This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

HIS BABY: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance copyright 2017 by April Lust. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

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Contents

HIS BABY: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

DEFILED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Wicked Bones MC)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Angel’s Keepers MC)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

WRECKED: The Beasts MC

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

More by April Lust

DEFILED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Wicked Bones MC)

CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Angel’s Keepers MC)

WRECKED: The Beasts MC

His Broken Angel: Inferno Hunters MC

His Perfect Angel: Shadow Reapers MC

His Precious Angel: Steel Gods MC

His Little Angel: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

SINNER’S PASSION: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

SINNER’S TOUCH: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

SINNER’S KISS: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

SINNER’S LUST: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

HIS BABY: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

By April Lust

HE CAME TO KILL ME. HE STAYED TO SCREW ME. HE LEFT TO SAVE ME.

Death is supposed to be a hooded figure with a scythe, not a sexy hitman with abs of steel.

And don’t even get me started on his massive, rock-hard… equipment.

I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my infant son from this killer.

Even if it means letting him own me completely.

In any other circumstance, he would have been something out of my dreams.

Tall, ripped, tattooed, with eyes like diamonds and arms like pythons…

He was sex appeal personified.

And the ragged growl rumbling in his chest made me want to do things I’d never done before.

But this wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

Because he wasn’t there to sweep me off my feet…

He was there to put me in my grave.

I’ve gone through too much to let this be the end of me, though.

I’ve faced hell to protect my son.

And if this devil thinks he’s gonna be the one to take my baby from me…

Well, he better think twice.

Because I’ll fight.

I’ll f*ck.

I’ll do anything and everything.

The hitman wants my body?

Fine.

He can have my hands, my lips, everything between my legs.

He takes all of that, along with something I never thought he’d touch:

My heart.

Oh, God…

Am I falling for my killer?

Chapter One

Evan

Twenty miles to go. Twenty miles and then Evan Weaver was done with this shit. That was his mantra as he sailed down the road to the target’s hiding place. Last one, last one, last one, I promise it’s the last one, just do this last thing and you’re free. This was the last godawful piece of shit gig he would ever have to take, and then it was just golden beaches until the end of his days.

He gripped the steering wheel harder, flexing his fingers. His hands felt tired these days, worn-out, like they’d seen and done too much for one lifetime. Sometimes he felt like an old man even though he was still in his thirties. He was tired of running. He was tired of fighting. He just wanted to rest.

Ten miles to go, he thought as he passed another exit on the highway. A little spark of heat ran up his spine, and he pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator. For some reason a little knot of anxiety had formed at the bottom of his stomach. It was like it was his first time all over again, even though it was his last. In the past, whenever Salvatore or any other mob boss had given him an assignment, he’d haggle with him until he hiked the price up. Evan was a businessman that way. But this time Sal had told him, “Name your price. Anything.” So Evan named enough to finally get out of the business and head down to South America. He had a boat ticket already, just waiting for him inside his pants pocket.

Evan took the exit to the motel, feeling his abdominal muscles tighten in anticipation. He parked across the street, in a dark corner where nobody would notice him right away.

That was the first rule of killing: do not be seen. Ever. Don’t screw yourself out of the element of surprise.

Most of Evan’s targets were dead before they’d even realized what was happening. Not this time, though, Evan thought to himself. This time, it would take several long minutes to do the job. He didn’t have to strangle her. He could have just decided on a gun or even a knife, but when the idea had struck him earlier it was too sweet to let go of. As Evan shut off his engine, he looked to the backseat, where the Christmas lights were waiting for him. That’s how he’d do it, with the pretty lights around the woman’s neck.

Okay, he knew it was sick, probably sicker than any other hit he’d ever carried out. But it was too perfect. Christmas was the reason he was in this business in the first place, right? That one Christmas long ago, when his dad walked out, had set everything in motion.

Evan locked his car, carrying the Christmas lights under his arm, before crossing the parking lot to the girl’s motel room. The contents of his stomach squirmed like worms trapped under a boot. Why am I so fucking nervous? Evan wondered. He’d done this hundreds of times. Usually he did it with a cool head, hands steady and focused on the mission. But right now, he couldn’t seem to calm down. His blood rushed inside his veins, faster and faster with each step he took toward the girl’s room. Kill the girl, get the boy. Kill the girl, get the boy. Kill the girl, get the boy, get out, get free.

Evan sighed deeply as he finally approached the door of the motel room. In his mind, he was already a thousand miles away, on a beach somewhere where the sun blazed down hard on his body, where there was always an ice-cold drink in his hand and a scantily clad woman by his side. That’s what he’d do after this. He’d get a drink at a bar somewhere and find a girl for the night. It’d been so long since he’d spent the night in a woman’s arms. His body ached for it.

He pulled out his lock-pick, ready to go. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his hands. He clutched the Christmas lights harder with his free hand, wrapping the cord around his wrist. Evan was ready. His life was about to begin.

***

Hannah

Hannah was about to die. She was certain of it. Her hand paused in midair, just about to put the crowning touch on the Christmas tree, when she heard it. A scratching noise from outside. Her eyes darted over to Alex, but he was still asleep, looking as peaceful as ever. Oh, baby, if you only knew, she thought. All of this: getting away from Salvatore, going on the run, staying in shitty motels in the middle of nowhere—all of it was for Alex. If she hadn’t had him she would probably still be under Salvatore’s thumb, doing whatever he wanted.

For a second she was unsure if she’d imagined the noise out of paranoia. But then she heard it again. A slight little jingle, right outside her door.

Fuck. “How the hell did they find me?” she whispered to herself, slowly walking forward to the front of the motel room, trying hard to avoid making any noise. She’d been smart. She’d paid only in cash, for everything, terrified of leaving a paper trail for Salvatore to trace. She knew he had cops in his pocket, so there was no limit to what he could do if he put his mind to it. She’d even broken into different, anonymous-looking cars every other day to keep Salvatore’s goons from tracking her physically. When she first moved in with Salvatore years ago, she thought her days of crime were far behind her. She never thought she’d be in this situation ever again. But things changed.

There was another scratching sound at the door. Jesus, fuck, no, please, no, Hannah silently begged God or whoever else could possibly be listening. What could she do? Dash through the window and scream for help in the parking lot? There was no guarantee that anyone in the area was even awake, let alone willing to help her. And besides, how could she get through the back window quickly enough with Alex in her arms? He was still a baby. He couldn’t even walk on his own yet.

So she’d have to pick fight over flight. But how could she fend off the intruder? She didn’t have a gun. She didn’t even have a very sharp knife in this motel room. All she had was a couple sentimental objects. She hadn’t had time to pack very much when she ran off. Hannah quickly surveyed the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon, when her eyes landed on it.

Her dead grandmother’s frying pan.

That would have to do. Hannah grabbed it and walked over to the door, trying to control her breathing. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she wondered if the intruder could hear it through the door. The doorknob rattled again, louder this time, and then there was a clicking noise. Shit. The door was unlocked. Any second now. Hannah’s palms were sweating, threatening to make her drop the frying pan. She breathed as deeply as she could and screwed her eyes shut. I can do this. I can do this. For Alex.

The door swung open, and Hannah brought her arms down, crashing the frying pan down on the intruder’s head as hard as she could.

***

Evan

Evan’s mind emerged from the fog, a huge throbbing pain attacking the back of his skull. Where am I? All he could tell was that his arms were bound behind his back, probably with duct tape, and there was something else tying his legs together.

“Waaaaaaaaaah!” A high, shrill cry pierced Evan’s ears. He fought the urge to cringe. For now, whoever had captured him thought he was still knocked out. He had to gather as much information as possible without opening his eyes or revealing that he was awake. Then, he’d find a way out of his restraints and attack at the right moment.

So, clearly a baby was crying. Very fucking loudly. “Waaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” a woman’s voice whispered. The woman, Evan realized. The target. He’d seen a picture of her before. There was no way she could overpower him on her own. Was there a man hiding in here with her?

But no matter how hard Evan strained his ears, he couldn’t make anything else out. Goddammit. He opened his eyes a little bit, just to stare through his eyelashes. He could see a figure walking back and forth, back and forth in front of him. Evan quickly shut his eyes all the way again, since he was clearly being closely monitored. Okay, so he’d just have to break out of the tape holding him before opening his eyes.

Evan flexed as hard as he could, digging his nails into the edge of the duct tape, trying to pry it off his skin. But it barely budged. He pulled harder, but then the tape made a loud scratching sound. Evan heard the pitter-patter of footsteps in front of him come to a halt. Dammit. There goes the element of surprise. Oh, well. He’d have to handle it another way.

Rule two of killing: be adaptable. Each target was different. Each one demanded a different approach. This one would need to be head-on.

Evan blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. The woman had resumed pacing back and forth around the small motel room, the baby in her arms. “Shh, shh, little one, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured into the kid’s head. Evan took the opportunity to look down at his own body and see what was restraining him. His arms were wrapped around the back of a wooden chair, bound in the back with tape, but his feet were restrained with something else. He pulled his head forward as far as it could go to stare down at his feet and what was binding him. It was the Christmas lights, wrapped around his legs so tightly he could barely move. Trapped by Christmas. How poetic, he thought.

For a minute Evan thought the woman still hadn’t noticed he’d opened his eyes, and he immediately flexed every muscle in his body to attempt standing up, but it was no use. Fuck.

“Salvatore send you?” the woman asked without looking up from her child.

Evan didn’t answer, instead he just stared at the woman as she walked back and forth across the room. Hannah, that was her name. Was she really alone here? How the hell had she overpowered him? That had never happened to Evan in almost twenty years of killing.

“Did Salvatore send you or not?” Hannah asked, her voice higher and louder this time. She was pissed. And scared, Evan realized. The terror was coming off of her in waves. Good. Evan could work with that.

“You already know the answer,” Evan said, using his voice as a cover so he could mess around with the duct tape some more. Even as he pulled at it harder, straining all of his muscles and tendons, it didn’t budge. How the fuck did this random woman tie him up so well?

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” the woman muttered under her breath, hiking the baby up higher in her arms. “Did you track me or does Salvatore know where I am?”

“Listen,” Evan said, speaking as softly as possible. He wanted to seem likable now, trustworthy. “You need to think here. You’re in a rough spot right now. You need to be smart.”

Hannah clicked her teeth. “No shit,” she huffed under her breath. She began to walk faster, clearly getting more and more nervous as the seconds ticked by.

“I was sent here to kill you,” Evan said. “And I can still do the job. But if you let me go now, I won’t.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy, original,” Hannah said. “How’d you come up with that one?”

“I mean it,” Evan argued. “Believe me, it’s the smartest decision you’ve got right now. Untie me and we’ll talk.”

“I don’t—I don’t have time for that,” Hannah said, pausing to fake a smile at her son as he cooed softly in her arms. “I gotta think, I gotta get out of this…” She was muttering more to herself than to anyone else in the room, and Evan could see the panic on her face plain as day. It was weird, sitting here like this, watching her. He’d never spent this much time around a target in his entire career. Fitting that the last one would be such a pain in the ass to deal with. The life couldn’t just let him leave in peace, could it?

***

Hannah

Salvatore couldn’t just let her go in peace, could he? He had to hunt her down like an animal, send hitmen after her until he got what he wanted. Now she had to be responsible for this idiot who was clearly still trying to murder her. There was no way she was letting him out of his restraints. She could tell he was trying to get out of them on his own, and if she weren’t freaking the fuck out right now she would have laughed at him. At least her Girl Scout training was good for one thing. That and growing up in a family of criminals definitely came in handy.

“Does Salvatore know where I am?” she asked, walking over to the crib she’d assembled earlier to put Alex down.

The guy just stared at her for a second before opening his mouth to reply. “Hannah. That’s your name, right?”

Hannah groaned. Did this guy actually think he was being slick, pretending to get to know her and acting all friendly? How dumb did he think she was?

“Okay, let’s try again,” Hannah said, turning back to face the guy head-on. “Does Salvatore know where I am or not? It’s a simple yes or no.”

“Look, listen to me. You wanna be smart in this situation, Hannah—”

Hannah grabbed the frying pan off the coffee table and whacked it, firmly but not as hard as before, right onto the intruder’s knee. “Fuck!” the guy cried out, his face screwing up in pain.

“Does. Salvatore. Know. Where. We are,” Hannah spat out, holding the pan above his legs.

“Yes, fine, yes, he knows where you are, exactly where you are,” the intruder replied.

“Shit!” Hannah hissed, smacking the coffee table with the frying pan. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Yeah, so you’re pretty much fucked,” the hitman said. “Unless…”

“Shut up!” Hannah yelled at him. “Shut the fuck up. You speak when I tell you to!” She buried her head in her hands, her pulse pounding in her temples. “When were you supposed to have done it? Like, were you supposed to call him and tell him it’s done?”

“Am I allowed to speak now?” the guy asked sarcastically.

“Yes, fucking answer me,” Hannah shot back, picking up the frying pan again. She wasn’t intending to hit him again unless she needed to, but it felt better to hold onto something than to clench her hands into useless fists. She saw the guy flinch, like he was preparing himself to be hit again, and for a second she felt guilty, but then she snapped out of it. This guy had come here to kill her, after all. He didn’t deserve any of her pity.

“No, there’s no signal. I’ve never failed before. As far as he’s concerned, you’re as good as dead.”

Hannah nodded, more to herself than to the hitman, before kneeling down and yanking a suitcase out from under the bed. She’d only arrived here the other day, but it was time to go. She and Alex had to get out of here as soon as possible. They had to take the opportunity when hopefully no other eyes were on them to get out of the country, somewhere where Salvatore had no power. She sloppily tossed shirts and pants and packs of diapers into the suitcase.

“Where are you going?” the hitman asked.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna tell you,” Hannah scoffed, throwing bottles of baby formula into the bag before rushing over to the crib to grab a sleeping Alex. In truth, she didn’t know where she was going yet. She had to get out of the country, maybe go to Mexico first before heading further down south, but she’d have to sneak in. For all she knew Salvatore had people waiting at the border for her.

“What are you—what are you gonna do with me?” the hitman asked, but for a weird reason he didn’t sound scared. He sounded…almost resigned. For some reason, it made Hannah feel sympathy for the poor bastard. He’s not a poor bastard, she argued silently to herself. He’s an evil murderous monster that does Salvatore’s bidding. He’s the enemy.

Still, she felt enough pity for the guy to answer him. “I’m gonna hit you over the head again and leave you here. Eventually Salvatore’s other goons will show up and find you.”

The hitman was silent a long moment, just watching her as she hurriedly changed Alex’s diaper. She glanced over at the crib, considering whether or not to take it in her stolen car. Hannah had more than enough room in her trunk for it, but it was a matter of time. She finally decided against it. She’d just have to steal another crib later. Hannah swung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and held onto Alex with her other arm. She was halfway to the door when the guy spoke again. “Wait. Stop. Please.”

***

Evan

Evan had to force the words out between clenched teeth. He’d never begged before in his life, but, hey, there’s a first time for everything, right? “Please. Just hear me out.”

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought it might break through his body and land on the floor next to Hannah. Was this what all his victims felt like, all these years? Was this what it was like, to know that you were about to die? “Just…wait. Please.”

Miraculously, Hannah’s whole body turned to face him. “What? Talk.”

“If you leave me here, they’ll kill me. If they don’t, Salvatore definitely will.”

“You’re the best hitman he’s got, right?” Hannah said. “Never fucked up before. I’m sure he’ll forgive it just this once. Maybe even send you after me again.”

Evan shook his head. “No, come on, you know you’re lying. He’s gonna put a bullet in my brain just to prove a point to the other guys in his employ. You know him.”

Hannah nodded. “I do.”

“So, please, just…just untie me. I won’t do anything to you, I promise.”

She laughed and turned her face back to her son, staring down at him with warmth in her eyes. “Not a fucking chance. No way.”

“Think about it,” Evan said. “If they come up here and find me, they’ll know you’re alive, and they’ll keep looking. But if we’re both gone, there’s a chance they’ll think I killed you and went off to enjoy my retirement.”

Hannah shook her head. “No, they’re not that stupid. They’ll put it together soon enough.”

“But at least it’ll give you time to get away. If you leave me here, they’ll demand to know what direction you drove off in, what car was in the parking lot that isn’t here now, before they kill me. And they’re better at torturing people than you are. They’ll get it out of me. You can be sure of that.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, but she bit down on her lip, turning to stare at him as she considered her options. If he weren’t bound up, Evan would squirm uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. It was like she was trying to judge his soul, like she was weighing out all the good and bad and in-between things about him to determine if he deserved to live.

“Right,” she finally whispered, tearing her eyes away from him. They’re beautiful eyes, Evan realized. They were multicolored when the light hit them, deep brown dissolving into deep greys and blues and greens and black. It was fitting, that someone so beautiful would put him to his death.

Hannah walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind her. Evan felt his heart fall. He was going to die. He was certain of it now. He weighed his options. Stay here and rot, waiting for however long it took Salvatore to get suspicious and send someone to check on him. Or, he could find a way to struggle out of his restraints and go after her. Maybe if he killed her quickly enough, Salvatore would call it even and Evan could still get away from all of this relatively unscathed. He was scratching at any edge of the duct tape he could touch with his fingers, desperately clawing at it, when Hannah walked back into the room.

“You came back?”

“I had to put Alex in his car seat,” Hannah explained. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” For a beautiful moment, Evan thought his restraints were about to be cut, but instead she just untangled the Christmas lights around his legs, tossing them off into a far corner of the room before forcing him to his feet. For a second he was tempted to kick her in the face, knock her down and then force her to take the duct tape off his wrists, but he hesitated too long. A second later, Hannah grabbed the duct tape and bound his feet together more securely than before. Dammit. Next, she lifted the frying pan off the coffee table, her fingers clenched so tightly around it that her knuckles shone white. The silent message to Evan was clear: obey or get hit.

“Walk,” she ordered him.

Evan complied as best as he could, hopping forward in the general direction of the door. It took all of the coordination he had not to fall over. He successfully crossed the threshold of the motel room, hopping out into the cold parking lot. He considered, for a stupidly hopeful moment, whether he could just hop away, find someone to untie him and run out of the country as planned. But…in the back of his mind he was aware that Salvatore would never stop chasing him if he didn’t kill this girl. In South America, it wouldn’t be an issue. Salvatore didn’t have any power outside of the States, but it would take Evan a long time to make it down there.

Hannah shoved the edge of the frying pan into his back, urging him to hop faster. “Get a move on,” she demanded.

When they approached a blue SUV, he was left alone for another second while Hannah opened the door to the driver’s side. “How am I supposed to get in?” he asked.

“Hold your fucking horses, Mr. Whiny,” she said before popping the trunk.

The realization dawned on Evan ridiculously slowly, the way cold rain starts out as a sprinkle and transforms into a downpour. “Oh, shit, come on!” he complained. “I’m not going in the trunk.”

“I’m not sure why you think you have any other option,” Hannah shot back, walking back around the car to grab at his elbow and shove him into the open trunk. “In. Get in.”

Evan groaned but did as he was told. It made sense, after all. He had come here to kill the girl and take the boy. There wasn’t exactly a long list of reasons why she should trust him.

He crammed his body into the trunk, which on the bright side opened out into the rest of the car, so he could breathe at the very least. On the not-so-bright-side, there was a cage, a fucking cage of metal blocking the trunk from the backseat. So there was no way he could slither up on his hands and knees and get to her from the back. It was like she had planned for this very scenario. Who the hell was this chick?

Hannah shut the trunk’s door and walked around to the driver’s seat, quickly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

For a minute, Evan just concentrated on breathing. On the one hand, he’d never felt this defeated in his entire life. Never before had anyone made him feel so vulnerable, so weak. Well, not since my dad…Evan admitted to himself, but he quickly shut off that train of thought before it went off the rails. On the other hand, he figured, he still had a chance here. He breathed deeply, trying to anchor himself and stay calm. The longer he was with her, the more opportunities he’d have at finishing the job. Sooner or later, she would get tired of making him hop around, and if he could get her to cut the restraints, it was game over. I just have to wait for the right moment, he told himself, and I can still fix this. I can make this right.

Chapter Two

Hannah

Hannah knew it was risky to take the hitman with her. But she felt like she had no choice. If she left him to die, she was no better than Salvatore, was she? Doing whatever it took to survive, stomping on anyone and anything to make the process easier. Maybe that was necessary. Maybe to live on your own terms you had to be that way. Maybe you had to be selfish to survive.

But Hannah wasn’t ready to believe that. Not yet. Not while there was still a single drop of hope left in her body.

And besides, he was right. An empty motel room would create more questions than answers, and it’d buy her time. But still, she’d have to get rid of him at some point soon. I have to get rid of this car, too, she realized. I’ve had it for too long. The cops might be looking for stolen vehicles in this area.

The cops. Hannah had this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she should’ve just gone to them from the beginning, told them everything about Salvatore and his crime syndicate. Maybe they could have protected her and Alex. But Salvatore had at least some of the cops in the area in his pocket, and there was no way for her to tell which ones were trustworthy ahead of time. Better to just handle things on her own, the way she always had.

Alex started whining, the kind of small little noises he’d always make before he started wailing. “Shit,” Hannah whispered under her breath. “Come on, Alex, don’t do this, please.” She couldn’t comfort him, get far enough away from the motel to shake off Salvatore’s goons, and find a new vehicle all at once. It was times like this that made her wish she wasn’t a single parent. Even when she’d lived with Salvatore, it was like this, always doing everything by herself. She loved Alex more than anything in the world, but she couldn’t deny that it got exhausting after a while.

Alex started to whine louder and louder. “Shit, come on, please no,” Hannah quietly prayed. Maybe she could pull over and hold him for a bit until he calmed down.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a black SUV in the lane next to her, trailing her by a few yards. Hannah felt her tongue go dry immediately. Maybe it’s nothing, she tried to reassure herself. But maybe it’s Salvatore’s men, using one of their cars to track you.

The baby started crying louder, but Hannah had bigger fish to fry right now. Without turning on her blinker, she quickly made a sharp turn at the closest exit, speeding down the ramp until she hit the main road, then turned again, and again, and again, trying to make herself as hard to follow as possible. She’d stay on backroads for a bit, find another car, and then get back on the highway later. You’re not stealing my son today, she silently vowed. Not today.

While Hannah was looking out the windows, scanning for parked cars, Alex began all-out wailing. Hannah sighed, wishing she could just snap her fingers and make Alex snap out of it. But there was no easy fix. Still, she tried one of her old tricks, one that used to work when he was a tiny little newborn.

“Hello, my love, hello, my darling, my sweetheart,” Hannah sang. “Hello, my sweetie, my baby, my angel mine.”

Alex went back to whining under his breath, whimpering a little instead of crying.

“My love, my love, my darling love, don’t you know you’re safe? Don’t you know I’ve got you? My love, my little love, don’t you know you’re mine?” Hannah made up the lyrics and the melody as she went along, singing in the sweetest, most calming voice she could manage under the circumstances.

Alex went silent. Hannah kept on singing, a little softer now, hoping to lull him back to sleep. “My little sweetheart, my little gumdrop, my little baby doll, don’t you know you’re mine?” She could hear Alex smack his lips a little, a telltale sign that he was about to fall asleep. “My little angel,” she finished, just in time to hear his breathing become deep and regular.

Well, I’m still good at one thing, she told herself. Sometimes she felt like the shittiest mother in the entire world. She couldn’t protect Alex, let alone help him be happy and healthy. He deserved better than her.

“You’ve got a nice voice.”

For a second Hannah’s entire body tensed up, before she remembered the idiot in the trunk of her car. “Shut it,” she said back, clenching her hands harder on the steering wheel. He was probably trying to manipulate her, get her to let her guard down while he broke out of his restraints and choked the life out of her.

“I’m just saying. It was nice,” the hitman said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for you, so can it,” Hannah shot back as they rode over a pothole.

“Ow!”  He must have hit his head or something.

“Don’t be a little bitch,” Hannah taunted him. “Aren’t you supposed to be a big tough guy, Mr. Sal’s Best Hitman?”

“My name is Evan,” the guy said.

“Okay, Evan,” Hannah said. “New rule: no talking while the baby is asleep.”

“You didn’t gag me, you know,” Evan said from the back. “You really should have done that.”

The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck prickled with irritation. “I can still pull over and do it, you know.”

“Nah, can’t do that, can you?” Evan said. “You gotta put as many miles between this car and the motel as possible. You can’t stop yet.”

“You know, you’re awfully fucking cocky for someone I’ve got tied up in the back of my car,” Hannah reminded him. His attitude was really grating on her nerves.

But there was a long pause before the guy spoke again. “You’re right,” Evan said.

“I am?” Hannah said back, feeling a little bit shocked that she had won the argument that quickly.

“Yeah, I’m fucked,” Evan admitted. “But it could be worse.”

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me,” Hannah said. She really couldn’t imagine how things could get more fucked-up than they were right now.

“Well, you’re not going to kill me. We’ve established that already.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. Mind games. Great. Just what she needed right now. “How do you figure that?”

“You would have left me for dead already if you were capable of it,” Evan said, his voice casual and light, like it was just obvious.

She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel, trying to get some feeling back in her hands. Who the hell did this guy think he was, taunting her like this? Where did he get off belittling her when he was the one without the power in this situation? “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know,” she said, “thinking you’re at all aware of what I’m capable of.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure you couldn’t do it. I’ve spent a lot of my life around killers and frankly, you’re just not one of them,” Evan said in that same self-assured tone of voice.

Hannah took another sharp turn, smiling a little at the sound of Evan’s body hitting the side of the trunk, followed by Evan cursing under his breath in pain. Usually she’d feel bad and apologize for something like that, but he was a murderous dick, right? She could take out her anger and frustration on him without feeling guilty.

“You still sure about that?” she yelled back at the hitman. She didn’t know why she felt like she had something to prove to this asshole. She knew what she was capable of. But for some reason it just rankled her nerves, having this guy basically tell her that she wasn’t tough. He had no idea what she’d lived through, what battles she’d seen.

“Yeah, I am,” he responded. “You didn’t leave me tied up in the motel room. That says it all.”

“Well, don’t be so sure about that,” Hannah replied. “When I find a new car, I’ll just dump this one and leave you in the trunk. But hey, maybe you won’t starve to death. Salvatore’s boys might find you before that happens.”

Evan was silent for a long moment. Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, bothered by the sudden return of the quiet. Her own words hung in the air, hovering over her ominously. Why did it bother her so much, saying stuff like that? She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty. This guy was a murderer. He’d admitted it. He would kill her at the first opportunity just to steal her son and bring him back to a life of mayhem and madness. He didn’t deserve any of her sympathy. But still…somehow her stomach turned over and over at the realization of what she’d said, how coldly she’d said it. My time with Salvatore changed me, she thought to herself. I’m not the person I used to be.

But maybe the person she used to be was weak, she argued back to herself. Hannah from ten years ago wouldn’t have been able to survive tonight. She’d been through hell and the flames had forged her into something new, something a little terrifying.

Sometimes to live you have to die inside, she thought. And living would have to be good enough.

***

Evan

Evan tried to quietly pry the duct tape off his wrists with his teeth, but it was no good. He sighed deeply, letting his arms fall back down in defeat. If he was being honest with himself, the girl had scared him, really scared him. He’d never been close to death before. Not really. But tonight, it was bearing down on him like a vulture, and he was the roadkill.

What can I say to her to make her change her mind? Come on. Come on, think. You can do this.

But really, he wasn’t so sure. He’d already tried and failed at one tactic. Intimidation clearly didn’t work on her. She was hyper-aware that she had the power in this situation, and from what Evan could tell, she was enjoying it.

