Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
The idea landed hard.
“I’d be giving up visibility,” I said automatically. “Momentum.”
“You’d be choosing yourself,” she countered. “And him.”
I stared at the steam curling from my tea.
“What if it doesn’t work?” I asked quietly.
Char didn’t hesitate. “Then you come back. But if you don’t try, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what might have been.”
I swallowed thickly. “What if he feels like I’m sacrificing too much?”
She smiled softly. “Then you remind him that love isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about alignment.”
Her words settled deep in my belly. She was right. When did my baby sister get so smart?
That night, back at Dante’s place, I found him on the balcony, staring out at nothing. “I talked to Char,” I explained.
He turned, alert immediately. “You okay?”
“I’m better than okay,” I replied. “I’m thinking.”
That got his attention. “I don’t want you leaving like this is temporary,” I opened up. “Like I’m a detour.”
“You’re not,” he replied fiercely.
“Then don’t make decisions without me,” I stated. “And don’t decide that North Carolina and me are something to choose between. Don’t make it me or the Saints because Dante you are a Saint’s Outlaw and I wouldn’t change that about you.”
He went still.
“I could work remotely,” I continued. “At least for a while. Transition. See where this goes without a countdown clock hanging over us.”
Hope flickered in his eyes and fear. It was a genuine reaction.
“You don’t have to give this up for me.”
“I want to,” I said. “But I need to know you’re not already half gone.”
He crossed the space between us and cupped my face, forehead resting against mine. “I was trying to protect you,” he admitted. “From my world. From the mess that comes with it.”
“I was chained in a basement because of my world,” I reminded softly. “Danger doesn’t belong to one zip code or one lifestyle.”
He exhaled a shaky laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’m not asking for forever tonight,” I said. “I’m asking for honesty. And the chance to build something without fear making the decisions.”
His arms wrapped around me, tight and grounding. “Then,” he said quietly. “Come with me. Let’s figure it out together.”
I held on like it was a promise.
Because this time, I wasn’t running from fear.
I was choosing love—with my eyes open.
Chapter 23
Nita
I expected North Carolina to feel temporary. Like a borrowed sweater, warm enough, but not mine. Instead, it wrapped around me and fit in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
The drive down was quiet, the kind of silence that doesn’t press but allows space to think. Dante checked the mirrors too often, tension still wired into his shoulders, like he expected the past to catch up to us on the highway. I watched him from the passenger seat of the moving truck, this man who’d crossed state lines fueled by fear and love and violence to get to me and now worried about something as small as whether I’d hate the humidity. His bike on a trailer, my house loaded in this box truck we were really making a go of this and it didn’t feel uneasy. Matter of fact, it felt almost perfect.
“You okay?” he asked for the third time.
“I’m not going to disappear,” I said gently.
His jaw flexed. “I know.”
But he didn’t. Not yet. Dreadnought announced itself subtly—no sign, no grand entrance. Just familiar roads to him, unfamiliar to me, lined with trees that looked older than most of the buildings back home. The air felt thicker. Slower. Like the town didn’t rush to prove itself to anyone.
The clubhouse came into view and I felt Dante shift beside me. This was the part he’d been dreading. The collision of worlds. I had tiptoed around his world when he called me about Hampton Stanley, now I was immersing myself into it.
I stepped out of the truck and didn’t flinch. That seemed to surprise him.
The men were already there—Tower leaning against his bike, Gonzo mid-laugh, Dippy perched on the clubhouse steps like he was holding court. They went quiet when they saw me.
Not hostile. Assessing.
I walked forward first.
“Hi,” I greeted. “I’m Nita.”
Gonzo blinked. “Think we already did this before, Ms. Banks.”
“That was a different situation. Now I’m here not as Juanita Banks, investigator. But as Nita so Gonzo, I’m Nita.”
The man grinned. “Well damn. You’re really made for this shit.”
Tower nodded once, respectful. “Ma’am.”
“Please don’t call me that,” I replied. “I’ll start looking for a badge.”
That broke the ice. Someone laughed. Someone else relaxed. Dante’s shoulders dropped a fraction, like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it.
They didn’t treat me like glass. They didn’t test me either. They just accepted me. Like I was another truth they had already folded into their understanding of Dante or as they called him Loco.
The house Dante brought me to wasn’t flashy. A cabin halfway up a mountain facing the Tennessee state line. Clean lines. Worn leather couch. The kind of place that felt lived in, not staged. He hovered as I unpacked, watching me take up space in his space like he was afraid it might trigger an alarm.