Property of Prime Final, page 14
“Everything,” I agreed and laughed softly.
He kissed my shoulder. “Good.”
He rolled us gently onto our sides so he didn’t crush me, and kept me pressed against his chest. My leg tangled with his. His arm draped over my waist, and his hand splayed across my stomach like he was staking a claim he didn’t have to voice.
“You okay?” he whispered.
I nodded against him. “More than okay.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Go to sleep, Shay.”
“Will you stay?” I asked quietly.
He tightened his hold. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I fell asleep in his arms.
Safe. Warm. Wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Prime
If there was one thing I’d learned in my fifteen years riding with the Kings of Anarchy, it was this: when something didn’t make sense, it meant you didn’t have all the pieces yet.
And when you didn’t have all the pieces, someone was either lying or hiding.
Tonight, the island felt like it was hiding.
Vin walked ahead of us down the narrow trail toward the west cliff, his flashlight beam cutting through the thick drift of shadows. Skull followed close behind him, his boots crunching over dead leaves. Push stayed to my right, shoulders tense, and jaw locked tight enough to crack a tooth.
We moved as a unit. We always did.
That damn skeleton kept popping into my mind. Someone wanted us to react.
And if there was one thing I trusted more than my bike, it was my gut.
“Hold up,” Vin muttered and stopped by a fallen log. “Flashlight battery’s being an asshole.”
“Should’ve replaced it,” Skull grunted.
“Should’ve minded your own damn business,” Vin shot back.
Push snorted. “Children.”
I walked ahead of them, leaving their bickering behind long enough to scan the tree line. The moon wasn’t out tonight, nothing but a heavy patch of clouds drifting over the sky. Without flashlights, this part of the island would’ve been a black pit.
“Prime,” Push called. “You see anything?”
“No.” I crouched near a stretch of flattened grass where the skeleton had been. “But I want another look closer to the edge.”
The cliff wasn’t huge. Maybe twelve feet straight down into packed earth and rock before the slope leveled out and dipped into the thick brush below. But one wrong move in the dark, and you’d break every bone in your body before slamming into the second layer of land.
Which, considering our current problems, would almost be the least of our worries.
Vin got his flashlight working again and joined me at the cliffside. He swept the beam across the ground, taking in every inch of dirt and gravel.
“No drag marks,” he said. “No disturbed soil from animals digging. No shoe prints unless they’re under those leaves.”
“Someone placed the skeleton,” I said. “They didn’t uncover it. And they sure as hell didn’t leave it here before Piney did his sweep.”
Push crouched beside us. “Which means someone was out here between Piney walking through and us finding the skeleton. That’s a pretty fucking tight window.”
“Too tight,” Vin agreed. “Piney doesn’t miss shit.”
Skull nudged a rock with his boot. “Unless someone wanted Piney to think he didn’t see anything.”
Push frowned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Skull grunted, “someone could’ve been watching Piney. Followed him. Waited for him to leave. Then placed the skeleton right where Piney had walked. Which would be one hell of a message.”
“For Piney?” Vin asked.
“For all of us,” Skull said. “That he’s watching. And that he’s not scared.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
That was exactly what it felt like. Someone daring us to catch them.
Someone showing off.
Vin jerked his chin toward the trees. “Let’s fan out. Small radius. Just enough to look for anything out of place.”
I nodded. “Don’t go too far. This asshole could be watching us right now.”
Push smirked. “If only he would come out and show his face.”
We split up, flashlights cutting through the dark like jagged beams of white.
I moved toward a thick cluster of trees about fifteen feet back from the cliff. The bark here was old with deep grooves, rough texture, and patches of moss curling up the trunks.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing suspicious.
Nothing.
Until something glinted.
A shine on the wood. Fresh. Wet-looking even though it wasn’t.
I stepped closer with my heart pounding.
“Vin,” I called quietly. “Push. Skull. Get over here.”
Three beams swung toward me.
“Found something?” Vin asked.
I didn’t answer.
I just pointed.
There, carved into the trunk of a thick oak tree, was a circle with a vertical line slashed straight through the middle.
The edges of the carving were fresh. Sharp. The bark still curled outward like it had been cut recently, hours, maybe.
Not days.
Not weeks.
Not months. Hours.
Push muttered a curse under his breath. “What in the living shit…”
Skull stepped up and traced a gloved finger along the grooves. “This wasn’t here yesterday.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”
Vin crouched and angled his flashlight. “This is a symbol. Not just a mark. Whoever carved this knew exactly what they were carving.”
Push circled the tree slowly, scanning the ground. “No footprints.”
“Someone brushed them out,” Vin said.
“Or wore something over their shoes,” Skull added.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
This was the symbol Pearl’s dad had mentioned when we talked to him. It was the symbol the biker Bernice dated wore.
