Page 36 of Rampage

Before I can process the information, Reid guides me toward the meeting room at the back, where voices drift through the partially open door. As we approach, my palms grow clammy. What if this lawyer doesn't believe me? What if she can't help?

"Breathe," Reid murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

Lane stands as we enter, his imposing figure commanding attention even in the casual setting. Beside him sits a woman who can only be Tiffany. She’s sharp-eyed with sleek dark hair and a tailored suit that screams professional success.

"Lily," Lane nods, "good to see you again. This is my daughter, Tiffany."

The woman extends her hand, her grip firm and confident. "I've heard a lot about you in the last twelve hours."

"All good, I hope," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.

Tiffany's smile is calculating but not unkind. "Let's sit. We have a lot to cover."

Reid pulls out a chair for me, taking the seat beside me. His thigh presses against mine under the table, a silent reminder of his presence.

Lane remains standing, arms crossed over his chest. "Before we get into the legal details, I want to be clear about the club's position." His eyes meet mine directly. "We're going all in on this. Full protection, full resources."

My throat tightens with unexpected emotion. "Thank you."

Tiffany opens a sleek laptop, all business. "I've already filed motions to challenge the warrant. Given the circumstances—your age, your employment records here, the suspicious timing—I'm confident we can get it dismissed."

"How long will that take?" Reid asks, his hand finding mine.

"It’s unknown, but hopefully not that long. I don’t think you should go back for the wedding, it’s just not safe and it's not worth the emotional toll it would have on you." She taps her pen against the table. "But in the meantime, we need to ensure your safety." She pauses, her professional demeanor lessens as she notices my white-knuckled grip on Reid's hand.

Tiffany's expression changes, her features relaxing from their sharp focus. She sets her pen down and leans forward, her voice gentler than before.

"Lily, I know this is overwhelming," she says, her tone warmer. "But I want you to understand something. You have an entire club behind you now. These men?" She gestures toward Reid and her father. "They don't do anything halfway. When they commit to protecting someone, it's absolute."

The shift in her approach catches me off guard. This woman, who moments ago seemed all business and intimidating competence, now looks at me with genuine concern.

"We're going to make this right," she continues, reaching across the table to touch my arm lightly. "The warrant, the false charges, we'll handle all of it. I promise you won't face this alone."

The door opens behind us, and two women enter. One is tall with blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing jeans and a fitted t-shirt with quiet confidence. The other is petite with light brown hair and striking green eyes, her presence somehow both soft and strong.

"Perfect timing," Tiffany says, smiling at the newcomers. "Lily, I wanted you to meet some people who understand what it means to be connected to the club." She gestures to the blonde-haired woman. "This is Elle, Christopher's old lady."

Elle approaches with a warm smile, pulling me into an unexpected hug before I can prepare myself. "Welcome to the family," she says, squeezing gently before releasing me.

"And this is Meadow," Tiffany continues, indicating the other woman. "She's with Mason."

Meadow's smile is beautiful, her eyes kind as she takes the seat on my other side. "We thought you might like to talk to someone who isn't covered in leather and testosterone," she says with a conspiratorial wink.

“I remember you girls coming into the bakery and diner. Especially you, Elle. You had a cupcake craving, if I remember correctly.”

She busts out laughing and I join in with her. “To say the least. I’ve wanted to approach you for a while, but I had some tough things happening in my life during that time.”

Tiffany turns her head and Meadow takes her hand, squeezing. I want to hug her, not able to bear the thoughts of her going through anything bad.

In the background I notice Mason and Christopher both watching their ole ladies like a hawk, but the best thing is Reid next to them watching me.

"Now, I think we've covered enough for one morning. You ladies should get some lunch, clear your heads," Tiffany suggests.

Elle stands, smoothing her jeans. "There's a new bistro downtown we thought you might like. Just us girls."

"Sounds perfect," I say, grateful for the chance to process everything away from the intensity of the clubhouse.

Reid's posture changes instantly, his shoulders tensing as he straightens in his chair. "I don't think that's it’s good idea."

---