“Sass, we’re gonna head to the restroom and get Doll. Given where the guys came from, I’m sure that’s where Tripp sent her. You don’t leave my fuckin’ side, though. If more guys show up, you get to the restroom and lock yourself in.” He hands me a small handgun and nods at me.

I nod back in understanding. Yes, I know how to fire the weapon. Doll and I have spent as many hours shooting as we have shopping. It is the Hellion way of life—control the chaos, command when faced with the extremes, and never be without your brother and your weapon.

Well, I am without my sister right now and it is time to get her.

Finding courage and resolve I never knew I had, I follow Rex to the restroom. I can hear the faint whiz of the shots being fired and the men hitting the ground nearby. The boys may be using silencers on the guns, but it is still evident when you are close by what is going on. Connections will be called, markers used or owed; this mess will be cleaned up without a trace in a matter of hours. If Doll is safe, it is worth it.

Relief washes over me as my best friend comes to the door when I knock and call out to her. I can hear Tripp in the other restroom talking, but the sounds are too muffled to comprehend.

We walk with Doll over to the bikes while we wait for Tripp. Tears are streaming down Doll’s face, and I’m at a loss on how to make this better for her. When Tripp emerges, she finds her calm within the storm with him.

Thinking back to that day gives me chills.

Before we left on the ride, I had decided the biker life wasn’t for me. Stupid teenage fantasies had me read more than there was into the friendship I had formed with Tank. After one hookup the night of the barbeque, things changed for me. Tank’s easy dismissal of me made it clear where I stand with him. It’s more than that, but his rejection confirmed it, club life isn’t for me.

I’m building something solid and long lasting with Nick. He’s not my knight in shining armor, Prince Charming, or any of the stuff fairytales are made of—none of that shit is real anyway. He’s reliable, kind, gentle and attentive. He’s safe. He’s secure. And he wants me. This is what I want—to be the center of someone’s world, not second to a brotherhood, a club.

Why do I still feel there is something missing, though?

Darkness. Shadows. Blackness. Gloom. Sadness. I am engulfed in obscurity, vagueness and murkiness. Oblivion. I am not completely gone, but I’m not altogether here, either.

Lost. Tumbling. Absent. A soft voice comes through; gentle, kind, loving and sad. Her voice, her presence, breaks the numbness consuming me. My girl is here. The light in the dark. The sounds of her, the feel of her, knowing she’s here pulls me through the shades of black. The citrus smell of her invades my senses.