He’d have to come at it from another angle, leverage her fear to his advantage.

“Salvatore won’t stop, you know,” he said. “With anyone else, he might, but you have his son. He’ll never let go of you. You know that.”

Maybe Hannah hadn’t heard him, for Evan couldn’t make out any response from the front seat. He decided to keep trying anyway. “Salvatore told me to name my price, you know. He wants his son back more than anything in the world. He’ll never stop.”

“Why—why are you saying this?” Hannah said from the front.

Evan licked his dry lips. “You need help. Even if you’ve gotten them off your tail for tonight, Salvatore’s got eyes everywhere. He’ll find you. Maybe he’ll even put out an Amber Alert on your son, have the cops out there looking for you. You’re really fucked, Hannah.”

Out of nowhere, Hannah slammed on the brakes, sending Evan crashing into the cage separating the trunk from the backseat. “Jesus fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wishing he could rub his head to get the pain to fade.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” Hannah said, her voice elevated. She sounded more than annoyed now. She sounded angry.

“I’m just being direct with you. You deserve the truth,” Evan said. “Look, Salvatore thought it would be best to send one guy after you, right? That way it’d be clean, simple. I’d come in, do the job, and you’d just be one more dead girl nobody knows in a motel room that nobody cares about. But I fucked up. You know what that means?”

“You’re an incompetent prick?” Hannah suggested.

“Besides that,” Evan said. He got the sense it wasn’t smart to argue with her about his competence right now. “I’m the best guy in his network. He knows that. He won’t send just one guy after you again. He’ll send a dozen; he’ll send a hundred. You won’t be able to fight them all off. You won’t get lucky every time. Eventually…”

Evan could tell that Hannah’s brain was speeding up, rolling faster and faster with each passing second. She was terrified.

“Eventually they’ll find you, Hannah,” Evan said. He needed to keep pushing. The more desperate she felt, the better his chances were. He needed to knock her off-balance as much as possible. Goddamn, I’m a piece of shit, he thought to himself. But oh, well. You do what you have to in order to survive, right?

“So what? What’s your point?” she finally said, but her voice was softer than before.

“How do you think you’re going to survive here? The odds are stacked against you.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Hannah said. “But Salvatore’s not as big as he thinks. He doesn’t have shit going on outside of this country. Soon enough me and Alex won’t even be on this continent anymore, and he won’t be able to touch us.”

Evan considered what she said. It wasn’t a bad plan. He almost laughed at the realization that they had the same dream. He wanted nothing more than to leave all of his crime connections behind forever and find paradise on a South American beach. “Smart,” he said. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Yeah, well, you’re dumber than you look,” Hannah shot back.

“You’ve still got problems, though,” Evan continued, ignoring the insult. “How are you gonna get out of the country without anyone noticing you? Do you know how to do that?”

Hannah said nothing but took another sharp turn, causing Evan to slide into the side of the trunk again.

“You need help,” Evan said. “You need someone that can recognize the guys Salvatore’ll send after you. You need someone that can help you in a fight, because it will come to that. You need me.”

Hannah cackled loudly in the front seat, but there was no humor in the sound. She grumbled under her breath after she finished laughing.

“What was that?” Evan asked, starting to feel more annoyed himself.

“Why the fuck should I want your help? Like you said, you fucked up. For all I know, you’re useless. I can’t afford dead weight.”

She’s right, Evan thought. She has no reason to think I’m useful. “Just give me a chance,” Evan said. “Think about it, Hannah. What do you have to lose?”

“Um, you could fucking kill me and steal my son. No, thank you,” she shot back.

Evan’s stomach dropped. She really was smarter than she seemed. He was still biding his time, thinking of ways he could get her to let her guard down so he could finish the job. She was right not to trust him.

Except…he was struggling to picture how he would do it. The Christmas lights were gone, and somehow without that detail it didn’t seem worth it anymore. He used to think of himself as an artist, controlling every last detail of his crimes, molding every aspect of his murders with his hands. Most of the time, they were utterly immaculate. But now…Hannah had ruined it. There was no way he could kill her now and feel any sense of satisfaction from it. He’d already failed.

Rule number three of killing: if you’re not having fun, what’s the point?

So much for one last job before his retirement.

But if I don’t kill her…Salvatore will have my head, he argued to himself silently.

Unless I get out of the country before he finds me, he answered himself.

Evan almost laughed out loud. He’d made himself an escape route without even meaning to. Somehow in bullshitting Hannah, he managed to make a real alternate plan.

“You need help,” he repeated himself. But this time he meant it. “You need someone who’s used to this shit. I can protect you.”

Hannah was quiet in the front seat. A second later, the car slowed down and then rolled to a stop. Evan heard the front door open and then slam shut. Hannah had gotten out of the car. For one beautiful moment, he thought she was about to walk around the car and let him out of the trunk. But instead he heard her walk past the car and continue onto the gravel on the side of the road.

Evan breathed heavily, his entire body tense with anxiety. What was she doing?

A minute later, Hannah returned to the car and pulled Alex out of his car seat. “What are you doing?” Evan asked loudly, trying to get her attention.

“I found a car,” she said. “Alex and I are gonna keep going.”

“How did you—how did you find a car with keys in it that quickly?” Evan asked, completely confused.

He could see Hannah shrug through the open spaces in the cage. “I guess you could say I’ve got a secret talent. I’m adaptable.”

“And what about me?” Evan asked, his heart pounding in his throat.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess that’s up to you,” Hannah said, cradling Alex in her arms.

Evan bit his lip, using the pain to anchor him. He couldn’t afford to panic. He had to be calm. He had to be smart. He had to talk his way out of this situation.

“You know that if you leave me here, you’re leaving me for dead,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and still.

Even through the metal bars of the cage, he could see Hannah frown. “Look, you keep saying you’re the number one hitman, right? Fight your way out if you’re so badass.”

“I’m a sitting duck like this, you know. Can’t defend myself. They’ll shoot me in the head, just as soon as they pump me for information on you.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be happy to tell them,” Hannah said bitterly.

Evan sighed deeply. This wasn’t working. She was too distrusting, for very good reasons. He couldn’t get her to believe him. So he’d have to try a different approach. “You’re right, you know,” he said. That made her lock eyes with him, those deep eyes staring at him through the cage. “You don’t have any reason to believe that I’m not still trying to kill you. And hell, maybe I am. But the longer it takes, the more pointless it’d be for me to try. If I kill you twelve hours from now, it won’t save me. Salvatore will kill me for being incompetent. You were supposed to be dead hours ago. I was already supposed to be on my way back. The longer you keep me alive, the more Salvatore will want me dead.”

Hannah shrugged again, rubbing the back of Alex’s head. “So?”

“So, my incentive to kill you shrinks and shrinks every second. And every second, Salvatore gets closer and closer to finding us.” Hannah flinched a little at that, so Evan pushed forward with it, capitalizing on her emotional reaction. “Yeah, that’s right. Us. We’re both in danger here.”

“Why should I help you? You deserve to be killed by Salvatore,” Hannah said, but her voice shook a little.

“I do,” Evan admitted. “You’re right. So I guess it’s up to you.”

Hannah cleared her throat and left the car with Alex in one arm and the car seat in the other. Evan flinched as the door slammed behind her. So that’s it. That’s the end, Evan thought to himself. Here’s where I die, in the back of a shitty stolen SUV. So much for South America. So much for a life worth living.

***

Hannah

Hannah inhaled deeply, trying to get her arms and legs to stop shaking. Evan’s words had disturbed her somehow. She didn’t even know what it was exactly that had her so shaken up, but his voice echoed in her head. “I guess it’s up to you.” Why was that so terrifying, having control over a man’s life?

She hurriedly opened the door of the new car and secured Alex in the car seat in the backseat. What do I do? Do I leave him? Salvatore’ll kill him. But if I bring him, he might still kill me, no matter what he says about the timeline.

He offered to help me, Hannah thought. She wasn’t sure how useful he’d be in a fight. She’d overcome him easily enough with the frying pan. But Evan was right that he’d be better at recognizing other hitmen at least. Hannah didn’t know that many men in Salvatore’s employ. Any random guy on the street could work for him and she wouldn’t be able to tell. For instance, she’d never seen or even heard of Evan before.

Salvatore had tried to hide things from her when they were together. She never really knew the extent of everything that was going on in his organization. Whenever she asked about his business, he’d get angry. Sometimes he’d just yell, but other times… Hannah shook her head, trying to dislodge the bad memories from her mind and focus on the matter at hand.

Evan had to be a good hitman, she realized. Alex was worth too much to Salvatore. He wouldn’t fuck around and send an unqualified guy after Hannah and his son. Hannah wasn’t sure what to think about that. On one hand, that meant that Evan might be able to hurt her later on if she let her guard down. But on the other hand, he could actually help her if some of Salvatore’s other men found them. Hell, maybe he’d even be valuable to Salvatore. It could buy her some time if Salvatore didn’t want to send other goons after them right away.

Okay, Hannah decided. I can always dump him later on if I need to, if he gets too suspicious for my taste. But for now, I’ll take him. Maybe I can use him as a human shield if things get dicey.

But deep inside, she knew that reason was bullshit. I’m just too much of a pussy to kill a guy, she thought as she shut the door of the new car and walked back over to the SUV. It’s ridiculous how weak I am. She opened up the door to the backseat first, taking out the bag that held her few belongings and grabbing the frying pan with her other hand. Then, she walked back around the car to pop the trunk, revealing a red-faced, panting Evan, who looked like he was in the middle of a panic attack. “You all right?” she found herself asking before cursing herself for showing any sign that she cared. I have to be tough. No bullshit allowed. He should be scared of me.

Still, Evan nodded in response, wiggling his body to the front of the trunk until Hannah grabbed his arms and pulled him out of the car and onto his feet. “Come on,” she told him. “Hop over to this car. Hurry up, already. We don’t want anyone to see us.”

“Can you untie me, please?” he asked as he hopped up into the trunk of the new SUV.

“Don’t push it,” Hannah replied, shutting the trunk and rushing around to the front of the car, quickly turning on the engine. She pulled out onto the road, hunting for the nearest entrance ramp back onto the highway.

“Why did you take me with you?” Evan asked from the back. Hannah was keenly aware that there wasn’t a cage in the back this time to keep him from sliding up and trying something. She kept checking the rearview mirror, trying to see if he’d moved at all, but so far he hadn’t budged.

“I don’t—I don’t want to leave an obvious trail,” Hannah said. “You’re a big fucking clue and I’m not letting them find you. Not yet.”

“So you’re going to dump me later?” Evan asked.

“Depends,” Hannah said without thinking. Dammit. I should’ve just said yes. I don’t want him getting too comfortable.

“On if I’m useful?” Evan suggested.

“Yep, and if you’re not annoying the shit out of me,” she said in a warning tone. Hannah sighed deeply before taking a ramp to return to the highway. They were dozens of miles away from the motel now, but she needed to keep going and get as much distance as possible. Still, her eyelids were starting to get heavier, and she could tell her reaction time was dulled. She needed some way to stay awake, stay alert for another few hours until she could find a safe place to stay.

“So why’d you run away?” Evan asked from the back.

Hannah scoffed. “Do you really think I’m going to tell you?” Where did this guy get off, thinking he deserved even a modicum of trust?

“Just trying to pass the time,” Evan replied. “Must have been hard, though, being married to that guy. He’s not fun to hang out with.”

“How would you know?” Hannah snapped. She knew she was stupid for ever being with Salvatore. She didn’t need some asshole hitman scolding her for her poor relationship choices. She should have run away years ago, really.

“He would take us out for drinks sometimes,” Evan explained. He sounded unbothered by her harsh tone. Maybe he was getting used to it by now.

“What, after a successful heist or murder or whatever?” Hannah asked. She felt weirdly curious. She was never allowed to know about stuff like this.

“Yeah, or just on a random day. He’s the type of guy that likes to have an entourage around him, you know. He likes to be surrounded by guys…and women.”

Hannah clenched her fingers tighter around the steering wheel, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her hands and feet. She knew Salvatore was a womanizer, but it still wasn’t fun to be reminded of it. Back in the day she thought he was just a flirt, one of those guys that enjoys talking to women without ever actually doing anything real. But it was more than that, obviously. Hannah felt so stupid for ever thinking otherwise. “Yeah, well, Salvatore is who he is,” Hannah finally said.

“Which is a piece of shit,” Evan said. “I didn’t know he had a girl, you know, until a few days ago.”

“Really?” Hannah asked. She looked in the rearview mirror to see Evan nod.

“Yeah, he always had chicks around him, all the time. Used us to wingman for him, you know, get girls to talk to him and…go back to his room.”

“What’s your fucking point?” Hannah finally snapped. Did Evan get off on making her feel embarrassed and hurt?

“Just wondering if you knew,” Evan said.

“Yeah, I knew,” Hannah admitted, feeling the burn of shame crawl up her back and neck.

“And…so, were you okay with it, or what?” he asked.

Hannah scoffed and laughed a little, shaking her head. “Uh, no, not so much. Just couldn’t get him to stop. After a few years, you figure, eh, what’s the point in trying?”

“Is that…is that why you ran away?” Evan suggested.

She shook her head again, biting her lip. She really didn’t want to talk about this, but the words still sat in her mouth, begging to be released. She’d never talked to anyone about it, ever. Hannah had no friends she could trust with the information. Salvatore had made sure of that, isolating her any way he could. “No, no, that’s not why,” she finally said. There was a long pause where neither of them said anything. “It’s not like I was all right with it or anything. But given everything else that Salvatore did, everything else that he was, it honestly doesn’t feel like that big of a deal in comparison.”

“What do you mean? The crime shit?” Evan asked.

“No, no, I never really knew what he was up to with that. I worried, you know, but I never got confirmation of anything. Till today,” she explained. She didn’t know why she was being so forthcoming with Evan. The guy had tried to kill her after all. But goddamn, it was such a relief to talk about it to someone, anyone, that it didn’t really matter that she was saying it to a killer. He was a captive audience and she was going to take advantage of that.

“So, what, then? What made you run, knowing how dangerous it’d be?” Evan asked.

Hannah bit the inside of her lip. Should she say it? She’d never said it out loud before, to anyone, ever. She’d never had the opportunity. But somehow she was keenly aware that if she said it, there was no going back. She could no longer bury it deep inside of her. It would be real.

It’s already real, she told herself. You can run, but you can’t hide from it forever.

“He, um, he got…physical, you know,” she said, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady and casual, like she wasn’t saying anything that really mattered.

“What, like he hit you?” Evan asked from the back.

Hannah swallowed, trying to dislodge the huge lump in her throat. “Yeah.” It was so simple, putting it that way. He hit her. That’s what happened. But it was more than that. It was more than just the physical wounds, as much as they might have hurt. For years, she lived in terror, afraid to say or do anything wrong that might set him off. He made me into a shell of a person, Hannah thought to herself. He made me shrink up inside myself. He made me weak.

Evan was silent in the back. She wondered if he thought she was being dramatic. He was a killer, after all. Why should he care about some mobster knocking around his woman?

***

Evan

In all honesty, Evan didn’t know why he was so shocked. He made his living out of violence. His entire life was built around it. But…there was something about the mental image of Salvatore hitting Hannah that made his blood rush faster inside his veins. It was more than that, though. He felt sick to his stomach, like there was some giant insect inside of him fighting its way out. He felt…guilty. He actually felt like he was somehow responsible.

Why do I give a fuck? Evan asked himself. He’d never felt guilty about anything he himself had actually done on the job. He never thought back on his targets and felt sad or sick about his actions. He never even thought about them at all.

Rule number four of killing: let it go. Never look back.

But right now, maybe because he was stuck in the back of this car, with nothing else to distract him, he couldn’t shake the image of Hannah, shrunken in and terrified, cowering below Salvatore. Evan’s heart pounded in his ears, his blood rushing so hard under his skin it hurt. “So, um, how long did that go on?” he asked.

Hannah was quiet a moment, and Evan worried that he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have, pushed too far into something that wasn’t his business at all. But then she cleared her throat and spoke again. “A long time. It’s…it’s hard to remember exactly when it started. But… for most of our relationship, yeah, he was hitting me.”

Evan clenched his fists out of habit, his nails digging into the exposed skin around the duct tape. There were times when Salvatore would come into the bar where his lieutenants and hitmen gathered with open sores on his knuckles. Evan would notice them but not say anything. He just figured Salvatore had gotten into a bar fight to let off some steam. But maybe the whole time…the whole time he was pounding on Hannah. Again, a hot flash of guilt hit Evan right in the stomach. He felt like he might throw up.

“The worst thing,” Hannah said in the front seat, but then she fell silent again. Evan didn’t know whether or not to verbally nudge her to finish the thought, but then she sighed deeply, heavily, like an old dog does. She’s seen a lot, Evan realized. More than I could imagine. He thought back to how surprised he was when she overcame him earlier with the frying pan. When did she learn to be that strong, that ruthless? Was it Salvatore? Evan wondered what Hannah had been like before her time with Salvatore—if she was ever a softer person, a simpler person. And again, he felt his stomach contract with the sick sensation of guilt.

“The worst thing,” Hannah began again a minute later, “wasn’t that, though.”

Evan was silent a moment, wondering if she was going to explain herself further. Eventually he decided to push a little. “What was the worst thing?”

“He, um, you know, he hit me a lot. Scared me. You know how he is,” Hannah said. “I got used to it. I thought, this isn’t the life I want but it’s the one I’ve got. You know? I could put up with it. But I…” She cleared her throat again, but when she spoke again it was clear she was fighting off tears. “I made a promise that nothing would ever happen to Alex. He’d never have to grow up scared. So…you know, I really had no choice, did I? I had to run.”

For a long moment, Evan didn’t understand. His mind couldn’t grasp the truth, maybe because it was too terrible to accept. No, no, it can’t be. He’s just a baby. Salvatore couldn’t have… “He…the baby?” Evan stuttered out.

“Yeah,” Hannah replied. “He hit him.”

“H-how?” Evan didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to keep his voice steady and confident. It was just impossible to wrap his mind around the truth.

Hannah huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, I know, it seems ridiculous, right? Hitting a baby. But he did it. Alex was crying, you know, the way babies do. They cry, sometimes for no reason. Anyways, one night about a week and a half ago I couldn’t get him to calm down. Salvatore was furious. I think he had some shady deal to make in the morning or something. Anyway, he wanted his precious beauty sleep and Alex was getting in the way. He…he snatched Alex right out of my arms, took him over to the changing table...” Hannah trailed off. A second later Evan heard her sniffle a little. When she spoke again, it was through a clogged throat, like she was choking back sobs. “He, uh, he pinned Alex down and smacked him across the face.”

Evan exhaled deeply. So there it was. That’s why she was so desperate to get away. That’s why she was willing to risk anything, do anything—to protect her son. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said in agreement. “Wow, right? I…I put up with his shit for years, but I never thought he was capable of that. I guess…I guess I thought maybe there’s a tiny piece of good in him, you know? Something to salvage. Something to hold onto. But there’s nothing. He’s just…a black hole of a person. He sucks in everything in sight and he doesn’t care whether or not he spits you out again.”

Evan was at a loss for words. But no matter how shocked he was, he couldn’t shake the mental image. That sweet little baby, being hit by a grown man with considerable strength. “Is…is the baby okay?”

“I think so,” Hannah whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the car’s engine. “He seems fine, at least. If I had my way I’d have taken him to a doctor right away, but Salvatore would never allow it. I’ll have him checked out as soon as I can.”

“When will that be?” Evan thought out loud.

“I don’t know,” Hannah replied. “I really don’t know. I’m just…I’m fighting here, Evan.” He almost flinched at the sound of his name, but it sounded…nice, coming from her mouth. He hadn’t heard a woman say his real name in years. It made him feel a little warm inside, despite the circumstances. “I’m fighting really hard for my family. Can you understand that?”

“I don’t know,” Evan responded honestly. He didn’t know if he could understand that. The only family he’d ever had fell apart when he was six years old, when his piece-of-shit father finally walked out once and for all. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, to think about what Hannah went through, Evan realized.

Salvatore sounded too much like his dad, pushing people around, controlling people, cheating on them. Evan swore, even as a little kid, that he’d never be in a position to let someone hurt him, ever again. He wondered if that’s how Hannah felt. Somehow that prospect made him feel cold inside, like all of his organs were transforming to ice. He didn’t want to see Hannah become what he was. He didn’t want her to become strong like him. He didn’t want her to be a killer.

But maybe I can do it so she doesn’t have to, Evan thought.

“Listen,” Evan began. “I know that you’ve got no fucking reason at all to trust me. I’m just a piece of shit hitman you’ve never seen before. But...I’m not going to betray you. I swear, I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“Is she really dead?” Hannah asked, but her tone was humorous, almost teasing, like they were buddies on a road trip together instead of captor and hitman.

Evan laughed, the feeling of it almost painful, like his throat wasn’t used to the sensation anymore. It had been so long since he’d laughed at anything honestly, instead of mocking people before he hurt them. “Yeah, she’s really dead, really fucking dead. I swear, okay? I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Maybe nothing I say can convince you, and I gotta just learn to live with that. But I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like him.”

“How…how can I believe that?” Hannah whispered.

“Maybe you can’t believe it,” Evan said, just thinking out loud again. “I probably can’t convince you. All I can do is repeat myself. I’m not going to hurt you or your son. And I guess if you want to keep me tied up, I understand.”

Hannah was silent for a long time. All Evan could make out was the sound of the back wheels scraping against the gravel of the highway.

After several silent minutes, she finally spoke. “Do you believe me?”

“What do you mean?”

“About Salvatore, do you believe me?” Hannah asked.

Evan’s brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he believed her. Why wouldn’t he? “About him hitting you and the kid? Yeah, why not?”

He heard Hannah exhale shakily, so heavily that he could hear it clearly even from the trunk. “I always…I always thought that everybody would take his side, you know? Maybe everybody else would, I don’t know. But I just thought…nobody would believe me, or if they did, nobody would care.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she cleared her throat again, clearly fighting against her emotions.

Evan shifted a little, his left side going numb from lack of movement. “I care,” he said, his voice low and careful. It felt like he was walking a tightrope, suspended over an abyss, and if he made one wrong move he’d knock himself off forever. He needed to say this right. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt Alex. I promise. I just want to live. Just like you,” he said softly. He realized after the words left his mouth that they were true. He believed them. He wasn’t going to betray her. He did care what happened to her.

He felt sick, he felt guilty, he felt sad, he felt a thousand things he thought he’d shut off from his brain and his body forever. But more than anything, he felt angry. His stomach burned with it, acid bubbling up inside of him like a volcano. He wanted it gone. He wanted to exorcise all of this emotion the only way he knew how. He wanted to wrap his hands around Salvatore’s neck and squeeze and squeeze until there was no air left inside his miserable body. “I can help you,” he said. “I can…I can protect you both.”

“How?” Hannah asked, her voice strained and thin. She sounded a little incredulous, but there was something else hiding in her voice. It took Evan a second to realize what it was. Hope.

“Well,” Evan began, “for starters, I gotta have my hands free.”

Hannah laughed, loud and full-throated. Evan twisted in the trunk to stare at the back of her seat, watching her throw her head back on the headrest. “Yeah, you’re right about that,” she said. “That might help, huh?”

Evan found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. It almost hurt, using his facial muscles that way after letting them go unused for so long. But it felt good at the same time, warmth seeping down into his stomach, calming his nerves for the first time that day. He craned his neck to see out the backseat windows, watching the first purple streaks of dawn paint themselves across the early morning sky.

“If I let you out of your restraints…” Hannah began, pausing to clear her throat again. “If I do that and you try something, I’ll leave you without a second thought. You understand?”

Evan nodded before he remembered that she couldn’t see his face. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I’d do the same thing.”

Hannah laughed again. “I’m pretty sure you’d have killed me hours ago if you were in my position.”

In any other situation, on any other day, Evan might have laughed at that, but now he felt a slight burn of heat climb up his back and shoulders and neck. Shame. He felt ashamed. Why? He’d always done his job without a second thought. What the hell was happening to him?

“You’re right,” Evan said. “I would have. You’re better than me.” He thought he could see Hannah’s shoulders tense up in response to his words. “That’s why…that’s why you deserve to get out. You and your son, you need to get out of the country. And I’ll help you, I promise.”

Again, Hannah kept him on edge, taking a long pause before answering. Evan felt the car turn as she took an exit ramp off the highway. “If you try anything…”

“I won’t blame you for whacking me so hard with the frying pan my brain turns to mush,” Evan suggested, causing Hannah to cackle so loudly that Alex whined in complaint.

“I’m serious, though. You can’t say that I didn’t warn you,” she said.

Evan tried to sit up in the trunk, thumping his head painfully on the roof of the car. “Fuck, ow.”

“Sorry about that,” Hannah said, and her voice sounded legitimately apologetic.

“It’s okay,” Evan said, offering her a smile that he hoped she could make out in the rearview mirror.

A minute later, they rolled to a stop in an empty parking lot, just outside of an abandoned strip mall. Hannah parked and popped the trunk, quickly exiting the vehicle to walk around to Evan. Her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess, and her T-shirt stuck to her body, clearly slick with sweat despite the winter cold. She looked tired, worn-down, like the last several hours had drained the last little reserve of her energy.

It made sense, Evan realized, that she would be so worn-out. It wasn’t just the last day, really. It was the last several years, all bearing down on her like the heaviest storm cloud Evan could imagine.

Hannah reached into her bag, ruffling through various items before pulling out a pair of scissors. “Hold out your hands and feet for me,” Hannah said, blinking rapidly. She was probably fighting to keep her eyes open.

Evan did as instructed, pulling his hands as far apart as possible to give her room to cut the tape. Hannah made quick work of the wrist restraints before going down to free his feet. Evan’s brain calculated how he could hurt her, just out of habit. His brain just operated that way after so many years. He had ample time to kick her in the face, or reach forward with his unbound hands and slam her into the car. But he didn’t. He just slinked back into the trunk, folding his hands and feet nicely rather than putting them to use. He didn’t even want to, he realized. Instead, he flexed his fingers and toes, trying to will sensation back into his extremities. He’d only been tied up for a matter of hours, but it felt like several days.

“Thank you,” he said softly, looking up into Hannah’s eyes. The dawn light hit her eyes just right, so that he could see every color within.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured back to him, beginning to pick at her fingernails. “I’m sorry, you know, it’s not like I enjoyed it or anything.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Evan rushed to say. “I deserved it.”

“Yeah, I guess you did,” she said, a small smile spreading across her face. It was peaceful, seeing her face relax like that. It was almost like Evan had already won, like he’d already escaped the life he hated and made it to the outside. Maybe I have, Evan thought to himself as he and Hannah stared at each other. Maybe this is what retirement feels like.

“You can, um, you can go up to the backseat,” Hannah said. “Just…behave yourself, okay?”

Evan nodded and began to shuffle over the back of the seats to settle in next to Alex. “Thank you, thank you.”

Hannah slammed the trunk shut after him and went back around the car to the front seat, shifting the car into gear to pull out of the parking lot and get back onto the road. “Hopefully nobody saw us.”

“Nobody did, I’ve been keeping watch around us,” Evan said, checking both windows for cars or figures trailing them.

He heard Hannah sigh deeply and then saw her run her hands through her hair. “Okay. Okay, that’s good. That’s good. Now I just gotta…” Hannah trailed off, her breathing going steady. It was nice, seeing her calm down a little.

Alex started fidgeting in his car seat next to him. Evan leaned over to look at him, searching for any resemblance to Salvatore. He couldn’t see any, thankfully. The baby opened his eyes and stared up at him, a curious look on his face. A moment later, his tiny hand reached up and brushed against Evan’s face, lightly touching his chin.

