Page 6 of Piston

I knew I should stay away, knew that getting involved with her would only bring trouble. But there was a part of me, a part I thought had died a long time ago, that yearned for something more, something real.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I was a fool to even consider it, to think that someone like Jenny could ever understand the life I led, the choices I'd made.

The Iron Reapers were my family, my brothers in arms. We looked out for each other, had each other's backs no matter what. But the price of that loyalty was high, and I'd paid it more times than I could count.

I couldn't drag Jenny into that world, couldn't risk her getting caught in the crossfire. She deserved better than that, better than me.

I turned off the highway, taking the exit that would lead me back to the clubhouse. I needed to focus on the next job, needed to bury myself in the work until the memory of Jenny's face faded away.

But even as I pulled into the parking lot, I knew it wouldn't be that easy. Jenny had gotten under my skin, had awakened something in me that I thought was long dead.

I just had to make sure it stayed that way, had to keep my distance no matter how much it hurt. Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was keeping her safe, even if it meant walking away from the one thing I wanted most.

The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it did little to numb the ache in my chest. I set the bottle back on the table with a heavy thud, my eyes drifting to the shadows that danced across the walls of my dimly lit apartment.

I couldn't shake the image of Jenny from my mind, the way her brown hair fell in soft waves around her face, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. It was like a goddamn disease, eating away at me from the inside out.

I never should have gone back to Perdition, never should have let myself get drawn into her orbit. But there was something about her, something that made me want to spill my guts and lay all my cards on the table.

"Get a grip, Piston," I muttered to myself, running a hand over my face. "You're no good for her, and she's sure as hell no good for you."

But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a lie. Jenny was everything I wasn't - kind, compassionate, full of life. She made me want to be a better man, made me want to leavebehind the violence and the chaos that had defined my existence for so long.

It was a pipe dream, of course. I was too far gone, too broken to ever be the kind of man she deserved. But that didn't stop me from wanting her, from imagining what it would be like to wake up next to her every morning and fall asleep with her in my arms every night.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts from my mind. It was a dangerous road to go down, one that could only lead to heartache and pain. I had to keep my distance, had to protect her from the darkness that followed me like a shadow.

But as I sat there in the stillness of my apartment, the loneliness that had been my constant companion for so long seemed to press in on me from all sides. I was tired of being alone, tired of pushing everyone away for their own good.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to let Jenny in without putting her in danger. Maybe I could find a way to balance my loyalty to the Iron Reapers with my growing feelings for her.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was a fool's hope. The life I lived, the things I'd done - they would always be a part of me, always be a barrier between me and anyone who tried to get too close.

I reached for the bottle again, taking another long swig of whiskey. It was going to be a long night, but at least the alcohol would help dull the ache in my chest, even if only for a little while.

The Iron Reapers were my family, my brothers. We'd been through hell and back together, and I owed them everything. The club gave me a sense of purpose, a reason to keep going when the demons of my past threatened to drag me under.

I thought about the missions we'd been on, the people we'd helped. It wasn't always pretty, and it sure as hell wasn't legal,but it was important work. We made a difference in the world, even if no one else knew it.

But the cost was high. I'd seen good men die, watched as their families mourned them. I'd taken lives myself, all in the name of the club. It weighed on me, the knowledge of what I'd done, what I was capable of.

And now, with Jenny in the picture, the cost seemed even higher. I couldn't drag her into this life, couldn't put her at risk. She deserved better than that, better than me.

I drained the last of the whiskey, feeling the familiar burn as it slid down my throat. I had to focus on the club, on the next mission. There was no room for distractions, no matter how much I might want them.

I stood up, grabbing my cut from the back of the chair. It was time to get to work, to do what needed to be done. I had to bury my feelings for Jenny, had to push them down deep where they couldn't hurt anyone.

It was the only way to keep her safe, the only way to keep the club strong. I'd chosen this life, and I had to see it through, no matter how much it might hurt.

As I stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting my face, I felt a sense of resolve settle over me. I was a member of the Iron Reapers, a soldier in a never-ending war. And I would fight until my last breath, even if it meant losing everything else along the way

The roar of my bike cut through the stillness as I tore out of the parking lot, gravel spraying behind me. I didn't know where I was going, just that I needed to ride, to feel the wind against my face and the power of the machine beneath me.

My thoughts were a tangled mess, images of Jenny mixing with memories of the club, of the battles we'd fought and the brothers we'd lost. It was all so fucking complicated, and I didn't know how to make sense of it.

Part of me wanted to say screw it all, to walk away from the club and the life I'd chosen. But I knew I couldn't do that, not after everything we'd been through together. The Iron Reapers were my family, the only one I had left, and I couldn't turn my back on them now.

So I rode, pushing the bike harder and faster, the engine screaming as I flew down the highway. I let the rush of adrenaline wash over me, let it drown out the doubt and the confusion, until there was nothing left but the road ahead.