Page 65 of Thunder's Reckoning
She nodded once, eyes shining in the dim light, and somethin’ in her broke, not loud, not messy, just a small surrender. She leaned into me, slow and cautious, and I wrapped an arm around her, solid, careful. No pressure. Just presence. She fit against me like she’d been built to rest there, her cheek to my chest, her breath warm through my shirt.
We didn’t speak. I just held her.
Minutes stretched into hours, the noise of the clubhouse fading to nothin’. Her breathing evened out first, soft and steady, her body finally lettin’ go in my arms. I shifted only enough to get us onto the bed, pullin’ her close against me, one arm curved protectively around her waist.
She didn’t stir. Didn’t tense. Just let herself be held.
And me? I lay there in the dark, wide awake, breathin’ her in. For once, I didn’t feel the urge to move, to escape, to chase the night. For once, stayin’ put felt like the only thing I ever wanted.
When sleep finally came for me, it came with her in my arms. That’s how I knew—I was already gone.
***
SUNLIGHT HAD JUSTstarted slidin’ through the curtains, soft and golden, when I opened my eyes.
Sable was still curled into my side, her breath warm against my chest, fingers tangled in the hem of my shirt like she’d anchored herself to me sometime in the night. She hadn’t stirred much, before every creak or shift sent her flinchin’, like she expected hands draggin’ her out of sleep.
Not last night.
She’d rested.
With me.
I laid there longer than I should’ve, memorizing the weight of her pressed against me, the way her hand fisted in my shirt like she was hangin’ on for dear life. Like she knew I was the last line standin’ between her and the world that wanted to chew her up.
And maybe I was. Hell, I’d shoulder that for her, flawed, busted, mean as sin if I had to be.
But underneath it all, I was burnin’. That slow, gnawin’ hunger I’d never felt this hard for a woman before—deep, insistent, crawlin’ through muscle and bone. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle. It was raw need, coiled tight in my gut. Every inch of me wanted to flip her beneath me, mark her, make it real clear she wasn’t just hidin’ out in my bed, she belonged there.
The hang-arounds? The sweet butts? They’d never meant a damn thing. A warm body, a quick fix, forgettable the second they walked out the door. But Sable? She was already carved into me. The kind of want that made a man dangerous. The kind that had me thinkin’ about blood on my knuckles and bodies in the dirt if anybody so much as breathed wrong around her.
I forced it down, teeth grit, breath unwavering. She wasn’t ready for that kind of storm. Not yet. So I laid there, still as stone, lettin’ her cling like she needed me calm, while inside, I was already hers in ways she didn’t even understand.
Eventually, I eased out from under her, slow as I could, makin’ sure not to wake her. Grabbed my cut from the back of the chair and slipped into the hallway.
The clubhouse was still and hushed, only the quiet hum of the fridge from the common room and the familiar groan of old floorboards under my boots keepin’ me company.
Didn’t last long.
“Thunder.”
Devil’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip. He rounded the corner already dressed, already focused, like always. Eyes red as coals, locked on me.
“What’s goin’ on?” I asked, fallin’ in beside him without missin’ a beat.
He didn’t speak ‘til we hit the war room. Inside, Chain, Gearhead, and Bolt were already seated, all of ‘em lookin’ like they’d been dragged outta bed with the same bad taste in their mouths.
“Sit,” Devil ordered.
I dropped into the nearest chair, gut tightening under the weight of his tone. Devil picked up a folded piece of paper from the table, slid it my way.
“Couple men showed up at High Voltage late last night asking questions about a young woman and two kids. Didn’t stick around long. Chain says there’s no mistaking who they were looking for.”
“They Cartel?” I asked, already feelin’ the answer claw its way down my spine.
“They looked it,” Devil said, “but it’s worse.”
He turned his phone and showed me the picture, burned into the grainy image like it was branded into the bastard’s skin. An upside-down triangle. A circle on top. An eye inside. Flames crownin’ the whole damn thing.