Evan flinched backward, settling into his seat. He cleared his throat, pretending that nothing had happened even though his heart was pounding. He didn’t know why he felt guilty. He hadn’t hurt the kid at all. But he still felt scared, like he’d gotten caught doing something wrong. I shouldn’t let him touch me. He’s innocent. Pure, Evan thought. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and wiped his face with his hand, trying to get the leftover sensation of the child’s gentle touch off his skin.

“You all right back there?” Hannah checked in a minute later.

The sun was burning a hot circle in the sky, bright and pure.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Evan said, and he realized after the words left his mouth that they were true. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he was okay.

So ends the worst night of my life, Evan thought, but somehow that didn’t feel exactly right.

This was the start of something new.

Chapter Three

Hannah

The fucking sun was shining right in her goddamned eyes. Hannah couldn’t distract herself from it. She wished she’d brought some sunglasses, but she’d been in a rush to leave Salvatore’s the other day and she hadn’t thought of everything. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she berated herself.

In the backseat, Alex started whining, softly at first. But he was about to start crying for real, and she’d have to pull over to feed him soon and change his diaper. She’d gotten lucky before with the empty parking lot. She realized belatedly that she should have taken the opportunity to take care of Alex when she was parked in the empty lot. Shit, I am just fucking up today, huh? Hannah said to herself silently. Alex deserved better. He deserved a real mom, not a stupid fuck-up who couldn’t even remember sunglasses.

Hannah was also sweating like a pig. God, she felt disgusting. She pulled her hair back from her face, using a hair tie from around her wrist to pile it all into a high bun on the top of her head, trying to get cool air on the back of her neck. She hadn’t changed her clothes in over a day, and she was probably starting to smell. Hannah wondered if Evan could smell her from the backseat. Why do I care? Hannah demanded of herself. I shouldn’t give a fuck if he’s comfortable or not.

He hadn’t tried to kill her again, she figured, but what did that really count for? That was the bare minimum requirement for being a decent human. He still wasn’t a good guy, and she shouldn’t let her guard down around him.

In any case, she still needed to shower. And sleep. Dear God, how she needed to sleep. She felt like there were huge weights on top of her eyelids, pushing them down further and further with each passing second. But where the hell could they go? She had enough cash for another motel room, but she didn’t really know this new area. Where could she check in at 7 o’clock in the morning without raising any suspicion?

“What’s the plan?” Evan asked from the backseat.

For some reason that irritated Hannah. Not as bad as he had before, but she felt like she was being nagged. Still, she held herself back from snapping at him. If they were going to be traveling together for a while, hiding from the same people, they could at least be polite. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You got to stop sometime,” Evan said.

“I know,” Hannah replied, and this time a bit of her irritation seeped into her voice despite her attempts to keep it at bay. “But I have to be smart about it. We can’t just stop at any place. You guys found me quickly enough last time.”

Evan was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “There are cabins in the woods near here, you know. Maybe twenty, thirty miles off.”

Hannah didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t even know there were woods nearby. “You suggesting we break into one? It’s bad enough I keep stealing cars,” Hannah said. “I really don’t want to arouse any police attention, you know.”

“What if you don’t have to break in?” Evan said.

Hannah sighed deeply. “What are you talking about?”

“I know a place. We can go there without breaking in.”

She furrowed her brow, taking in his words. “What, do you have a key or something?” She saw Evan nod in the rearview mirror. “Is it…is it your place?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I bought it a long time ago. I haven’t used it in a while, but I still know where it is. We can go there now to hide out. It’s stocked up with food and water.”

Hannah bit her lip, considering. For some reason, the prospect made her a little nervous. Despite the fact that this car was stolen, she felt like it was hers in a way. She was driving. She was in control. Could she really trust Evan to take the reins for a while? What if this was just a long con, intended to drive her right into a trap?

“I can tell you how to get there and you can check it out, decide if you want to stay there,” Evan suggested.

Her teeth dug so hard into her lip that she could taste blood. Then, a plan dawned on her, turning her whole body cold and numb. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but it felt like the only way. “If I see any of your men around, if they surround us…I’ll crash the car, as bad as I can, before I let Salvatore get his hands on Alex. I mean it, Evan.”

He was silent a moment, and for a second Hannah wondered if he thought she was a terrible mother, a terrible person. In truth, she knew she couldn’t do that. She could never hurt Alex, even indirectly. But she would fight as hard as she could to keep him out of Salvatore’s grasp. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than Salvatore touching Alex, hurting him, or worse, molding him into a mini version of himself, another evil mobster who hits women. Hannah would die before letting that happen.

“I understand,” Evan finally said. “But I’m telling you, it’s our best chance. We need to go to my cabin.”

“Okay,” Hannah whispered, blowing out her breath all at once. She needed to calm the fuck down and stop assuming that Evan was going to jump her at any second. At least, he hadn’t tried anything yet, and he’d had plenty of opportunities.

And besides, she didn’t have that many options. It was either waste time driving around aimlessly until she found an anonymous-looking motel with a limited number of people around, or take Evan’s advice and go to the cabin.

“All right, tell me. Tell me where it is,” she told Evan. She felt a flash of fear hit her as she made the decision, but it faded after a second. Do something crazy, she told herself. Trust him for a change. It’s not like you have any other choice.

***

Evan

“Okay, take a left up here,” Evan said, leaning forward to see out the front window. Alex was whining louder and louder beside him, lending a sense of urgency to their mission. Hannah did as she was told. Evan didn’t know if he had succeeded in making a good impression, or if she was just so tired she had no more fight left in her. Either way, she followed his instructions to the letter until they left the main roads and went deeper into the woods.

“What next?” Hannah asked, her voice closer to a sigh than anything else. God, she must be tired, Evan thought.

“Now we just go straight for a mile and then take a left, another left, then a right,” he said, recalling the path from the last time he’d made this journey.

“Is it…is it, like, hidden by trees or…?” Hannah trailed off.

Evan gave a half-shrug. “Sort of? There’s tons of leaves on the ground by this time of year, you know, so you hear whenever anybody’s coming.”

“Do people come by a lot?” Hannah asked, a note of panic in her voice. She probably thought she was doing a good job hiding it, but Evan knew when people were scared. Hell, it was half of his job.

“No,” he rushed to say. “No, I just know from years of experience.” He wanted to say to her, You’re safe. You’re safe here. You’ll be okay. But he knew there was no basis for her to trust him. Not yet.

They made the last turn onto the narrow dirt road, and the car rocked back and forth on the stony path, jostling Alex enough that he shook all the way awake, wailing like he’d been struck. “Shh, shh, no, baby, no!” Hannah begged in the front seat. “No, baby, please, we’re almost there.” But her pleas didn’t work, as the baby just started screaming louder. Jesus, how does she put up with this? Evan wondered. Even just a few minutes of it made his eardrums ache.

They finally rolled to a stop in front of his cabin, trees scratching the sides of the car as Hannah pulled in as deeply as possible. “I just want to make it hard for people to see we’re here, you know,” Hannah explained, even though Evan hadn’t asked. She finally switched off the engine and turned to the backseat, pulling Alex out of his car seat and into her arms. “Okay, baby, shh, it’s okay, Mommy’s here. It’s okay.” She started humming lightly, rocking Alex in her arms back and forth until his loud cries transformed back into fussy little whines. “Better than nothing,” she muttered under her breath.

Evan reached into his pocket and produced a set of keys, isolating the long, thin brown key that would unlock the cabin’s front door. “You ready to go in?” he asked, jingling the keys a little to get her attention.

Hannah bit her lip and murmured, “Yeah, yeah, just a minute. Give us a minute.”

He could detect the note of fear in her voice. “What’s up?” Evan asked.

“I just—” Hannah sighed deeply as Alex’s tiny hands flew up to her face, pulling at her mouth. “No, baby, let Mommy talk, it’s okay,” she said to her child.

“Go on,” Evan prompted her after Alex calmed down a little more.

“It’s just…how do I know you don’t have, like, a trap set up in there? There could be thirteen guys with guns out ready to pounce on us the second we walk through the door.”

Evan nodded, more to himself than to Hannah. It stung a little, that she was still on edge around him, assuming that he was going to betray her or kill her or set her up. But it made sense. They’d still only known each other for a few hours, and for most of that time Evan had been tied up, for God’s sake. “Um, well, I don’t. I don’t have anything like that in there, so you can relax,” he replied, even though he knew it wasn’t that simple.

Hannah blew out her breath and bit her lip, not saying anything in response.

“Well, I can let you check it out for yourself and then decide if you want to bring the baby in,” Evan suggested, offering the key to the cabin.

She stared at him for a moment before readjusting so that she held Alex with one hand, reaching forward to take the key from Evan. “I don’t know whether I should bring Alex in with me or not,” she whispered to herself.

“Well, think of it this way,” Evan said. “If they’re inside that building, they know we’re out here already.”

“Gee, that’s reassuring,” Hannah said sarcastically.

“It is, if you think about it,” Evan replied. “If they’re in there, why haven’t they come out already and swarmed the car? They would’ve already done it.”

Hannah bit down on her lip nervously but nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna…I’m gonna head in first, all right? Just stay here.”

Evan was tempted to ask why, but before he could Hannah left the car with Alex in her arms and walked up to the front door of the cabin, disappearing inside. Evan leaned back in the car, exhaling heavily. He was suddenly conscious of the anxiety he was feeling about something, but he didn’t know exactly what. He knew there was nobody inside waiting for them. He’d never told anybody about the cabin. There was no way any of Salvatore’s men could find out about it, let alone in a matter of hours. So why did he feel this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach? And how long was she going to make him wait out in the car?

There it was. That’s what was bothering him, he realized.

What if she doesn’t let me in? Ever? Evan asked himself. It would make sense. They were in the middle of nowhere, and she was finally in a secure place with a strong lock that even Evan couldn’t pick. If he were in Hannah’s position, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start boarding up the windows and doors and try to wait out the winter in safety. Of course, Evan knew by now that there was no way he was going to kill her.

Rule number five of killing: never get close to your victims.

He’d fucked up, in a huge way, and there was no going back. But there was no way for Hannah to know that. Maybe, in her mind, he’d lured her to a private location so he could kill her without any witnesses. After all, if he had attacked her in the car, they would have driven off the side of the road. If he was still planning on killing her, this wouldn’t be a bad place to do it. Nobody would find her body, and he’d be able to snatch the kid and use the car she stole to take him back to Salvatore.

After another minute of just sitting and worrying silently, Evan decided to exit the vehicle and walk up to the front door. He knocked lightly, trying not to appear too aggressive. He didn’t want to scare her even more. “Hannah?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine!” she shouted from inside. “Just getting settled. Be there in a minute.”

But another ninety seconds passed and nothing happened. He didn’t even hear shuffling from inside. What was she doing? Just waiting on the other side of the door, trying to see if he was up to no good? Evan decided to knock again, a little firmer this time but still not very hard.

“Just—just a minute!” Hannah said on the other side of the door. She sounded nervous. No, more than nervous. Scared. She’s scared of me, Evan realized, and for the first time in his life that didn’t feel like an accomplishment. It felt like a failure.

“Listen, Hannah,” he began, “I know you’re in a bitch of a situation.”

He paused to let her acknowledge the statement, but she didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re scared. You probably should be scared of me. I’ve done some pretty fucked-up shit. But there are more important things right now.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Hannah asked. Her voice sounded louder and clearer. She must have stepped closer to the door.

“Like Alex,” Evan said. “Salvatore will never give up. He’ll never let go of his son. Salvatore never talked to me about you, but he did talk about his kid. He thought he was building a dynasty, you know.”

He could hear Hannah scoff on the other side of the door. “Yeah, right. Fucking pompous self-obsessed jackass.”

“Exactly. Exactly. So that’s why you gotta know that he’s never going to let go of this. He’ll hunt you with everything he has.”

She didn’t say anything in response. Evan guessed that he wasn’t telling her anything that she didn’t already know.

“You’re smart. You’re really smart. You were able to beat me when nobody has before. But you don’t have the sheer numbers that Sal has. He can throw everything at you, all the men, all the weapons, all the money in the world. You’re only one woman, Hannah. You need help.”

“And you’ll help me?” Hannah asked, but her voice wasn’t as mocking as it had been in the past.

“If you’ll let me,” Evan answered.

There was silence for a long minute before Evan heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Then, a second later, Hannah opened it, holding it to one side so Evan could step in.

“Thanks. Thank you,” Evan said as Hannah shut the door quickly and redid the locks and chains that kept the house secure.

For a second they just stared at each other. Evan wanted to know why she’d gotten scared again, but he was a little afraid that if he asked it’d piss her off. But then Alex, who was sitting on the floor in the center of the room, broke the silence with a weird-sounding burp.

“Sorry,” Hannah said with a shy smile. “I just fed him really quick when I got in the house.”

“I don’t mind,” Evan said, staring down at the little boy who was playing with the edge of his rug, until Hannah spoke again a second later.

“I’m sorry for making you talk your way into your own house,” Hannah said sheepishly, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Um, it’s okay,” he said. “But uh, why now? I thought, back in the car…” His sentence trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to say “you were beginning to trust me.”

“Well, I saw your guns,” Hannah explained, pointing to a far corner of the room, where four or five rifles were all stacked up next to each other.

“That’s not even the half of it,” Evan said with a laugh. “I got like twelve more in each room.” He saw Hannah pale in response, but he didn’t understand why. Is she scared of guns? Evan wondered. “Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head, but then she spoke again. “It’s just…well, I don’t like guns.”

“Why?”

She shrugged a little. “My dad…he used to hold them to my head as a kid, as a joke, you know,” she said. Her tone sounded casual and light, but Evan could tell that it was forced.

“Your dad did that to you? Were they loaded?” Evan asked.

Hannah nodded. “Yeah, always.”

“Jesus Christ,” Evan muttered. “And I thought my family was fucked-up.”

She laughed then, and this time it was genuine. A smile lingered on her face, lighting her eyes up like wildfire.

It was the first time in a while that they were facing each other directly, Evan realized. In the car, they’d spent hours talking, but they’d been physically separated the entire time. Now, he could get a good look at her, really take stock of her appearance rather than scoping her out as a target. She had curves in all the right places and legs that went on for miles. Her face was beautiful, but in the way an old building is beautiful, marked with time. Maybe it was just because he knew what she’d been through, but Evan felt like he could read the history of her battles on her face. For a moment, he burned with curiosity about her, about whether or not she knew how strong she was, but he knew better than to ask.

“Anyway, I just saw them and got scared, I don’t know. It’s stupid,” Hannah said, waving her hand like she was physically pushing the conversation away.

“It’s not stupid,” Evan said. “It’s…did it make you think, ‘oh, he’s like my dad,’ or something like that?”

Hannah bit her lip for a minute before nodding slowly. “I think so. I just thought…how could someone trustworthy have so many guns?” She shook her head at herself. “I’m sorry. Stupid.”

Evan wanted to argue with her again, tell her that it wasn’t anything to apologize for, but he let it go. Instead, he cleared his throat and gestured to his bedroom. “Let me show you where all the guns are. Just in case.”

“In case…?” Hannah asked with a furrowed brow.

“In case you need them,” Evan finished, pointing to the hiding places where he kept weapons in each room. “It’s not likely, but you want to be prepared. Have you ever shot a gun before?”

Hannah shook her head. “No. I mean, I’ve held guns before. But I’ve always been too nervous to pull the trigger. Pathetic, right?”

In the past, Evan might have actually thought so. Violence was so habitual for him that he couldn’t quite understand anyone who didn’t take to it as naturally as he did. But there was something almost…honorable about it in Hannah’s case. She’d clearly grown up around plenty of guns and at least one person who was willing to use them, but she was different. How did someone who had been through so much come out of everything so…pure?

Evan shook his head in response to her words. “You’re pretty tough. You knocked me out cold with that frying pan.”

Hannah smiled a little at that. She walked over to one of the guns against the wall and dragged a finger across the level of dust that collected on top of it. “Have these ever been used?” she asked.

“Maybe for practice,” Evan said. It was hard for him to remember what all he’d done in the past several years. Usually he didn’t use guns for his hits. All of his guns were unregistered, but the chance of ballistics tracing the crime back to him was still enough to make him use his hands instead.

“Will you teach me?” Hannah asked.

“What?” Evan asked, confused.

“To shoot. Will you teach me? I want to be able to hit a target.”

Before Evan could answer, Alex started wailing again in the other room, causing Hannah to groan and hit her own forehead hard enough that it made a slapping noise. “Jesus, fuck.”

They returned to the living room, and Hannah picked Alex up, rocking him a little bit in her arms. “What’s going on here, sweetie? I fed you, I changed you. What’s the big idea?”

“Have you eaten yet?” Evan asked her.

Hannah sighed heavily and shook her head, bouncing Alex a little in her arms as he continued to fuss. “I haven’t had the chance yet.”

“When’s the last time you ate something?”

She shrugged. “A couple hours before you attacked last night.”

“Jesus, you must be starving,” Evan said. “Let me fix you something. I’ve got food in the kitchen.”

Hannah shook her head. “No, that’s okay, I’ll do it. I just got to get him to sleep first.”

As if on cue, Alex cried out louder than Evan had ever heard a baby scream. Goddamn, what was wrong with him?

Hannah sighed again and shut her eyes, swaying back and forth until Alex quieted down to a more acceptable decibel of whining. “He’s mad at me,” Hannah said.

“What do you mean?” Evan asked.

“All the moving around. He wants his room, his crib. He doesn’t know where we are or what we’re doing and it’s pissing him off.”

Evan nodded. That made sense. The poor little guy had been through a lot, more than any child could possibly understand. But Hannah…at this rate she looked like she was going to pass out from lack of food and sleep.

She blew out her breath again and opened her eyes. “Could you show me where the food is? I can make myself a sandwich or something.”

Evan and Hannah walked into the kitchen, and he began opening up the cabinets, showing the different food options he’d stocked up a week ago.

“I have stuff in here for pesto, I think,” Evan said, looking in the refrigerator and cabinets for the appropriate ingredients. “I can make some noodles and we can eat that, if you want.”

“No, no, that’s okay, I can just have some crackers or something,” Hannah said as she rubbed the back of Alex’s head soothingly.

“Hannah. Please, just let me,” Evan said, and without waiting for her response, he immediately went about his work, getting out a blender and a pot from underneath the sink. “I want to.”

She was quiet a minute, just rubbing Alex’s back as he fussed quietly. “Okay,” she finally said in a low voice, almost like she was afraid to accept his offer too loudly. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Evan said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hannah lean back against one of the kitchen walls, her eyes screwed shut. She needs to rest, he thought. She deserves it. But she deserved a lot of things that she’d never had before, he figured. The world was unjust that way. It was only people like himself who got what they wanted, he realized, a hard lump forming in his throat. It was only the bad people.

***

Hannah

For a hitman, Evan was really handy in the kitchen. Hannah couldn’t help but feel impressed as she watched him work, quickly cutting up herbs to blend into pesto sauce. She had never really learned how to cook. Her mother had died when she was young, and her dad…well, let’s just say her dad wasn’t much for chores. She’d grown up on a steady diet of Pop-Tarts and candy. When Salvatore came along, she ate better than she ever had her whole life. Maybe that was part of the reason she loved him, at first, before the bad stuff started. He showed her a world that she’d never seen before. Or so she’d thought.

It was all the same. Same old world. Same old problems. Same old evil men who don’t care who they hurt, she thought, clutching Alex tighter in her arms before he could slide down her body. He was wriggling a little bit, like he wanted to be let down, but she knew that the second she put him on the floor he’d whine to be picked back up again.

She kept blinking to stay alert, but honestly at this point she had reached that level of tiredness that looped back around into full consciousness. She probably couldn’t sleep even if she had the opportunity to right now. Hannah’s entire body buzzed with some kind of energy, somewhere between fear and anxiety and curiosity about this new place, this new side of Evan that she was getting to see.

He was focused, totally absorbed in the task of cooking as he boiled the pasta. Hannah wondered if that’s how he always was, if he set his entire mind and body to every task that he ever did. He must kill this way, too, she thought, shivers running up her spine at the images that flooded her mind in response.

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. It wouldn’t do her any good to judge him right now. Sure, he was an unrepentant murderer, but he was also the only help she had right now. Where do I get off, thinking I’m better than him, anyway? All that good food I ate with Salvatore was paid for in crime money. I’m just as bad, really, Hannah thought. She found herself thinking back on those early days again, when Salvatore had picked her up out of nowhere and made her feel special. He’d even made her feel safe, for a little while. It was the first and only time she’d ever felt safe in her life. At the time, Hannah had thought that her days of pain and struggle and torment were over. She didn’t have to be afraid anymore. She didn’t have to worry that anyone was going to hold a gun to her head.

And then, things changed. Things always change.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard to trust that Evan wasn’t about to betray her. Salvatore had seemed like a good guy once, too. Maybe all men were like that, secretly biding their time to hurt you. Maybe it was impossible to separate the good guys from the bad guys because they were all the same, all waiting to pounce the second you let your guard down.

“Do you want garlic bread?” Evan asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

“Sure,” Hannah replied, her tone casual, like she didn’t care one way or another, when really the prospect of garlic bread made her mouth water and her knees weak. God, I need to eat. I need to eat so bad, she thought.

“Hey, he’s gone quiet,” Evan said, referring to Alex, who was now staring at him as he worked at stirring the noodles.

“It’s a false alarm,” Hannah said. “He’ll start screaming in a second. He just tired himself out, that’s all.”

“Did you have a nanny back…back with…” Evan trailed off, obviously not wanting to say Salvatore’s name.

Hannah shook her head. “No. I didn’t want one. Kind of regretting that now, ha.” She closed her eyes again and leaned her head against the hard wall, wishing it were a pillow. The cabin only had one bedroom, though, and she figured she was going to end up sleeping on the couch that night. That is, assuming Alex ever calmed the fuck down and let her get any sleep at all.

Right on schedule, Alex started crying again, but at least it wasn’t as loud as before. “Shh, baby, shh, please stop punishing me. I know you miss your bed, darling,” Hannah murmured to him, bringing him up to kiss the top of his head.

“I think he just does it to get attention,” Evan said, sticking a pan with garlic bread into the oven.

“Yeah, well, it’s working,” Hannah said with a laugh. They fell silent again, and Hannah just watched Evan work. She couldn’t help but admire the curve of his ass as he bent over to check on the bread before she realized what she was doing and snapped out of it. Objectifying your would-be murderer? Nice, she taunted herself.

She inwardly argued with herself: on the one hand, it was disgusting, having any kind of attraction to a hitman. But on the other hand, she’d been so well-behaved her entire relationship with Salvatore. Even when he was flaunting his mistresses right in front of her, just to hurt her, she never strayed, partly because she knew Salvatore would kill her if she ever so much as looked at another man. So, it was nice, staring at Evan’s body, even if she still half hated the person it belonged to. It was a tiny little rebellion, doing something that would make Salvatore absolutely incensed.

“All done,” Evan announced a minute later, getting plates out to fill with pasta and bread. “Sit down,” he directed her, pointing at the kitchen table.

Hannah complied as best as she could, holding Alex still in her lap when he tried to climb up onto the table. He was so full of life. It made Hannah smile to think about, but she wished she had even a fraction of his energy. Maybe I used to, when I was a little kid, she thought as Evan put a plate down in front of her and handed her a fork. But it’s all gone now.

Holding Alex as still as possible with one hand, she started eating with the other, twirling her noodles around with her fork to achieve maximum pesto coverage. She hadn’t eaten this in years. It tasted even better than she remembered. For a few minutes, they just ate in silence, but then Evan spoke up. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding?” Hannah asked, finding herself smiling. “It’s delicious. Where did you learn to cook, Italy or something?”

“Or something,” Evan replied, smiling back at her. Hannah felt a rush of heat climb up her spine, so she tore her eyes away from his face, staring down at Alex instead. She didn’t know why she felt so embarrassed. It was like she was in high school again, chatting up the bad boy that used to make fun of her. It made her feel a little sick to her stomach to think about. I’m not attracted to him, she argued to herself. I don’t like him at all. He’s a murderer. He’s a monster. He’s evil.

Evan finished his plate before her, not because she wasn’t starving, but because it was hard to eat quickly when she had Alex to handle. He was squirming in her lap, whining a little in his desperation to climb up on the table and play around with the noodles. “Alex, stop,” she said sternly, pulling his tiny hands back from the table. “Stop it.”

“He’s a little handful, isn’t he?” Evan said as he rinsed off his plate.

“Yeah, he’s a brat,” Hannah said, kissing the top of his head again. He was her whole world, but it got exhausting sometimes, dealing with him on her own. He was this little ball of light and energy and just life, and Hannah mostly felt like an empty shell instead of a person.

After another few minutes, Hannah finally finished her meal, getting up with Alex in her arms to put her plate in the sink. “Thank you,” she said to Evan. “It was amazing.”

He blushed—actually blushed, like a schoolboy—and looked down at the ground. “It was nothing.”

“Anyway,” Hannah said, “thank you. I really needed that.” She groaned and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, trying to ease the pain of her full bladder. “And now…I’ve got to pee. Jesus Christ. They don’t warn you before you become a mother about these things.”

“Can’t you put him down?” Evan asked.

“I would if he was asleep, but I’m afraid of what he’ll get into if I take my eyes off him. You know, all the guns,” she said, gesturing to the nearest weapon on the wall.

Evan cleared his throat but didn’t say anything right away. Hannah saw him flex his hands into fists, like he was pumping himself up for something, and for a second her heart froze with fear. “I could, you know, I could hold him,” he finally said in a low voice.

Hannah wasn’t certain that her ears had interpreted that right. Evan was offering to hold her son? “I, um. I,” she stuttered in response.

“Just as long as it takes you to pee and whatever else you need to do,” Evan rushed to say.

“Um, where’s the bathroom?” Hannah asked instead of answering him directly. Evan walked her back out into the living room and through the doorway to the right. Hannah bit her lip, considering her options. If she could find a way to unbutton her jeans and push them down with one hand, she might be able to hold onto Alex the whole time, but it would be a struggle. She didn’t want to drop him. God knows the poor boy had been through enough physical trauma, more than enough for someone his age.

But handing him off to Evan…The hitman’s whole motive to start with was to grab the baby and take him back to Salvatore. What if this whole time, he was just waiting for an opportunity to steal him without killing her? Salvatore might even prefer that, if she was stuck living without her son. In the time it took Hannah to pee, Evan could leave the cabin, get in the car, and peel off down the road, and Hannah would have no way of catching up to him. Unless…

“Give me a second,” she said to Evan, walking out of the cabin to go stare at the license plate of the SUV. She repeated the sequence of letters and numbers to herself over and over again, closing her eyes to conjure up a mental photograph. If Evan went off with Alex, she could call the cops and report a kidnapping. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best option she had given the circumstances.

“Okay,” she said as she reentered the cabin, holding Alex out in Evan’s direction. “You can hold him. Just for a minute.”

Fear visibly flashed over Evan’s face when he took Alex into his arms, holding him at an awkward angle. Hannah corrected him, making sure that Evan supported all of her child’s weight, before heading into the bathroom. All the while, she strained her ears, trying to hear if Evan was trying anything while she was away, but she couldn’t hear anything other than Alex’s normal whining. He probably missed his mother. Hannah smiled a little at that. She might have lost everything, over and over again, but she still had her baby. That meant that she had all the love in the world.

Washing her hands thoroughly, she stared at herself in the mirror. Goddamn, I look awful, she thought. Huge dark bags hung under her eyes, and worry lines were evident in her forehead. She’d never seen herself look so worn down, even after years of living with Salvatore. She needed sleep more than anything in the world.

