Chapter Twenty-Four
That night, the motorcycle club set up camp deep inside the dark woods right beside a quiet, wide river. The water moved slowly, reflecting the pale light of the stars above. After the massive, violent chaos of the morning confrontation and the long, exhausting hours of riding down the black asphalt highway, every single person in the formation was completely spent.
Stone had been significantly quieter than usual since we left the rest stop, his mood dark and thoughtful, but his massive hand had never once left my body. Whether his palm was resting firmly on my bare thigh while we were riding fast down the road, or sliding possessively over my lower back as we walked through the campsite, he kept me anchored directly to his side. He was silently reminding the entire w
