Chapter 14

Ivy

I wake up just before noon feeling pretty damn good. My talk with Stone last night cleared the air.

We finally got our shit together and decided to give our friendship another shot. As I stretch, a smile creeps onto my face. It's the kind of happiness that's been MIA for way too long.

I zombie-walk to the kitchen, following the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I'm glad I remembered to program it last night. As I pour myself a cup, I can't stop thinking about how wild it is that so much has changed so fast.

Phone in hand, I flop onto the couch and start doom-scrolling through social media. At this hour, I'm lowkey curious about what's up with everyone I used to know. It's not like I'm thirsty for drama or anything—everyone I actually give a shit about is right here in Opey. But still, it's a mindless way to pass the time while my brain boots up.

A pic catches my eye and makes me smile. It's Sage, sandwiched between her fearless squad. They're all flipping off the camera, tipsy grins plastered across their faces like they own the night.

It's pure Sage energy, and I smile. She's living her best life, throwing punches at the past without looking back. I love that for her.

My phone starts vibrating and ringing in my hand, and even though it startles me, I welcome the distraction. I recognize the number, so I pick it up with a smile. "Hey, Hazel."

"Oh, Ivy! Thank God you answered. I didn't wake you, did I?"

I shake my head even though she can't see me. "Nah. Just having coffee and doomscrolling. What's up?"

"I'm at the club," she sighs, and I can practically hear her rubbing her temples. "We're unloading two shipments, but the third one's MIA, and no one's picking up the damn phone."

I down the rest of my coffee, knowing my afternoon of bingeing Netflix is about to be canceled. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to head to Dallas and pick up the shipment. It's too much for your car, but you can take one of the trucks. You sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Hazel. I'm happy to help." I toss my phone on the bed and grab some jeans and a tee from my closet. "I'll swing by for the truck as soon as I'm dressed. You can give me the details when I get there."

"Thanks so much, Ivy. I knew I could count on you."

I smile at the compliment. It feels good knowing the people I care about can hit me up when they need me. I lace up my black work boots, snag my bag and charger, and head to the Barn Door. Hazel's waiting outside with a stack of papers, keys to a blue pickup, and some cash for gas and food. "I'll call if there's any drama."

"Yep. But there won't be. I hope. If so, channel your inner bitch because we need that shipment. Tonight."

"I'm on it, Hazel. No sweat." I hop in the truck, crank up my favorite country rock playlist, and hit the interstate, vibing with the solo drive.

My mind clears with each mile, and soon I'm feeling pretty damn good, belting out lyrics like I'm headlining my own show. Traffic's not too bad, so I make it to the warehouse in no time, still riding the high of my imaginary concert.

I pull into the unloading zone, and a big bruiser approaches the cab. "What can I do for ya, sweetheart?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and offer the guy a smile as I climb down and head for the office. "I'm here to pick up a shipment you didn't deliver to my boss for some reason." He follows me inside as I give him the details and watch as his eyes light up. I like to establish the territory from the get-go.

"Oh, yeah. You work there?"

Here we go."Look, man, I'm just here to pick up the boxes. Do you have them, or are you giving me a refund?" Hazel had no reason to worry about my inner boss bitch. She's always ready to go. "Well?"

"Just give me a minute," he grunts before typing something into the old computer on the desk. "It's around back. Did you bring a dolly?"

I laugh. "No, because my boss paid for delivery, so the very least you can do is load it up for me and refund the delivery charge." I cross my arms, ignoring the way his gaze settles on my tits, even though they're covered up.

"Fine," he grumbles. "Pull around to the service entrance and back into the middle bay."

I flash a victorious grin even though he's no longer paying attention to me. "Thanks so much."

Twenty-five minutes later, I'm back on the road, blasting a full country playlist and belting out the lyrics even louder, maybe going a little too fast. The wind is whipping through my hair, and I grin with the sheer pleasure of the open road.

After a quick pit stop at burger joint too far from Opey to make it a regular, I'm feeling pretty damn good and heading home.

A couple of motorcycles zoom past me, followed by a few more. It reminds me of the group rides the Reckless Bastards, like Gray, take with the prospects when the sun is out and the roads are clear.

The miles fly by, and before I know it, I'm just a couple of miles from the Opey exit when I notice three bikes blocking the first exit into town. I slow down a little because there's something up ahead.

Soon, I have to come to a dead stop. The truck's brakes screech to a halt because four more bikes block the road. "Shit. Fuck. Shit." This isn't good. My heart hammers in my chest as I grab my phone with sweaty hands and hit call.

