Page 29 of Emmy's Ride

But when he pulled back, his eyes searching mine with raw vulnerability, the weight of reality crashed in. My eyes burned with conflicting emotion—desire, fear, anger, and a deep-seated pain that I thought I’d long since resolved. I knew, with a cold clarity, that Austin belonged to the club—his duty, his legacy—and that I was too often the ghost of his past.

Even so, as I stared at him, a part of me refused to let go. A part of me clung to the memory of our first love, the unspoken promise that maybe we could start over. Yet I also vowed neverto allow myself to be broken again by the same forces that had once torn my world apart.

My mind churned with questions and regrets—about Luke, about what might have been, and about the painful truth that some loves are as volatile and dangerous as the lives we lead. But amid the tumult of emotion, one thing remained undeniable: even if I was haunted by the past, a spark still burned in my heart, one that Austin had ignited long ago.

“Do you want me to leave, Em?”

I shook my head, giving him the only answer I had.

“Get in bed. It’s late, we both need to sleep.”

I took my shoes off and lay down in his bed with my clothes on. He followed on the other side of the enormous king bed. Rolling over, he pulled me back against his chest, a position I used to love. This time was no different. I’d always felt as if I were surrounded by Austin and safe.

As the night deepened around us, I pressed my lips together, fighting back tears and the urge to pull him closer, knowing that every kiss, every touch, carried the risk of undoing all the barriers I had built. And yet, as I lay there with him, heart pounding, I couldn’t help but wonder if some risks were worth taking—even if they might break me all over again.

Austin

The next evening, I sat alone with only a desk light on in my office, the aftermath of last night's events still echoing in my mind. The taste of adrenaline mixed with the copper tang of my own blood lingered on my tongue. Every detail of the fight—the frantic shouts, the blur of fists, and that moment when I saw the flash of the blade—replayed behind my eyes in relentless loops. The terror I’d felt at Emmy being in the damn center of the chaos. I clenched my jaw as I recalled how I’d dragged her through that mayhem, her frightened eyes meeting mine in a silent plea.

I leaned back in my chair, heavy thoughts weighing on me. I promised her I’d protect her, no matter what. I’d almost failed—twice. And protecting her meant more than just brute force. It meant finding Luke, understanding who was behind these attacks, and taking down the threat before anyone else got hurt. The responsibility was crushing, reminding me of my own father's legacy—a legacy of duty, sacrifice, and sometimes betrayal.

My mind drifted to memories of my father, Tate King, a man who had ruled with a mixture of iron and indulgence, whose choices had left scars on the club and on me. I’d sworn I wouldn’t become like him, I thought bitterly. But here I was, bound to this damn club and now caught between protecting Emmy and avenging Grit.

I never understood what my mom saw in him or why she stayed. It wasn’t like she didn’t have options. Her father, my grandfather, would have let her come home. Her life, cut short by cancer, could have been a lot different.

A rap on the office door pulled me back to the present. Tank stepped in, carrying the calm intensity that I respected.

“Prez,” Tank said. “We’ve got updates from the perimeter. No new sightings of Luke, but there’s chatter—whispers that somebody has been moving assets around in the east wing of the industrial park. It could be what we’re looking for. Who we’re looking for.”

“So, nothing concrete yet?”

Tank shook his head. “Not yet. But it’s enough to keep everyone on edge. Diesel thinks we should mobilize a few guys, see what we can dig up on those shipments.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’ll handle it.” I paused, running my finger along the wound above my eye—the souvenir from last night’s fight—and felt a pang of guilt. I almost got myself killed. And for what? So some bastard could send a warning?

“You need to take backup. You have no idea what you’ll be walking into,” Tank cautioned.

A reconnaissance mission was just what I needed to get my head out of the fucking Emmy cloud I’d been in since waking up that morning and finding her wrapped around me in her sleep. Just like she used to do. What wasn’t the same was me sliding out from under her and leaving instead of sliding into her. I’d woken up hard and ready and leaving her warm, soft body had been torture. I’d stayed away from her all day, holed up in my office like a pussy. “I’ll be fine. I’m not going to get close enough to need backup. I’ll just do a fly-by. If I find anything interesting, I’ll call some guys in.”

Tank didn’t agree, but he wouldn’t argue with the Prez. “One more thing. That name you had Jax working on. The one Cooper gave you at Rusty’s. Jax found a lead on a man calling himself The Ghost. At first glance he said it looks like he’s a high-stakes player in trafficking. The human kind. Jax is digging deeper.”

This Ghost could be the one they were looking for. “Maybe if we find this Ghost, we’ll find Luke.”

“It’s too early to say, but I’d still like to take him out on principal alone.”

I closed my laptop and pushed up from the desk to grab my cut and leather jacket. I looked up, meeting Tank’s steady gaze. “Agreed. Keep an eye on Emmy, will you? I don’t want her getting caught up in this mess—she’s already been through hell.”

Tank grunted. “Understood. She’s as stubborn as she ever was.”

Stubborn. Yeah, that damn girl. Despite the anger and frustration, a deep, unspoken affection pulsed through me whenever I thought of her—the way she never let anything break her spirit, even when everything around her was crumbling.

“Let’s meet up in an hour,” I said finally. “I’m going to check the east wing myself. If I find anything, I’ll call in.”

Tank nodded and, with a curt farewell, left the room.

I sighed, pushing back memories of a time when Emmy was the girl who never let me get away, and I, in turn, had tried, often failing, to hold on to her. Those memories, vivid and unyielding, made me both angry and tender all at once.

I ran a hand over my stubble as I stepped into the hallway. I have to fix this, I thought. I have to get Luke, and maybe in doing so, I can finally make things right with Emmy.

---