The air was thick with gasoline and panic.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until you saw the flicker — that tiny, impossible spark that split the air in two. Time seemed to slow for a single heartbeat. The sound of your boots hitting the asphalt, the echo of your voice calling his name, “Filip!” — all of it blurred together into one shattering moment.

Then the world exploded.

The van went up in a roar of fire and steel, the blast wave slamming into you like a freight train. You hit the ground hard, your knees scraping the pavement, arms thrown over your head as debris rained down. The heat was suffocating — raw, blinding, alive. The force of it punched through your chest, a sound so violent it didn’t even register as sound, just a hollow ringing that swallowed everything.

When you looked up, your vision swam. The van was gone — replaced by a raging inferno, flames clawing at the sky. The smell of burning rubber, oil, and something worse — something human — filled the air.

“Chibs!” The scream ripped out of you before you could stop it, torn from somewhere deep and primal. You pushed yourself up, stumbling forward, lungs burning, ears ringing. You could barely hear Jax yelling your name behind you, or Clay shouting for someone to get her back. None of it mattered.

You saw him — just barely — through the smoke. A shadow moving, collapsing, trying to crawl away from the fire. His kutte was torn, back scorched, blood streaking his temple.

“Filip!” You dropped beside him, your hands already shaking as you tried to pull him clear of the flames. His body was heavy, limp, and for one terrifying second you thought he wasn’t breathing. Then he coughed — ragged, broken — and you swore your knees almost gave out with relief.

“Gotcha,” you breathed, tears streaking through the soot on your face. “I got you, baby, I got you—”

He tried to speak, voice hoarse, words lost in the chaos. You just kept pulling, half dragging him across the asphalt until the guys reached you. Tig and Juice helped lift him, Jax wrapping his arm around you, forcing you back as the fire raged higher.

“Get him to the truck!” Jax barked, his tone sharp but shaking. “Now!”

You tried to follow, but your legs barely worked. You could still feel the shock in your bones — that split second when the van went up, when you thought you’d watched him die.

Chibs looked at you as they carried him away, eyes glassy but focused — a silent promise in the chaos. Still here, love.

You fell to your knees in the middle of the street, the fire reflecting in your eyes, your hands trembling in the fading light.

And for the first time in a long time, you broke. Not as Jax Teller’s sister. Not as an old lady. Just as the woman who almost lost the man she loved in a heartbeat.