Chapter 1

Jax watched Ava across the cluttered living room of their loft. It was the same loft above the old Road Vipers clubhouse, now silent, soon to be gutted. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling towards the peeling paint on the ceiling. "We need to talk, Ava."

Ava looked up from the engine part she was cleaning, her hands stained with grease. Ten years with Jax, and the smell of oil and leather was practically her perfume. "Sounds serious," she said, her voice even.

"It is." He took a drag. "Hellbender Customs is launching next month. The lounge, the whole deal. It's legit, Ava. Clean." He paused, then said the words. "And you and me... we're done."

Ava put the part down slowly. Her heart gave a hard thump against her ribs, but her face showed nothing. "Just like that?"

"It ain't 'just like that'," Jax countered, his voice rough. "It's been a long time coming. We're different people now. I'm different." He gestured vaguely. "I'm with someone. Lily. She's a waitress down at that retro diner I go to."

Ava felt a coldness spread through her. Lily. She'd seen her once, a kid with bright eyes and a vintage dress. "A sweet kid," Jax was saying. "Needs a stable life, someone to look out for her. She's not... hardened. Not like you."

Not like you. The words hung in the air. "She can handle herself," Jax added, almost as an afterthought about Ava. "You always could."

He didn't understand. He never really did. Her family, their money, the life she'd walked away from for him – he saw it as a distant, irrelevant fact, not the safety net it always was. He didn't know about Julian, not really, not the depth of that connection her parents had nurtured.

"My new associates, the investors for Hellbender," Jax continued, oblivious to the storm inside her. "They call Lily 'Mr. Rourke's new associate'. Polite. Respectful." He looked at Ava then, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "It's different, Ava. Lily's different. She's not like you were. You could ride out any storm, no questions asked, no promises needed. She can't live like that."

Ava stood up. The years with him, the fights, the making up, the danger, the wild loyalty she'd given him – all of it condensed into this sterile moment. "Okay, Jax," she said. Her voice was quiet. She walked to the bedroom, their bedroom, and started pulling a duffel bag from the top of the closet. He watched her, a frown creasing his forehead. "You're not gonna... make a scene?"

Ava paused, bag in hand. She almost laughed. A scene. After a decade. "No, Jax. No scene." She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She wouldn't give him anything else. He nodded, relieved. Too relieved. "Good. That's good, Ava." She said nothing, just started filling the bag. He was already moving on, already picturing his clean new life. And she, apparently, was just a piece of the old one, easily discarded. He had no idea what he was discarding, or who was waiting in the wings.