When she exited the bathroom, she didn’t see Evan or Alex right away, and she felt like her entire stomach had been ripped out of her body. She ran across the room, bolting for the door to see if the car was still there, when she finally heard Evan whisper, “Hey.”

There he was, sitting on the couch, with Alex asleep on his shoulder.

Evan’s face was strained and a little red, like he was exercising heavily, but Hannah had never seen Alex look so peaceful, his little hand wrapped around the collar of Evan’s shirt.

“Wow,” Hannah whispered. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it was the only thought her brain was capable of forming at the moment. Just…wow. Alex had never taken to anyone that fast. He’d never even fallen asleep in Salvatore’s arms before.

Hannah slowly approached the couch, not wanting to wake her son. “Did he…he just fell asleep right away?” she asked.

“Took him a few seconds,” Evan said. He was still red. He must have felt embarrassed for some reason, although Hannah couldn’t understand why. It was like he’d been caught doing something bad.

She was hesitant to move Alex, afraid that the slightest disturbance would wake him up and send him right back into wailing, but Evan looked so uncomfortable, like Alex’s weight on him was ridiculously heavy. She slowly sat down next to Evan and lifted Alex off of him and onto her chest instead. “There we go, there we go, baby,” she whispered as Alex opened and closed his eyes again.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Evan.

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

Hannah shook her head, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. “You did something. You calmed him down, somehow. I don’t know what you did. But thank you.”

Evan was silent. He didn’t nod or shake his head or anything. Hannah couldn’t read his face, either. She decided to drop the issue, even though the image of Alex sleeping on Evan lingered in her mind. She couldn’t seem to shake it away.

A minute later, however, she felt that familiar weight sitting on her eyelids again, making it harder and harder for her to keep her eyes open.

“Can I…sleep here?” Hannah asked.

Evan nodded quickly and got to his feet. “You have to sleep sometime, right?” he said. “I’ll leave you alone.” He began to retreat from the room before Hannah stopped him with her arm.

“No, no, you don’t have to go anywhere. I’m a heavy sleeper. You can go about your business and I’ll be fine. I can sleep through anything. I always have.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Evan said, and Hannah couldn’t read his tone. Was it…admiration she heard in his voice? That couldn’t be right. What was there to admire about her?

“You’re a strange one, Evan,” she murmured, her eyes sliding shut.

She thought she heard Evan say something in response, but she couldn’t make it out before falling into the sweet abyss of sleep.

***

Evan

“You’re a special one, Hannah,” Evan murmured softly. Looking down at her, he once again imagined scenes from her relationship with Salvatore. He thought of her being hit, cowering in fear, living her life according to his whims. Evan felt a burning rage start to bubble up from the bottom of his stomach, and he knew what he was going to do.

One last job for the road. He had to kill Salvatore with his own two hands.

Chapter Four

Hannah

“I hate to ask this,” Hannah said as she pulled her hair down from the big bun on the top of her head. “But could you just…make sure he doesn’t touch any of the guns while I shower really quick?”

Evan looked up from the week-old newspaper. He liked to play the Sudoku and crossword puzzles. They helped organize his thoughts, and God knows he needed clarity if he was going to carry out his plan. He just nodded and smiled at Hannah, who quickly ran to the bathroom to shower. The baby was asleep in a pile of blankets on the floor, breathing loudly but evenly.

He heard the sound of the shower turning on, and his mind involuntarily conjured up an image of Hannah out of her clothes. Evan immediately berated himself inwardly for the mental transgression. She’s been through enough without you being sleazy and gross, he told himself. But still, it was hard not to think about it. Her tight, young body under the water, getting wet…

Okay, clearly he needed to focus on other things. He couldn’t exactly innocently explain away a boner if Hannah suddenly walked back into the room without warning. Evan got up and started walking around, careful not to make too much noise and wake the baby. But inside, his thoughts were running a marathon, going ninety miles per hour. He needed to make a decision. Do I tell Hannah about my plan, or do I just keep it to myself until it’s done?

He needed to stay with Hannah until she left the country with the baby, that much was obvious. Was there a way he could sneak off with an excuse while she and Alex stayed here? Maybe they could remain safe, without anybody knowing where they were, while Evan went back to Salvatore’s and killed him. Then they could all make for South America and…

And then part ways, he thought. The notion made him feel a sinking sensation deep in his stomach, but it was what was going to happen, right? That was probably what Hannah wanted, to be free of any and all reminders of her time with Salvatore. It was what she deserved.

In any case, Evan figured, he needed to kill Salvatore as soon as possible. It was the best thing to do to make sure Hannah and Alex were safe. As long as he’s alive, he’ll never stop hunting them, Evan thought. But inside he was aware that it wasn’t just a matter of expediency. He wanted to do it. That was a new feeling for him. In the past, whenever he carried out a hit, it was strictly business. Get in, get out, finish the job as best you can. He’d never enjoyed it, not really. But with Salvatore, he knew it would bring him a level of satisfaction that he’d never known, to wipe at least one piece of disgusting scum off the planet.

“Can you teach me to shoot today?” Hannah asked as she reentered the living room, squeezing her hair with a towel to get the moisture out.

Evan jumped a little, surprised that she’d finished her shower so quickly. “That was fast,” he commented.

“Mothers do everything faster than normal people,” Hannah said by way of explanation. She stepped closer to Evan before shaking her head like a dog, hitting him in the face with water. “Sorry,” she said, but the grin on her face told him that she wasn’t feeling particularly apologetic.

He smiled back at her, and he could feel his mood changing from serious to light-hearted again. Somehow, despite everything Hannah had been through, she had a way of doing that, making him feel lighter. “You want to practice shooting?” he asked.

Hannah nodded. “In case something happens, you know. It’d be useful if I knew what I was doing. If I tried to shoot anybody right now I’d probably just end up hurting myself.”

“We don’t want that,” Evan said without thinking. “Okay. Um. Maybe we’ll do it on the back patio. That way we can watch the baby while we’re practicing.”

Hannah nodded and picked Alex up, swaddling him more securely in the blankets that cushioned his small body. They crossed the length of the house, passing through the kitchen to get through the back door. Evan undid all of the locks and chains before grabbing the kitchen gun, a long, thin rifle with a layer of dust on it. He really needed to clean up around the cabin more often.

Evan gestured at one of the deck chairs, and Hannah put Alex down, making sure the chair was far enough away for the noise not to harm the baby, and that it was secure and wouldn’t rock or fall over. “Okay,” Hannah said. “What first?”

“First, you just watch me,” Evan said.

Hannah’s nose scrunched up in frustration. “I’ve seen people shoot before.”

He almost laughed at how eager she seemed to shoot, but he held himself back, not wanting to offend her. “Just watch me do it once, and then we’ll give you a shot.”

Hannah sighed and nodded, a serious look spreading over her face as Evan lifted the gun and pointed it at a tree near the house. Evan slowly placed his finger on the trigger, pausing in between each step so that Hannah could get a good look at what he was doing. Then, he fired, knocking a branch off the tree with a loud bang.

Evan was sure the noise was going to wake the baby, but he merely shifted in his blankets and smacked his lips. He wondered whether Alex was used to loud noises at this point in his life, and he felt waves of sadness crash over him at the thought. Over the next few minutes, Evan went over basic gun fundamentals with Hannah before handing her the weapon. Safety was first. He taught her how to pick out a target space that wasn’t likely to bounce the bullet back off and ricochet in her direction.

After a half hour or so of lecturing and demonstration, Hannah was beginning to get impatient. “Is it my turn yet?” she asked.

Evan smiled at that. He couldn’t help himself. “Yes, it’s your turn. You ready for it?”

“Oh, yeah. Born ready,” Hannah said. “Well, maybe not born ready. But, I’ve been ready for a really long time.”

“Okay, next rule of shooting,” Evan said as he handed the gun off to her carefully. “Don’t overthink things. Just act.”

Hannah blew out her breath and pointed the gun at the nearest tree. “That’s a bit difficult for me, man.”

“I know,” Evan said, as if he’d known her forever. “But you can do it. Just exhale and pull the trigger.”

Hannah did as instructed, but the bullet missed the tree entirely, whipping past it into the woods and hitting something else out of sight. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

Evan rushed to reassure her. “No, no, that’s okay. That was really good for a first try.”

Hannah shook her head at him but didn’t say anything in response, lifting her gun again to fire at the tree a second time. This time it hit, but it mostly skimmed the side of the trunk rather than hitting it in the middle. “Fuck!” she cursed, immediately squeezing the trigger again to try to do better. But this time, it missed the tree entirely again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Evan could see how tense she was, how much pressure she was putting on herself. She carried her tension in her shoulders, which bunched up around her head. It looked uncomfortable. Before he knew what he was doing, he walked up behind her and put his hands on her arms, rubbing lightly to get her to relax. Halfway through the first stroke, he knew he was crossing a boundary, but he’d already made the decision. Or, at least, his body had.

“What are you—” Hannah began to say, but she cut herself off.

“Hey, just…let go, okay?” Evan said softly, almost whispering. “You can do this. Just let go.”

His hands brushed down from her shoulder, to her arms, past her elbows, and finally stopped at her hands, lightly rubbing over the bones of her wrist. “You got this,” he said.

Hannah exhaled deeply and dropped her shoulders, immediately looking about ten times more relaxed and loose. She breathed in and out a few more times before pulling the trigger again. This was the best shot so far, but it still wasn’t perfect, hitting the tree higher than she’d intended. Evan moved her arm with his hand, positioning it at the best possible angle. “Try it now,” he instructed. Hannah did as she was told, squeezing the trigger, this time hitting the tree square in the middle.

She laughed lightly in obvious surprise.

“You did it,” Evan said, feeling himself grin widely in pride.

“Well, you helped me,” Hannah said, waving her hand as if that took away all of her credit. “It doesn’t really count.”

Evan stepped back, taking his hands off her shoulders. “Try it now,” he said confidently.

“Okaaaay, but I’m just going to fuck it up,” Hannah said in a sing-song tone of voice. She pulled the trigger again, hitting the tree at the exact right spot again. “Jesus….wow,” she breathed softly, clearly talking to herself.

“Yeah, wow,” Evan repeated. “You’re the fastest learner I’ve ever seen.”

“You teach lots of people how to shoot?” Hannah asked, a deep shade of pink spreading across her nose and cheeks in response to the compliment.

“I taught myself,” Evan replied. “I was a very slow learner. Really just shit at it for the longest time.”

Hannah laughed, putting the gun down. “It’s hard to imagine that.”

“What, me sucking?”

“Yeah, you just seem…so in control of things,” she said with a shrug. “Except for avoiding frying pans,” she added with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Evan said in response, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. God, she’s adorable, he thought to himself. Even when she’s mocking me. No, especially then.

Hannah picked the gun back up and shot a few more times, aiming at a different tree each time. It took some effort, but eventually she hit all of her targets square in the middle. Evan could see her relaxing right before his eyes. Maybe all she needed was to let off some steam.

“Time to move on to smaller targets,” Evan said. “Be right back.” He ran into the house and into his bedroom, searching for the little miniature stop signs he’d used for target practice years ago. He found them a minute later and ran back out, placing them in the ground a little further past the trees to make it more difficult.

“Oh, boy,” Hannah said, anxiety seeping back into her voice.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Evan said reassuringly, walking back over to her to put his hand on her shoulder. “You got this.”

Hannah blew out her breath to get some strands of hair out of her face and lifted the gun again, aiming it at the smaller targets this time. It took a few tries, but soon she was hitting them in the middle or at least close to it. Jesus, maybe she’s better than me, Evan thought. But somehow he wasn’t surprised. She was adaptable. She was strong. She’d probably make a better killer than him, too.

After another half-hour, Hannah put the gun down and walked back over to Alex who was awake and fussing now, picking him up so she could sit in the deck chair and hold him in her lap. “My arm was getting tired,” she explained.

“You’re a really good student,” Evan said softly. He meant it to sound a little teasing, but it was the truth after all.

“You’re a good teacher,” Hannah responded, tilting her face up to smile at him, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

For the first time since he was six years old, that image didn’t fill him with dread and anger. This was a Christmas tree he could learn to love.

***

Hannah

For the rest of the day, they passed the time shooting Evan’s guns and catching up on sleep. God knows Hannah needed it after being awake for so long. Even after two or three naps, she was still so tired that she would often forget what she was saying mid-sentence, trailing off instead into a series of “um”s and “nevermind”s.

But Hannah soon realized that her forgetfulness was a bigger problem than just an embarrassing verbal tic. Late that night, she reached into her bag to heat up some formula for Alex and realized that she was on the last bottle. How did I not manage to buy more before coming here? Hannah asked herself. She had planned everything out so meticulously, taking only what was necessary from Salvatore’s place before going on the run. But the baby’s food? How could she forget something so crucial?

She groaned low and slapped her own forehead out of frustration. This was bad. This was very bad. This meant she’d have to go to the nearest town to buy some, all while remaining low-profile enough to avoid attracting anyone’s attention. For all she knew, Salvatore had put out a crime bulletin to get the tristate area hunting for her. It wasn’t like there was a TV in Evan’s cabin to check.

She sat like that, her head cradled in her hands, for several minutes. After a while she felt Evan come up behind her, but for a minute he didn’t say anything, just watched her before finally placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Um, yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said back, getting to her feet and turning to face him directly. “It’s just…” She trailed off into a sigh.

Evan just stared silently at her, his eyes filled with worry. Hannah was a little surprised, seeing anxiety written clearly on his face like that, but she decided not to ask about it. “I just…I just fucked up, that’s all,” she said with another drawn-out sigh.

“How?” Evan asked softly.

“I didn’t pack enough formula for Alex, and now…I’m gonna run out soon if I don’t go get some. That’s all.”

Evan exhaled heavily, and Hannah could see relief coming off of him in waves. “That’s it? That’s okay. I can go get some.”

Hannah shook her head. “You don’t know what to get. I’m assuming you’ve never fed a baby before, right?”

Evan shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter. You can tell me what to get and I’ll get it. No big deal.”

Hannah immediately felt her muscles tense up in anxiety. Something about that proposition just didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t immediately put her finger on why. She just knew that she didn’t want Evan to go into town alone. He might…he might do something, she argued to herself. He might take the opportunity when I’m not watching him to call Salvatore and bring the other men here to overwhelm me.

“I can go by myself,” Hannah said, trying to keep her voice light and casual so her worries weren’t obvious. “It’ll just be an hour.” She immediately walked past Evan towards Alex, picking him up off the floor where he had been playing with his own shoe.

“You’re taking him with you?” Evan asked, his tone a little sharp and accusatory. “Isn’t that…dangerous?”

You’re dangerous, Hannah wanted to say back to him, but she held it in. “He’s safest with me,” she argued.

“Then stay here and I’ll go,” Evan said back, heading towards the door. Hannah had to physically step in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“Wait. No. Okay, cards on the table,” she said, exhaling heavily to steady herself for what she was about to say. “I don’t trust that you won’t betray me. Okay? I just don’t.”

Evan was quiet for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip.  “So you still think…you still think I want to hurt you?”

Hannah shrugged. She felt a pang of guilt hit her right in the chest at the sight of Evan’s face falling. Why should I feel guilty? Hannah tried to argue with herself. He’s the murderer. He’s the one who attacked me and started this whole thing. He’s probably known Salvatore longer than I have for God’s sake.

“I just…it’s a hard thing to get over. I don’t mean it in a bad way,” she said a second later.

“There’s a good way?” Evan said sarcastically, but then shook his head and offered a weak smile. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. Why should you trust me?”

Hannah just stared at him, watching his eyes move back and forth between her own eyes and her mouth, probably waiting for her to say something else. But she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Evan sighed heavily and gestured to Alex. “Look at it this way. One of us should stay here with him, where it’s safe,” he said. “They’ll be looking for you, not me. I should go.”

She looked down at Alex, wiggling in her arms. “I can’t let you go alone,” Hannah said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. Please understand.” She knew she was probably hurting Evan by telling the truth, but Alex’s safety had to come first. He was her entire world. She’d do anything for him. So, being a bitch to the guy that tried to hurt them both? Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Evan blew out his breath and nodded. “Okay, so then we both go,” he suggested. “All of us.”

“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t one of us hold down the fort?” Hannah asked, gesturing to the cabin around them.

“The cabin will be safe,” Evan replied. “I’ll lock up before we go out. Look, I just think…if you’re going out there where someone might recognize you, you’ll both be safer if I come with. I can help you in case you get into any trouble.”

“It’ll just be a little while,” Hannah argued, shifting closer towards the door. She was honestly considering bolting at this point, if only to prove a point to Evan. It was a bad habit she had, trying to prove people wrong whenever they suggested her competence was limited. She knew it was just her insecurity talking, but still, it was a difficult impulse to overcome.

“Please,” Evan said, stepping closer to close the gap between their bodies. “Please let’s all go. I promise I won’t try anything. You have my full permission to kill me if I do, or if I prove anything less than useful. Please.”

Hannah wasn’t sure what to say, but then Alex started pulling at her hair, and she had to refocus her attention on the baby instead. “Stop that, silly monkey,” she murmured down to him, rubbing the back of his head.

But Alex was filled with energy, squirming until his body turned to face the other direction, and he reached his little hand out…toward Evan.

Both Hannah and Evan were silent and still for a long moment, watching as the baby struggled to reach out and touch Evan’s chest with his tiny hand. He trusts him, Hannah realized. The baby trusts him.

“Okay,” she whispered, hitching Alex up higher in her arms. “Okay, you can come.”

Evan smiled then, and it was full and genuine, lighting up his whole face and making him look about ten years younger. Hannah couldn’t help but smile back.

They left the cabin, and Hannah went ahead to secure Alex in the car seat while Evan locked up, going around to the back of the house to make sure the back door was equally secure. When he reappeared, he walked to the driver’s side and got in.

Hannah, still in the backseat with Alex, immediately felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention, ready for a fight. “What are you doing?” she asked in a hard tone of voice.

“I’m driving,” Evan said, as if that required no explanation.

“Why…I….no!” Hannah said, stuttering in her frustration. “I’m driving.”

“I know this area pretty well. I can take us to a supermarket quicker than you can,” Evan said.

That’s true…Hannah realized. The longer they stayed out of the cabin, the more danger they were in. Maybe it would be better if Evan drove, that way they could get back as quickly as possible.

But he could take you on the highway and back to Salvatore and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You can’t jump out of a moving vehicle with a baby, she argued back.

Then, the solution hit her, all at once.

“I’m taking a gun,” Hannah said. “Give me the house keys, I’m getting a gun. And I’m going to hold onto it the entire time. Get my meaning?” The second you stray off the beaten path and take us into danger, I’m blowing your brains out, she silently vowed.

“Yeah, I get it,” Evan said, handing her the key to the cabin. Hannah quickly ran in and grabbed the first loaded gun she saw, as well as her bag full of supplies, just in case. She slammed the door back behind her as she bolted back to the car. She was a little scared that Evan could pull out of the woods and take off with Alex, but he stayed still the entire time. That was yet another opportunity Evan had to fuck her over, and he didn’t take it. Still, she held onto the gun as tightly as she could as she climbed back inside the vehicle.

“Okay,” she said, breathing hard after her short stint of running back and forth. “Let’s go. Closest supermarket you got.”

Evan nodded and switched the engine on, pulling out of the trees and back onto the rocky road. “I’m glad you…I’m glad you feel comfortable holding a gun,” he said after a short moment of silence.

“Well, I’m a fast learner. And I get over things quick,” Hannah said without thinking, turning to stare out of the window. Alex was fussing a little in his seat, but she couldn’t pick him up with a gun in her hand.

Evan was watching her in the rearview mirror, she realized after a minute on the road. There was a little smile on his face, his eyes shining in the reflection of the mirror. “What?” Hannah finally said after another minute of being watched.

“Nothing, nothing,” Evan replied. “It’s just…you really fucked me up with that frying pan. Imagine what you could do with a real weapon like the one you’re holding.”

Hannah smirked a little, feeling proud of herself. She was good at causing damage. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to be proud of, but it was a nice change of pace, considering all the damage she’d suffered herself.

“You’re nice to me,” Hannah murmured, just thinking out loud.

“Somebody’s gotta be nice to you,” Evan said in response.

“What does that mea—” Before Hannah could finish her sentence, their car was suddenly rammed from behind, another vehicle appearing out of nowhere on the dirt road.

“Shit!” Evan yelled.

“Keep driving,” Hannah said without thinking. Maybe it was just an accident, just bad luck. Maybe it was just a distracted driver who rear-ended them because he wasn’t paying attention. But they couldn’t afford to take the chance.

“Don’t worry, I am,” Evan said, hitting the accelerator so hard the engine revved as they sped down the road.

“Oh, no,” Hannah whispered as she saw the car give chase. There were at least three men inside, all dressed in black. Salvatore’s men, she realized.

The other car quickly caught up with them, driving up alongside them and lightly ramming their sides together, sending Hannah skittering across the backseat. “Shit!”

Alex wailed next to her, and she was just about to turn and cover him with her body to shield him from the momentum of the other car’s impact when she remembered the gun sitting between her legs. The gun!

“I’m gonna shoot,” Hannah said, turning in her seat to roll her window down.

“Be careful!” Evan shouted, wildly turning the steering wheel left, then right, trying to out maneuver the car next to them.

“Will do,” Hannah vowed before sticking the barrel of the gun out of the window and pulling the trigger, immediately shattering the glass of one of the other car’s windows.

She tried to aim for one of the men inside, but it was hard with the cars moving so quickly back and forth across the road. Next to her, Alex was crying loudly in his seat, but Hannah couldn’t worry about that right now. She had to protect him. She had to fight for him.

Evan sped up, and their car shot past the attackers’ vehicle. “I’m going to slam on the brakes, okay?” Evan said.

“What? Why?” Hannah demanded to know.

“Because they won’t be expecting it. You’ll have a second to aim for their heads and shoot.”

“Their heads?” Hannah asked, her heart pounding in her throat so loud she wasn’t sure if she could even speak over the force of its pumping. “I don’t know if I’m ready for—” For murder, she finished inwardly.

“You are, Hannah, you are, you can do it,” Evan said. “I know you can. On three, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Hannah said back, tightening her grip on the gun. I can do this. I can do this. I’m a tough motherfucking warrior woman and I can do this.

“One,” Evan said, the car speeding up a little more. It was probably going ninety or ninety-five down the narrow dirt road.

Hannah placed her finger on the trigger.

“Two.”

She pointed the gun upwards, the tip just outside her open window. I can do this. I can be strong, she said to herself, even as her hands started shaking like they were in a blender.

“Three!” Evan hit the brakes, hard. The car skidded to a stop as the other car slowed down but still shot ahead of them.

Hannah had a perfect view of their heads through the back window. At the last second, she made a decision. Yes. I can do this.

She aimed, exhaled deeply, and fired, shooting out one of their back tires before immediately re-focusing the gun and doing the same to the other one. “Go!” she shouted at Evan, who immediately complied.

They shot past the car full of Salvatore’s men and roared down the little road, taking as many turns as possible to throw the men off their trail before finally finding a main road.

“Jesus,” Evan muttered. Hannah wiped the sweat off her forehead and put the gun down on the floor, turning to take stock of Alex. He didn’t look hurt, at least, even if he was crying like he had been.

Hannah stared at the back of Evan’s head. If he hadn’t been driving…me and Alex would probably be dead, if not worse.

“Next time, steal a faster car,” Evan said from the front, and the entire situation was so ridiculous Hannah couldn’t help but laugh through her hoarse throat.

Evan joined her, and together they giggled hysterically, partly out of relief, partly out of plain exhaustion. And fear. Hannah had never felt so afraid in her entire life. Salvatore was still coming after her, and he knew where she was. He must have traced the location of the cabin somehow, maybe through Evan’s credit cards or bank statements.

Hannah leaned forward and pressed her head between her knees, trying to get the nausea in her stomach to dissipate.

“You didn’t shoot them,” Evan commented from the front seat.

Hannah had to suppress a groan. She was hoping they weren’t going to talk about it. “I just couldn’t…I couldn’t do it, okay? I’m weak. I’m a pussy,” she said, feeling just about as defeated as she ever had. Her stomach was calming down, but she stayed bent over, hiding her face from Evan.

“No, no, I…it was good. It was a good thing that you did.”

“Not shooting the fuckers that are hunting me and my son?” she said, feeling beads of sweat course down her neck and disappear under the collar of her shirt.

“Not taking life if you don’t have to,” Evan said, and for a second she thought he was mocking her, but when she leaned up to look at his face in the mirror, she could tell he was serious. “It’s easy to kill. It’s so fucking easy. Humans are so fragile.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, her brain taking a long minute to process his words.

“It’s so easy to fuck that up. You made the hard choice. That’s all…that’s all I wanted to say,” Evan said, clearing his throat as he finished speaking.

“Well, thank you,” Hannah murmured in response. “That’s…that’s nice to hear.” She wanted to say something bigger, something stronger. It was so much more than just “nice.” She wanted to thank him for making her feel brave, for turning a moment of weakness into a moment of strength. But she was too scared to focus. Salvatore’s coming. Old Salvatore’s coming. He’s coming and he’s going to kill us now. He’s going to kill us all.

***

Evan

“We’ll stop for formula later, okay?” Evan said, turning his head to check to make sure Hannah was still awake. She nodded back at him, chewing on her lower lip. Her entire face looked grey as a tombstone. It was like the last of her energy had been sapped away by the attack. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible and probably failing.

“Yeah,” Hannah murmured back, but he could tell by the distant, dead way her voice sounded that she hadn’t even really heard him. Evan couldn’t really blame her for finally losing it. The woman had been through so much over the past several days, not even taking into account the years of abuse and mistreatment from Salvatore. Everybody had their breaking point and Hannah seemed to have reached hers. That was okay, though, Evan thought, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He’d have to be strong enough for all of them.

“We’re just going to keep driving, keep going for a while, and then I know another place, a place that I don’t own, that they can’t trace back to me. Okay? It’s going to be all right.” This time Hannah said nothing, so Evan let silence fall in the car. He just hoped the car would hold together well enough to get them to the next hiding place. They’d been hit pretty hard and they hadn’t had a chance yet to stop and take stock of the damage.

How did they find me? Evan wondered. It must have been the cabin. The men had probably been on their way to storm the place and coincidentally ran into them on their way out. Did Salvatore know that he’d betrayed him? Or did he think that Evan had simply failed and run off to his cabin to lick his wounds? Or...had Salvatore planned on sending guys after him no matter what, just to get out of paying the bill?

Evil sonofabitch, Evan thought. This only strengthened his resolve to get rid of him somehow. Hannah might be too good, too pure to kill something, but Evan sure as hell wasn’t, especially when it came to Salvatore.

They drove farther and farther away from the cabin, into the bright twinkling lights of the nearby town. Christmas lights were strung up on every available surface, red and green and white and gold surrounding them on all sides.

“Where are we going?” Hannah finally asked several minutes later.

“Opposite side of the woods,” Evan replied.

Hannah made a little noise of distress, somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

“They won’t find us there, I promise,” Evan said. “There are old hunting cabins that people don’t use in the winter. We’ll pick one and break in. They won’t be able to find us out of all the cabins. It’d take them weeks or even months to search them all.”

“That won’t stop Salvatore,” Hannah said sadly. “He’ll never give up.”

She was right, but Evan didn’t want to say that just now. He figured he’d wait to tell her his plan until she’d calmed down a bit more.

“It was a good thing that you brought the gun,” he said, trying to get her to cheer up a little. But she just grunted in response, and he couldn’t tell if she agreed or not.