Push stepped back. “What the hell does it even mean?”
“No idea,” Vin muttered. “Never seen anything like it.”
“Circle, slash. More like a warning,” Skull said.
I shook my head. “No. It’s his club’s mark.”
Push glared at the symbol. “Why leave this?”
“To tell us he can get this close,” I said.
Skull threw his hands up. “We already knew that.”
“He’s taunting us,” I said slowly.
“Meaning?” he asked.
“Meaning he wants us to know he stood exactly where we’re standing.” I lowered my voice. “He wanted us to find this, but he didn’t know we were going to know what it is.”
Push clenched his jaw. “He’s playing games.”
Skull scoffed. “He’s been playing games.”
“Yeah, but now for once we have one step up on him. We just need to figure out what club he was part of. Anchor is going to have to put a call into Razor again. We’re dealing with the past of the Kings of Anarchy that none of us were a part of, besides Shay when she was three.”
Push glanced over his shoulder. “You feel that?”
“Yeah,” Vin said. “Like we’re being watched.”
“We are being watched,” Skull muttered. “This guy’s probably laughing his ass off from the trees.”
I took a picture of the carving with my phone. Then another. Then a close-up.
Push blew out a shaky breath. “We should head back. Anchor needs to see this.”
“Agreed,” Vin said.
Skull was the last to turn away. “I don’t like this.”
“No one does,” I said.
But that wasn’t the whole truth.
I didn’t like the feeling that someone had been only feet away from her.
I didn’t like that Shay remembered something tied to this place, and now this symbol.
I didn’t like that the psycho was escalating.
I didn’t like any of it.
We headed back up the path, flashlights sweeping the dark underbrush. Push kept glancing behind us every ten seconds. Vin scanned the treeline with sharper, more frantic movements than usual. Even Skull seemed quieter than normal. His jaw tight, and his eyes flicked at every rustle.
We finished the walk back without another word.
When the clubhouse lights came into view through the trees, a wave of relief hit me harder than I expected. Because behind those walls were the only things on this island that mattered: my club, my family, and Shay.
Push reached for the door first.
We stepped inside.
Piney and Lost were at the door. Pearl sat on the couch with a blanket over her legs, scrolling her phone nervously. Shay was curled up beside her, her eyes heavy but awake.
Her gaze lifted the second I walked in.
And fuck, every fear I had tripled.
She’d been waiting for me.
Worrying about me.
I didn’t deserve that trust, but I’d die before I failed her.
Pearl sat up. “Everything okay?”
I swallowed, forcing my voice steady. “We found something.”
Shay’s face paled. “What did you find?”
Anchor stepped out of the hallway, arms crossed. “What happened?”
I handed him my phone with the picture on the screen.
His jaw clenched immediately.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “This was carved tonight?”
“Yeah,” I said. “And it’s fresh. Real fresh.”
Pearl leaned closer. “What is that?”
“A symbol,” Vin answered quietly. “The one your dad described.”
Pearl shivered. “Jesus. This guy pretty much left a calling card.”
“It was,” I said. “He wanted us to see it, but I don’t think he knows that we already know about what this is. My thought is he figured he would make us spiral trying to figure out what it even is, but we know it’s his club.”
“Now we just gotta figure out what club it is. I’m going to give Razor a call tomorrow and see if he knows what it is. He was around when the Caleb thing happened, which seems to be the root of all of this,” Anchor said.
I agreed.
“I’m going to try and search the old internet for this,” Wannabe offered. “Maybe I can find something.”
Anchor nodded. “Good idea. Let me know if you find anything.” The guys all peeled off, talking amongst themselves about any clubs they had ever heard of.
I met Shay’s eyes.
Shay stood up with her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold the last hour together. The second our eyes met, her shoulders dropped, not with fear this time, but with relief.
I crossed the room to her, slow and steady. She met me halfway, her fingers curling into the front of my cut before I even fully stopped.
“You’re back,” she whispered.
“I told you I wasn’t going to be gone long,” I said, and brushed a knuckle under her chin. “It’s good having everyone do surveillance so nothing gets under our radar. I’m not sure the other guys would have found that carving like I did.”
Her breath shook out of her, small and honest. “I just… I like it better when you’re with me. I don’t have to worry as much.”
That hit deeper than she probably realized. I slid a hand to the small of her back and pulled her gently against me.
“I’m here,” I murmured. “Right here.”
She rested her forehead against my chest for a moment and breathed me in like she needed the proof. When she finally looked up, her eyes connected with mine.
“That symbol…” she said quietly. “It scares me. It’s pretty much throwing it in our faces who he is. You find out who the symbol belongs to, and then you’ll find him.”
