Page 15 of Firefly
“Midnight,” they both say in unison.
Two days.
Two days until I get to put my hands on the boy warming my side of Ophelia’s bed.
“You good?” Ryder asks, and I laugh.
“No… I’m fucking fantastic.” I grin, and Ryker’s eyes light up knowing shit is about to get real.
“Don’t kill him in the cage. He is a member of the founding families,” he warns as I head towards the office door.
“What if I kill him outside the cage?” I ask.
The twins laugh this time.Genuine and dangerous.
“See? That’s exactly why we like you,” Ryker says, and I shake my head with a grin then walk back through the chaos of the club house.
But all I can think about is Ophelia, and Brayden touching her. The image burns through me so violently I almost lose control. Her father took everything from me.
My future.
My freedom.
My girl.
Now it’s my turn.
And this time… I’m not the same boy they buried three years ago.
Ophelia
“Chasing Cars-Snow Patrol”
The note ruins me. Not instantly.
At first, I just stand here staring at the familiar handwriting while my brain desperately tries to make sense of something impossible.
My fingers tremble so violently the paper shakes between them.
I’ve missed you, Firefly. Did you miss me?
No. No, no.
This has to be a joke.
A sick prank.
Maybe Brayden is trying to torment me again, or I’m finally losing my mind after carrying this grief around for three years like chains wrapped around my throat.
Hayden is dead. He has to be. I watched them lower the casket into the ground because my father refused to let me attend the wake. I cried myself unconscious for weeks afterward. I nearly died trying to follow him.
Dead people don’t leave notes on pillows!
My chest tightens painfully as I search my room again.
Closet. Bathroom. Balcony. Under the bed. Nothing. No broken locks, no footprints, no sign anyone was ever here—except the note.
I clutch it against my chest and sink slowly onto the edge of my bed. “Hayden…” I whisper.
