Page 25 of Rampage

As we eat, Deb fills me in on what happened after we left. The police chief had officially reprimanded Officer Jenkins, and word had spread throughout town about what occurred. People were angry on my behalf, she said. The community was rallying around me.

"The Sinners have been making calls all afternoon," Deb adds, her voice dropping slightly. "Mason stopped by the diner and said the club is taking this very seriously, and you have company downstairs standing guard.”

"Wait, what?" I ask, nearly choking on a fry. "What do you mean 'company downstairs'?"

Deb smiles knowingly. "Reid's brothers. The twins. They've been stationed in the diner since you two came upstairs. Alex is watching the front entrance, and Jacob's covering the back door and stairway. No one gets in without going through them first."

I look at Reid in surprise. He shrugs, unapologetic. "I called them while you were sleeping. Better safe than sorry."

"They look just like you," Deb adds, gathering the empty food containers. "Same intimidating stance, same protective scowl. The three of you could be triplets if not for the slight age difference."

"Alex has the scar above his eyebrow," Reid explains to me. "Jacob's the quieter one, but don't let that fool you. He's just as dangerous when provoked."

"I didn't ask you to post guards," I say, unsure how to feel about this development.

Reid's expression softens. "You didn't have to. They're my brothers, Lily. The moment I told them what happened, they left college and came straight here.

It’s still insane to me that people are actually this loyal.

Reid nods, his jaw tight. "My father's been on the phone with contacts in your hometown. We're gathering information on Frank Dawson."

The casual way they discuss investigating my foster father sends a chill down my spine. "What kind of information?"

"Everything," Reid says. "His finances, his connections, his history with the foster system. We need to understand what we're dealing with."

I push my half-eaten burger away, my appetite suddenly gone. "I should be terrified by all this, shouldn't I? The club getting involved, investigating people… it sounds like something from a movie."

Deb reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "It's okay to be scared, honey. But these men, they're good at what they do. And they protect their own."

"Which reminds me," Reid says, checking his watch. "We should start getting ready for the meeting. It's at eight, but I'd like to get there early to talk to my father before everyone arrives."

After Deb leaves, promising to check on me tomorrow, I shower and change into fresh clothes—jeans and a simple blouse, nothing fancy but clean and presentable. When I emerge from the bathroom, Reid is waiting by the door, his expression unreadable.

"Nervous?" he asks.

"Terrified," I admit. "What should I expect?"

He considers this for a moment. "The clubhouse will be full—all members are required for protection votes. They'll ask you questions, probably about your situation and why you need protection. You'll need to be honest with them."

I swallow hard. "Will I need to… tell them everything? About Frank?"

Reid's expression softens. "Only what you're comfortable sharing. They need to understand the threat, but the details are yours to give or keep."

As we walk down the back stairs of the diner, I find myself gripping Reid's hand tighter than necessary. The idea of meeting his brothers, men who've apparently been standing guard over me without my knowledge, sends a fresh wave of anxiety through me.

At the bottom of the stairs, two imposing figures wait in identical stances, arms crossed, backs straight, eyes alert. The resemblance to Reid is startling, which is even stranger because they’re not blood related. Same broad shoulders, same intense blue eyes, same strong jawline. If not for subtle differences, they could be the same person duplicated.

"Lily," Reid says, "these are my brothers. Alex and Jacob."

The one on the left steps forward first. A small scar cuts through his right eyebrow it. His expression softens slightly as he extends his hand.

"Alex," he introduces himself. "Good to finally meet you. Reid hasn't shut up about you for months."

His handshake is firm but careful, as if he's consciously moderating his strength. His blue eyes assess me quickly, taking in details I'm not even aware of showing.

"Ignore him," the second brother says, stepping forward with a gentler demeanor. "I'm Jacob. Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Where Alex exudes coiled energy, Jacob has a quieter intensity. His handshake is equally firm but less evaluating. There's something softer in his eyes, though they’re no less watchful.

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