The next morning, Erin woke up disoriented, the unfamiliar couch pressing into her back, the faint scent of leather and motor oil lingering in the air. For a second, she forgot where she was. Then everything from last night crashed back into her mind like a freight train.

Jamie. The race. The people behind it. And Ghost.

She sat up with a groan, rubbing her eyes.

Sunlight filtered through the thick blinds, barely lighting the room. The apartment was silent, too still, like the whole place existed in a vacuum.

Her phone was still in her jacket pocket. She pulled it out, the screen lighting up with a long list of missed calls.

Dax.

Her stomach twisted. She should've called him. Should've told him she was okay. But she wasn't. Not really. And she knew the second she saw him; he was going to see right through her.

The sound of keys jingling made her look up just as Ghost stepped through the front door, a brown paper bag in one hand, coffee cups in the other.

"Didn't peg you for the breakfast type," Erin muttered.

Ghost smirked slightly, setting the bag on the coffee table. "Didn't peg you for the type to actually sleep."

"I didn't. Much."

Ghost sat on the arm of the couch, offering her one of the coffee cups.

She took it reluctantly, taking a slow sip before exhaling. "Take me home."

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "Not the garage?"

"No. My place."

Ghost studied her for a second, then just nodded. "Alright. Finish your coffee. Then we go."

She downed it in one long sip. She wasn't stalling. She wasn't avoiding. She just wanted to get this over with.

The ride back was quieter than before.

Ghost didn't push conversation, and Erin wasn't in the mood to make small talk.

She just gripped the seat, eyes focused on the blurred city streets as they weaved through traffic. Every turn brought her closer to Dax. To whatever reaction was waiting for her. And she already knew, it wasn't going to be pretty.

Dax was at his place, pacing.

He had barely slept. Barely eaten. His phone was still in his hand, Erin's name sitting at the top of his recent calls. He had called. Texted. Nothing. It was eating at him, the uncertainty, the lack of control. And now, after everything, all he could do was wait. He was still in the middle of debating whether to drive to the garage or start searching the whole damn city when he heard the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine rolling up outside. His stomach dropped. He stormed toward the window, pushing the blinds aside just in time to see Ghost's matte black bike pull up outside.

With Erin on the back.

Dax was out the door before she even had time to climb off. "You've got to be kidding me." Dax's voice was low, dangerous.

Ghost pulled off his helmet, expression unreadable, but Erin was already moving before either of them could start swinging. "Dax..."

Dax ignored her, stepping forward, eyes locked on Ghost. "Get the hell off my driveway."

Ghost didn't move. "She wanted to come home. I brought her back."

"You think that earns you points? You took her, disappeared for the night, ignored her phone blowing up, and now you just drop her off like you're doing me a favour?"

Ghost just stared.

Dax took another step forward, fists clenched. "You should've never taken her in the first place."

"She made the choice."

That set Dax off.

He lunged, and Erin barely had time to react before she was pushing herself between them, shoving Dax back with both hands. "Stop it!"

Dax's breath was ragged, chest rising and falling fast. His eyes flickered over her, and that's when she saw it.

The moment he really took her in. The exhaustion on her face. The dark circles under her eyes. The way her hands were still slightly shaking.

Dax exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

Ghost watched, silent.

Erin turned, looking at him. "Go."

Ghost didn't argue. He just pulled his helmet back on, started the bike, and rolled away into the distance.

Dax let out a breath, hands still clenched.

Then, he turned back to Erin. "What the hell happened to you?"

She swallowed hard, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't know what to say.

The apartment door shut softly behind them, the tension still thick in the air even after Ghost had left.

Dax didn't say a word. Didn't press her for an explanation. Didn't start the argument she was bracing herself for. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw, before motioning toward the hallway. "Go shower." His voice was steady, quiet.

Erin blinked. "That's it? No yelling? No 'what the hell were you thinking' speech?"

Dax's eyes flickered over her again, taking in the way her shoulders were tense, the slight tremor in her hands, the exhaustion etched across her face. "You're still standing. That's good enough for now."

Erin opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't know what to do with this. With him being this calm. She wasn't used to it. She was expecting rage, frustration, shouting.

Instead, he was letting her breathe.

She swallowed, nodding stiffly before heading toward the bathroom.

The second she stepped under the hot stream of water, Erin let out a long, shaky breath. She didn't even realise how much tension she had been holding until now. Her muscles ached, her chest still felt too tight, her brain still a storm of information she didn't know how to process.

Ghost's words rang in her head.

Jamie didn't lose control. He was never supposed to win.

She braced her hands against the shower wall, eyes shut. No matter how much heat soaked into her skin, she couldn't shake the cold feeling in her stomach.

After a few more minutes, she finally forced herself to move, washing the last 24 hours off her skin as best she could. When she stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself, she caught her reflection in the fogged-up mirror. She looked... wrecked. Eyes slightly swollen. Lips pressed into a tight line. No wonder Dax hadn't said anything. She looked like hell. With a sigh, she dried off, pulled on an oversized shirt and sweats, and finally forced herself to go back out.

The smell of coffee drifted through the air when she stepped back into the living room.

Dax stood by the counter, sleeves pushed up, pouring two mugs.

Erin hesitated. She had never seen him like this, this quiet, this restrained.

He was always the level-headed one.

This was different. It wasn't anger. It was something else. Something heavier.

Dax didn't look up as he slid one of the mugs across the counter toward her. "Sugar's already in. Just the way you like it."

Erin swallowed. "Thanks." She took the cup, wrapping her hands around it, letting the warmth seep into her fingers.

Dax took a sip of his own before finally looking at her. "You okay?" That was it. No demanding explanations, no angry accusations, just that. Three simple words.

Erin almost couldn't answer. She wasn't ok, and she didn't want to admit it. So instead, she forced a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I will be."

Dax watched her for a moment, like he was trying to gauge if she was telling the truth. Then, he just nodded. "Alright." He didn't push. Didn't ask where she'd been, what Ghost had told her, why the hell she had ignored his calls.

She knew how much he wanted to ask. And the fact that he wasn't meant he didn't want to risk pushing her away. Erin swallowed, staring down into her coffee.

Dax leaned back against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. "You hungry?"

She blinked, caught off guard by the normalcy of the question. "What?"

Dax raised an eyebrow. "You know... food. That thing humans eat."

Erin let out a soft, exhausted laugh. "Haven't really thought about it."

Dax nodded. "Figured. I'll make something."

Erin furrowed her brows. "You cook?"

Dax smirked. "I survive."

He turned, opening the fridge, and Erin just stood there, watching him move like this was any other morning. Like she hadn't just disappeared. Like she hadn't just turned their world upside down. And that's when she realised, this was his way of saying he wasn't going anywhere. No pressure. No demands. Just actions.