Ride With Me (Paige and Jace) novel Chapter 122

Summary for Chapter 122: Ride With Me (Paige and Jace)

Ride With Me novel Paige and Jace by Kylie K Chapter 122

CHAPTER 76

e photograph I’d seen outside the clubhouse stayed in my head long after the prospect

competition ended.

I tried convincing myself it wasn’t important. I tried telling myself it could have been a tourist. A curious stranger. Someone taking pictures of motorcycles.

The problem was that I didn’t believe any of those explanations and neither did Jace,

Three days later I understood why. The morning started normally enough and I arrived at Lawson

Customs just after sunrise, unlocked the front doors and began preparing for another busy day.

Diesel followed me through the workshop while carrying a tennis ball that looked like it had

survived several wars.

I started a pot of coffee, checked the schedule, and reviewed the restoration timeline for Oliver

Hayes’s motorcycle.

For almost thirty minutes, everything felt normal and then Jace arrived.

The moment he walked through the front door, I knew something was wrong. His expression was

calm. Too calm.

The kind of calm he wore when he was actively trying not to worry other people.

“Morning.” He said and I narrowed my eyes.

“What happened?” I asked as he set his coffee on the counter.

“Nothing.” He said.

“That’s a lie.” I said and a small smile touched his mouth.

“Maybe.” He said so I folded my arms.

“Jace.” I said.

Before he could answer, the office door opened and Mia appeared carrying paperwork.

“Please tell me nobody is bleeding.” Mia said.

“Not currently.” I replied.

“Excellent.” She said and she disappeared again.

Jace waited until she was gone and then his expression became serious.

“Sarah stopped by the clubhouse last night.” He said and immediately my stomach tightened.

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“What did she want?” I asked.

“Information.” He said.

“About?” I asked.

“The Black Reapers.” He said.

That answer didn’t make me feel any better so I leaned against the counter.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jace glanced toward the workshop, making sure nobody could overhear and then he lowered his

voice.

“Sarah received intelligence from another department.” He said and I hated the sound of that.

“What kind of intelligence?” I asked.

“Nobody knows exactly.” He said and the answer frustrated me immediately.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means law enforcement believes something bigger is coming.” He said.

“Bigger than what?” I asked.

“The vandalism. The fire. The surveillance.” He said and I stared at him.

Neither of us spoke for several seconds because we both understood what that meant and someone wasn’t finished. Someone was escalating.

“What did Sarah say?” I asked and Jace exhaled slowly.

“She said to be careful.” He said and I laughed without humor.

“That’s reassuring.” I said.

“I know.” He said.

“Did she say who?” I asked.

“No.” He said.

“Did she say when?” I asked.

“No.” He said.

“Did she say anything useful?” I asked and Jace actually smiled at that.

“A little.” He said.

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“What?” I asked.

“She thinks we’re dealing with people who are becoming impatient.” He said which is the only part that made sense.

Every attempt against Lawson Customs had failed. Every attack had strengthened support for the garage and every setback had made the Iron Vipers more protective.

Whoever was behind everything wasn’t getting the results they wanted and that made dangerous people even more dangerous.

The rest of the morning passed quickly before customers arrived, phone calls needed answering, repairs needed completing and life kept moving.

But something had changed. I noticed it immediately. Club members were everywhere and Hunter spent nearly an hour sitting outside.

Derek appeared twice before lunch and Roman stopped by under the excuse of checking on a

motorcycle.

Nobody said they were increasing security but they didn’t have to. It was obvious. The Iron Vipers were closing ranks.

Around noon, I headed upstairs to my apartment and I opened the bedside safe.

The pistol rested exactly where I’d left it. For several moments I stared at it. I hated carrying it. Not because I disliked firearms but because carrying it meant accepting reality.

It meant acknowledging that things had become dangerous again but eventually I picked it up,

checked it and loaded it.

Then secured it inside the holster beneath my jacket and the weight felt familiar. Uncomfortable

but necessary.

When I returned downstairs, Ben immediately noticed. Of course he did. Good mechanics noticed details. It was part of the job.

His eyes flicked briefly toward my side and then back toward the engine he was rebuilding.

He didn’t ask questions and he didn’t make a comment. He simply kept working.

The silent understanding somehow meant more than a hundred awkward conversations.

Later that afternoon he handed me a wrench.

“Need this?” He asked.

“Thanks.” I said and his gaze briefly met mine.

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“You okay?” He asked so I nodded.

“Yeah.” I said and he nodded back.

That was the entire conversation. No pressure, no interrogation and no awkward sympathy. Just

trust. The kind of trust people earned over time.

By late afternoon, the garage was busy. Customers filled the waiting area and Mia somehow

managed six different phone calls at once.

Diesel wandered between visitors collecting attention and everything appeared normal. But

beneath the surface, tension remained.

I felt it every time a vehicle pulled into the lot and every time a stranger entered the building and

every time my phone vibrated unexpectedly. The feeling followed me through the entire day.

As closing time approached, I found Jace leaning against the counter. His hand brushed lightly

against mine.

“You carrying?” He asked and I nodded and his expression softened.

“You hate that.” He said.

“I do.” I said as his fingers squeezed mine briefly.

“I know.” He said.

For a moment neither of us spoke. Then he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against my

forehead.

The simple gesture eased some of the tension immediately.

“Whatever happens, you’re not facing it alone.” He said quietly and emotion tightened my chest.

“I know.” I said.

And for the first time, I truly did. Because months ago I would have been handling everything by myself. Now I had people. People who showed up. People who stayed and people who cared. The

realization made a difference.

As evening approached, customers gradually left and the workshop became quieter. Tools were cleaned and work orders were updated.

The familiar rhythm of closing began. I was helping Mia organize paperwork when a delivery van

pulled into the lot.

Neither of us thought much about it. Deliveries happened all the time. The driver climbed out

carrying a medium sized cardboard box.