Chapter 16 BIKER TOO
For a full week, I had been training, but as I stood in front of the mirror, I didn’t feel ready.
Everyone spoke as if this was inevitable that I would win. And I understood them because on the street, absence was decay, and power faded the moment you disappeared. Reputation needed oxygen, and mine had been clinically dead for months.
I had spent the last hour trying to replicate Sienna’s combat look from the old videos I found. I was wearing black tactical leggings and a sports bra that showed off the ink crawling across my ribs.
But I couldn't help myself, I needed something that still showed that I was me… that I was Elena within this new body. So I wore a red hand band instead of the usual flat black Sienna favored. It was a tiny piece of me, a small spark of color in my new world of shadows.
I studied my new body, perplexed and anxious.
How had she risen to the top looking like this?
I was toned, yes. My muscles were defined in ways they never had been before, but compared to the fighters I had seen in the tapes, I still looked slender and even fragile. Even the female ones.
I couldn’t help but wonder how Sienna managed to dominate a space filled with people who looked like they could snap her in half.
I shook my head, letting out a short laugh. “Well, that’s hella sexist, Elena,” I muttered to myself. "This woman earned this title. She’s survived things you can't even imagine. Just let her take the lead."
"Were you just talking to yourself?"
I spun around to see Jax standing in the doorway, looking at me like I had grown another head.
He was wearing a heavy leather vest with nothing underneath, his arms looking like tree trunks.
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I tried not to look at his impressive physique.
"Just a little motivation, Jax,” I said, giving him an awkward smile. “Just giving myself a little pep talk."
I bit my lip as anxiety flared, immediately regretting my words. I really needed to get used to the fact that Sienna didn't explain herself.
Jax’s eyes dropped to my lips, his jaw tightening, and I saw heat flare in his gaze.
When he noticed I was staring at him, he cleared his throat and looked away, his neck turning a shade darker.
"The rest are waiting," he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual. Then he looked at my hand band, his brows furrowing in confusion. "That’s new..."
I almost opened my mouth to explain again, to explain that I liked the red. But I caught myself in time.
I straightened my back and brushed past him. "Hurry up. We shouldn't keep the others waiting."
We headed down downstairs and out of the garage.
The crew was standing out front beside a massive, matte-black military jeep that looked like it could drive through a brick wall.
I walked straight toward the passenger door, ready to climb in.
Leo and Kael stopped what they were doing and stared at me in surprise.
Mina laughed. "What are you doing, Si?"
"Following you guys?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat.
Jax stepped up beside me, looking worried. "You usually take your motorcycle, Si. You hate being boxed in."
My face went hot. I let out a forced, airy laugh. "Right. Of course. I just..."
Mina tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the red hand band. "And since when do we do colors?"
Before I could stutter out a response, Jax stepped between us. He gave Mina a sharp, warning look that shut her up instantly.
He turned to me and pointed toward the back of the garage. "Your bike is under the tarp in the corner, Si.” He said, giving me a soft, understanding look, “The keys are on the rack by the door. They are the ones with the silver skull."
He walked closer to me, his voice dropping so the others couldn't hear. "You can ride with us if you don't feel up to it, Si."
His thoughtfulness made my heart soften for a second. "I'm fine, Jax. I want to ride."
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "I put the address of the Pit into the bike’s GPS. Just in case you lose sight of the jeep in traffic."
"Thank you," I whispered.
I walked to the back of the garage, pulled the tarp away, and my breath hitched.
It was a Harley, but not like the bulky ones I usually saw. It was a custom job: low, sleek, and finished in a deep, midnight chrome.
My mind suddenly flashed back to Kanan. He used to love his Harley bikes.
I remembered one afternoon at the compound when I had asked him to teach me how to ride. I had thought that if I showed interest in the things he loved, he might actually look at me with something other than cold boredom. But he had laughed in my face and told me I was too weak to handle a machine like that. He said it in front of his lieutenants, making them roar with laughter while I stood there, humiliated.
"Guess who is riding a bike now, asshole," I muttered to the empty air, swinging my leg over the bike.