“You don’t need to be scared, babe,” I said. “This is the best lead we’ve got so far.”
“It means we’re on the right path, doesn’t it? That maybe this time we’re getting closer.”
“We are.” I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Whoever is doing this, whoever’s connected to what happened back then, they’re slipping. This mark? It ties everything together. Caleb. Bernice. Your mom. The bodies now. It’s all linked.”
She swallowed hard. “And we’re going to figure out who?”
“We’re damn sure gonna try.” I stroked my thumb over the back of her hand. “And until we do, you stay with me.”
Her eyes softened. “I wasn’t planning on being anywhere else.”
I leaned down and kissed her slowly, lingering, not rushed or frantic. Just real. Just us. Her fingers slid up the back of my neck and pulled me closer like that was where she always meant for me to be.
When we finally pulled apart, I pressed my forehead to hers.
“You good?” I asked quietly.
“I am now.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward my room. Her steps matched mine like we were already used to moving together.
For the first time since this nightmare started, I felt like we’d grabbed onto a thread that could finally unravel the whole damn thing.
And I wasn’t letting go.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shay
Prime’s fingers twitched against my hip, like even asleep, he was making sure I hadn’t gone anywhere. My chest tightened, not with fear this time, but something warmer, deeper, unexpected.
I slipped out from under his arm slowly. He didn’t wake, just shifted, brow furrowing for a second like his body protested the loss of contact.
I padded quietly to the bathroom and shut the door halfway before turning on the small light.
I leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on my face.
The reflection staring back didn’t look like the woman I had been two weeks before. The woman looking back at me now was loved and safe.
She wasn’t always in flight mode, ready for the world to crumble around her.
Sure, things with this psycho were nowhere near being solved, but she knew that Prime and the club were doing everything they could to keep them all safe.
That was all anyone could ask for.
I wiped my face with a towel and stepped back into the bedroom.
Prime was awake now, propped on one elbow, and watched the doorway like he’d been switched on by instinct the moment I walked away. His hair was a mess, jaw shadowed, his eyes still warm with sleep but sharp the second they met mine.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.
I nodded, climbing back into bed. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
He pulled the blanket aside for me, and I slid in, letting the warmth of him wrap around me again. The second I settled, he hooked an arm under me and pulled me into his chest.
“You were worried,” I whispered.
“You walked more than six feet away from me,” he murmured into my hair. “Yeah, I was worried.”
My laugh came out soft. “Well, I’m glad you miss me even when I just go to the bathroom.”
“I told you,” he said and brushed his thumb along my shoulder. “I like it better when you stay with me. I don’t have to worry as much.”
“I like it, too,” I confessed. “I love… you.” The word was out of my mouth, and I didn’t regret it. Why should I not admit it?
Prime’s hand stilled. He tilted my face up with two fingers until I met his eyes.
“Good,” he said simply. “I love you, too.”
The words hit me like warmth spreading under my ribs.
We lay there for a moment, quiet with everything hovering between us.
Finally, I whispered, “Prime… you love me.”
He raised a brow. “Have for a bit.”
“Same,” I admitted.
For the first time in days, I felt something like hope settle inside me.
“Whatever comes next,” he said, “you’re not facing it alone. You’ve got me and the club protecting you.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Forever.”
My eyes closed, a soft breath escaping.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Then I can handle this.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Prime
The clubhouse was buzzing by the time we walked into the main room.
Lost was drinking coffee like it had personally offended him. Skull and Vin were hunched over the dining table, arguing about some timeline on the dry-erase board. Push leaned against the wall by the hallway door, arms crossed, and his eyes watched everything at once.
Pearl was standing at the coffee bar, digging through a stack of papers with a look I didn’t like.
Anchor stood beside her, brow tight.
“What’s going on?” I asked, guiding Shay to my side.
Pearl didn’t look up. “Late last night, I was going through the last box of Bernice’s things, and I found something.”
Shay stiffened beside me instantly.
Anchor scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I would like one day where we aren’t dealing with shit.”
Pearl finally turned around, holding a small envelope between her fingers. “I hid it in the pile because I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night, and then I was worried it would suddenly disappear. I’m apparently paranoid in the middle of the night.”
It was cream-colored. Old. Edges yellowed. Sealed with a thin strip of something that looked like wax and tape.
And on the front, written in a shaky but precise hand, was one word:
SHAY.
Shay’s breath hitched so hard I felt it in my bones.
Pearl crossed the room and held it out. “It was in a metal tin with some receipts and old newspaper clippings.”
Shay stared at the envelope like it might explode.
I slipped my arm around her waist. “You don’t have to open it if you’re not ready.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. “If Bernice left this… then I want to know why.”
Pearl squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’re right here.”
