Standing in the middle of the kitchen are Locke and Mayhem.
They’re both showered, shaved, and fully dressed in their leather cuts, looking entirely unaffected by the late hour they went to bed. Locke is standing by the stove, flipping bacon in a heavy cast-iron skillet, while Mayhem leans against the counter, drinking a massive mug of black coffee and looking far too pleased with himself.
The moment our sock-clad feet swish against the floor, both men turn.
Mayhem takes one look at our identical, oversized shirts, wild hair, and dark sunglasses indoors, and sets his coffee mug down so hard it sloshes over the rim. A deep, rumbling laugh starts in his chest.
"Look at this," Mayhem says, shaking his head. "The survivors have surfaced."
Locke doesn't even bother to hide his smile. He se
