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Words were hard. I had trouble describing how I felt, what my body was like, and what I was thinking at my next few meetings with my therapist. He told me to write things down when I thought of them— if I thought of them— and bring them in next time. The only word that came to mind was empty after I'd had to send in my signature, acknowledging that I'd gotten the damn letter.

Strange was another word. Conflicted. In one hand I held the crumbles that was left of my dad's existence, holding on to every last memory— hearing his voice in my head, his laughter, how he held the steering wheel in his car— so I wouldn't forget him. In my other hand I held a brand new life that I'd acquired in just a short amount of time— a man I'd grown to care for that he'd never judge for his scar and motorcycle, a new best friend.. I wasn't in a hurry to follow in my dad's footsteps anymore, because that night when I tried, I was dragged into something more, something that gave me more.

I'd spend the entirety of the weekend alone, catching up on studying and calming down after my breakdown, the next few days I focused on more assignments and reading about different kinds of paint and their significance in different eras. I felt alone and had no more tasks to do by Thursday, so I decided to go out and see some people.

The clubhouse looked like it wasn't too crowded, which suited me well as I only wanted to spend an hour or two with Jesse or Helix, or both if I was lucky. They'd both been working a lot, especially nights, so I was fully prepared not to meet any of them there and go back home with nothing more accomplished than getting some fresh air. I knocked on the wooden door, as I heard no music inside, and it opened a little while later.

"Ah, see! Perfect timing, Olivia," Clint said with a smile on his face, putting his hand on my neck and bringing me into the living room. I smiled innocently towards both the guys I wanted to see as  their boss kept talking. "You've got no excuse, James, and Stevens, you still haven't gotten this week's number. I'm sure Jordan has some clothes she could borrow to fit in."

Jesse groaned and fell back with his hands in his blonde hair, while Helix sent me a smile before racing after Clint, who was already in the kitchen. "You can't mean that!" Helix yelled, "she's not— I'm not— we're—"

"Get to the fucking point," Clint interrupted loudly, walking back into the living room with a beer in his hand.

"Livy isn't going anywhere near this," Jesse said, to which Helix gestured like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can leave—"

"Come on, guys!" Clint didn't let me get my sentence out before interrupting the boys, then he sighed, started rubbing his eyebrows with his fingers and said, "Look, I know you guys care about her, but this isn't dangerous, I promise. I wouldn't even have suggested it if I thought otherwise, it's just a stakeout. Some light spying on Vaughn's guys.."

I stared at all of them in turn, eyes wide, regretting my decision to go there just because I felt a little lonely. Whatever they were doing seemed like something I didn't want to be a part of, especially if I wanted to prove my mom wrong about the Wolves.

Helix looked at me, searching my face for a few long, loaded seconds, before he sighed and said, "Fine, but only if she wants to."

"Helix!" Jesse exclaimed in frustration. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I won't let anything happen to her!"

The snap in his voice made me flinch, not because I was scared, but I was confused and the harshness of it startled me. He noticed, and his eyes immediately softened as he looked at me, offering his hand to me. When I took it, he said, "We'll see if Jordan's got an extra jacket."

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