Honestly, she was scaring him a little. She was practically catatonic, giving one or two word answers and grunting or groaning instead of talking. He wondered if Salvatore had finally broken her. No, no, she’s stronger than that, his inner voice argued, and it sounded so confident, so secure in its knowledge of Hannah’s strength.

It surprised Evan to hear how powerfully he believed that Hannah was tough, that she was resilient, that she would bounce back from this just as she’d bounced back from all the other terrible shit in her life. It lit a fire in his belly, thinking about how tough she was. I wish I were that tough, he thought.

Even though he’d killed countless people, he felt almost amputated emotionally, like he was walking around with a huge internal wound that bled and bled and bled until there was nothing good or pure or strong left in Evan. But Hannah was different. Hannah had kept her identity. She’d stayed kind. Evan couldn’t say the same thing about himself.

Evan sighed deeply and drove faster, trying to escape the Christmas lights and return to the wilderness. They still made him feel a little sick to his stomach to see. They reminded him of the day he’d lost himself, the day he’d decided he’d rather be the one hurting someone than the person getting hurt. They day he lost his strength.

He stopped at a tiny grocery store on the outskirts of town. Somehow, through her haze, Hannah was able to find the formula Alex needed.

“You saved us,” Hannah murmured once they were back in the car. They drove back into the woods, albeit far away from his own cabin.

Evan shook his head. “No, Hannah. You saved us.”

She didn’t seem capable of arguing, but he could see her purse her lips and furrow her brow in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. You’re tougher than me,” Evan said softly. But Hannah didn’t say anything. He wished he could hold her tight and squeeze life back into her, or otherwise absorb her fear and her pain until everything was okay again.

Alex started crying again, pitifully sniffling and sobbing quietly rather than giving off the huge wails he emitted when he wanted attention. Hannah turned to him. Evan saw her kiss the top of his head and felt a burning pain in his heart. I have to protect them, he thought. I have to keep them safe.

They rolled to a stop in front of an anonymous-looking hunting cabin with all the lights switched off. Evan got out of the car and took his lock-pick from his pocket, immediately working on the front door with ease.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Hannah said behind him. She must have gotten out of the car right after he did. Evan looked over his shoulder to get a look at her holding Alex. She was bouncing him quickly in her arms and chewing on her entire bottom lip. It was clear that she was too anxious to stay still at the moment.

“Tool of the trade,” he answered her. The lock clicked and Evan pushed on the knob, slowly sticking his head in to look around for anybody waiting just inside the door. He’d learned his lesson from the last time he broke into a locked room, that was for sure. After a second, when he was sure the room was empty, he nodded at Hannah and gestured for her to follow him inside. Evan found a light switch and flicked it on.

“Shouldn’t we wait in the dark?” Hannah suggested as she closed the door behind them. “That way if someone comes back we have time to get out before they realize we’re here?”

Evan hadn’t really thought of that, but before answering her he ran a finger over the coffee table, removing a thick layer of dust. “They’d see our car first anyway. But we can if you want, if it’ll make you feel better,” he replied. “But I don’t think anyone’s been here for a really long time.”

Hannah nodded and adjusted Alex in her arms, walking around to look at the mantel above the fireplace. “They’re rich, whoever they are.”

“How can you tell?” Evan asked.

“They’ve got this urn up here,” Hannah said. “It looks like it’s got, like, jewels embedded in the side. Very fancy.”

“You’ve got a thief’s eye,” Evan said with a smile. “Got your eyes on the goods.”

Hannah gave a half shrug. “I used to think that way, anyway, as a kid.” Before Evan had an opportunity to ask what she meant, Hannah turned and walked up to him, holding Alex out towards Evan. “I’m gonna go get the gun and formula from the car. Can you…hold him for a second?”

Evan immediately felt a wave of anxiety crash over him. He didn’t know why he felt so weird holding the kid. It wasn’t like he had never held a baby before, but Alex was just so sweet, so accepting of his touch. It felt gross, touching a sweet innocent little kid with his murderous hands. But still, he nodded and took the baby into his arms as Hannah walked back out to the car. He stared down into Alex’s eyes, still a little wet from his earlier crying. “You’ve been through so much already,” Evan murmured out loud, even though he knew Alex couldn’t possibly understand him.

Alex’s tiny hand reached up and brushed against Evan’s chin, playfully batting him on one side of his face and then the other. Evan felt himself smiling again, the baby’s eyes twinkling as he laughed at him. Evan couldn’t help himself. He had to lean in and kiss the top of his head. He’d never done that to anyone before in his life. Evan was almost afraid that he was going to mess it up, but Alex just giggled and squirmed happily in his arms.

Hannah had walked back into the room, and now she was standing just inside the threshold of the door, staring at him holding Alex. Evan felt a flash of heat go over his face and neck and shoulders, flushing with embarrassment. He wanted to ask her how much she’d seen, like he was caught doing something terrible, but instead he just cleared his throat and walked back toward Hannah, offering Alex back.

But Hannah just shook her head. “No, no, you can hold him. It’s okay. It’ll give me a chance to get his bottle ready.”

Evan didn’t know what to do for a second, but he found himself tightening his arms around Alex, holding him closer. “Um, thank you,” he murmured to Hannah.

She just nodded and shut the door behind her, turning around to set all the locks in place. “Are you sure nobody’s going to walk in on us?”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, nobody’s going to come up hunting on Christmas. Everybody’s out shopping and doing all that bullshit.” Despite reassuring her, Evan could understand why she was so terrified. She’d just seen proof that Salvatore had sent even more men after her. It wasn’t realistic to expect her to calm down that easily, but he hoped he could help quell her nerves.

“Christmas. I almost forgot,” Hannah whispered. She was still holding the gun, and Evan saw her hand tighten its grip around the shaft, her knuckles going incredibly white, like she was holding on to a lifeline. He wondered if he could convince her to put it down. “It’s weird. Just a few days ago I was buying a Christmas tree for me and Alex.”

“You like Christmas?” Evan asked. He didn’t know why he felt surprised. Almost everybody did, except for him.

Hannah shrugged. “I used to. As a kid, my family and I—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “Never mind.”

“No, I want to know,” Evan said softly, trying not to sound too persistent or demanding. She’d been through enough without him dragging her kicking and screaming through a conversation she didn’t want to have. But maybe talking about something else would distract her from the matter at hand. “You liked Christmas as a kid?”

Hannah nodded slowly and walked back over to the fancy fireplace, squatting down on the floor to sit next to it. She set down the gun and started to rummage through her stuff, mixing Alex’s formula with some bottled water from her bag. “I mean, all kids do, right?”

Evan’s mouth moved to respond without his brain’s permission. “I didn’t.”

She handed Alex’s bottle to Evan, her mouth open in wordless question for a minute before she spoke again. “I assumed you loved Christmas,” Hannah said. “That’s why…the Christmas lights, right? I found them on you when you broke in.”

Evan shook his head. “No, no, I hate it.” He didn’t say anything else by way of explanation. He rearranged Alex in his grip to help him drink from his bottle. He felt tiny beads of sweat appear under his arms. He tried to tell himself that it was just because he was holding Alex too tightly and the contact was making him overheated, but he knew it was because of nervousness instead.

“Why?” Hannah asked, turning to sit facing him instead of the fireplace.

Evan blew out his breath and started pacing back and forth across the room. He knew he looked weird as hell, just walking around pointlessly while feeding a baby, but he needed to move if he was going to tell this story. He needed to trick himself into thinking that there was a chance he could run away from it entirely.

A part of him was screaming internally, yelling at him to stop, utterly terrified of what he was about to do. But another part of him couldn’t think of anything else but the look on Hannah’s face. For the first time in hours, she didn’t look scared. She wasn’t calm, exactly. But her eyes were laser focused on him, staring at him with an intensity he’d never seen in her before. She was burning with curiosity, that much was obvious. Maybe it was just a temporary distraction, but Evan was willing to jump on it if it meant making Hannah feel something other than fear.

“I, um, I was six years old. I guess I liked Christmas before then, but it’s hard to remember, you know. My family didn’t have a whole lot, so maybe it was just like any other day of the year.” Evan cleared his throat again, feeling his heart pound up around his Adam’s apple. If he was going to do this, he had to tell the truth, the whole truth. Otherwise, what was the point? “Actually, that’s not true. I remember…I remember being excited. I was looking forward to it. Not because of the presents or whatever, but because…my dad was going to be off work. And we’d get to spend time with him, my mom and me and my sisters. We’d get to…” He trailed off, uncertain of where the sentence was going to end up.

“Be a family?” Hannah suggested from her position on the floor.

The words hit Evan like daggers to the heart. Just that phrase: a family. For some reason, there was nothing that could hurt him more than that, even now that he was practically middle-aged. Why are you such a little baby? Evan berated himself. Why does this still hurt so much? Why do you still give a fuck? He didn’t say that out loud, though. At the very least he had a tiny bit of restraint left that kept his voice steady as he simply answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

He lifted Alex up over his shoulder, patting his back gently. “Anyway, my dad came home on Christmas Eve, you know, and everything was fun. It was nice, hanging around him. But he was…he was weird. He was quiet. I remember thinking, oh, he might be coming down with something, because I had had a cold the week before, but no. That wasn’t it. It was…um….” He trailed off again, but this time Hannah was silent. He could see in his peripheral vision that she was still staring at him, just waiting for him to finish the thought himself. “The next morning, Christmas morning, I woke up and there was a note on the kitchen table. And I thought, Santa! You know how kids are. Dumb. I ran over as fast as I could to read it, but… It was my dad, instead. He was leaving the family, he said. He wrote, ‘don’t try to look for me.’” Evan paused to swallow thickly. “And then there were no more Christmases.” Not for me, Evan added silently. 

“Jesus,” Hannah murmured.

Evan stared down at Alex, who was starting to nod off over his shoulder. “Yeah,” Evan replied.

“You win the shitty childhood award,” Hannah said a minute later, and Evan couldn’t help himself. He had to smile at that and tear his gaze away from Alex to look at her, a mischievous grin spreading across her face in slow motion.

“Well, what about you?” Evan asked, walking over to sit down next to Hannah by the fireplace. “Why’d you stop liking Christmas?”

Hannah shifted next to him, bending and unbending her legs over and over again, clearly trying to get comfortable. “It wasn’t…when I was a kid, it was fine, you know. We were poor as shit and we always stole stuff to get each other presents. My parents had way too many fucking kids. I was the only girl, and I think they kind of spoiled me, giving me lots of stolen stuff each year. But it was nice. I got to have good Christmases as a kid. It’s just…”

Evan wondered if he should say something to prod her to continue, but he decided to just wait, looking at her as her brow furrowed and her eyes closed in concentration. “It’s our anniversary. Christmas.”

It took a few seconds for realization to dawn on Evan. “You…you and Salvatore?”

“Yeah,” Hannah whispered, her voice hoarse and rough sounding, as if it had to punch its way out of her throat. “Me and good old Sal.”

“How many years?” Evan asked. He wondered if he’d known Salvatore longer than Hannah had.

“Seven,” she said. So, they’d each known him for roughly the same amount of time. How the hell did she survive seven full years with that asshole? Evan wondered.

They sat in silence for a while, the wind outside growing louder and louder with each passing minute. After a while, Hannah finally spoke again. “It’s the hardest thing, you know. Like, I grew up rough. My family wasn’t perfect, but at least my siblings and I loved each other. Salvatore…Salvatore never loved me. But I can’t look back on everything as a mistake, because it gave me Alex. You know?”

Evan didn’t know. But with Alex slumbering in his lap, snoring lightly, he could imagine what that felt like. He wished he could go back in time and kill Salvatore before he’d ever met Hannah, before he’d ever hurt her, but at the same time, Alex was this tiny beautiful miracle, this amazing thing that came out of the worst circumstances imaginable. It was hard to know how to feel about that.

“So, um, every Christmas,” Hannah started to say. “Every Christmas I think, that’s another year of my life gone, but this year at least…at least I have something to hold on to. That’s why I was making a tree. I thought, this could me and Alex’s thing. We could have Christmas together. We could be our own family,” she said softly.

Evan felt his stomach sink. That’s what the Christmas tree had meant to her, a beautiful warm memory for her and her son. And he had come in with his Christmas lights and tried to ruin it. He didn’t know if he had ever actually grasped what guilt was before this moment, but now he knew. Now it wrapped around his entire body, binding him together like a mummy. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audibly.

“It’s okay,” Hannah said, but it was clear from the forced way she said it that it wasn’t okay, not at all. “Anyway, it’s not Christmas yet. Not for another few days.”

“Do you want…do you want to make a tree here?”

Hannah shook her head. “It’s not safe, right? We should just stay here for as long as possible to throw off the trail. We can’t leave and get a tree.”

Evan wanted to argue with her, but he knew she was right. There was no way they could go out to a main road without possibly attracting the attention of another set of hitmen. “There’s another way, you know,” he said a minute later.

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked.

He bit down on his bottom lip, inwardly begging for the courage to say his plan out loud. He didn’t know how she would react, but he realized now that she deserved to know. “Cut the snake off at the head. Salvatore.”

Hannah was quiet a moment, and Evan was afraid that she didn’t understand, but then she whispered, “You mean…?”

“Give him exactly what he deserves,” Evan said. “It’s the only way.”

She shook her head and shifted away from him as if on reflex, creating space between their two bodies. “No.”

Evan felt his entire body flush. He didn’t know whether he felt ashamed or angry. “Why? Why not?” He wondered if she was protecting Salvatore, if some part of Hannah, however small, wanted to keep him safe out of love. His stomach burned at the idea.

“Because it’s a stupid plan, that’s why,” Hannah said. “Because you’ll get yourself killed.”

“Not if I do it smart,” Evan shot back. “I know how the organization works. I know the weak spots, and I know how I can sneak in without anyone noticing. I know who he’s got protecting him. I can handle it. I know I can.”

Hannah reached over and scooped Alex out of Evan’s arms, and Evan felt a pang of loss in his chest. She’s mad at me, he realized. “You’ll get yourself killed,” Hannah said again before shushing Alex as he whined and reached his arms out in Evan’s direction. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“And he doesn’t know what I’m capable of,” Evan said back, feeling himself get more and more frustrated with each passing second.

She sighed deeply and brushed a stray strand of hair back from her forehead. “So what’s the plan, then? You go back to Salvatore’s place, break in, sneak around until you get to Salvatore, kill him, sneak back out?”

“Something like that,” Evan admitted, even though her tone conveyed that she didn’t think it was a good plan.

Hannah shook her head several times and stared down at Alex in her lap. “Even if you can make that work, then what? You think Salvatore’s the only big man in the organization? You think he doesn’t have top lieutenants who are loyal to him? If you kill him, they will never stop hunting you.”

“And they’ll never find me,” Evan shot back.

“They found you, like, one day after you hid out in your cabin!” Hannah half shouted. “How are you going to hide from them forever?”

“How are you?” Evan asked, and he couldn’t keep the note of accusation out of his voice. “How are you going to keep yourself safe on the run from him forever? You’re right. They found us, they found us much easier than I would have guessed. Doesn’t that tell you something? Doesn’t that tell you that you will never be safe while they’re out there?” He paused to let her answer him, but she just stared back at him with her mouth firmly shut. “Please. Hannah, just trust me. Salvatore will never stop hunting you. He’ll never give up. He’ll never let go of Alex, or you. He’ll send everything he’s got after you until he knows you’re dead. It’s the only way.” His eyes fell down to his own two hands, and images flashed through his head, one after another after another after another, freeze-frame shots of all the people he’d killed with those hands over the years. “Please. I can do this. I can do this.”

“It won’t solve anything,” Hannah said softly. “It’ll just make you a murderer.”

“I’m already a murderer,” Evan replied.

He saw Hannah go pale, like she’d forgotten the way they’d met. “Yeah. I guess you are. And if you do this, that’s all you’ll ever be,” she said, getting to her feet and walking away. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

Evan just sat still, listening to her footsteps recede until she found a bedroom, slamming the door behind her. If he strained his ears, he could hear Alex crying, high and sharp. He sat like that for a long moment, balling his hands into fists and staring down at them. Instruments of death, Evan thought. That’s all they are. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She was right, wasn’t she? There was no going back now. But at least he could do what he could to keep her safe, even if he made her hate him in the process.

Chapter Five

Hannah

Hannah groaned under her breath and cradled her head in her hands, wishing the pounding within her brain would calm down already. She’d just gotten Alex to quiet down and go to sleep, and now she was trying to get there herself, but her body wouldn’t allow it.

Maybe it’s punishment for being such a bitch to Evan, she thought to herself. But she was right, wasn’t she? Killing Salvatore wouldn’t solve anything. It would just make things more complicated. But at the same time, he had a point. She knew Salvatore well enough to know that he was too fucking stubborn to just let go of her. Hannah smashed her face into the nearest pillow, muffling the frustrated noises that left her mouth when she thought of the fight she’d had with Evan.

Why does it bother me so much? Hannah wondered. I hate Salvatore. Salvatore hates me. Salvatore wants to steal my child and raise him to be a monster. Why can’t I just let him die? She had no love or warmth or compassion of any kind left for the man, not after he’d hit her child. So what was the big problem? What kind of mother was she, really, if she wasn’t willing to murder for her son?

Even after staring out in space for several long minutes, she couldn’t get the guilt and the anger and the confusion in her mind to calm down, but she began to get used to it enough that she started nodding off into sleep, intermittently jerking awake and looking around to make sure Alex was still safe. After a while, her eyes became too heavy to keep open, and she finally succumbed to the sweet relief of sleep.

***

Hannah woke with a start, immediately sitting up in bed as thunder crashed around her. Goddammit. She couldn’t tell if an hour had passed, or only a few minutes since she’d fallen asleep. Either way, there was no way she was getting back to sleep now. Ever since she was a little kid, she’d been terrified of storms.

“Great, just fucking great,” she muttered to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed to check on Alex. “Exactly what I needed.” At least Alex was still asleep, looking as peaceful as ever even as lightning lit up the window behind him.

Hannah needed to walk around, to move her body. If she stayed cooped up in the bedroom, she was going to lose her mind. That was the thing about storms. You’re stuck in the house, and there’s no way to get out. I’m stuck in this house no matter what, she reminded herself. But she needed to lie to herself, to trick her body into thinking she had control in this situation. Otherwise she’d just lose her mind entirely.

Alex seemed calm enough, so she walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open so she could hear in case he woke up and needed her. It only occurred to her just as she was walking back into the main room that she was going to have to face Evan again after their awkward argument. Oh, well. We’re stuck with each other, aren’t we? Hannah thought.

Evan was still sitting by the fireplace, but now it was lit up with life, fire roaring inside in the wood the cabin’s owners had left behind. “Hey,” Hannah said, getting him to turn around to face her. She honestly expected him to scowl at her, but Evan gave her a half-smile instead, so she figured it was safe to sit down next to him.

“What are you doing still up?” he asked as she settled down next to the fire.

Hannah reached her hands out closer to the flames, letting the heat lick her hands. “I…um…” She trailed off, uncertain if she should be honest with him about her vulnerability. Ah, fuck it. What do I have to lose? “I’m scared of storms.”

“Really?” Evan said, and he sounded legitimately surprised. Hannah felt herself blush a little in response, so she turned to face the fire more directly, hoping he couldn’t read how embarrassed she was on her face. “Aren’t you a little…”

“Old for that?” Hannah suggested. “Yeah, I am.”

“No, I wasn’t going to say that,” Evan said. “It’s just…you’re so tough, you know? It’s weird for me to think you’re scared of anything.”

Hannah laughed, feeling herself calm down more as the fire warmed her body. The crackling of the logs was almost loud enough to cover up the sound of the thunder outside. “I’m scared of a ton of shit. I thought our conversation earlier made that pretty clear.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Evan shake his head. “No, I didn’t think of it that way.”

Hannah reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. It calmed her down sometimes, feeling nails scratch against her scalp. If only she had someone else to do it for her, she thought wistfully. But those days were over.

“I don’t know,” she finally said in reply to Evan. “What’d you think then, that I’m some kind of murder-prude?” Hannah laughed a little at that, picturing herself as a nun ranting about the sins of the flesh.

She felt more than saw Evan shrug. Somehow by gradually shifting closer to the fire she’d closed the space between their bodies. They were almost touching, and she felt like she could feel waves of energy coming off of his skin. “It’s not like that,” Evan said. “You’re just…you’re just a good person. That’s all.”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m really not.”

“How can you say that?” Evan asked, sounding legitimately curious.

She sighed deeply and fell silent a moment, focusing on the sweet crackling noises of the fire and watching as the wood of the logs transformed into beautiful red sparks. She wished something like that could happen to her, that by walking through the fire she could become something warm, something burning strong. But it didn’t work that way. You walk through fire and you come out as ash, she thought. Salvatore burned away the best of me and I’m all that’s left now, just a shell.

“I stayed with him, you know. Much, much longer than I should have,” she finally said after her long pause. “I could have run away years ago, when he started beating on me. But I didn’t. There’s got to be a reason for that.”

“You were scared,” Evan said, as if that explained everything.

“I was a pussy,” Hannah said, her voice hard and brittle. “I could have done so much more, but I didn’t do it. Because it was easier not to. Because…because I didn’t want to go back to being poor. Because I thought, okay, if it takes getting beaten around to have food on the table all the time, to not have to steal to survive ever again, then I can put up with it. That’s honestly what I thought. Isn’t that fucking disgusting?”

“No,” Evan said. “It’s not disgusting. It’s normal. You grew up hungry, right?”

Hannah just nodded.

“All of us are fucked up because of our childhoods. I mean, look at me. Boo-hoo, my dad left me on Christmas. Get the fuck over it, right?”

“No, that’s not fair,” Hannah said softly.

“So then why is it fair to expect the same out of you?” Evan shot back.

“Because…because I just…I just fucked everything up more by staying,” Hannah said. “At least when I got pregnant, I should have run. Maybe then Salvatore would’ve just let me go, you know, especially if I ran before he found out. I could have just gone away and raised Alex by myself. But I didn’t. I stayed because I was scared. I was a weak little wimp and now Alex has to pay the price.”

“That’s not true—” Evan tried to argue, but Hannah cut in before he could continue.

“Isn’t it? Alex only got hit because I didn’t run away fast enough. Because I was afraid of Salvatore. And I’m still afraid of him. I’m still letting him tell me what to do, even now. That’s why I can’t let you kill him, because that weak motherfucker still has control over me. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Evan reached out and grabbed Hannah’s chin, making her turn her face to look him directly in the eyes. His face was serious, his mouth set in a hard line. “No. Hannah, no. That’s not true.”

Hannah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention, but she didn’t know why. Am I scared? I don’t feel scared, she thought to herself. What’s going on?

“You’re not weak. You’re not a pussy,” Evan said, his hand drifting down from her chin to the side of her neck, causing all of the goosebumps there to prickle up. “You did the smart thing, okay? It was smart. Salvatore would have gone after you no matter what. That’s just the type of man he is. He would have punished you for leaving him because he can’t stand the idea that he doesn’t control everything on the face of the planet. He can’t stand the truth.”

“What’s the truth?” Hannah whispered. She didn’t have enough breath in her lungs to speak any louder than that.

“The truth is he’s weak, and you’re strong. But you’re also smart. You’re so, so smart for waiting until you did. You took the opportunity when you had it, when you knew you had no other choice. You were brave, Hannah.” She tried to shake her head at him, but Evan wouldn’t let her, holding her still by the neck, gently. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re a hero. You saved your son. You saved him, Hannah.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t—” Hannah cut herself off, dropping her gaze down to the floor. She knew that if she kept speaking she would cry, and that was unacceptable.

“You did,” Evan argued back. “You took him out of hell. You’re so heroic, Hannah. You’re the best mother imaginable.”

She couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears pooled into her eyes, threatening to immediately spill out onto her face. Evan must have seen it, as his hand traveled back up to her face, waiting to catch the first tear that fell, and then the second, and then the third. “You’re so brave, baby,” he whispered hoarsely.

She realized now why her hairs were standing up, why she was sweating lightly, why her breathing had quickened. She wanted him. She wanted Evan. In every sense of the word.

The thunder crashed again, and Hannah jumped, her body involuntarily leaping an inch into the air. Evan wrapped his arms around her, keeping her in place. His face was so close; she could feel his breathing hit her face.

It had been so long since she was touched like this. Salvatore never touched her affectionately. She only felt the contact of a man when he was fucking her or hitting her. Even in the early days of their relationship, he’d never been gentle. He’d never been soft, like Evan was being now, stroking her hair.

“I’m scared,” Hannah whispered.

“I know,” Evan said back in a low voice, and Hannah wondered if he really knew what she meant. I’m scared of you. I’m scared of wanting you. I don’t know what this means, she thought silently.

“Come over to the couch with me,” Evan said, bringing them both off the floor, to their feet, and walking over to the couch where a blanket awaited them.

Evan lifted the blanket up so Hannah could sit down and then draped it over her before getting under it himself, their thighs and calves touching each other. He returned his hand to her face, using the other one to rub the back of her neck. “You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmured.

“Not anymore,” Hannah whispered, tears slipping down her face faster now. “Not now,” she said with a laugh, gesturing to her tear-splotched face.

“Especially now,” Evan said, leaning in to brush his lips against the newest tear on her cheek. He dragged his mouth over her skin, making every nerve ending on her face cry out in relief. This is what she wanted. This is what she needed. And for once, she realized, she was sick of denying herself.

Hannah crashed into him, her entire body melting with his just as her mouth latched onto his lips, sucking as hard as she could. She felt like she was inhaling his skin into her body, like she needed his flesh to survive. In the back of her mind, some little voice was asking: What am I doing? But she just couldn’t bring herself to care, not when Evan’s skin tasted so sweet. Hannah rubbed her hands all the way up and down his torso before going underneath his shirt, massaging his cold skin with her fingertips.

“Jesus,” Evan muttered against her mouth, tangling his hand into her hair.

“Too much?” Hannah asked, but she immediately dove back onto his mouth, licking and biting at his lips, before he could answer. He laughed into her mouth, rubbing her scalp gently, dragging his nails down to her neck.

Hannah squealed lightly as Evan’s tongue slipped into her mouth, massaging her tongue gently. He finally pulled back, panting furiously, and rubbed the side of her face with his hand, kneading deep circles into her skin. “Not too much,” he said between huge breaths. “Not enough.” He grinned at her and leaned in again, but this time he abandoned her mouth and licked his way down her neck, stopping at her collarbone to nick her skin with his teeth.

“God, god, oh, god,” Hannah exhaled heavily, arching up into his mouth. Evan’s other hand snaked around her body, finding the hem of her shirt. “Shit, shit, god,” Hannah panted, overwhelmed by the sensation of having her lower back touched for the first time in years.

“Is this okay?” Evan asked, pulling his mouth up off of her skin. Hannah whined at the loss of contact and forced her shoulders up to recapture his mouth with her skin. But Evan didn’t bite down or lick her again, staring at her expectantly for her answer.

“It’s okay. It’s really, really, really okay,” Hannah rushed to say. “Now, kiss me, please, please, kiss me.”

Evan immediately complied, smashing his face into hers, his lips sucking on hers, his tongue massaging her tongue. Goddammit, Hannah had never felt this uninhibited, this free, in her entire life. She tangled her legs around his, wrapping them around his waist. She grinded into his crotch, their clothed genitals rubbing together. “Mm,” Hannah murmured, biting onto Evan’s chin, sucking lightly.

Evan’s hand lowered to Hannah’s leg, dragging his nails over her thigh. Hannah cried out in response, arching up into his touch. She wanted more of his hand, more of his mouth, more of his body in general. She reached up and wrapped her arm around his neck, tugging him down so there was no more space between their bodies.

