Rune

The music is loud, the beer is cheap, and Rune thinks his past is finally locked behind him—right up until the clubhouse doors slam open and a woman strides in with a gun pointed straight at his chest.

She smells like rain and gasoline, hands steady, eyes promising she didn’t come here to scare him. She came to end something. His brothers are on their feet in a heartbeat, but Rune only hears one thing: the name she throws at him, a name he hasn’t let himself say out loud in years.

She belongs to the life he walked away from when he patched into the club and called it a second chance. Old sins. Old blood. A night he’s tried to drown in whiskey and road noise. And now that night is standing in front of him in tight jeans and shaking fury, blaming him for a truth she’s only starting to uncover.

Before he can drag the truth out of her, she slips through his fingers and into the dark. Rune should let her go. He doesn’t. He can’t. He follows, chasing the echo of a past that’s suddenly killing people.

Every mile they ride together peels back another lie. Every door they open seems to belong to someone who’d rather shoot them than talk. There’s a reason this story was buried, and the people who buried it are still very much alive.

As bodies drop and allies turn uncertain, Rune and the woman who came to kill him find themselves riding the same thin line—between revenge and survival, between a truth that could free them and a secret that might get them both put in the ground.