Page 55 of Rampage

I close my eyes, feeling something unfamiliar bloom in my chest. Not quite peace, not yet. But something close to it.

Hope.

"We did it," I whisper against Reid's back, though my words are lost in the rush of wind and engine noise. "We actually did it."

Reid's hand covers mine where it rests against his stomach, a brief squeeze of acknowledgment before returning to the handlebar. The motorcycle leans into a turn, carrying us deeper into the night, away from my past and toward something that feels, for the first time, like justice.

six

Reid

The motorcycle engine thrums beneath us as we navigate the dark country roads, putting miles between us and Frank's house. My hands grip Lily tighter than necessary, partly to keep her secure on the bike, but mostly because I need to feel her—alive, safe, here with me.

My blood still boils with a rage so pure it scares me. When I saw Frank standing there on the porch, every muscle in my body screamed to attack. I wanted to feel his bones break under my fists, to watch the light fade from his eyes as I choked the life from him. The urge was overwhelming, something I've never felt before, not even in my most violent club confrontations.

I could have done it. Should have done it. The world would be better without Frank Dawson in it.

But Lily was there, pressed against me, trembling with fear and courage. I couldn't let her witness that side of me, not yet. Couldn't risk her seeing me become the monster that would destroy her monster. The look in her eye when she stood up to Frank, when she found her voice, that's worth more than the satisfaction of ending him.

For now.

But I'm coming back. Frank just doesn't know it yet. Once Lily is truly safe, once the evidence is secured and the other girls are found, I'll return to finish what I started tonight. The club has ways of handling men like Frank, ways that leave no traces, no questions. It's just a matter of time.

The thought should disturb me. I've taken an oath to heal, to save lives. But some cancers can only be cut out completely.

We crest a hill, and I feel Lily's arms tighten around my waist as she presses her cheek against my back. Her trust in me is a gift I don't deserve but will protect with everything I have.

The rendezvous point appears ahead, an abandoned gas station where the rest of our convoy waits. I slow the bike, pulling into the gravel lot where three vehicles are parked with engines running. Mason steps out of his truck, giving us a quick nod.

"Any trouble?" he asks as I kill the engine.

"Clean getaway," I reply, helping Lily dismount. Her legs wobble slightly, adrenaline wearing off. I keep my arm around her waist, steadying her. "Jenkins?"

"Lost him at the county line," Christopher says, approaching from his position as lookout. "Police chatter suggests they've set up roadblocks on the main highways, but they're looking for a woman alone or a couple in a car."

"Not a motorcycle with club escort," Mason adds with grim satisfaction.

I guide Lily toward Mason's truck. "We need to get back to town, get this lockbox somewhere secure."

"And Lily somewhere safe," Aiden adds, materializing from the shadows. His presence surprises me, as my father rarely participates in field operations anymore.

"Dad," I acknowledge, relief washing over me at his presence. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Some situations require the old guys," he says, eyeing the backpack still strapped to my back. "Is that it?"

I nod, slipping the pack from my shoulders. "Lockbox, just like Lily described. Untouched."

Lily sways slightly beside me, exhaustion and the emotional aftermath of tonight's events catching up with her. I wrap my arm more securely around her waist, drawing her against my side.

"You did good," I murmur against her hair. "So damn good."

My father's eyes soften as he watches us. "Let's get you both back to the clubhouse. Lane's waiting with Tiffany. We need to document everything properly before opening that box."

I hesitate, looking down at Lily's pale face. "She needs rest, not more questioning."

"I'm okay," Lily says, her voice stronger than I expected. She straightens her spine, squaring her shoulders with quiet determination. "The sooner we process the evidence, the sooner this ends."

Pride swells in my chest, fierce and unexpected. This woman—this survivor—continues to amaze me with her resilience.

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