Chapter 99
-Hailey-
The heavy soundproof door to the range was propped open, letting in a slab of weak morning light from the garage
windows.
The usual snap of gunshots was replaced by the grunts of men lifting heavy things and the screech of furniture being dragged across concrete.
A stream of Warriors and prospects moved in and out like ants, carrying mattresses, armloads of bedding, and boxes of supplies.
I hesitated at the threshold. My eyes needed a minute to adjust to the bizarre new reality of the place.
The long, narrow room where I’d recently learned the kick of a clock was now a weird hybrid of army barracks and slumber party.
Against one wall, three couches from the common room were shoved together. Next to them, a row of mattresses from the unused apartments upstairs lay on the concrete floor, each topped with a nest of pillows and blankets.
An old refrigerator hummed in the corner, its door open as Mason and another brother loaded it with beer, bottled water, and food supplies.
On the other side of the room, Link and River were wrestling with a flat–screen TV, trying to make it level on a makeshift stand made out of milk crates.
Wires snaked across the floor. A tripping hazard waiting to strike.
And in the center of it all was Logan.
He was directing traffic, with his cane planted firmly on the floor as he pointed toward a stack of boxes. “Dex, get those batteries moved to the far corner. I don’t want ‘em near the fridge motor.”
He favored his bad leg. His jaw was tight with a pain he’d never admit to. But he was moving, leading, making this happen.
His green eyes cut through the chaos and landed on me. For a second, the operational focus in his eyes softened into something else. Just for me.
It was there and gone so fast I might have imagined it, but it sent the usual electric current through me all the same.
I picked my way through the obstacle course and held out the mug to him. “Thought you might need this.”
“Thanks, Ace.” His fingers brushed against mine as he took it, and I felt myself involuntarily bite my lip. He took a long swallow, his eyes scanning the room again over the rim of the mug. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s… something else,” I said, honestly. I looked at the fortified steel door, the reinforced walls designed to contain the sound of gunfire, now meant to keep the danger out. “Cozy.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “We aim to please.” He took another drink, his attention already being pulled away by River cursing across the room. “Gonna be a long few days in here”
I watched him. This man building a bomb shelter out of a gun range, just trying to protect what was his. The sheer. staggering effort of it all.
He was doing everything to create a comfortable bubble of safety for us.
And I was standing in the middle of it, holding a sharp–ass secre that threatened to pop it.
1/3
I walked the perimeter of the room slowly, letting my fingers trail over the backs of the couches, the metal shelves full of supplies.
Everything had been dragged here in a rush. Comfort assembled under duress. It reminded me of disaster footage on the news gymnasiums turned into shelters, rows of cots under fluorescent lights, people clinging to routine because routine was all they had left.
This wasn’t safety. It was triage. And everyone here knew it, even if no one was saying it out loud.
Anatoly hadn’t touched this room, but I could see his fingerprints all over it. He hadn’t needed to kick in doors or light fires to force us underground. He’d just whispered into the right cars poked the right fears, and waited for us to do the rest ourselves.
Lock the gates. Reinforce the walls. Gather the women and children into a single room and call it protection.
I imagined telling Logan about Stella right now. Watching him recalculate, reorganize, redirect men and resources toward another unknown. He’d do it without hesitation. For me.
And that was exactly why I couldn’t say it yet. Not when all the evidence I had was silence and a sick feeling in my gut.
I had to wait. Just a little longer. Just until I knew for sure.
After I circled the room, I found myself standing next to Logan again.
He turned back to me, and his expression shifted into something more serious. “You good?” he asked.
It was a simple question, but it carried the weight of everything last night, Leo, the war outside our door.
“I’m good,” I said, forcing a smile.
He nodded, accepting the lie because he needed to.
Because he had a refrigerator to stock and a TV to hook up and a city to defend.
He leaned in and kissed my forehead. A quiet gesture of reassurance that felt more like a goodbye.
And then he was limping toward River, raising his voice to cut through the noise. “For Christ’s sake, Link, hold it steady!”
I stood there for a moment longer, watching him lead.
A kind of warmth seeped into my bones, but it couldn’t reach the cold, hard certainty growing inside me.
This room, with all its practical, makeshift comfort, felt like a feeble sanctuary.
A false promise.
I turned away from the chaos, needing to do something anything – useful. My gaze landed on the bathroom door tucked into the far corner.
Toilet paper.
Of all the things to think about at the dawn of war, that’s where my brain went. But it was practical, wasn’t it? Better to have too much than to run out when you’re locked in a glorified bunker.
I slipped out of the gun range and back into the clubhouse.
The storage closet was next to the main bathrooms. It smelled like industrial cleaner and air freshener. I grabbed an armful of toilet paper rolls. It was stupid, but the mundane task helped. Something normal in this upside–down world.
Halfway back to the range, I felt my phone buzz twice in my pocket. I froze for a second, tempted to fling the rolls in the air and see if it was a text from Stella. But I decided it could wait.
Chapter 99
55 vouchers
As I dumped the toilet paper onto the bathroom counter, my phone buzzed again. My heart was in my throat as I pulled it out and unlocked the screen.
The texts weren’t from Stella. They were from Nikki.
*
12:35 PM: Hey. She didn’t show up for her appointment *
12:37 PM: * She’s not answering my calls either*
My heart dropped from my throat to my gut with a sickening thud.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. At the bags under my eyes.
Something happened to Stella.
Because of me.
AD
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
