Page 5 of Fury
I'm home. And for the first time in weeks, I fall asleep without checking the locks twice.
Chapter
Two
Livie
My fingers tremble as I apply mascara, nearly poking myself in the eye for the third time. I set the wand down with a frustrated sigh and stare at my reflection. Despite the hours I've spent getting ready, nothing feels right. The black dress is too tight. No, too loose. My hair is too straight. Too curly. Too everything and nothing at all.
"Get it together, Liv," I mutter to myself, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter.
The clock on my phone reads 7:15 PM. The party at the clubhouse started fifteen minutes ago, which means people are already arriving, already wondering where I am. Two years away, and suddenly the thought of walking into that familiar space makes my stomach clench with anxiety.
A knock at the door startles me.
"Honey?" Mom's voice comes through. "You almost ready?"
"Just finishing up," I call back, my voice steadier than I feel.
"Your dad's getting antsy. You know how he is about being fashionably late to his own events."
I can hear the smile in her voice, and it helps center me. Some things never change, like Dad's impatience and Mom's gentle teasing.
"Two minutes," I promise, taking one last look in the mirror.
The woman staring back is both familiar and strange. I've grown up during these two years away. My features have sharpened, lost some of their youthfulness. My eyes hold experiences that the girl who left town couldn't have imagined. But beneath it all, I'm still me.
With a deep breath, I apply a final coat of nude lipstick and open the bathroom door.
Mom's waiting in the hallway, her eyes softening when she sees me. "Oh, sweetheart. You look beautiful."
"Thanks, Mom." I smooth my hands over the fitted black dress nervously. "Not too much?"
"It's perfect." She reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Everyone's going to be so happy to see you."
Downstairs, Dad's pacing by the front door, keys jingling in his hand. He stops when he sees me, his expression shifting from impatience to that look fathers get when they suddenly realize their daughters have grown up.
"There she is," he says gruffly. "Worth the wait."
Dad helps Mom onto his bike, and I climb into my Honda. The boys insisted on escorting me to the clubhouse.
I suspect they're still on edge after learning about my stalker incident.
As we pull away from the house, the rumble of their motorcycles flanking my car is oddly comforting. The short drive to the clubhouse gives me little time to spiral back into anxiety, though my heart rate picks up as we turn onto the familiar road.
The Grim Sinners' compound comes into view, bikes already lined up outside, music and laughter spilling from the open doors. The large brick building with its infamous skull and crossbones sign looms ahead, strings of lights illuminating the parking area.
I park between two Harleys, taking an extra moment to check my lipstick in the rearview mirror. My hand is still trembling slightly.
"You coming, or you planning to live in your car now?" Mason raps on my window. "Hey. They're family. They don't bite."
"I know," I say, opening the door. "It's just been a while."
"Two years isn't that long in MC time." He offers his arm. "Uncle Smiley still tells the same three jokes he's been saying since the beginning of time."
That makes me laugh, and I loop my arm through his gratefully. "Does he still do the one about the biker and the penguin?"
"Every damn time," Mason confirms, guiding me toward the entrance.
