She landed in Phoenix in the afternoon. The warm air caressed her skin, crawling all over her in search of the man she was with the last time she stepped foot in Arizona.

She went over to her childhood neighborhood. It was a few miles from where she and Maksim used to stay. Since it was too late in the day to look for a place to stay, she settled down in the motel.

Bikes rumbled down the street. She looked at the two motorists that thundered by and the memory of Snake had her grabbing her luggage and running indoors.

If the bikers frequented the town, then she would have to leave. Although the MC willingly handed Snake to Maksim to avoid bad blood, he could have a friend or family member wanting to avenge him.

She took a shower. The bathtub was stained and cracked. It was a far cry from what she used to have at Maksim's penthouse. The place felt uncomfortable, though not because it was cheap, but because she was lonely.

She secured a towel around her body and walked out of the bathroom. It wasn't until later on that she realized she was sitting on the bed, still in a towel, and staring at the black screen of the TV.

– • –

In the morning, she went home and job hunting. Finding a dingy one-bedroom was easy, but finding a job was another story.

Not wanting to go through the disappointment of rejection, she went for something easy. A restaurant was paying minimum wage for someone to clean, so she signed up. The main reason she was attracted to it was that it was right by the park.

She didn't want to give up on her treatment, and continuous walks would be good for her. The last thing she needed to do was look up community centers to make sure she had a professional to talk to.

After getting the run-down of the workplace and meeting the mostly middle-aged and elderly staff, she picked up her uniform and went to explore the park. It wasn't well-taken care of. There was plenty of garbage and a well-worn playground.

She steered away from the few kids that were playing.

Soon enough, she had a new life going. Her phone notifications dried since Daniel and Maksim no longer texted her, and Tiffany and whatever happened to her was shoved to the back of her mind.

She didn't sense a lingering presence of Maksim. His guards weren't around, from what she could tell. That made her irrationally sad, so she picked up books and read page after page until the words of her own tragedy faded.

For one month, she went from work to the park. She read non-fiction at first and then dared to pick up a comedy book. Her laughter wasn't quite there yet, but she quirked her lip here and there.

She was doing better. There were still reminders she couldn't escape, like the tenderness of her breasts, but she could now go to sleep without soaking a pillow, no longer avoided knives in suspense that she would have a breakdown and hurt herself, no longer used Maksim's face to try to picture what the babies would've looked like.

Her co-workers were nice, but she had little energy to maintain friendships. She didn't exchange numbers with them, didn't have lunch with them. All she focused on was her.

On the 4th month, she got a haircut. Her long, brown hair was cropped to her shoulders. She looked different, but different was good.

The restaurant closed early, so she was on her way to the park. As usual, she planned on avoiding the playground.

When she turned the corner, a girl rammed into her and went down. The teenager looked up from the ground, nervousness in the one eye that wasn't swollen shut.

It was then that Raelynn heard the rumbling of bikes. This girl was running from someone.

Thinking fast, she unlocked the door of the restaurant, helped the girl up, and shoved her inside. She was just done closing the door and picking up the book from the ground that the riders appeared.

"Have you seen a girl?"

The men were rough. Long beards, thick muscles, bandanas, leather boots, rings and tattoos.

Raelynn snapped her book shut. It surprised her how little fear she felt. She supposed that after hearing bikes pass by so many times throughout that month, she stopped being paranoid.

"Yeah. She ran into me and went that way." She pointed to the wrong direction, and the men took off.

Once the coast was clear, Raelynn unlocked the door. The skirmish, beaten, mysterious girl was gone.

Raelynn couldn't stop thinking of her. The next morning, she had an unexpected surprise. Once she closed up, she walked outside and came face-to-face with an pissed off biker.

Her heart skipped a beat, and muscle memory had her hand lifting to protect a bump that was no longer there.

"Where's the girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to sidestep him, but he wasn't done with her.

"You don't want to get in the middle of this," he warned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated.

"Fine, but if that little runt comes around one more time, you'll be dealing with us."

"It looked like you were the ones coming after her," she shot out.

"She don't belong around the club. We don't take in minors, so keep her away."

That demand confused Raelynn. Why was that girl running after these meaty bikers? What did she want with them?

The biker straddled his bike, ready to take off, so Raelynn stepped forward. "Why is she coming to you?"

He shrugged. "I don't fucking care, but she needs to stay away. The MC don't want her or her cop daddy anywhere near."

