WANTING HER

SONYA

PRESENT

I’m back.

Not exactly back yet — not standing in the middle of Wanted Town, not walking through those heavy clubhouse doors — but I’m on my way.

Three years.

Three years since I left.

I haven’t seen them.

Not Rafe.

Not Kace.

Not even Gravefather.

Just Jack.

He came to see me every single month. No excuses. No missed visits. Rain, snow, exams, patched meetings — it didn’t matter.

Every. Single. Month.

And maybe that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.

The others? They called.

They texted.

They checked in.

But never face to face.

Never close enough to feel.

Now?

Now I’m going back.

Back to Wanted Town.

Back to Iron Havoc.

Back to the family that isn’t exactly the same anymore.

And neither am I.

I’m smarter.

I’m fiercer.

I’m stronger.

I earned my PhD. I built something of my own. I learned how to survive without leaning on anyone.

But I also learned something else.

Distance doesn’t kill what’s real.

And what Jack and I started three years ago?

It didn’t fade.

It simmered.

Now the real question is…

What happens when fire finally gets oxygen?

Jack is already there when I step off the train.

Leaning against his bike like he owns the world.

Like he owns me.

The second he sees me, he moves. No hesitation. No cool-guy act. Just pure, unfiltered Jack.

He grabs me and lifts me straight off the ground.

I squeal — actually squeal — as he spins me around like I weigh nothing.

“Jack!” I laugh, breathless. “Put me down!”

“I can’t,” he mutters against my hair. “I missed you.”

My heart does something stupid and dangerous.

He finally sets me down, but his hands don’t leave me. One slides to my waist, the other comes up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face.

His touch is softer than I remember.

His eyes too.

Then he kisses me.

Not rough.

Not possessive.

Not claiming.

Vulnerable.

Soft.

Like he’s afraid I might disappear again.

And for a second, the world shrinks to just us.

A loud, exaggerated cough cuts through the moment.

Jack sighs against my lips. “Ignore him.”

I pull back, squinting over Jack’s shoulder.

“Silas?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He steps closer and pulls me into a hug before I can fully process what I’m seeing.

But this… this isn’t the Silas I remember.

The guy who used to laugh too loud and get into other's past just for fun?

Gone.

In his place stands a wall of ink and muscle. Fresh patches on his kutte. Harder eyes. Sharper jaw.

“What happened to you?” I ask, leaning back to look at him.

He smirks.

“Club happened. I’m patched.”

Casual. Like he just said he changed shampoo.

I blink once.

“Oh. So the personality upgrade didn’t come with it?”

Jack chokes on a laugh behind me.

Silas narrows his eyes. “You’re still a menace.”

“PhD now,” I correct sweetly. “Menace with credentials.”

Jack’s arm snakes around my waist again, pulling me back against him like he’s staking quiet claim.

And just like that…

I’m home.

Jack hands me the helmet without a word.

It’s automatic. Familiar.

I slide it on, swing my leg over the bike, and settle behind him.

For a second, I just sit there.

Three years ago, this was routine.

Three years ago, this was my normal.

Now it feels like stepping back into a memory — except the memory has grown broader shoulders and heavier responsibilities.

Jack reaches back, grabs my hands, and pulls them around his waist.

“Hold on,” he says.

Like I ever wouldn’t.

The engine roars to life beneath us, vibrating through my thighs, through my chest. The sound is deep. Powerful. Alive.

And then we’re moving.

The road stretches ahead, wind rushing past us. My hair whips free behind me, air brushing against my arms, my legs, sneaking beneath my shirt. It’s cool and sharp and intoxicating.

I press closer to Jack’s back.

I forgot how this feels.

The freedom of it.

The danger of it.

The way the world blurs and it’s just you, him, and the road.

My fingers tighten slightly in his shirt.

He covers one of my hands with his, squeezing once.

Three years. And he still checks.

Wanted Town comes into view slowly — familiar streets, old buildings, ghosts of who I used to be standing on every corner.

But I’m not that girl anymore.

I lift my chin against the wind.

I’m coming back stronger.

Smarter.

And if Iron Havoc thinks I’m just slipping back into my old place?

They’re about to learn I don’t fit in boxes anymore.

Jack slows as the clubhouse appears at the end of the road.

My heart kicks harder.

Home.

Or something close to it.

And as the gates open and we ride through…

I know one thing for sure.

This time?

I’m not just Jack’s girl.

I’m a force they’re going to have to reckon with.

The gates close behind us with a metallic groan.

Jack parks, and before he can help me off, I swing my leg over and land on my own two feet.

He smirks. “Still stubborn.”

“Still vertical,” I reply sweetly.

The clubhouse door opens before we even reach it.

Word travels fast.

Rafe steps out first. Arms crossed. Assessing. Older. Sharper. Authority sitting on him like a crown.

“Well,” he says slowly. “Look what the wind dragged back.”

I smile. “Missed you too, sunshine.”

Kace appears behind him, shaking his head. “She’s been here thirty seconds.”

“And already improving the atmosphere,” I shoot back.

A couple of the newer guys stare at me. I don’t recognize their faces. Fresh cuts. Prospect patches.

One of them mutters, “That her?”

I glance at his patch. “If you have to ask, you’re new.”

Silas laughs under his breath.

We step inside.

The smell hits me first—leather, whiskey, smoke, familiarity.

Then I see her.

Behind the bar.

Blonde. Curvy. Confident stance. She’s wiping down the counter like she owns it.

She looks at me.

I look at her.

She doesn’t smile.

“You must be Sonya,” she says. “I’m Jessica. I’ve been bartending here since you left.”

Her tone is polite.

Her eyes are not.

“Oh?” I tilt my head. “So you’re the temp.”

A few chuckles echo from the tables.

Her jaw tightens. “I’m not temporary.”

“Good,” I reply casually, stepping closer to the bar. “I hate training replacements twice.”

Silence drops.

Jack mutters quietly, “Sonya…”

Jessica rounds the bar.

“You think because you left and got a degree that you’re above everyone?”

I shrug. “No. The degree just makes it official.”

That’s when she swings.

Fast.

Sloppy.

I sidestep on instinct.

Her momentum carries her forward, and before she can reset, I grab her wrist, twist, pivot behind her, and take her down in one smooth motion.

She hits the floor hard.

Gasps ripple through the room.

I plant my knee between her shoulder blades, pull her arm behind her back, and apply pressure.

She hisses.

I lean down slightly. “Rule one,” I murmur calmly. “Never swing unless you’re ready to finish.”

She struggles.

I tighten just enough to make my point.

“And rule two? Don’t mistake confidence for arrogance. I earned mine.”

The room is dead silent now.

Then—

A heavy voice cuts through everything.

“That’s enough.”

Gravefather.

I release Jessica immediately and stand.

He’s standing at the edge of the room, eyes locked on me. Not angry.

Evaluating.

“Office. Now.”

A few of the guys shift nervously.

Jack looks between us.

I smooth my hair back into place and adjust my jacket.

“Is that a welcome-back meeting?” I ask lightly.

Gravefather doesn’t blink. “Move.”

I walk toward him without hesitation.

As I pass Jack, I murmur, “Still think I can’t handle myself?”

His jaw is tight.

But his eyes?

Pride.

And maybe a little fear.

The door to the office closes behind me.

And just like that—

I’m officially home.