I climbed onto the leather seat, and my balance wavered under the weight of the machine for a moment. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting go of Elena. I let the muscle memory of the Siren take over.
I flicked the ignition, and the engine roared to life with a deep, guttural growl that vibrated through my entire body. I kicked the stand up and drove out of the garage and skidded to a stop right beside the jeep, banking with a sharp curve.
Jax gave me a proud, relieved look before slamming the jeep into gear, and we tore out into the street together.
As the wind whipped against my face, I felt free and powerful for the first time in two lives.
I started to accelerate, weaving through the traffic effortlessly like the bike’s handles were an extension of my own limbs.
I stood up slightly on the pegs and did a quick, daring wheelie. Behind me, I heard the jeep’s horn honk loudly. Mina was leaning out the window, cheering and whooping.
I laughed into the wind. I was happy. Truly happy.
I arrived first at the Pit that was located in an abandoned textile factory using the directions Jax had programmed into the GPS.
I dismounted and pulled off my helmet. As I walked toward the entrance, the crowd of people hanging around the door went silent.
"Is that... is that Siren?" a man whispered.
"No fucking way. I heard she was dead."
"Look at her. That's her. Siren is fucking back!"
The whispers followed me like a rising tide. Some people looked disappointed, likely because they had already placed bets against my return. But others looked at me with something close to fear and respect.
I was more shocked to see a group of young girls holding placards with ‘Siren’ written on them, staring at me with wide, shining eyes full of hero worship. Apparently, Siren had a fanbase that looked up to her.
Not knowing how Sienna interacted with her fans and others, I adopted the calm, cold expression I had studied in the tapes, not looking at anyone.
Immediately, my crew arrived, Jax me in, his massive frame clearing a path through the throng of people. While the rest went to join the crowd.
Inside, the noise dulled as Jax guided me toward the locker room.
He grabbed the wraps and began securing my hands with practiced ease. “You sure about this?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“You know you don’t have to prove anything.”
“I do.” I countered immediately.
He searched my face, but I held his gaze steadily.
A fighter in a torn robe walked past and nodded at me. "Good to see you back, Boss. We missed the entertainment."
"Thank you," I replied. "I am very pleased to be here."
Surprise flashed in the guy's eyes, and he paused, examining my smiling face like he was seeing a puzzle.
Jax’s hand tightened on my wrist. I froze. I had done it again. I had spoken like a polite princess, whereas Sienna would have just grunted.
Jax’s hand tightened slightly around my wrist. “She’s still a bit off from the meds,” he cut in smoothly. “Don’t distract her.”
The fighter raised his hands. “Fair enough. Good to see you back, Siren.”
When he left, I exhaled.
“You’re fine,” Jax muttered. “And remember, if you feel overwhelmed in there, throw a match.”
I nodded.
"Are you sure about this, Si?" he asked again, his eyes searching mine with concern.
"I'm ready," I said. My voice was steady, but my stomach was doing backflips.
The speakers in the main arena began to throb with heavy, distorted bass. A voice boomed over the intercom, muffled by the screams of the crowd.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—”
The crowd roared.
“They said she was gone! They said the Queen had fallen! But death couldn’t hold her!”
The chant began.
“SIREN! SIREN! SIREN!”
The roar of the crowd shook the walls of the locker room. My stomach flipped. God, they sounded like they loved her.
Jax squeezed my shoulder.“That’s your cue.”
The announcer grinned at me as I stepped into the ring. “SMALL BUT MIGHT! GIANT CRUSHER!” He yelled. “Back from the grave to reclaim her title…. SIREN!”
The roar of the audience shook the cage.
I raised a hand, trying to look like the confident champion they expected.
Then, the music changed to something low and menacing.
The other side of the cage opened, and A man stepped out.
My heart sank into my stomach as I took him in. He looked even worse than he did in videos.
He was a mountain with small, dark eyes filled with a terrifying, mindless hunger. He looked like he was built to crush bones.
My mouth went dry, and the cage suddenly felt very small as he gave me a predatory smirk.
All my confidence flushed away.
Maybe another coma wouldn’t be so bad right about now.