Hannah’s skin felt like it was on fire, like every last one of her nerve endings was screaming in pleasure. But at the same time, she felt scared. It had been so long since she’d done this. She couldn’t help but swallow heavily in between the long, sweet kisses of Evan’s lips. She hoped it would go unnoticed, but his face immediately changed, his brow furrowing and his eyes becoming sharp and focused as he stroked the side of her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Hannah rushed to say, leaning up to kiss his lips softly and pushing gently at the back of his head to encourage him to reciprocate. But Evan held himself back, staring down at her expectantly instead of leaning in to kiss her. Hannah sighed deeply and felt herself deflate against the couch cushion. “It’s just…I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Her heart started pounding in her ears, this time out of anxiety rather than excitement, and she shut her eyes again, afraid to see the expression on Evan’s face. For some reason, she was afraid that he was going to laugh at her, or that her nervousness was a turn-off that would make him get off of her and pretend the whole thing had never happened.

But instead, she felt his thumb start circling over her cheek, while his other hand soothingly rubbed up and down her leg. “You couldn’t disappoint me. There’s no way.”

Hannah shook her head, keeping her eyes shut. “I could surprise you. I’m good at that,” she said with a bitter laugh.

“You are, but you’re good at a lot of things. I’m willing to bet this is one of them,” Evan whispered, leaning in to skim his teeth and lips along the edge of her jaw, causing more and more goosebumps to stand up.

“It’s just been a long time…since anyone has touched me nicely,” Hannah said in a low, shaky voice. “It’s hard to know what to do with it. I don’t know how to…. perform.” Her face and neck flushed, probably staining a deep red, but as long as she kept her eyes shut she could pretend that she wasn’t blushing like a little schoolgirl.

“How about you don’t perform then?” Evan whispered. “How about you just let me take care of you?”

That made her open her eyes, and the sight of Evan’s beautiful, open, honest face made her shiver in his arms. “I can’t—I gotta, you know…” She trailed off embarrassingly, but at least she kept her eyes open this time.

“Why?” Evan asked her, his hand slipping down from the side of her face down to her neck and collarbone, rubbing little circles into the exposed skin of her shoulder around the edge of her shirt collar. “Why not just let me do my thing, show you what I’ve got?” He leaned in to whisper into her ear, his breath setting nerve endings alight with a sensation that was almost too much to take. “I bet we’ll both have a lot of fun.”

Hannah shivered again, this time from the top of her head down to the bottom of her feet, practically convulsing in Evan’s arms. “Jesus,” she muttered, bending her neck back to give him more space as he began kissing his way up and down the path from her earlobe to her collarbone. “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, baby,” Evan whispered just before licking a long hot strip down the center of her neck. “Yeah, just relax for me.”

Hannah did as instructed, as best as she could anyway, mentally ordering all of her muscles to unclench and sink into the couch, sink into Evan’s blistering touch. There was something about being called “baby” that made her entire brain tingle with heat. She almost couldn’t believe how safe it made her feel, being taken care of by someone so dangerous.

But she ordered herself not to question it. Don’t ruin this for yourself, she said internally. Just enjoy it. You might not get another chance if— But she stopped short before she finished that sentence and forced herself not to think of Salvatore. Not at a time like this. Not when she was enjoying herself for once. If she let him into her mind again, he’d win, and that was entirely fucking unsatisfactory.

Evan’s teeth came out to play at her neck, sucking lightly at first, just at the juncture of her collarbone. “Oh…uh…damn,” Hannah whispered, low enough that Evan might not have been able to hear it, but goddammit, she had to say something. It just felt so good, being touched gently, but with an edge of pain just waiting on the other side. She reached up and tangled her hand into Evan’s hair again, pushing him down harder onto her neck. “Bite me,” she grunted out, bending her neck back to give him more space.

Evan laughed lightly and did as he was told, digging his teeth into her skin more firmly before using his lips to suck on the sensitive spot and then applying his tongue to soothe her skin. “You like that?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice. Hannah felt sparks ride up her spine at the sound of his voice and thrusted against him without even thinking about it, shoving her hips up against his. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Evan said with a little laugh, dragging his nails up her leg, digging into the fabric of her jeans. “These need to come off.”

Hannah swallowed a little to clear her throat and steady herself. “Um, okay,” she said, but her voice was uncertain.

Evan stared down at her for a second without saying anything, his eyes intense and focused as they searched her face. “Are you not okay with that? They can stay on if you want.”

“They might get in the way,” Hannah said with a laugh, and Evan smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling warmly, and that made her feel a little more secure, a little safer to tell the truth. “Again, I just…it’s stupid,” she said, giggling a little nervously. “But, um, I’ve got mom thighs, you know what I mean.”

Evan’s eyes tore themselves away from her face and dropped down to stare at her legs, rubbing the side of her thighs. Hannah felt her skin prickle with anxiety, watching him take her in and judge her body. She waited with bated breath as he felt her up with his hand, kneading her skin and muscle with his fingers. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured a minute later, baring his teeth a little and growling under his breath as he squeezed her thigh more firmly.

“Really?” Hannah asked without meaning to. Words and sounds were leaving her mouth without her permission, but she couldn’t even blame herself. Evan was pulling them out of her so easily, his hands and mouth and eyes completely undoing her armor, taking her out of her shell.

“Yes, really,” Evan said in an incredulous tone of voice, like he couldn’t even believe that she was asking the question. “So fucking beautiful. I can’t wait to get you out of these clothes.”

Hannah’s chest started heaving furiously, huge panting breaths leaving her mouth as Evan traveled down her body, stopping at the hem of her pants. He pushed up her shirt an inch or two to expose her skin and then leaned in to kiss and lick and bite teasingly at the flesh just above her jeans. Evan sucked the skin below her belly button into his mouth, pulling so hard that he probably left a mark, while his fingers came up to scratch gently on her hipbones. Hannah exhaled in huge puffs of air. She was starting to feel like her ribcage was too small for her body, that she was using so much air that her lungs couldn’t contain it all. But she needed more. Hannah arched her hips up, wanting more of his mouth on her skin.

“Mm? You want it, baby?” Evan asked her, his teeth sliding sharply along the skin just outside of her jeans, making her cry out in surprise and pleasure.

“I do,” Hannah replied breathlessly, bringing one hand up to wipe the beads of sweat off her forehead. “I really, really fucking do, dammit,” she murmured, words spilling out of her involuntarily.

Evan pulled his mouth off of her skin, and Hannah whined highly to complain, but then he lowered his mouth back down, this time wrapping around the button on her jeans and pulling it up so that the fabric of her pants lifted off her hips. “Oh,” Hannah whispered, spreading her legs apart to give him more space.

One of Evan’s hands traveled down from her hips to the side of her legs, finally slipping under her thighs and then squeezing her covered ass. “Mmm,” Evan murmured before fastening his mouth around the zipper of her jeans and tugging it downward.

“You like my ass?” Hannah asked between long panting breaths. She wasn’t trying to tease him. It was an honest question.

“Love it,” Evan shot back, digging his fingers in harder to squeeze it more firmly. Then his mouth moved back up to her button, struggling to undo it for a long moment. Evan groaned lightly in frustration, and Hannah laughed a little and tried to reach down to undo the button herself, but Evan just kissed the top of her hand and nudged it away with his nose before returning to his work, tugging at the button until it finally popped free. Evan lifted his head back up to the hem of her jeans, wrapping his mouth around the fabric and pulling it down to expose her underwear and thighs. Hannah lifted her hips and legs up to help him tug the jeans down, leaving her in her panties and shirt.

“Gorgeous,” Evan muttered, his tongue sliding along the space between her naked, shivering thighs.

“Thank you,” Hannah murmured softly in response, spreading her thighs apart to welcome more of his tongue onto her skin.

He licked his way down to her knees, setting her nerve endings on fire as his teeth came out to play, roughly rubbing the edges of her kneecaps. Evan then moved down, biting his way along her calves, switching from one leg to another then back to the first again.

“Suck me,” Hannah demanded, her voice becoming firmer and more confident. Evan seemed to like it, chuckling lowly into her skin before he began doing as he was told, dragging her skin in between his teeth. It hurt a little, being squeezed that way, but Hannah wanted more of it. She wanted all of his mouth. She wanted him to consume her, bite into every inch of her body.

Evan kept sucking little circles into her skin, going down, down, down to her feet. He paused at her ankles, sucking the hard bone into his mouth and swirling his tongue around in thick wet circles. Hannah groaned and squirmed around on the couch. She’d never been touched this way before. Who knew that her feet were so sensitive and raw, that they begged to be touched?

Even the lightest little bite made her squeal under her breath and lift her hips up off the couch, but she wanted more, she wanted it harder and harder. Evan seemed to sense her desires, because he started sucking more of her skin into his mouth as he traveled his way down to her toes. He started with the pinky toe, wrapping his tongue around it and sucking gently, then harder and harder as Hannah moaned. Then he moved onto the next toe, and the next, and the next, before bending her foot upward to get at the skin of her sole.

“Unnh, please, please, baby,” Hannah whispered, shifting her hips around in wide circles as the hyper-sensitive nerves of her feet were stimulated so sweetly by his tongue. She could feel herself get wetter and wetter in between her legs, and she was still only half naked, dripping inside her underwear.

“Yeah?” Evan grunted in between tiny little sharp bites of her foot that had her squealing and squirming under him. “You fucking want it?”

“I do, I really want it, please, please, give it to me,” Hannah said in a rush, knocking her head back into the couch cushion, feeling herself flush a deep red as Evan began climbing back up her body.

“You’re such a good girl,” Evan whispered, taking her head into his hands and pressing their sweaty foreheads together. “You deserve everything. You know that? Everything.”

Hannah shivered again, lightly this time, and she clutched at Evan’s arms to steady herself, digging her nails into his bare upper arms. “Please. Please give it to me,” she said again, reaching up to lightly peck his lips.

“Yeah, baby, I’m gonna give it to you,” Evan promised, pressing her back down into the couch with his weight and slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. “I’m gonna give it to you.”

She rubbed the back of his neck and stuck her hand down the back of his shirt, trying to get at his bare skin. She’d never touched him like this before. The most she’d ever touched him before was when she was tying him up, and she hadn’t appreciated his form when that happened.

His back muscles were firm and defined. Hannah dug her nails into his skin, wanting to release all of the tension of his muscles. She wanted him to sink deep into her body, give up all of his energy, all of the pain he’d been carrying around for God knows how many years. Give it to me, she thought silently, and she knew now that she meant more than just fucking. She wanted him to relax, too. She wanted him to surrender to her. I can handle it, she thought. I can take whatever you are, whatever pain you’ve got, I can handle it.

Hannah clutched hard onto his back and pushed upward, switching their positions as fluidly as possible as she straddled his body, sitting on top of his waist. Evan panted heavily as he stared up at her, fiery desire apparent in his eyes as he surveyed her body from this new angle. Hannah ran her hands over his clothed chest and reached up to his hands, pressing them down into the fabric of the couch.

She just held him still for a minute, curious to see if he would obey her. To her surprise, he didn’t budge and just stared up at her patiently, gripping her hands back firmly but rubbing gentle circles into the back of her hands with his thumbs. Hannah grinned down at him and leaned down to kiss the top of his nose, moving over to his cheek, his jaw, his other cheek, his chin. She wanted to cover him with kisses. She wanted to mark him up as hers.

“I’m ahead of you,” Hannah said, pulling one hand away from his to gesture to her naked legs. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, yeah,” Evan said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You gotta fix that, huh?”

Hannah nodded. “Mm-hmm,” she murmured, leaning down again to kiss his forehead and the top of his hair. “I want to see you. Will you let me?”

Evan grinned wider and bit his lip seductively. “I might be amenable to that,” he said, pushing his hips up to thrust his pelvis into hers, brushing his jeans against the exposed skin on either side of her underwear.

Hannah groaned a little at the friction and leaned down to suck Evan’s lips into her mouth, massaging them with her tongue. She was learning things about herself. She liked being in control, just as much as she liked being taken care of. It was nice feeling Evan vibrate underneath her, all of his body perfectly ripe for the picking.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she murmured against his mouth, going down to lick and bite at his chin and then down to his neck, while her hands fumbled with the buttons on his jeans. She finally succeeded in undoing them a few seconds later, but that felt like an eternity at this rate, so she hurriedly yanked down his pants, traveling down his body to pull them off his feet and throwing them onto the floor next to hers.

Without thinking, she growled a little as she surveyed his thick, muscular legs, running her hands over them to feel the sweet little hairs that lined his thighs and calves. She’d never been with someone so manly before, someone with so many strong and powerful muscles. A little shiver ran up her spine as she wondered what they could do to her in bed. Hannah bent over and ran her tongue along the space between his thighs, stopping short at his boxers. She didn’t want to get him too excited too quickly, even if he did groan in impatience above her. “I’ll get there,” she promised softly. “Don’t worry.”

Evan reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair, rubbing her scalp gently. “You got it, baby. You do whatever you want, okay? Nothing’s off limits.”

Hannah nodded, even if she didn’t exactly believe it. She had to think that there was a way she could fuck this up, but even still, she was willing to follow her heart right now, somehow aware that whatever she did, Evan wasn’t going to make fun of her. She started by raking her nails down his legs, watching with joy as goosebumps stood up in response. Then she rubbed more firmly, using the tips of her fingers to really dig into his muscles. “So gorgeous,” she muttered, more to herself than to Evan as she slipped her hands over his knees and went down to his calves, leaning in with her mouth to lick lightly at his skin, just enough to get him squirming underneath her.

Evan’s grip in her hair grew firmer and firmer the more she went along, licking and biting her way up and down, up and down, up and down his legs. She paused at the thick meaty flesh of his upper thighs, sucking his skin as hard as she could between her teeth, biting down to leave a mark. When she pulled back, the light of the fire showed the results of her handiwork: a magenta circle right where her mouth had been, just below the juncture of his pelvis and his thigh.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

Hannah gestured for Evan to sit up, and she wasted no time getting him out of his shirt, throwing it on the floor. She didn’t want to rush at all, but she was just so damn hungry for him. She immediately latched her mouth onto his collarbone, sucking to leave a deep purple mark in her wake before traveling down to his nipples and gently taking them into her mouth, one at a time. Evan groaned out louder than before and clutched the back of her head firmly, pushing her deeper into his skin. Hannah loved it. She couldn’t stop smiling around his skin, enjoying how obvious it was that he wanted her so badly. It was addictive, tasting the sweat from his skin and hearing the little grunts and moans that left his mouth.

She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, their underwear rubbing together as Evan started to thrust lightly. Hannah kept her arms around his shoulders, pushing their bodies as close together as possible as she kept licking and biting all over his torso. But she wasn’t prepared for Evan to start returning the favor immediately, latching onto her neck with his mouth and sucking harder than before. Hannah squealed, probably too loudly right into Evan’s ear, and bounced lightly in his lap, grinding down onto his clothed dick.

She could tell that it was so hard already. Hannah wondered if he was leaking as much as she was. She was so wet it was probably staining her underwear, and Evan could likely feel it even through the two layers of cloth, but she couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed. Not now, not when Evan was licking and biting at her skin like it was the Holy Communion.

“Give it to me, give it to me, please, please, I need it, baby, please, please,” Hannah begged, sucking Evan’s ear right into her mouth just before he bit down on her chin and sucked lightly, teasing her with his tongue. “Please, Evan, please.”

Evan wrapped his arms around Hannah’s waist and started shoving her up and down, bouncing her on his clothed cock. Hannah’s clit had started pulsing inside her underwear, her heartbeat throbbing between her lower lips like a drumbeat. She followed the rhythm that Evan had set with his arms and hips, thrusting as hard as she could down onto him. “Oh, unnh, oh,” she moaned, sighing deeply as her head collapsed onto Evan’s shoulder. “Yeaaah, that’s good, that’s fucking good.”

“Yeah, baby, yeah, darling, just take it,” Evan murmured into her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth, making Hannah squeal so loudly she froze for a second, terrified that she’d woken Alex with her noises, but the baby was apparently still asleep in the other room, so she sighed heavily, desperately sucking air into her chest as Evan kept bouncing her onto his lap and sucking harder onto her ear.

Hannah readjusted in Evan’s lap, getting the angle just right so that on every down-stroke the covered head of Evan’s cock brushed against the top of her concealed vulva, stimulating her clitoris. She felt herself get hotter and hotter between her legs, something starting to build there that she’d never felt before.

Evan dug his nails into her shirt and growled like an animal, a deeper noise than she’d ever heard a man make, right before he tore her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her in her bra and panties. He groaned at the sight of her breasts bouncing up and down and wrapped a hand around one of them, squeezing lightly. “I want to see your nipples,” Evan grunted, thrusting his hips up harder. “I really want to see them.”

Hannah moaned, lost for words for a moment before she noticed Evan staring up at her with an unspoken question in his eyes. Oh, he’s asking for permission, she realized. Hannah took one hand away from Evan’s body to pull her bra straps down, tugging them off her shoulders so that more of her cleavage was revealed. But not everything. He’d have to work for that, she decided.

“Make me feel good,” she whispered, reaching forward again to kiss the side of Evan’s face, “and I’ll think about letting you.”

Evan laughed breathlessly, slipping his tongue along the throbbing vein of her neck and raking his nails down her exposed back. “Mm, I’ll work for it, baby,” he said before leaning in to kiss her on the mouth. “Whatever you want.”

“Bounce me harder,” Hannah ordered him, going still in his lap for a moment just to tease him.

Evan growled again and wrapped his arms more tightly around her back, pushing her up and down faster than before. Hannah threw her head back in pleasure, exposing more flesh of her neck for Evan to bite and lick and nibble gently. She started shoving her hips up and down again, matching the pace that Evan had set with his arms. His cock started to feel even harder than before, if that was possible, and it felt good to have it brush up against her covered lips.

God, I should feel so dirty, so bad, so guilty, Hannah thought. But I don’t. She felt strong, she felt beautiful, even sweating as profusely as she was in Evan’s arms. She felt gorgeous. She felt powerful.

The area around her clitoris was being pushed up and down, back and forth, faster than before, and it grew hotter, her hole getting wetter and wider with every twitch of their hips. Hannah could feel all of her nerve endings start to burn almost painfully with the power of Evan’s thrusts. God, what would it be like to have him actually fuck her? He was so strong, so thick, so big. The mere thought of it had Hannah dripping more in her panties, getting them so wet that there was no way Evan hadn’t noticed by now.

“You getting hot for me, baby? You getting ready?” Evan asked, leaning to lick a hot strip down from her ear to the top of her breasts.

“Yes, yes, mmm, yes, I am,” Hannah said in a rush, bouncing as fast as she could. “You’re so good to me. God, you’re so good…”

“I want you to come, Hannah,” he whispered before biting the skin above one of her breasts. “I want you to come for me. Can you do that, darling?”

Hannah felt herself go cold from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, all of her nerve endings switching off at once. She kept bouncing, trying to get them to turn back on, but she was suddenly hyper conscious of how much she was sweating, how red and blotchy she must have looked. “I, um, I—” She cut herself off and shook her head, unsure of what she was even trying to say.

Evan stopped thrusting and bouncing her up and down and wrapped a hand around her neck, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I, um, I don’t really do that,” she said with a shrug, trying to sound as natural as possible. “Come, I mean.”

“You don’t…you don’t have orgasms?” Evan asked, his brow furrowed and his mouth dropping open, as if he was shocked and confused all at once.

Hannah shrugged again but nodded. “Yeah, that’s just…that’s just not something I do,” she said, her tone forcibly casual even though she felt a distinct heaviness and heat start pressing behind her eyes. Oh, God, not now, she thought. I am not going to fucking cry again like a little bitch. Now’s not the time for that. She had to avert her eyes from Evan’s wide-open curious face, looking over his shoulder instead to focus on the fire.

They were silent for a long moment, and Hannah wondered whether she should just climb off of Evan’s lap and start to put her clothes back on, but he cut off that train of thought when he spoke again. “Do you want to?”

Hannah was confused, and she was tempted to look back to him to see if there were any clues to what he meant written on his face, but she held herself back, focusing on the still-roaring fire instead. “Do I want to what?” she asked.

“Come. Have an orgasm,” Evan said, and that made her look back at him, wanting to see if he was laughing at her. But his face was dead serious, his eyes wide and open and vulnerable as he stared up at her. One of his hands started to trace its way up and down her bare back, lightly drawing long lines and circles into her skin. “Do you want to?”

“I—that’s—” Hannah cut herself off, frustrated. “I don’t know. Of course, right? Of course I want to.”

Evan bit down on his bottom lip, clearly thinking. “So why don’t we try?” he suggested.

“Because…because it’s not going to happen,” Hannah said, trying to keep her voice steady even though she honestly felt like screaming at him a little bit. “Because you’ll just be disappointed if you get your hopes up.”

“Me?” Evan asked incredulously. “I’m not going to be disappointed. It’s about you, baby,” he said, bringing one hand around to start tracing the same soothing lines down the front of her body.

“You will,” Hannah said softly. “You will be disappointed. Trust me. I just—I just don’t want to let you down, okay? Don’t want you to have unreasonable expectations, you know? That’s all.”

He was quiet a moment, but when Hannah moved to get off his lap he tightened his arms around her and spoke again. “Maybe it just never happened because you never had the right partner,” Evan said. “Have you ever thought about that?”

“No, I—I doubt it,” Hannah stuttered out, feeling herself start sweating profusely from the back of her neck, but she stayed still in his arms. She didn’t really want to abandon this warmth anyway. It was comforting, even if inside all of her organs were trembling like she’d just been shot. “See, I’m just…I’m just broken. That’s all it is. Really. I’m broken.”

Evan shook his head, and she expected him to start arguing with her again, but instead he set his jaw and leaned in close to her face, so close their breath mingled. He didn’t kiss her, though. This time he just stared as deeply into her eyes and stroked the side of her face. “Let me try to put you back together then,” he whispered seconds later, pressing his mouth against her forehead. “It’s okay if you don’t, but just let me try.”

Hannah’s hands were shaking furiously, each cell of her skin vibrating so hard she could barely get a sold grip on Evan’s arm as he pushed his weight down on her, pressing her down onto the couch, switching positions back again. “Let me try,” he repeated, kissing the side of her neck and sending a spark of heat down in between her legs at the sensation of his breath hitting her sensitive skin.

In her mind, a thousand counterarguments rose up, ready for the occasion. No, I’m broken, I don’t work right, I’ve never worked right, I’ve never been able to relax, I’ve never been able to trust, I’ve never been able to just lay back and let sensation wash over me. Why would any of that suddenly change now?

But she didn’t say them. Instead she just swallowed them deep inside and licked her lips, shutting her eyes as Evan began kissing his way down her body again. Ah, well, what the hell? Hannah thought. Let him be disappointed if he insists on trying it out. But deeper inside her mind, there was another voice, low and soft and fragile, that thought, Maybe this time. Maybe.

His mouth lingered over her breasts, biting the thick flesh above her bra but never pushing it aside. He must have remembered his promise from before that he was going to make her feel good first before slipping it off and exposing her nipples. Hannah smiled a little at that. Who would have guessed? He was a man of his word.

Evan mouthed over the bra for a minute, making her nipple harden through the cloth, but after a minute he pulled away and pressed his wet open mouth against her ribcage, licking along the outlines of her bones. “Ahhh,” Hannah sighed deeply, filling up her lungs and then letting it all go, allowing her muscles to relax along with it. His hands came up on either side of her torso, rubbing her waist and hips while his mouth licked and bit and sucked along the center of her chest.

“You taste so good,” Evan murmured, dragging his teeth down to her belly button and rubbing his tongue around in small, tight circles. Hannah felt chills go up her spine and arched her hips up to get more of his mouth on her skin. Evan moved a little to the left and found a spot next to her hipbone that made her seize up, giving off a choked moan as her hips froze in mid-air. “You like that?” Evan asked.

“I—I think so,” Hannah said between long, drawn-out breaths. “It’s just…intense, you know?” Who knew that there were all of these sensitive, ticklish spots on her body? Somehow Evan had a mental map of all the places to touch and grab and squeeze, just right, just enough to make her sweat even more.

“Let me know if you need me to stop,” Evan whispered before flattening his tongue against her stomach, dragging it around in precise circles. But he didn’t stay there long before continuing his journey south, down to the hem of her underwear. Hannah exhaled shakily and shut her eyes tightly, trying to keep herself calm as his teeth began to nip at the skin just under the fabric.

Her blood was pumping so fast and so hard in her veins, it almost hurt. But she didn’t want it to stop. She felt like she was levitating, lifting off of the couch and floating above the earth. Evan growled a little and took a huge chunk of her underwear between his teeth, lifting it off of her body. “Jesus Christ,” Hannah murmured, her legs spreading a little more without her even having to think about it. “Please.”

“What?” Evan demanded, his voice a little muffled with the fabric still in his mouth. “What do you want, baby?”

“Do something to me, please, touch me, please, I need it, it’s been so long, please,” she cried out, sounding pitifully desperate as she begged. But it worked, for Evan put the underwear down and brought out his tongue instead, slipping it underneath her panties until he was brushing up against the skin right above her clitoral hood. “Yes, yes, yes, thank you, yes,” Hannah whispered, throwing her head back against the pillow again and breathing hard.

Evan hardened his tongue and licked more insistently, more firmly, dragging the tip of his tongue down, down, down as far as it could go under the restraint of the underwear until he found it, that special sensitive spot that just wouldn’t stop throbbing.

Hannah moaned out louder than before and squirmed around, wanting more of his mouth on her. Evan chuckled a little and brought his hands down to finally push her underwear out of the way. Hannah was so overwhelmed at this point, the anticipation clouding her thoughts, that she barely had the sense to feel nervous about feeling exposed, especially not when Evan was digging his nails into her thighs as he inspected her. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”

“Th—thank you,” Hannah stuttered out, thrusting her hips up to wordlessly beg for more contact.

Evan complied, leaning back down to drag his tongue from the bottom of her vulva all the way to the top, lingering over her clit to apply tight little circles with his tongue. Hannah felt like all of her nerve endings were waking up after a decade-long nap, rubbing their eyes for a second before jumping back to life. A second later, Evan went back down again, focusing on her outer lips with his teeth, gently scraping along while his fingers danced over her inner thighs. At this point, Hannah felt so drenched down there, but she could still somehow feel herself getting wetter at the sensation of Evan’s lips opening and closing over her hot sensitive flesh. She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to have it. She had to fuck his face.

Hannah began thrusting her hips up and down, back and forth, starting up a rhythm of lifting her hips up onto Evan’s mouth for a second before letting them fall back down to the couch. He was licking all over her now, leaving no inch untouched, running his tongue in thick wet circles from the top to the bottom and then back again. At the same time, one of his hands drifted along her hips before shoving under her body and grabbing at her bare ass, causing Hannah to cry out in surprise. “Okay?” Evan checked in between long licks of her cunt.

“Yes, yes, more than okay, yes,” Hannah said breathlessly, rocking so hard between Evan and the couch that her breasts started shaking with the momentum of her thrusts, threatening to spill out of her bra. Evan’s other hand reached up to grab one of them, rubbing the top of her breast in gentle circles, while his other hand squeezed firmly at her ass.

Evan suddenly focused all of his attention on her clit, fastening his mouth around it and sucking gently. “Unnnh, ohhh!” Hannah moaned brokenly. He started pushing his mouth up and down on her clit, giving tiny little thrusts forward with his mouth while his tongue licked the clit back and forth, moving her pulsing nub around in multiple directions at once.

