Page 44 of Emmy's Ride

Cole chuckled, then sobered. “If you’re serious about this, you need to be ready for pushback. Not just from your own guys, but from people who profit off things staying the way they are. Hell, even The Ghost may be affected. You know, the trickle-down theory. Try cutting off his market. See how quick he comes knocking."

I didn’t flinch. "Let him."

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You always did have a death wish." Then, after a pause, he sighed. "But if you actually pull this off, it could be something good. A better future and not only for the KOC.

I met his gaze. "That’s the plan."

Cole nodded, clapping me on the shoulder. "Then I hope you’re ready for a war, brother. Because changing the game? That’s not gonna come easy."

I smirked and opened the car door. "Nothing worth it ever does."

As I rode back to the clubhouse, the wheels in my head were already turning. This wasn’t just a pipe dream anymore. This was happening.

And no one—especially not The Ghost—was going to stop me.

I slipped into the clubhouse just past two in the morning, exhaustion settling into my bones. My meeting with Cole had given me more questions than answers, and my brain wouldn't stop turning over every word, every unspoken implication. But none of that mattered right now.

Right now, all I wanted was her.

I eased the bedroom door open and stepped inside, closing it softly behind me. The room was dark, but I could see the faint outline of Emmy lying in bed. She wasn’t asleep. I could feel it.

Silently, I stripped off my clothes, tossing them onto a chair before sliding under the covers. The moment my body sank into the mattress, she rolled over. Without hesitation, I pulled her into my arms, tucking her against my chest.

She sighed, snuggling in closer. “You’re late.”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah.”

She tilted her head, looking up at me, shadows playing across her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. Not yet. “What are you doing awake?”

Her fingers tightened on my side. “I didn’t know where you were.”

My heart clenched. Emmy had always been stubborn, always guarded her emotions like a fortress, but moments like this—when she let herself be vulnerable, when she admitted she needed me—those were the ones that destroyed me.

I tipped her chin up, brushing my lips against hers. “I’m here now.”

She nodded, but her eyes still held worry. “I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe.”

Something broke loose inside me at those words. My Emmy, strong and independent, cared more about my safety than her own. I kissed her softly, lingering, letting myself drown in the feel of her, in the warmth of her lips.

Her hands slid up my chest, over my shoulders, pulling me closer. I deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, pouring everything I felt into it. This wasn’t about need or desperation. This was about love. About holding on to the one thing that made sense in a world that was spinning out of control.

I rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs, my body covering hers like a shield. My hands moved over her, relearning every inch, every curve, every soft sigh she made. Emmy arched into me, her nails raking lightly down my back, whispering words I couldn’t make out.

We made love slowly, tenderly, savoring every touch, every moment. No rush, no urgency—just us. Just this.

After, I held her close, our bodies tangled together, her head resting on my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I love you,” I murmured, the words slipping out like a vow.

Emmy didn’t speak right away. Instead, she tightened her grip on me, pressing her lips against my skin. Then, so soft I almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, “I love you too.”

I closed my eyes, my arms tightening around her.

For tonight, that was enough.

Emmy

I sighed as I stretched, rolling the stiffness out of my shoulders. It had been a long morning, and I there was still a full day ahead of me. I poured myself a cup of coffee to give me a jolt for the afternoon sessions. I loved my job, but some days seemed endless when I felt as if I were only spinning my wheels with my patients.

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