Stone answers. "Hey, Ivy. What's up?"

"I'm at exit 354b, surrounded by bikers. I don't know who they are, but they have me boxed in."

"Fuck," he mutters just above a whisper. "Don't get out of the fucking truck, and don't let them get too close. You strapped?"

I nod, then remember he can't see me. "Yeah."

"Good. Plow through those assholes. If they start shooting, shoot back, but keep your foot on the gas. I'm on my way. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it." My grip tightens on my phone.

"Good. Now, what are you gonna do?"

I only have a few seconds to make up my mind, but when I glance in the rearview, I see two guys get off their bikes and walk in my direction, their faces obscured by helmets. "I'm going to plow through these motherfuckers and stay on the interstate."

"I'll be right there," he promises before the call ends.

"Okay, Ivy," I say to myself. "You got this." I inhale deeply, letting it out slowly as I fish the gun from the glove box and slam my foot on the gas, sending the truck flying forward and into the bikes, the impact jolting me in my seat. I don't stop to check for damage. I just punch it and fly the fuck away from them, my heart in my throat.

Of course, the other bikers are right on my ass, surrounding me on all sides. One of them kicks the side of the truck. I swerve left and right, trying to hit him and make more room for myself. At this point, I don't fucking know what I'm doing other than trying to get away.

Shoot, dammit.I should shoot, but I'm too busy keeping my eyes on the road, white-knuckling the steering wheel. I press the gas harder, forcing the bikes in front to move or risk getting run over, the truck's engine roaring in response.

It feels like time's frozen, though I'm sure it's just a few minutes since I'm not even at the next exit yet. My palms are slick with sweat, and my heart beats so loud it's drowning out the music.

I keep my eyes forward, but I hear the loud roar of more bikes, and my heart kicks into overdrive.

"Fuck!" I shout at the hood ornament. I risk a glance in the rearview and sigh in relief when I see the telltale green of Stone's bike and the black and chrome chopper beside him. It's Gray. "Shit."

I'm not sure what to do, so I keep driving forward, my foot heavy on the gas. A few shots ring out, making me flinch, but I don't dare look back, not until the bikes flanking me disappear.

Finally, they back off. I slow down and glance behind me, spotting a few overturned bikes and a couple of limping bikers. No one is dead, but they're hurt, and more importantly, they're retreating. I blink once or twice, and they're gone.

I pull over and sit in the truck for a moment, hands trembling slightly as the adrenaline starts to wear off. That was way too close. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart before finally stepping from the truck.

Stone dismounts first, and his long legs eat up the distance between us. I leap for him, wrapping my arms around him in relief and gratitude.

"Stone." I squeeze him tight, and he squeezes back even tighter, his strong arms a comfort. But there's something else there, too, a flutter in my chest that I can't ignore.

Fuck my life.

"You all right, Ivy?" His voice is low, rumbling in his chest.

I nod against him and inhale his familiar scent—sandalwood and cedar—as my pulse slowly returns to normal, the adrenaline starting to fade. Pulling back, I spot Gray with a look on his face I can't quite decipher, but instantly, I feel guilty.

My heart's pulling me in two different directions. I push away from Stone's hold and move to Gray, needing his reassurance but also trying to convince myself that he's the one I love.

"Gray," I sigh and fall against his chest, the leather of his kutte cool against my cheek. He wraps his arms around me before dropping a kiss to the top of my head.

"Ivy, babe." His voice is rough, and he pulls me close, the worry evident in his embrace. But as much as I care for Gray, something's missing. The something I just felt with Stone.

"I'm okay," I assure him, tilting my head back to look up into his big brown eyes. I give him a small smile. "I was just a little scared, you know?"

"That's okay," he assures me with a smile as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks to you," I tell him and look over my shoulder at Stone's blue gaze, the intensity of it making my breath catch. "Both of you."

The tension between the three of us is thick, and I feel myself being pulled in two different directions. I care for Gray, but now that Stone's home, I can't deny my connection with him.

But I don't want to hurt either of them, so I simply ignore it, focusing on being safe.

"Of course," Stone growls, looking unhappy and guilty, his jaw clenched tight. "I need to get back to the ranch," he grumbles as he stomps to his bike.

I chalk it up to worry over my safety and guilt because he thinks this is somehow his fault, even though it's not.

But I wonder if there's more to it, if he feels the same pull I do. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

I'm with Gray, and that's how it has to be, even if my heart's not fully in it anymore.