out, a united force ready to bring the wrath of hell upon our enemies. I signal the start of the attack, and in an instant, we break into the warehouse, igniting chaos. The Serpents scramble to respond, but our element of surprise gives us the upper hand.
I am a man possessed, leading the charge and cutting down anyone who dares to get in my way. Each swing of my fist, every guttural yell is fueled by the image of Ava—helpless, alone, scared. The very thought is unbearable, driving me into a furious frenzy.
A cacophony of shouts and grunts fill the warehouse, but it all fades into a blur as my focus narrows on my singular mission. All I see are Serpents standing between me and Ava. My punches land hard and swift, my ruthlessness amplified by a desperate determination. The Serpents fall, one by one, like dominos in the face of my relentless onslaught.
My thoughts are entirely consumed by Ava. I picture her face, her fear transforming into relief when she sees me. I remember the look in her eyes when I promised to protect her. The memory fuels me, charging me with a ruthless determination that makes me a formidable force against the Serpents. The battle rages on, but I am relentless, unstoppable.
For Ava, I will bring down the Iron Serpents tonight.
In the thick of the battle, I spot a figure trying to sneak out from the corner of my eye. Mark. Recognition dawns with a jolt of fury. The face from the previous altercation with Ava, now the orchestrator of her torment. A growl rips through my throat, the rage simmering within me boiling over.
“Mark!” I bellow, my voice echoing through the warehouse, momentarily drowning out the chaos. He halts, turning to face me with a sneer that has my blood boiling. His arrogance in the face of danger fuels my anger further.
We collide in a whirlwind of violence, the world narrowing down to just the two of us. Each blow I deliver is a promise— for the fear he caused Ava, for the pain he invited into our lives. I fight with a ferocity born from a place of love, the love I harbor for Ava that I’m only now fully acknowledging.
