Night Talks

Maeve's P.O.V.

The empty dismissal in those green eyes hurt far worse than the physical violence I had braced myself for. The diner around me faded into a dull blur. The clinking plates, the hum of the old neon sign, the chatter of the regulars—it all washed away beneath the ringing in my ears. The crushing sight of Lachlan standing mere feet away plunged me straight back into a memory I had spent over a decade trying to bury.

"My mom is going to kill you if she finds out you were sneaking over here in the middle of the night," I whispered to the empty air.

The faint scrape of boots against the wooden lattice outside my bedroom window was my only warning. A moment later, Lachlan shifted his weight onto the sloped roof and took a seat right next to me. The night air was biting, but I barely felt the cold. I had my knees pulled tight to my chest, my arms locked around my shins. My chin rested on my kneecaps as hot, silent tears streamed down my face. I hadn’t been able to stop crying since the devastating news broke that morning. Kaelen was leaving.

"She won't find out," Lachlan said. His voice was a low rumble in the dark.

Silence settled between us. I stared out at the neighboring houses, my vision blurring. My mother and I lived in a tiny, simple one-story home. The lattice attached to the siding was just sturdy enough to let us climb up to the roof. I came up here to think whenever the walls of my bedroom felt too tight.

Lachlan always possessed an uncanny ability to find me no matter where I hid. I had no idea how he managed it. He lived on the club's sprawling property near their main clubhouse, a solid twenty-minute walk from my neighborhood. You couldn't see my house from his. I never asked him how he always knew my exact location. I was too afraid that questioning his methods would make him stop showing up.

I hated being alone. The very thought of sitting by myself made my skin crawl. Ever since I met these five boys, I dreaded every single second of isolation. I didn't understand how normal people needed space or wanted a moment to breathe. I needed the noise. I needed their presence.

I sniffled and wiped my running nose on the back of my hand.

"He promised he'd write to you," Lachlan said softly. He reached out, his calloused fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "He'll text you all the time once we get you a phone. He'll come back to visit, too. They're still part of the club. This isn't forever."

Hearing his slight, comforting Scottish accent wrap around the words sent a shiver down my spine. I was grateful the shadows hid my face. I couldn't handle him teasing me about the effect his voice had on me. Not tonight. Lachlan wasn't a mean guy, but he had a way of flustering me that left my head spinning.

"It feels like a death sentence," I muttered. My voice cracked. "Kaelen won't be around anymore. I can't picture life without him. No more jokes, no more watching him train at the gym, no more of that infectious smile."

Lachlan shifted closer. He wrapped his strong arms around my shaking shoulders and pulled me flush against his solid chest. My body went limp. I let my legs fall to the side as he pressed my head against his collarbone. I grabbed a fistful of his dark shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline as a fresh wave of heartbreak washed over me. His quiet, steady presence anchored my spiraling emotions.

"You're going to make me jealous if you keep crying over him like this," Lachlan murmured, trying to tease me.

On any other day, I would have laughed. Lachlan was never the joking type. He was the kind of boy who communicated volumes with a single hard glare. I was the only person he ever joked with, the only one he bothered stringing more than five words together for.

But tonight, I couldn't laugh. I felt hollowed out. Kaelen promised he would never lose contact with me, but a dark pit in my stomach insisted this was the end. My family couldn't afford a cell phone. Kaelen said he would write until Lachlan could buy me one, that he would call the other boys so we could talk, that he would return for summers and holidays.

I just didn't believe it.

"Kaelen wouldn't want you to be upset like this, Ember," Lachlan said. He practically begged me to stop crying.

I released a long, shaky breath and forced myself to focus on the rhythm of Lachlan's hand slowly rubbing up and down my back. His touch was a grounding weight. Eventually, the harsh sobbing stopped, though quiet tears still slipped down my cheeks. We stayed like that for a long time under the night sky, my head tucked against his chest, his arms locked around me.

"You still have us, Ember," he said. I relished the sound of that nickname. "You aren't alone."

"I know," I replied, my throat raw. "But it still makes me feel devastated."

"What can I do to make this better?" he asked.

I wanted to tell him to bring Kaelen back, but I knew he couldn't. I knew it tore him up inside to see me this upset. "Tell me something nice," I asked, tilting my head up slightly to break the heavy mood. "Tell me about your future plans with the club. You still want to take over for your dad as prez?"

I shifted my weight, turning my body so I could rest my head comfortably on his shoulder. Lachlan adjusted his grip, leaning back on the slanted roof and taking me with him. We snuggled together under the cold air, staring up at the dusting of stars scattered across the sky.

"Well, since we're club kids, the timeline is pretty rigid," Lachlan began, his voice rumbling beneath my ear. "We start prospecting when we hit sixteen. Then we can either earn our patches and become official members at eighteen, or the table might make us wait until we're twenty like the rest of the guys."

I knew a bit about the process. Most guys prospected for two long years, doing the grunt work. Sometimes they patched in early if they proved their loyalty on a run. Talon had explained the basics to me over ice cream a few months ago. I was curious about their hidden world.

"I think my dad will send us on an official run when we all turn eighteen," Lachlan continued. "I'll be nineteen by then. So will Kaelen. I really think Kaelen will come back and be part of the club here. The five of us can go on a run together."

