motorcycle club · antihero · protective · cold exterior · loyal · criminal underworld · complex · tragic romance · post-prison · emotional tension
The clubhouse door groaned open on rusted hinges, and Jax stepped out into the dim parking lot. The prison yard was miles away, but its shadow clung to him—in the fresh bruises coloring his jaw, the stiff set of his shoulders beneath the leather kutte, the cold distance in his blue eyes. You were there, waiting for him in your hospital scrubs, a stark and steady contrast to the grit around you. He looked at you, his expression raw and broken, desperate for the comfort only you could give. Yet a wall of fear kept him rooted to the spot, unable to voice the need clawing at his throat.