He kicked off and left her in the dust. She was relieved that she wasn't recognized, but annoyed that her curiosity only spiked.

She should really stay away from the mysterious girl, but how could she, when the girl was so similar to Raelynn when she was younger? They were both rebellious on the outside, but sad deep inside.

With a sigh, she continued her way to the park. Over the next two days, she didn't hear any bikes pass by or run into more troubled teenagers.

She was on her bed, re-organizing her shelf, when her phone rang. The sound startled her, because she hadn't gotten a call in a long time.

The call was coming from New York. With her heart caught in her throat, she picked up.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

The voice was male, accented, Russian.

Viktor. Why the fuck would he, of all people, be calling her?

"Is he okay?" she blurted, shooting up to her feet and reaching for her purse.

If something happened to Maksim. If he was dead, too, then she–

"Maksim is physically well. I am not calling about him."

"Oh," she licked her lips and dropped her purse. "What do you need?"

She doubted the millionaire crime lord needed anything from her, but she didn't know what else to say.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat. "I never talked to you. You know, after it happened."

It.

Such a huge event was shoved into that tiny word.

"I have not been the friendliest," Viktor admitted. "But I am..." he cleared his throat again. "I am truly sorry for your loss. I wanted those babies, too, because they would have made Maksim happier. I am sorry you are both hurting."

Raelynn's mouth felt dry. The one month of progress shriveled back to one day, and she was a mess all over again.

"Jus– just make sure he's okay."

She hung up and cried until the pages of the book under her cheek were wet.

– • –

Angry pounding woke her. She looked at the door that looked ready to cave in and slowly approached it.

She looked out of the peephole and found that biker. With a sniffle and a wipe to her dried eyes, she called out, "stop banging on my door."

She opened it, leaving the chain in place, and stared at him.

"What are you doing here? I'll call the cops."

"You should be calling a lawyer to file your will instead," he glared. "Your girl is getting out of control."

"She isn't mine. I have no connection with her."

"You protected her. In my world, in an MC, that means you picked up that damn burden."

He was so rude that she wanted to slam the door in his face.

"Well, I'm not in an MC, so goodnight!"

"Listen," he interjected. "The MC is getting nervous. We have families to protect. This girl's father has a high position in the police world. Got it?"

"If you were the ones that put those bruises on her face, then I hope her dad throws you where you belong."

"Her daddy beats on her, not us."

Raelynn blinked, her rage studding her. It had been a long time since she felt this way– not since four months ago, when she lost her bump.

A cop, a father, was beating on his daughter?

"Why don't you report him, then!" she gritted.

The biker shook his head. "He's got friends in high places– judges, lawyers, cops. We could put a bullet in his head, but that would bring too much attention to us. We can't afford that war."

She couldn't believe it.

"The girl is probably just looking for help."

The biker seemed unimpressed, and her anger became despair because she wanted to help the sad girl that was so much like her younger self.

"There ain't much we can do. We ain't god, and neither are you."

No, but Maksim could bring down thunder like Thor.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Maksim was no longer a part of her world. She couldn't ask him to use his power to save this girl, because she had condemned it long ago.

If she wanted to save anyone, then she'd have to do it herself.

How, though? She had some money saved up, but didn't have the connections to take down a crooked cop. The worst she could do was read him a book until he died from boredom.

When she looked up, she realized that the biker was walking away. Defeated, she locked her door and entered the bathroom to wash her face.

With her face dripping, she stared at the mirror. There was no way someone like her could get to the bottom of this. She had nothing to offer.

Her eyes trailed over the sink, and found her chapstick. It was practically the only piece of makeup she owned. She didn't care about making herself look pretty nowadays.

She had no one to impress, after all.

She frowned at the chapstick. Maybe there was some potential there. Maybe she could fight the insecurity of the scar on her abdomen, of the stretch marks, of the bags under her eyes, of her thinner figure.

She lifted the chapstick.

Maybe a makeover and some flirting could grant her the access she needed to take this bastard down.

She fought the feeling of guilt. She was no longer in a relationship with Maksim, so pawning at some asshole and batting her eyelashes wouldn't be cheating.

She uncapped the chapstick and put a layer on her lips. Then, She ran her hands through her short, oily hair. She would need to wash it and find the nearest skin-tight dress.

Her hands found her stomach. She wasn't as flat as she was before her pregnancy, but at least her breasts appeared fuller.

She nodded. She would do this.

She would save this kid, because she couldn't save hers.