Page 57 of Rocky Top

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hitme, grounding me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

“You okay?” Eliza asked gently.

I let out a shaky laugh. “No.”

She smiled, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “We'll figure this out together.”

I leaned into her embrace, grateful for her friendship. “Yeah. I guess.”

Chapter 13

Rocky

Xc A storm was brewin’. Not just in the clouds overhead, though those were black as hell and rollin’ in thick over the mountains. Nah, the real trouble was buzzin’ through the Wild Dog like a damn hornet’s nest someone took a bat to. And I was the unlucky bastard standin’ in the middle of it.

The minute I stepped through the back doors, the clubhouse hit me with a wall of heat, smoke, and bad vibes. Our officers were gathered in thick clusters, drinkin', mutterin', shootin' looks that meant more than words ever could. Word travels fast in a club like ours, especially when it’s got claws and fangs. And I had a feelin’ the whole damn place knew Birdie’d seen too much.

Church was set for midnight, but Knox had already texted me three times like I was late for a funeral.

Maybe I was.

My own.

I cut through the crowd, dodgin' a couple of hangarounds who smelled like cheap perfume and regret, then pushed open the heavy door to the room we called the chapel.

“‘Bout time,” Knox muttered, arms crossed over his chest like a goddamn statue.

TNT, Chevy, and Smokey were already seated at the round table, each one with a drink, and each one starin’ like they were waitin’ on me to blow up the spot. The others milled around, like they couldn’t sit still.

“Y’all started without me?” I tossed my cut over the back of my chair and dropped into it, leanin’ back with a creak.

“Not sure you’d show after makin’ a spectacle out in the woods,” Chevy said, fingers drummin' on the table. His voice was dry, like old leather left out in the sun too long.

“Spectacle?” I barked. “Sorry I didn’t let her get eaten so y’all could keep feelin’ safe.”

“Rocky,” Knox warned, that edge in his voice that made everyone else listen. “Ain’t nobody sayin’ that. But you shifted, out there, in front of a civ—”

“She ain't just some civ,” I snapped. “She’s Eliza’s best friend. She’s been around the club long enough.”

“Being around and bein’ in it are two different beasts,” Smokey muttered. His beard twitched with his frown.

I ran a hand over my jaw, feelin’ the week’s stubble and pressure both buildin’. “She was gonna die, boys. And I wasn't about to let her.”

“Problem is, now she knows,” Smokey said, voice low and cool. “And there ain’t no takin’ that back.”

Knox shifted in his seat, lookin’ more tired than I’d seen him in months. “How she take it?”

“Hell, she was scared shitless. Thought I was a damn werewolf from a movie. Clawed and naked and drippin’ blood. Can’t blame her.”

Silence settled like smoke. Everyone knew what was at stake. We’d survived decades by stayin’ hidden, our truths tucked behind rides, cuts, and ink. But Birdie’d peeked behind the curtain, and she’d seen more than a rabbit trick.

“She tell anyone?” Knox asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet. But she’s askin’ questions. Right ones.”

Chevy lifted his beer. “Then she’s dangerous.”

My lip curled, but I held the growl. “She’s not dangerous. She’s scared.”

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