Ride Me Into Ruin: Iron Reapers MC

Small Cracks

LEXIE

For the first time since I arrived in Harlow, I had a full day off, no drug store, no organizing dusty storage rooms, just me and an entire day to myself.

I woke up late, took a long bath, and then spent the morning washing my clothes in the small sink in my room. I hung them to dry on the back of chairs and the windowsill like I was living in some old movie.

“Living the dream,” I muttered to myself as I smoothed out a shirt. “From running for my life to playing laundry maid in a biker town. What a glow-up.”

By midday, the sun was warm and bright. I decided to explore Harlow on foot. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed a small bag, and stepped outside.

The town was quiet in a peaceful way. Trees lined the streets, and a few people waved as I walked by. I passed the drug store, the small grocery, and a tiny park with a few kids playing.

It felt… nice, normal. The kind of normal I hadn’t had in a very long time.

I turned a corner and stopped. Chaos was outside the bar, working on a motorcycle. He was bent over the bike with tools spread around him, his black t-shirt stretched tight across his broad back and shoulders. Grease marked his arms and hands. He looked completely focused.

I almost turned around, but he looked up before I could and his storm-gray eyes met mine. “Day off?” he asked, straightening up slowly. He wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah,” I said, walking closer. “Figured I’d see what this famous town of yours looks like in daylight without running for my life.”

Chaos’s lips twitched in a small almost-smile. He leaned against the bike, arms crossed over his chest. “And what do you think so far?”

I shrugged and leaned against the wall a few feet away from him. “It’s… quieter than I expected. People actually smile at strangers here. Weird, almost suspicious.”

He chuckled softly. “We’re not all bad.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I teased. “You look like you’re fighting that bike. Is it winning?”

Chaos glanced down at the motorcycle. “It’s being stubborn, needs some love and patience.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said dryly. “I’ve known a few stubborn things in my life.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You including yourself in that list?”

“Absolutely. I’m the queen of stubborn.” I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “So, Mr. President, what do you do on a day off? Besides wrestle motorcycles and look serious all the time?”

Chaos set the rag down and leaned back more comfortably. “I fix things. Ride when I can. Check on people in town who need help, nothing exciting.”

“Fixing things and helping people,” I repeated. “You make it sound so simple. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to trip over my own feet while exploring one small town.”

He watched me for a moment, his expression calm. “What do you like to do? When you’re not running or organizing my storage room?”

I thought about it. “I used to ride my bike for hours just to clear my head. Read books when I could. Cook sometimes, though I’m better at eating than making food.” I gave him a small grin. “And I’m excellent at making sarcastic comments about everything. It’s a gift.”

Chaos nodded slowly. “You’re good at that last one.”

“I know,” I said proudly. “It’s my best quality. Keeps people on their toes.”

We talked for a long time. He asked simple questions, what kind of books I liked, where I learned to ride, if I missed anything from my old life.

I gave him honest but careful answers, keeping my real story hidden. He listened without pushing. His body stayed relaxed against the bike, shoulders loose, hands resting on his thighs. He never stepped closer than necessary.

For the first time, I felt comfortable around him, not completely safe, but close.

Later that evening, the bar started filling up. I sat at a corner table with a soda, watching people. Mia was busy behind the counter. Chaos moved through the room, talking to a few guys.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the other side of the bar. Someone had dropped a full tray of glasses, the sound shattered through the room.

I jumped hard. My heart slammed against my ribs and for a second, I was back in the apartment... Drake throwing a plate against the wall, glass exploding everywhere, his angry voice filling the space.

My breathing picked up fast. I gripped the edge of the table tightly, forcing my face to stay calm. I counted in my head, trying to slow everything down.

*Not real, not here. You’re safe.*

I hid it well. I even managed a small laugh when Mia looked over with a worried expression. “Clumsy hands tonight, huh?” I called out.

But across the room, Chaos noticed. He was talking to Brick but his head turned toward me instantly, his jaw tightened, his storm-gray eyes stayed on me, full of quiet worry.

He watched for a long moment, making sure I was okay, before turning back to his conversation, that look stayed with me the rest of the night.

Later, when the bar quieted down, I went upstairs to my room. I closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long, tired breath.

I walked to the window and looked out at the quiet town, streetlights glowed softly, everything was still and peaceful.

I wrapped my arms around myself and whispered into the dark room, “I feel safer here than I have in a long time.”

The words scared me as soon as I said them, because feeling safe was dangerous, and yet… I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was starting to feel at home, and that feeling was getting stronger every single day.