"You five make a really good team," I told him. I turned my head to offer him a small, genuine smile.

Lachlan turned to meet my gaze. Our faces were separated by mere inches in the dark. He lifted a hand, gently cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed across my skin. The hard lines of his face softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Lachlan rarely smiled for anyone else. He always kept his edges razor-sharp for the rest of the world, but he softened them just for me.

"I think we're all mostly excited about earning our road names," he said softly.

My smile grew, breaking through the melancholy. I beamed at him, and the sight pulled a low chuckle from his chest.

"Go on, say it," he urged.

"I cannot wait to hear what kind of cool names you guys get!" I babbled happily, my sadness momentarily forgotten. "I bet they're going to be the coolest. I bet everyone will call Grayson 'Maniac' or something like that. He always gets called that when he gets into trouble. I bet Kaelen will be Gargoyle. I have no idea about the rest of you, but I can't wait!"

I squealed at the end, a little more excited than I should have been. Lachlan laughed, dropping his hand from my cheek. His smile widened, and my heart fluttered. I loved spending these quiet moments alone with him.

"You named Kaelen Gargoyle, you do know that, right?" he teased.

"No, I named him the Steel Gargoyle," I corrected him. "It's his stage name."

"Stage name," Lachlan grumbled playfully. "What if he goes pro and actually goes by that name?"

I shrugged, turning my gaze back up to the stars. "If that's what he wants, then... I just want him to be happy. All of you, actually."

"You make us happy," he replied without missing a beat.

I looked back at him, my heart full of innocent affection. "Do you promise to be my best friend forever?" I asked.

Instantly, the warmth vanished from the air.

Lachlan’s face fell. The rare, soft smile evaporated, replaced by a mask of cold stone. His green eyes turned terrifyingly hard, flashing with an intensity that sent a jolt of pure alarm straight through my core.

"No," he answered bluntly. He looked away from me, his jaw clenching tight.

My chest ached with immediate, crushing confusion. The rejection stung like a physical blow.

"Oh," I whispered, dropping my gaze to my lap.

Lachlan reached out and placed a single, firm finger under my chin. He forced my head up, demanding I meet his intense, burning gaze.

"One day, we are going to be much more than that," he told me.

More? How? In what way? What does that even mean? The weight behind his words was suffocating. I was thirteen years old. I was too afraid to ask what he meant. I was too terrified of the answer, too afraid to get my hopes up only to have them crushed.

Looking back now from the present, standing in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the diner, I was profoundly glad I never asked. I knew exactly how toxic that ominous promise had turned out to be.

Twelve years later, I stood trembling near the back office, my heart hammering relentlessly against my ribs. The clatter of the kitchen filtered through the thin swinging door, but all I could hear was the rush of blood roaring in my ears. My breathing came in short, jagged gasps. My fingers gripped the edge of a nearby counter to keep my knees from buckling.

The door creaked open. Miriam slipped into the cramped hallway, her brow creased with deep concern.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "I saw you and that hot-as-hell biker guy staring at each other. I thought you two were going to go at it right in the middle of the diner."

Panic spiraled through my mind, dark and choking. The words barely registered over the roaring in my head. If Miriam noticed the tension, did he?

Are the other four boys here too? What could they possibly be doing in a small town in Nebraska? They lived in California. Their club ran the West Coast. They had no business being in the Midwest. They couldn't possibly be here just for me.

The contrast between the past and the present made my stomach churn. Once upon a time, the protective, possessive love of those five boys was the only thing that made me feel safe in a cold world. I had craved their attention. Now, the mere thought of them tracking me down filled me with absolute terror. My deep-seated trauma response kicked in, throwing my brain straight into flight mode.

I desperately clung to the fragile, painful hope that Lachlan truly hadn't recognized me. I wore a shapeless uniform, my hair was a different color, and I looked exhausted. It had been years. I needed to rationalize this to survive. He had probably forgotten all about my existence. To a man like him, an enforcer for a notorious motorcycle club, a waitress in a roadside diner was just a ghost.

"Mae... are you alright? You're crying," Miriam said softly. She reached out, swiping a stray, terrified tear from my cheek.

I flinched at the touch, then forced my tense shoulders to drop. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, filling my burning lungs with the scent of stale coffee.

"Miriam, can you please take that table for me?" I asked. My voice shook, betraying the raw terror crawling under my skin.

"Sure, sweetie," she replied, clearly concerned by my pale face.

I nodded stiffly. I just needed to survive a couple more hours. I repeated the mantra in my head, a frantic drumbeat of survival. As long as Lachlan continued not to recognize me, I could pretend everything was fine. I could keep my head down and finish my shift in hiding.

My mind raced, formulating a desperate escape plan. The second work was over, I would slip out the back door and go straight to my small apartment. I would grab my cat, Peanut, load her into the carrier, and disappear into the night. Most of my belongings were already packed into duffel bags, sitting by the door in preparation for this exact nightmare scenario. This would be the first time I traveled with a pet, but we could do it. We had to.

It was time to leave yet another town behind. I would drive until the gas tank hit empty, and then I would keep going. I absolutely refused to let my freedom be taken away from me ever again.