Heat built between Hannah’s legs, starting out subtly in a warm little ball of pleasure, but as Evan bounced his mouth on her clit, it grew bigger and bigger with each passing second, getting brighter and hotter. Evan pushed up on her ass, lifting her hips up off the couch. Hannah’s legs started shaking, trembling like a tree in the grips of a hurricane’s wind. She felt like she was coming apart, heat spreading from her cunt down to her legs and up through her torso, down into her feet and up into her fingers—every inch of her body consumed in this heat that just got huger with every flick of Evan’s tongue.

Evan moved his free hand down from her breast to her legs, kneading the muscle with his fingers and thumb, but after a minute it drifted down in between her legs and found her hole. Hannah cried out as his finger entered her, spreading her wetness around. “Jesus, that feels good,” she murmured as soon as her voice returned to her.

Evan pulled his tongue away from her clit to whisper, “You deserve it” hotly into her skin before resuming to rapidly lick her nub up and down. His finger started shoving in and out of her faster and a little harder, matching the rhythm he was setting with his mouth. The heat between her legs, still spreading throughout her body, got so intense that Hannah had to reach down and tangle a hand into Evan’s hair just to steady herself. She pulled at his hair, needing something to anchor herself down. She felt like she was floating off into space, that she was going to disappear entirely if she didn’t hold on to Evan somehow. A little fear clutched at her heart, making it pound faster and harder in her chest, reverberating throughout her body.

Evan flattened his tongue and spread it up and down, covering her entire clit before he started sucking on it, starting out soft but going harder and harder as Hannah started to whimper. “Oh, please, please, yes, yes, harder, yes!” Hannah cried out, yanking harder on Evan’s hair.

He did as he was told, pulling at her clit as hard as possible, just a second before adding a second finger inside her. “Oh! Unh! Ahhh, shiiiiiiiit!” Hannah screamed, thrusting her hips down to allow him deeper into her body.

Evan started moving his two fingers around in big circles, going slowly at first but quickly gaining speed as Hannah grunted above him. He squeezed harder at her ass, aiding her tiny little thrusts forward and pushing her faster into his mouth. A second later, his fingers bent at a new angle and found a spot inside of her cunt that made her howl like an animal. “Jesus!” she shrieked, bouncing her hips back and forth as fast as possible.

He suddenly stopped sucking and pulled off of her clit, dragging the tip of his tongue along the sensitive spot, one, two, three times before he cleared his throat and whispered, “Good? Good, baby?”

Hannah nodded furiously and tugged a little harder onto Evan’s hair, losing all capacity to speak beyond wordless moans. “Ahh, unfffgh” was the best she could do under the circumstances.

Evan grinned, but it didn’t look like he was mocking her. His entire face lit up, his eyes shining so brightly that Hannah saw colors inside that she’d never noticed before, seven different shades of gold that had somehow hidden inside his eyes for the past several days. How had she not noticed before? She didn’t have time to debate the issue with herself, however, as his fingers pressed hard onto her inner sensitive spot, and her entire body seized up all at once. “Shit!” she cried out, her free hand coming down onto Evan’s shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Come on, do it for me, baby, do it for me,” Evan muttered before leaning in to suck on her clit again for a few moments.

Hannah panted furiously, her stomach rising and falling fast, shoving her hips up and down. But her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and fear, her stomach squirming like she’d swallowed a bug. “I’m scared,” she said without thinking, the words leaving her mouth of their own accord. But the sensation building between her legs was so huge, the heat so much bigger and brighter than her own body, she just didn’t know if she could take it.

But Evan seemed to understand. His eyes were warm as they scanned up and down her body before stopping to gaze directly into Hannah’s eyes. “You can do it. I know you can,” he whispered. “You’re a warrior woman. You’ve got this.”

Hannah breathed raggedly and stared back at Evan, searching his eyes for any sign of deception or doubt. But she didn’t find any. She just found pure, unadulterated belief. He’s right, some voice in her mind whispered. He’s right, you know? I’ve been through so much. My body has survived so much. It’s done the impossible. It’s done the unimaginable. I have walked through hell and lived. This is nothing. This is nothing. I can do this.

She exhaled slowly and spread her legs apart. “Do it. Give it to me. Please,” she whispered. Evan shoved his fingers in harder and lowered his head again, sucking firmly on her clit.

“You got this, you got this, you strong, beautiful woman, you got this,” Evan murmured as his fingers dove in and out of her hole faster. “You can do this. You can do this. You got this.”

“I can—ungh—I can do this!” Hannah cried out. I can come. I can do it. He believes in me. I believe in myself. I can do it.

“Yeah, you can, baby, yeah, you got this, darling,” Evan whispered before returning to suck harder on her clit, but he kept murmuring into her skin, so softly that Hannah couldn’t hear it. But she didn’t need to hear it. She knew what he meant: he believed in her. That was all she needed to know.

I can do this. I am powerful. I am strong. I. am. brave, she said to herself silently, right as the ball of heat between her legs triggered an explosion that took her entire body apart. “Ahhh! Ungh! Ohh!” Hannah cried out, her hand blindly reaching out past Evan’s shoulder until she found his hand, squeezing it tight to hold on through the vibrations that shook her from the top of her head to the bottom of her trembling feet.

For a long moment, she just saw white, then every color streamed past her shut eyes, a rainbow that felt like it would never end. “Shit, fuck, God,” she moaned a moment later, launching her body forward and pulling Evan up to crash their mouths together.

“You did it,” Evan said in between long wet kisses. “You did it, baby.”

“I came,” Hannah said, tears slipping down her face, but this time out of happiness. “I came. Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah. Holy fucking shit, indeed,” Evan said with a laugh, pulling her closer to his body and rubbing a hand over her back to calm the shivers that were running through her body.

“Thank you,” Hannah whispered into his neck, dropping sweet little soft kisses on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Evan said, dragging his nails gently up and down her back. “You did it, not me. You were so amazing.”

“Were?” Hannah said, leaning back to grin at Evan. “You done with me already?”

“Oh, no, not even close,” Evan said before grabbing her by the neck and pressing their lips together again.

Hannah sighed happily into the kiss, rubbing her fingers through his hair. She said a silent prayer of gratitude that Alex slept through the entire event.

“Can I take your bra off now?” Evan asked after he pulled back from the kiss, smiling down at her.

Hannah giggled, regular speech totally out of her grasp for the time being, but she nodded a few seconds later, still laughing lightly as Evan stuck a hand under her body and undid the clasp of her bra, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. Now she was totally naked in front of him, totally bare, but she didn’t have any energy left to feel self-conscious. She felt empty and whole all at the same time, and it felt fantastic.

Evan leaned in again to kiss her bare nipples, licking them gently. “So delicious,” he murmured.

“Worth the wait?” Hannah asked, wrapping her arms around Evan’s shoulders to tug him closer to her body.

“Mm-hmm,” Evan whispered as he leaned in to drop soft kisses against Hannah’s jaw. “Definitely.” Meanwhile, one of his hands traveled back down to the juncture between Hannah’s legs, circling her hole with one finger.

“Oh,” Hannah whispered softly, pushing forward to drown her aroused murmurs in Evan’s mouth. “Jesus.”

“Hmm? You want it?” Evan asked against her mouth, nipping her lips with his teeth.

Hannah nodded and pressed her forehead against Evan, wanting to meld with him as much as possible.

“You still ready for me, baby? You still all wet?” Evan asked, his finger dipping inside her hole, making Hannah gasp softly and bury her head into his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said with a little chuckle. “Yeah, you’re fucking dripping for me. You’re so fucking desperate for it.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hannah murmured, biting down gently onto Evan shoulder. She wanted to make him feel the way she felt. She wanted him to fall apart underneath her. Hannah reached down to play with the fabric of his underwear, sticking her fingers inside. Evan groaned a little under his breath in response, and Hannah relished that noise, hiding her grin in Evan’s neck as she licked his hot skin. Evan stuck his finger in deeper, rolling it around inside of her to brush up against all the oversensitive spots. Hannah dipped her hand further into his underwear, pulling it away from his body and glancing down at his cock. Big and thick and gorgeous, she thought.

But she wanted to tease him more, maybe even make him beg for it. She started rubbing little circles into the warm skin underneath his hipbone, going around from the front of his body to his back. “That feels…nice,” Evan murmured, circling his finger around inside her a little slower as he became distracted by her touches. But Hannah didn’t mind. She was still shaking a little from her first orgasm ever, and she wanted to focus on him, totally take him apart with her hands and mouth before they joined their bodies together.

Hannah skimmed her fingers over Evan’s ass, petting over the skin until she felt goosebumps and little hairs stand up at attention in response to her touches. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, thrusting her hips forward to keep Evan’s finger inside of her. “That’s it. Relax for me.”

Evan groaned a little and rocked his head forward to lie on Hannah’s shoulder, nuzzling into her neck. Hannah dropped her hand down lower, grabbing the bottom of his ass before moving up to squeeze the firm muscle there. God, he was so fit, so strong and big. Hannah wanted to lick every last inch of his body, drink up all his sweat. Well, nothing’s stopping me, she realized, pulling back so that Evan’s finger fell out of her body.

Evan whined a little in complaint, but he didn’t have a chance to push back inside of her, because she pushed down at his shoulders until he lay down, and then she shoved at the side of his body to get him to flip over. Hannah leaned over and started with the back of his neck, licking the tiny little hairs there until he moaned highly, albeit muffled by the pillow under his mouth. She scratched her nails down his back, starting at his shoulder blades and going on to his boxers.

He groaned underneath her, arching his back up, wordlessly asking for more contact.

Hannah pushed the heels of her palms into his skin, trying to get all of the tension out of his back muscles, dragging her hands down to his clothed ass. “Give it up to me, baby,” she whispered, rubbing his back more firmly and scratching her nails in deeper into his skin. “Just relax.”

Evan sunk deeper into the couch, and Hannah couldn’t help but grin, seeing him melt under her touch. For the first time in a long time, she felt proud of herself. She felt like she was capable of anything. A big part of her wanted to slowly rub over every last centimeter of his body, but she was too impatient for that right now. She needed to taste him, to drag him into her body. She wanted them to melt together.

Hannah dragged her tongue down from his neck, following his spinal column until she reached the top of his boxers, taking the hem between her teeth and tugging it down to reveal his naked ass.  Now he was totally exposed, just like her. She straddled his legs and leaned down to bite his ass, digging her teeth in harder when he groaned in response. “You like that?” she whispered as she licked a line up from his ass to the dimples of his lower back.

“Need more,” Evan grunted, pushing on his hands to lift his torso up. “Need you.”

“Patience. Patience, baby,” she told him, pushing him back down so that he was lying flat on his stomach again. She started nibbling on his shoulders, making him whimper a little in response. It was adorable, hearing such a pitiful noise come from someone so tough. She carved out a path with her mouth, starting up between his shoulder blades and traveling down, down, down to his ass, licking the thick muscles there before bringing out her teeth to bite down hard enough to leave a mark.

That ought to show him who’s boss, Hannah thought as she pulled back to admire her work, a beautiful round purple mark in the shape of her teeth right in the middle of his ass cheek. Evan groaned and pushed his ass back further, wordlessly asking for more bites. She did as instructed, applying hickeys to every available surface. All the while, Evan breathed heavier and heavier, little whining noises leaving his mouth every other second.

“Jesus, I need you, I need you, please,” he begged her.

“I need you, too,” she murmured back, rubbing her hands all over his ass before squeezing it as hard as possible.

Without warning, Evan flipped back over and grabbed Hannah by the waist, shoving their pelvises together. Hannah gasped and instinctively grinded against him, their genitals brushing up against each other. Evan grabbed his cock by the base and aimed for her hole, but Hannah put a hand on his chest and shook her head. “Condom. Condom,” she demanded.

Evan nodded and bent over to the ground, fishing in his pants for a second before producing one. He quickly put it on and lightly pushed at Hannah’s shoulders, making her lie flat on the couch, her legs open for him in invitation.

“I’ll go slow,” Evan promised as he moved his cock to her entrance, pushing in only an inch at a time.

“Ugh, please don’t,” Hannah said back, thrusting her hips up to accept more of his dick inside of her. “I need you to give it to me.”

“Okay, baby. Okay, baby, yeah,” Evan agreed, shoving the rest of his cock inside all at once. “Shit, shit, you’re so…unnh.”

Hannah felt a flash of anxiety crash over her. “What? What’s wrong?”

Evan laughed lightly, leaning forward to kiss her deeply. “Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. You’re just so fucking tight. I might not last long.” He grunted a little and started pulling his cock out, starting up a rhythm. “It’s been a long time,” he explained.

“Me, too,” Hannah said, feeling relief wash over her as she watched Evan’s mouth fall open in pleasure. For her own part, she felt so fucking full, her opening stretching to accommodate Evan’s length. But at the same time, he was brushing up against new spots inside of her that she’d never even known about before, discovering new territory like an explorer. She felt her neck and arms become even sweatier, if that was possible, as she began to thrust up into Evan’s movements, wanting to see him fall apart inside of her.

“You feel….so fucking good. So good,” Evan murmured, leaning down to both push more of his cock inside of her and slide his mouth against hers.

Hannah shut her eyes and let her head rock back against the couch pillows, focusing on the full sensation between her legs, the heat that started to build itself up again inside of her. “Yes, yes,” she muttered softly, reaching up to pull Evan down for another kiss.

Evan began to push in and out faster, their hips smacking together lightly as he thrusted against her. “Yes, yes, yes,” Hannah murmured, fisting her hand in Evan’s hair to keep him in place above her. “That’s good, that’s good.”

“Yeah? You fucking like it, baby? You like my cock inside you?”

“I love it,” Hannah replied, shoving her hips up harder and faster to meet him. “Please, harder, please.”

He did as he was told, making the couch squeak against the wooden floor of the cabin as he fucked her more deeply. He readjusted a second later, hitting a new spot inside Hannah that made her scream. “Fuck! Fuck! Shit, fuck, fuck!” she wailed, her legs trembling around Evan’s waist. “Baby! Yes!”

Evan went faster, apparently encouraged by her noises, grabbing Hannah’s hand to pin it down to the couch, using it for traction as he thrusted above her. Hannah gripped back at his hand as hard as she could. Sweat collected between their palms, but neither of them cared. They needed to hold on to each other, to meld together in as many ways as possible.

Hannah used her other hand to reach down between her legs and stimulate her clit while Evan fucked her. Evan noticed what she was doing a minute later and pushed her hand out of the way, replacing it with his own fingers, jacking off her clit faster than ever before while their hips bounced and slapped together.

“I’m not going to last much longer, baby,” Evan warned, slowing down to shove all of his length in and out, every inch of his cock touching the most sensitive spots inside of Hannah. At the same time, his hand practically flew over her clit, pushing it in every direction and making the heat between her legs reach a climax again. Hannah breathed in and out deeply, steadying herself to break apart again, trying to relax every muscle around her cunt to allow herself to explode.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna, oh, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Evan cried out before shoving his cock in and out at a frantic pace, practically pinning her down to the couch with his cock for a second before going still, his cock’s vibrations rocking against Hannah’s cunt even through the condom. “Jesus, shit.”

He quickly pulled out and tied the condom off before collapsing back on top of Hannah, slipping two fingers inside of her while using his thumb to circle around her clit. “You close, baby?”

Hannah simply nodded, lost for words again. She thrust her hips up, wanting more of his fingers inside of her, bouncing up and down to maximize stimulation of her clit. She felt so wet, so fucking fucked-out and exhausted, but she could taste her orgasm on the tip of her tongue and she wasn’t going to give up now, not after learning that she was actually capable of it.

Evan slipped a third finger inside of her, stretching her out. “Ahh!” Hannah cried out weakly, her throat hoarse from her previous screaming. He bent his fingers at the perfect angle, hitting a bundle of nerves inside of her that felt like they were on fire. Evan must have known what it felt like, as he started rubbing that spot furiously. Hannah moaned, pulling Evan’s head down so she could kiss him deeply and bite on his lip, trying desperately to transmit some of the energy that was bubbling up inside of her.

“Do it, baby, do it for me, baby,” Evan said into her mouth, licking his way inside her mouth gently even as his fingers moved harder and faster than ever before.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna, unnh,” Hannah groaned, but it was still a little bit out of reach, and she couldn’t understand why. Heat sparked up from her cunt, embedding into her spine, spiraling out to every inch of her body, but she was struggling to let go and just let the sensation wash over her.

Evan stroked the side of her face gently, his nails skimming over her skin lightly. “Come on, baby,” he whispered, and Hannah’s eyes flicked open, meeting his.

That’s what did it. The gold in his eyes. The warmth. The love.

Hannah shattered apart into a million pieces. At least, that’s the way it felt, contracting around Evan’s fingers, squeezing him in deeper as she exploded, vibrations pulsing out in every direction, filling every cell of her body with fire that burned and burned and burned but didn’t destroy anything. She felt like that fire was rebuilding her, making her into something bigger, stronger, braver. Tears pooled into her eyes again, but she was beyond feeling embarrassed. She was beyond shame. She stared deep into Evan’s eyes as their mouths met again, their skin melting into each other. She never wanted to let go.

A few minutes passed, or maybe a half hour, or maybe a whole day. Hannah couldn’t tell, and she honestly didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to care about anything other than Evan’s glorious weight on top of her, his sweat pooling together with hers. Her eyes eventually blinked back open, finding Evan smiling at her softly.

Everything smelled like sex and sweat, but it was good. It was nurturing. It reassured Hannah that she wasn’t dreaming, that she hadn’t simply imagined everything that had just happened. I came. Twice. I actually fucking came, she thought to herself.

“Hey, there,” Hannah said through a scratchy, exhausted throat. “Handsome man,” she murmured, weakly dragging her limp fingers through his hair again.

“Hey, there, beautiful lady,” Evan said, leaning in to peck her cheeks and lips. “So beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Hannah murmured in response, and she knew she was thanking him for a lot more than just the compliment. He had unlocked something terrifyingly powerful inside of her, and she knew there was no way she could go about pretending that it had never happened. Evan had changed her in a very real, very fundamental way, a way that was scary and exciting and wonderful all at once.

Somehow, Evan seemed to understand all that. His twinkling eyes turned serious as he leaned in to kiss her forehead and pull her forward into his arms, cuddling her against his chest. Hannah couldn’t understand how someone who’d lived the life he had lived could be so soft, so sweet. But she decided not to question it, leaning her entire weight onto Evan’s body, melting into him again. She never wanted to extricate her limbs from his. She never wanted to pull away.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Evan whispered into her hair, rubbing soothing circles onto her stomach, making her giggle a little even through her sleepiness.

Her eyes were heavy, and she struggled to keep them open to look out at the dying fire across from the couch. Seconds away from slipping off into sleep, she felt a flutter of fear in her chest, some unspoken, unnamed terror still hovering around her heart. What’s going to happen to us now? Hannah wondered. What does this mean?

“Hey, Evan,” she whispered, unsure if he was still awake.

“Hm?” he said in response.

“Are we…are we…” Hannah swallowed, trying to summon up the courage to finish the question that was on her lips. She shut her eyes again and nuzzled into his chest, hiding her face. “Are we…together?”

Evan was silent for a long moment, and Hannah’s ears filled with the pounding of her heartbeat. Eventually he pushed some of the hair behind her ear and reached down to kiss the top of her head. “Of course we are,” he whispered.

Somehow that didn’t vanquish the fear in Hannah’s chest, but she did not want to interrogate herself right now. This wasn’t the time for terror. This was the time to be soft, to relax, to shuck off all of her armor and cuddle up to Evan as much as possible. This was the time to be weak.

Outside, the storm raged. But inside, there was shelter, at least for the night. And that was more than enough for now.

Chapter Six

Evan

Evan awoke to the sound of rain, gentle but firm, pounding down on either side of the cabin’s walls. Hannah was still sleeping, naked in his arms, nuzzling his chest in her sleep. He felt warm inside, like a hot little nurturing star had taken up shop in the middle of his chest, especially when he spotted a tiny little puddle of drool on his chest from Hannah’s mouth. He smiled and stroked a gentle circle into the side of her neck.

But then a cold sensation sunk down from the top of his head, slinking down to the rest of his body. It was like his body knew that something was wrong before his brain did. But his mind eventually caught up to his anxiety a few moments later.

Salvatore. It was Salvatore, of course. What else could it possibly be? That fucker was the shadow hanging over everything else. Otherwise, this was the best day in his life. He’d had sex with a lot of women over the years, but he’d never felt like he’d made love before. Now that had changed. He had never felt closer to anyone, let alone a woman he was with, ever before in his life.

You’re mine now, he said silently as he stared down at Hannah’s adorable little scrunched-up sleeping face. And I have to protect you. I have to. Whatever doubt Evan had before was gone. Salvatore had to die. It was that simple.

In the other room, Alex started fussing, low, but in an impatient tone that told Evan that he was about to start screaming if he didn’t receive some attention. Hannah shifted a little bit but remained asleep as Evan lifted her gently off his chest and placed her down on the couch pillows. He walked into the bedroom to find Alex awake, playing with the blanket that Hannah had used to swaddle him hours before.

“Hey, buddy,” Evan whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Hannah. “Whatcha doing there?”

Alex raised his little baby fists in the air, and at first Evan was confused, unsure of what the little guy wanted, but after a second it clicked. He was reaching for Evan, wordlessly begging to be picked up and held. Evan felt his heart stutter in his chest at the realization, swallowing thickly to clear the emotion that suddenly clogged his throat as he reached over to grab Alex and lift him from the bed. The baby immediately pressed his head against Evan’s chest and cooed lightly, content to be held tight.

“Jesus,” Evan murmured under his breath.

In a weird way, holding Alex made him feel like a kid again, reminding him of how he’d felt the first time he had held his younger sisters. That sense of wonder, that mixture of fear and excitement that something so small, something so fragile accepted you, wanted you, needed you, decided that you were the right person to keep them safe. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once, feeling the weight of a tiny child’s trust hit him straight in the chest.

Alex fell back asleep in his arms, sniffling lightly, and again, Evan felt certain of what he had to do. This tiny child, this precious sweet baby was hurt by a monster who was still hunting him. There was no way Evan could sit back and let that happen. There was no way he could just run away and hope for the best, not when Salvatore was still out there. He had to be gone. He had to be dead before Evan could ever rest.

He was so wrapped up in staring down at Alex and making silent promises to the kid that he didn’t notice Hannah walking up to the doorway of the bedroom. Eventually she cleared her throat and alerted Evan to her presence.

“How long have you been watching me?” Evan said, feeling a smile slowly stretch across his face at the sight of a naked Hannah standing in the doorway.

“Long enough,” Hannah replied, her voice light and teasing. Evan loved hearing that. It was so rewarding, seeing her relaxed and calm rather than stressed and panicked. “He likes you,” she added softly, her face turning serious. “He doesn’t like anybody.”

“What do you mean?” Evan asked.

“Back home,” Hannah started to say, but then she paused, wincing at her own use of the word “home” in reference to Sal’s place. “Back there, he wouldn’t let anyone hold him but me. He’d, like, scream if someone touched him. It used to freak people out. Salvatore…Salvatore hated it. He hated that it was so obvious that Alex preferred me.”

“What a piece of shit,” Evan muttered, more to himself than to Hannah.

“Yeah,” Hannah agreed, but there was still a little smile on her face, staring at Alex in Evan’s arms. “That he is.”

Evan tightened his arms around Alex and stared down at his fragile little head, admiring the tiny dark curls that were just beginning to take root there. “I’ve got to do it, you know,” Evan said. “Kill him.”

Hannah exhaled shakily and pushed her hair back from her forehead. Evan inwardly regretted saying anything, at least for the moment. It was so crushing to see Hannah fall back into worry. “Can you…can you please just let it go?” she asked softly, and the sadness in her voice was like a dagger aimed right at Evan’s heart.

Evan shook his head slowly. He wanted to lie to her, say anything that would get her to calm back down and relax again, but he didn’t want to disrespect her that way. He had to be honest. After years of deception and abuse, she deserved that much at the very least. “I really can’t. I’m sorry. I just…I just can’t rest until he’s dead. Please understand.”

“I’m afraid that I do understand,” Hannah said, her brow furrowing. “It’s like a habit with you, isn’t it? An addiction. It’s the only way you know how to be. Is that right? Is that what it is?”

Evan felt his heart sink in his chest. So, after everything, Hannah still thought of him as a killer. It made sense. It wasn’t like he could be mad at it. He was a killer. He’d hurt so many people. Sure, most of them had deserved it, but not all. And that was enough to legitimize Hannah’s fear. It was enough to legitimize her hatred, if she felt any. “Do you…do you think you’ll ever trust me?” Evan heard himself asking, his mouth moving of its own accord without his brain’s permission. That question was unfair. He hadn’t meant to ask it, but it just came out.

Hannah gave a shrug, and Evan felt his heart sink a little further down into his stomach. “I don’t know. But this—this killing Salvatore stuff? It doesn’t help. I just…I just wish we could let it go, let it fade into the past.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Evan argued. His heart had started pounding more insistently in his chest, but he made sure to keep his voice steady so as not to wake Alex back up. “And it’s the only way. He’ll never give up. He’ll never leave us alone.”

“Maybe,” Hannah conceded. “But he might not be able to get to us if we go south, get out of this country, get off this continent. He isn’t king of the world. He doesn’t have the same power everywhere.”

It sounded logical. Maybe she was even right. But it wasn’t enough for Evan. “Maybe. But…we can’t really know that for sure, can we? It’s not like either of us have tested it out. Do you really want to live the rest of your life with one eye looking behind you, constantly worrying that the second you let your guard down he’ll be there, ready to hurt you and Alex?” Evan asked.

Hannah was silent a moment, pursing her lips as she considered the proposition. “Maybe not,” she finally whispered. “But it’s better than having his blood on my hands.”

“It wouldn’t be on your hands,” Evan argued. “I’ll do it. I’ll handle the whole thing.”

She smiled a little, but it was sad, resigned even. “Your hands, my hands. There’s not that big of a difference anymore, is there?”

Now it was Evan’s turn to be silent and let her words truly sink in. They had joined their bodies together. More than our bodies, Evan thought. He didn’t know if he had a soul, but if he did, it had touched Hannah’s the night before. They were united now, in more ways than one. And that was precisely why he had to do this.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he truly meant it. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do,” Evan continued, his voice low and shaky. “But I have to keep you safe. Please understand that. I just…I just have to.” Maybe it was just because he was a murderer, maybe it was because his insides were all rotten-through, all dead inside. But Hannah’s weren’t. Alex’s weren’t. And Evan would fight like hell to make sure they stayed that way.

Silence fell again, but after a moment Hannah started nodding slowly, walking forward into the room. “Just don’t do it yet, okay?” Hannah said, stepping closer to Evan until the space between their bodies was erased. “Promise me that. Stay with us a while longer. I need—I need you.” She averted her eyes, staring down at the floor. “To feel safe.”

“Okay,” Evan whispered, staring at Hannah until she raised her eyes to meet his. “Okay, I won’t. I won’t do it yet.”

“And, and, please just give me some warning before you do. If you do,” Hannah said. “Because you know you can always…you can always choose not to.”

That wasn’t true, as far as Evan was concerned, but he felt himself nodding in agreement. “Okay.”

Hannah smiled again, weakly but genuinely, her eyes full and wide. Evan couldn’t help himself. He had to lean in to kiss her, making sure to keep one hand on Alex.

“Mm,” Hannah murmured into the kiss. “You taste good.”

“You, too,” Evan whispered, smiling into the kiss as Hannah deepened it.

They pulled back a minute later, the sound of the wind whipping the trees outside making Hannah tear herself away from Evan to look out the window. She groaned. “Unnnngh. I hope it doesn’t storm again. I fucking hate storms.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised, smiling teasingly at her. But he meant it, more than he had meant anything in his whole life.

