Page 88 of Break Me

Sam stiffens beside me. “Knox⁠—”

My brother cuts him off with a look. “I told her what happened because it already happened. That doesn’t make her part of club business going forward.”

“I’m already part of it,” I argue. “Whether you want me to be or not.”

“You’re part of what Ridgeback did,” Knox replies. “Not what we’re going to do about it.”

The distinction lands hard.

My father shifts slightly but stays silent, letting this be between us.

Knox keeps his eyes on me. “You don’t get briefed. You don’t get plans. And you don’t get put in the middle of anything going on in the club.”

I feel Sam’s grip tighten under the table.

“She’s my wife,” he says quietly. “If something is going down, she deserves⁠—”

“She deserves to be alive,” Knox snaps. Then he reins it in, breath measured. “And the best way I know how to do that is to keep her out of it.”

There’s nothing left to argue. Whether I like it or not, he’s drawn a clear line.

“Fine.” The word tastes bitter. “But don’t confuse silence with acceptance.”

Knox doesn’t respond, which tells me everything.

Dinner carries on after that. The lines have been drawn. We all know where we stand now, and somehow that feels easier than pretending everything's fine.

Later, after the plates are cleared and the kitchen is cleaned up, the night settles around the cottage once more. Sam hangs back while Knox and my father drift out onto the porch.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

I smile against his mouth. “I am now.”

His arms tighten just a little. “That’s all I need to hear.”

When we finally pull apart, my father and Knox are already heading toward their bikes. The cicadas are still buzzing, but slower now, less frantic than they were a month ago. Summer isn’t over, but it isn’t endless either.

My father pauses at the edge of the drive and looks back at me, his gaze lingering.

“Be safe,” he says.

“I will.”

Knox settles onto his bike but doesn't start it right away. Instead, he looks at Sam.

“Come by the clubhouse tomorrow,” he says. “We need to talk.”

Sam nods once in acknowledgment.

The bikes rumble to life one after the other. We watch until their taillights disappear between the trees, the sound of the engines fading into the distance.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. Eventually, Sam’s hand finds mine.

The strength in him is quiet, but I know it’s enough to carry us through whatever may lie in our future.

Samuel

I pull my bike into my usual spot and kill the engine. The moment I step inside, conversations falter.