Page 10 of Ace's Legacy
I'm breathing too hard to form complete sentences, the adrenaline making my words come out in gasps. "Man on the road—Wilder—said to tell you—Vultures MC coming—six bikes—"
"Breathe, Sarah," Ryan says, his voice suddenly calm even as his eyes squint. "Slowly. Tell me exactly what happened."
I force myself to take a deep breath. "I pulled over a few miles down the road. A man who said his name was Wilder stopped and told me to come back here immediately. He said to tell Reaper and Ghost that Vultures MC are coming. Six motorcycles, heavily armed."
Viper, standing nearby, curses colorfully. "Vultures MC. Goddamn it."
"Who's this?" asks a tall, bearded man, stepping forward with an air of authority.
Ryan straightens. "I’ll explain everything later, Reaper. We've got bigger problems."
So, this is Reaper, the president Wilder mentioned. His eyes hang over me for a moment before shifting to another man.
"Ghost!" he calls over his shoulder. "We've got company coming!"
A man with cold, haunted eyes steps out of the clubhouse. "How many?" he asks, his voice unnervingly quiet.
"Six, according to Wilder," Ryan answers. "He sent Sarah back to warn us."
Ghost's eyes flick to me briefly before he starts issuing orders. "Blade, Viper, get the heavy artillery. Ace, secure the perimeter. Everyone else, positions."
The calm, almost gentle man I was talking to just twenty minutes ago has disappeared, replaced by someone hard and focused. The transformation is jarring. Ryan is gone. This is Ace, the outlaw biker.
All around me, men spring into action. They move with efficiency, pulling hidden weapons from beneath floorboards, behind framed pictures, inside cabinets. Handguns, shotguns, and what look like military-grade automatic weapons appear as if by magic.
"Get inside," Ryan—no, Ace—says to me, already backing away. "All the way to the back room. Lock the door."
"Ryan—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"It's Ace in here," he says sharply. "And you need to move now. Find Evelyn. Dark hair, young. She'll know where to go."
Before I can respond, he's gone, grabbing a shotgun from Viper and moving toward the front windows.
I stand frozen for a moment, watching these men transform into soldiers before my eyes. The clubhouse, which seemed merely rough-around-the-edges before, now reveals itself as the fortress it truly is.
"You must be Sarah."
I turn to find a young woman—younger than me, maybe twenty or twenty-one—standing in the doorway to the back of the clubhouse. She's beautiful in a delicate way, with long dark hair and knowing eyes that seem too old for her face.
"How did you—"
"Viper mentioned you." She glances past me at the men preparing for battle. "I'm Evelyn. You should come with me."
Something in her calm demeanor grounds me. I follow her through the main room, past the bar and pool tables, down a hallway lined with doors.
"In here," she says, opening the last door on the left. Inside is what appears to be a storeroom, but reinforced. Steel door, no windows, concrete walls. "It's the safest place if shooting starts."
I step inside, noticing the supplies stacked against one wall—water, non-perishable food, first aid kits. "This happens often?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
Evelyn's smile is grim. "Often enough that we're prepared." She sits on a stack of boxes, gesturing for me to take the only chair. "So, you're Ace's girl?"
"I'm not—" I begin, then stop. What am I to Ryan—to Ace? The mother of his child, yes, but beyond that? "We're not together."
She nods, seemingly unsurprised. "But you came to see him today. Must be important."
I place a hand over my stomach without thinking. Evelyn's eyes follow the movement, and understanding dawns on her face.
"Oh," she says softly. "That is important."