“The trees out there are beautiful, though,” Hannah said, walking over to the window to gesture to the one nearest the house. “Gorgeous.”

“You think?” Evan asked a little incredulously. “They’re so skinny and small.”

“Those are my favorite ones,” Hannah said. “They’re brave little fuckers. Making it through the winter somehow. That’s something to be proud of.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, smiling at Hannah as she continued to stare out the window at the trees. “It is.”

An idea struck Evan, and it sounded so stupid and ridiculous that at first he dismissed it, trying to push it to the back of his mind. But it didn’t work. It was a persistent little fuck of an idea, and Evan knew it wouldn’t go away unless he voiced it.

“Let’s bring one in,” Evan said.

“What?” Hannah asked, turning around to face him, confused.

“For, um, for Christmas.” He ducked his head down, focusing on the top of Alex’s head, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

But Hannah didn’t mock his idea. “Really?” she asked softly instead, walking back over to him and grabbing his free hand. “You want that?”

“I want, um, I want Alex to have that,” Evan forced out, the words painful as they left his mouth even though he meant them. He did want Alex to have a Christmas. A real Christmas. A warm Christmas.

“I thought you hated Christmas,” Hannah replied, grabbing onto his hand more firmly.

“Not anymore,” Evan said, feeling himself blush more deeply, as if he was a weak little schoolboy.

“How would we do it?” Hannah asked.

“There’s an ax just inside the door,” Evan said. “I saw it when we came in. I can go out and take one of the skinny trees down and carry it in.”

“What would we do for decorations?” Hannah asked. “I don’t—I don’t want to leave the cabin unless we have to.”

Evan thought about it. “Well, what would we need, really? Some shiny, colorful shit. We got to be able to find that stuff around here somewhere.”

Hannah screwed up her face in concentration. It looked really cute, tempting Evan to lean in and kiss her again, but he let her think. “When I was a kid, we didn’t have any money, you know, so we made our own ornaments. We could…we could grab some paper and some scissors and make paper baubles that way. Let me look in the closets out there,” she said, crossing the bedroom to go to the main section of the cabin.

Evan put Alex back down on the bed, swaddling him securely with blankets before following Hannah out to the main room. “While you do that, I’m going to chop that fucking tree down before the storm sets in again.”

He grabbed the ax on his way out, heading to the tree right outside the bedroom window. Hannah’s favorite. But as he aimed his weapon at it, he mentally transformed it into another target entirely. Salvatore’s broad dumb face. “Yeah, eat metal, you fuck,” Evan muttered as he dug the ax into the base of the tree. “Fucking choke on it.” When the time came to kill Salvatore, Evan would enjoy it. Maybe he would hide that from Hannah. It might make her think less of him, but he couldn’t help but think some part of her would enjoy it, too.

***

Hannah

Hannah found some colored paper, albeit thinner than the kind she wanted, in an office room to the back of the house. Next, she located a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawers and set off to work, making rough, uneven circles out of the paper. Green, yellow, red, brown, and pink. Not exactly uniformly Christmas colors, but it would work. She got herself a pen from the office and traced out angel shapes, cutting them out as best as she could. They kind of just looked like wonky, lopsided people with huge arms, but it was good enough. More than good enough, she thought with a smile, listening to the low thudding sounds outside as Evan attacked the tree. They were making their own Christmas with their own hands. And it was Evan’s idea, which made everything a thousand times sweeter. She’d made him believe in Christmas again. That was the closest thing to a miracle she’d seen in a long time. Maybe ever.

Hannah found a set of paperclips next, using them to poke holes in the paper ornaments and sticking them through the new openings. She’d use them to hang the ornaments up, wrapping around the branches of the tree. A minute later, the front door swung open, and a panting Evan dragged the tree inside, probably ruining the nice welcome mat in the process, but Hannah couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Big mountain man,” she said teasingly as Evan huffed and puffed, pulling the tree to the center of the room.

“That’s about as far as it’s going to go,” he said between huge panting breaths, lifting the tree up and leaning it against the wall. “Little crooked, but it’ll have to work.”

“Let me get Alex. I don’t want him to miss this,” Hannah said before heading into the bedroom to grab Alex. She returned to the living room a minute later, placing him down on the couch so he could watch her decorate the tree.

Hannah grabbed the bundle of paper ornaments and placed them down in a pile on the floor next to the tree. “You want to help?” she asked Evan as she began to hang some of the paper baubles from the tree with the paperclips.

“That’s okay, I’ll just watch you,” Evan said, sitting down next to Alex, who was cooing lightly in curiosity.

“Come on,” Hannah prodded him. “Just hang one or two. For me?”

Evan was quiet a moment, but when she turned around to pout at him, it was all over. He got up and went over to her, bashfully smiling a little as she handed him an angel to hang from the tree. “Where do I—”

“Anywhere,” Hannah said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. “There’s no wrong place.”

“Yes, teacher,” he said teasingly before hanging an angel on a low branch.

But Evan didn’t stop at one or two. He kept accepting the ornaments as Hannah handed them to him, alternating branches to maximize coverage of the tree. Hannah felt her heart beat joyously in her chest. She hadn’t felt this good in…maybe ever. She felt like she and Evan were reinventing Christmas together, making it with their own two hands, reshaping it into something they could be proud of. They felt…like a family.

As they finished their task, Hannah clapped her hands together and jumped up and down like a small child, excitement filling her entire body. “It’s so cute!” she cried.

“No, you are,” Evan said, pulling her into a deep kiss.

“I just wish I had a camera to take a picture of it….or some hot cocoa or something to commemorate the occasion,” Hannah said against his lips as they pulled apart.

“Well, they might have some,” Evan said, walking off into the kitchen. “I’ll check.”

Hannah grinned, watching him through the open doorway as he shuffled through the cabinets and drawers. It didn’t matter if he didn’t find anything. Happiness filled her up with warmth anyway. It was even okay with her that the storm had returned. For once in her life she didn’t feel afraid.

But her joy receded as she turned to check on her child.

Alex was slumped against the side of the couch, sniffling in his sleep lightly. He looked…fine, but Hannah still felt a wave of anxiety crash over her. It took her a second for her to realize what was wrong.

“Why is he sleeping so much?” Hannah asked out loud, worry seeping into her voice. She didn’t want to alarm Evan, but this wasn’t normal. Alex was a very active child, constantly babbling and trying to climb up places where he shouldn’t go. It was almost a relief that he hadn’t gotten into anything dangerous over the past few days, but it was concerning Hannah now that he’d been so quiet and still. That just wasn’t her son.

Maybe it’s just overstimulation, she thought. He’s had to move around so much, maybe it’s just tiring him out. But she couldn’t stop the bile from rising up her throat and filling her mouth as a result of her anxiety.

“Found some chocolate bars, will that work?” Evan said as he walked back into the room. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked, clearly detecting her worry right away.

“Um, it’s just Alex,” Hannah murmured, sitting down and reaching over to take her son into her arms, rocking him a little bit back and forth. “He’s not…he’s not himself.”

“He’s just sleeping,” Evan said. “He looks fine.”

“Yeah, but he usually doesn’t sleep all the time. He’s more…jumping around and getting into trouble, you know.” She clutched Alex tighter, trying to get him to wake up. Alex just sniffled some more and crushed his face against her chest. “He’s not okay,” she murmured.

“How can you tell?” Evan asked, putting the chocolate bars down on the coffee table.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Hannah could feel panic fill every cell of her body. “I can just tell.” Mother’s intuition, she thought.

Alex sniffled again and whined low, deep in his throat. Shit. He had been sniffling a lot the past day. Did he just have a cold?

Hannah rubbed her hand down Alex’s back, detecting lots of tension in his tiny little muscles, as if all of them had expended far too much energy in too short a time period. “He’s not okay,” she said again.

“Okay, what do you need to do?” Evan asked, sitting down next to her.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Hannah said again, her voice rising in impatience and frustration. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m not mad at you or anything,” she rushed to add, turning to face Evan. “I just don’t know what to do. My baby’s sick.”

“Does he have a fever?” Evan asked, gesturing to Alex’s head.

Hannah placed one hand on Alex’s forehead, trying to detect his temperature, but it was hard to tell. He felt warm; was that bad or good? “I can’t tell.”

“Let me look for a thermometer. There’s got to be one around here,” Evan said, getting to his feet.

“I think there’s one in one of the kitchen drawers,” Hannah said, remembering from her search for the scissors earlier.

“Got it!” Evan yelled from the other room, running back with an oral thermometer in his hand. “Do I wash it off or…?”

“Just to be safe,” Hannah said. “I can do it.” She got to her feet to reach out for the thermometer, but Evan was already on his way to the bathroom to rinse it off.

A minute later, he returned with the tool again, handing it off to Hannah, who made sure it was dry and room temperature before sticking it under Alex’s arm. “Hold on for me, baby, okay?” she whispered, soothingly rubbing the back of his head.

After another minute, the thermometer beeped, and Hannah pulled it out of his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she said. “We got to….we got to go, Evan.” She got to her feet, pressing Alex against her chest tightly.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it bad?” Evan asked, following her to the front of the cabin.

“Really bad,” Hannah answered. “Get…get your jacket on.” She didn’t know why she told Evan that. Her maternal instincts must have been going into overdrive. They must be compensating for time lost, she berated herself. As she walked through the front door and headed for the car, she couldn’t help but beat herself up internally. All day she’d been playing house with Evan when her baby was on death’s door. What kind of mother was she?

“It’ll be okay,” Evan said, even though he had no idea how bad things were. “He’ll be fine, baby.”

Hannah didn’t say anything, quickly putting Alex in his car seat and sitting right next to him. “Hospital,” she directed Evan. “Closest one. Just…please.”

“Got it,” Evan said, hurriedly backing out onto the dirt path again, speeding through the woods and heading for the main road. “It’ll be all right. It’ll be fine, Hannah. I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” she whispered as they found the highway once again. She leaned over to rub Alex’s head, even though he was fast asleep again. How much was this baby going to suffer? How much pain was he going to feel? Is he going to be taken away from me? Hannah wondered. Is this my punishment, for staying with Salvatore as long as I did, for letting Salvatore hurt my son, for stealing cars, for being a shitty mother, for everything I’ve fucked up?

It was another twenty minutes of driving before Evan pulled into the parking lot of a hospital. “Go in,” he said, pulling up to the curb of the emergency room. “I’ll find a place to park.”

Hannah nodded, too stressed to argue even though the hairs on the back of her neck stood up at the idea of splitting up even for a few minutes.

She rushed in, holding on to Alex with one arm and gripping her bag with the other, getting in line to talk to the receptionist to get a number for the nurses to see her son.

It was excruciating, waiting, but she didn’t want to ask anybody to skip the line or ask for help in any other way if she didn’t absolutely have to. The fewer people noticed them, the better. For all she knew, Salvatore had people camped out at all the hospitals, waiting for any sign of her.

Evan walked in a minute later, walking up to their place in line and taking Alex from her arms to give her a break.

“Thanks,” she whispered in response. She wished she could lean into him, let all of her weight sink into his body, but she was afraid of calling attention to herself in any way.

Finally, after another few minutes that stretched on and on and felt more like decades, it was her turn to talk to the receptionist and receive a number. “Hi!” Hannah half-yelled. Her voice was out of her control right now. The panic in her stomach was driving everything she did like a puppeteer. “My son is sick. Really sick. Got a really bad fever. Please, can we see a nurse, like, immediately?” she asked in a rush.

“Do you have insurance?” the lady at the front desk asked, rather than answering her question.

“Why does that matter?” Hannah asked. “I’m going to pay you, but please, look at my son, he’s sick, he’s really, really fucking sick.”

“Please refrain from using profanity, ma’am,” the stuffy nurse replied, her tone as even and calm as ever, as if a little boy wasn’t at risk of death. “It’s our policy right now. We need to know who’s able to pay up front.”

“I—I…” She couldn’t use her insurance. It was Salvatore’s insurance. He’d be alerted right away if Hannah used it to save Alex. Hannah sighed deeply and reached into her purse, rifling around for her supply of cash. She probably had a few hundred dollars left. That might work as a method of payment. Maybe she could even pay up front. That way they could get out of the hospital faster after Alex was better.

She pulled a pile of bills out of her bag and held it out for the receptionist to take, but the woman just shook her head and pursed her lips. “We’ll need to have a credit card on file if you don’t have insurance,” the woman said. “We don’t know what the total costs will be yet.”

Hannah blew out her breath in frustration. It was taking every last ounce of energy left to restrain herself from leaping across the desk and throttling the woman with her own two hands. She knew she’d told Evan that she didn’t want to kill anyone, but she was seriously considering rethinking that stance right now. “Please. Just take my money,” she said between gritted teeth.

“Credit card, ma’am. Credit. Card,” the lady said back, her voice going hard and mean.

Hannah sighed deeply and reached into her wallet for her card, handing it over a second later without a thought. “Will you please treat my son now?” she asked. Another wave of anxiety crashed over her, but she didn’t have the time or energy to ask herself why.

***

Evan

Hannah used the card. Maybe she hadn’t realized it, but Evan did. He knew what that meant. Salvatore’s men would be coming soon. Evan scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of a familiar face among the crowd, but he couldn’t detect anything suspicious. Yet. He realized that they wouldn’t attack in this hospital lobby, but the second Alex was better and Hannah left the hospital with him, they’d be ready and waiting, and there was no way Evan could fight all of them off. The sensation of doom slipped down over Evan’s mind like a dark cloud, slow and steady and unstoppable. There was no way out. There was no way they were coming out of here alive.

Unless…unless I find a way to get to Salvatore first. Evan had an idea of where they were, geographically-speaking. They were actually closer to Salvatore’s place than they’d been just a few days earlier. That means it’ll take less time for them to get here, he thought silently, but it also meant Evan had an opportunity to reach Salvatore’s hideout, sneak in, and take him out before the hit was even called in. It would take them a few hours, probably, to notice the credit card activity and trace it back to the hospital. He had a head start, if he was willing to take it.

I am, he realized. I’m willing to do anything to protect them. Anything at all.

“Ma’am, you’ll have to wait with everybody else,” the receptionist lady was saying to Hannah.

“Excuse me, miss,” Evan said, stepping in front of Hannah to talk directly to the receptionist. “Hi. Could you please move us up as quickly as possible? Our child is very ill.”

“Everyone here is very ill,” the receptionist shot back. “Take your number and sit down.”

Evan could tell that arguing with her wasn’t going to get them anywhere. He took the little slip of paper with their number on it and nudged Hannah’s arm, encouraging her to follow him over to one of the seats against the wall.

Alex squirmed uncomfortably in Evan’s lap, his little chubby cheeks stained with tears. But he was crying silently rather than wailing sharply like he usually did. That’s not a good sign, Evan realized. It’s not a good sign at all.

But they were already doing all that they could for the boy, waiting for a doctor to come see him. And none of that would be worth a thing if Evan didn’t handle Salvatore, who would definitely know soon enough where they were. Alex sniffled against him and pressed his tiny hand against his chest, and Evan’s heart filled up with emotion. He knew what he had to do, and he had to do it now.

“Hannah,” Evan said, putting his hand on the bottom of Hannah’s back, trying to comfort her for one last second before saying something that would terrify her. “I think we should split up.”

“What do you mean?” Hannah said, panic clearly evident in her voice. Her eyes were as wide as Evan had ever seen them, worry filling every inch of her irises. It hurt Evan’s heart, to see her like this. But he had to do something. He had to take action, once and for all. For all of them.

“I’m going to try to find a doctor, tell him what’s going on. All this administrative bullshit is just getting in the way. The people here don’t know what they’re doing. If I can find a real medical professional somewhere else in the hospital, maybe I can get Alex in to see somebody faster.”

“What makes you think a doctor will listen to you and come help?” Hannah demanded. Evan wondered if she was already suspicious, if she knew what he was really planning, but he didn’t have any more time to waste convincing her.

“Trust me,” Evan said, getting to his feet. “I have ways of getting people to do what I want.”

Hannah bit down on her lip but nodded slowly. “Okay, okay, that makes sense. But shouldn’t I come with you? We should stay together, right? Salvatore—”

“Salvatore’s not going to try something in the middle of a crowded hospital,” Evan argued. “You’re safe here. Please, just stay put, surrounded by nurses, and you’ll be all right. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

Hannah was silent a moment, considering Evan’s suggestion. He didn’t know why he didn’t just take off, but somehow he felt like he needed her permission, even if she didn’t know exactly what he was going to do. He needed to know that she was okay with being left alone.

“Give me your phone number,” Hannah said after a long pause.

“Salvatore might be tracing our phones. We shouldn’t—” Evan started to say, but Hannah cut him off.

“I won’t use it if I don’t have to,” she said. “But if we’re going to be separated we have to have a way to contact each other. Otherwise, I just…I’d rather you not go.”

“Okay,” he said before rattling off the digits to his phone number quickly, letting Hannah type them into her phone.

“Got it,” Hannah said, putting her phone back into her bag. “Be quick, please, okay?”

“I’ll be quick,” Evan promised. I’ll kill Salvatore so quickly you won’t even notice I’m gone, he swore silently before leaning in to drop a soft kiss on her lips. It’ll be better for all of us after I do.

Evan turned on his heel and walked down the nearest hallway, turning a corner so that he was out of Hannah’s sight. He flattened himself against a wall so that nobody would see him before walking through the closest exit, back out into the winter night.

With every step he took back to the car, more and more guilt crushed down on him like a boulder. He’d promised Hannah that he wouldn’t go to kill Salvatore without warning her first, but there was no time. He knew that if he told her, she would try to talk him out of it, and he couldn’t afford wasting a single second more than he already had. It was Christmas Eve now, and there would be fewer men on Sal’s detail. Half of them would have gone home to spend time with their families, giving Evan the opportunity to sneak into Salvatore’s property and do the deed without alerting the whole crew. It was perfect, really.

I’ll use Christmas lights, Evan realized. They were meant for Hannah and now they’ll be for Salvatore. It’s perfect poetic justice. One last hit. One last time. It was worth it, if it meant freeing Hannah and Alex from the bastard that pursued them, if it allowed Hannah to be free for the first time in her life.

Evan slid back into the car, sighing at the sight of Alex’s car seat in the rearview mirror. “Dammit,” he grunted, leaning his head against the steering wheel. He knew he should go, take the opportunity while it was still fresh, but he couldn’t get over the memory of Hannah’s panicked face. He’d abandoned her during her darkest hour.

What kind of man am I? Evan asked himself, staring in one of the side mirrors at his aging face. What kind of man have I been? She deserves more. She deserves better. Far, far better than me.

But maybe this was Evan’s only way of giving her that. She deserved a man she could celebrate Christmas with, without all the hang-ups and baggage and bullshit. She deserved to be happy, without guilt. She deserved to be touched and held and protected by hands that weren’t stained with the blood of a hundred people. But she’d never have that unless Salvatore was out of the way.

Evan started the car, still pressing his forehead against the wheel, wanting it to be branded deep into his skin. He wanted to punish himself for leaving her, for hurting her, for damaging her trust once again. But this was the only way. Maybe she would hate him for it. Maybe she would never get over it. But there were more important things than feeling loved by someone you cared about.

They’re going to kill me, Evan thought distantly as he pulled out of the parking space and headed back to the main road. There are so many men in Salvatore’s mansion, there’s no way I won’t be detected after I murder him. They’ll find me, and they’ll kill me. But it’ll be worth it. It’ll be worth anything, to set Hannah free.

When Evan was a kid, the man who was supposed to protect him left, not caring whether Evan and his siblings lived or died. He was a selfish man, someone who chased his own happiness at the expense of everything and everyone else.

Evan set his jaw as he pulled out onto the highway, heading directly for Salvatore’s mansion. I’m not my father, he thought. I won’t be selfish. I won’t care about my own life if it means hurting others, not anymore.

Evan would sacrifice everything for the person he loved. One last hit. One last kill. Two final deaths. It was fitting, that this was the way things would end, on Christmas.

***

Hannah

After waiting for what felt like hours, they gave Alex a room and hooked him up to fluids. He cried terribly when he was pulled from Hannah’s arms, and for the hundredth time over the past week she had to force back tears as she allowed him to be pried away from her. It was for the best. She couldn’t take care of him, not the way he needed. It was up to the doctors now.

Where was Evan, though? He said he’d be right back. Was he going up to every doctor in the hospital individually and asking them for help? What the hell could be taking so long?

Shivers prickled up Hannah’s spine as she sat in the chair next to Alex’s bed, watching him sleep. What if—what if Evan was wrong? Hannah wondered. What if there is someone in this hospital waiting for us, and they found him and—and…. She allowed the thought to trail off, the alternative too horrifying to contemplate.

For several long minutes, she just stared out the window, looking out into the storm that rocked the trees back and forth, waving almost rhythmically like fans at a concert. Maybe that was why she was so on edge. No, it’s not the weather, she told herself. You’re worried that Evan has been hurt. You’re worried that he’s been—that he’s been killed. She swallowed heavily and buried her head in her hands, her pulse pounding in her temples against her wrists.

Her hands started itching painfully, like a thousand fire ants were crawling over her skin, biting every last inch of her palms. Images flooded her mind, one after another after another after another. Evan, tied up somewhere. Evan, bloodied and bruised. Evan, lying dead in a ditch. Hannah groaned, forcing the heels of her palms into her eyes to try to force the images out. But what could she do? She couldn’t very well chase after him. This was a large hospital, and he could be anywhere by now. And besides, Alex was still sick, even if the doctors had told her that he would be okay. She couldn’t leave his side.

There is one thing you could do, the voice inside her head said. The cell phone number. For a minute, Hannah argued her inner voice back down into silence. That option was reserved for emergencies only. Evan was right, after all. Salvatore had almost definitely put a trace on her phone, even if it was far less likely that he had a similar alert tied to Evan’s. But…there was a pay phone right outside Alex’s room. She’d noticed it when the doctor led her down the hallway thirty minutes earlier. Hannah had plenty of change at the bottom of her bag. She could use the pay phone to call Evan and see where he was.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to dispel the idea from her mind. She was just being paranoid, that was all. Evan would come back as soon as he could, right? But he doesn’t even know the room number, Hannah realized. He might be sitting in the emergency room right now waiting for some signal from me because he doesn’t know where to go.

That settled it. She’d make one call from the pay phone and leave a voicemail if she had to in order to tell Evan to come to Alex’s room. Then they could wait together for Alex to get a little bit better before leaving and never coming back to this godforsaken place. They could set off for South America, go someplace warm, where it never stormed at Christmas.

Hannah got up from her chair, making sure Alex was still asleep, before leaving the room and heading out to the payphone, digging around in her bag to find change. She pulled out her phone to retrieve Evan’s number as she fed coins into the payphone, typing out the numbers one by one before pressing the phone against her ear. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she muttered into the receiver as she listened to the drone of the ringtone.

But no such luck. The call went to voicemail. “Hey, um…” Hannah trailed off, realization dawning on her all of a sudden. What if Evan was captured or worse? That meant that Salvatore’s men could have his phone in their possession. It wasn’t a good idea to say the room number unless she was speaking directly to Evan. She’d just have to hang up and try again, as many times as it took for Evan to actually answer her.

She went through the whole process again, digging out change and placing it into the payphone to call him again. Yet once again, it went to voicemail after four or five pointless rings. Hannah groaned and took out more change, trying again. And again. And again. “Jesus, fuck, where are you?” she muttered into the phone, hanging up before trying one last time. This time, she left a message, choosing her words wisely to avoid saying anything specific. “Hey, call back at this number when you get this, okay? It’s important,” she said before slamming the payphone back down in frustration. Despite her anger, her stomach clenched nervously, all of her organs shriveling up inside of her.

Why isn’t he answering? Hannah inwardly demanded. She inhaled and exhaled several times, trying to get herself to calm down, pressing her head against the cold plastic of the phone. Maybe his phone is just switched off. Maybe he doesn’t have the ringer turned on. Maybe he’s in a busy loud room and he can’t hear anything over the noise of other people. Maybe he’s a stupid man who just doesn’t check his phone very often. Maybe everything is okay. Or maybe…maybe they have him. Maybe he’s not coming back. Maybe I’ll never see him again.

Hannah swallowed hard to steel herself, trying to turn into an unfeeling stone that wasn’t consumed with worry about Evan. Maybe that’s what she had to be in order to survive, in order to keep her son safe. Maybe it had been a mistake to ever allow Evan to crack her open like an egg, playing around with all of her soft, sensitive, weak spots. She had to be tough. She had to be strong. She had to keep it together. For Alex.

Hannah pulled her head back from the phone, hanging it back on the hook, and attempted to pull herself together, tying her hair back into a tight ponytail and straightening her clothes. She would be a good mother, for once in her life. She’d just focus on Alex and not worry about anything else for the time being.

She turned back to the room, pulling the chair from just inside the entrance up to press it against Alex’s bed, but when she looked up, he wasn’t there. “Alex?” she said, wondering if he managed to escape his tubes and climb down to the floor. “Alex!” She quickly scanned the room and then. She saw it.

There was a man in the corner of the room, dressed all in black, holding a small black gun in one hand and cradling Alex to his chest with the other. Hannah felt her heart jump up into her throat, but the rest of her body was frozen, stuck in time. “Please,” she whispered, barely moving her lips as she begged the man in black. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

The man grinned, mean and ugly, the scars on his face stretching out in every direction as he smirked at her menacingly.

“Please,” Hannah said again, slowly moving her hands in the vague direction of her bag. Maybe she could use her old keys to shove into the guy’s eyes and take her son back. It was a dumb idea, but what else could she do right now, other than beg? “Please, don’t hurt my baby,” she said.

“Scream, and he’s dead,” the man said in a low, gravelly voice.

Hannah shook her head. “No, no, Salvatore won’t let you. Please. Please, just put him down and take me. I’ll go with you. I’ll go anywhere you want. Do anything you want. Please. Just. Put him down.”

The man aimed the gun at her and squinted his eyes, and Hannah knew that she was about to be killed. If only I brought the gun from the cabin, she thought belatedly, the sick taste of bile filling up her mouth.

Just as the gun went off, Hannah dove down to the floor, crawling along as quickly as possible to shove herself under the hospital bed. There were three more gunshots—pop, pop, pop!—but then she heard the sound of footsteps running past her, and she shoved herself out from under the bed, taking off after the kidnapper.

“Stop him! Stop that man, he’s taking my baby, he’s getting away!” she shrieked at the hapless bystanders in the hallway before she broke into a run, rushing as fast as she could after the man.

She had almost caught up with him at the end of the hall when he suddenly turned around. This is it. This is where I die, Hannah thought, freezing in place as the man pointed the gun at her. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. Just death, looking her right in the eyes.

But at the last second the man turned the gun around and pointed it to Alex’s head. Alex cried out, suddenly wailing desperately, and Hannah felt her heart fall down into her stomach, threatening to continue to drop down and crash into the earth.

“Follow me, and your little baby eats lead. Stay fucking put,” the man said before breaking off into a run. Hannah’s feet burned to follow, especially when Alex’s cries grew softer and softer as the man went further away, but she froze on the spot.

A second later, Alex’s voice disappeared entirely, and Hannah’s legs gave out from underneath her, her entire body crashing to the ground in a heap of limbs.

“Miss, miss!” a voice said as someone leaned over her, trying to get her to stand back up. “Miss, it’s going to be okay. The police have been called.” But the voice sounded fuzzier and farther away with every second, dissolving into noises that Hannah could no longer understand, her brain switching off entirely as darkness consumed her.

When she awoke in a hospital bed sometime later, she knew what she had to do.

She reached into her pocket for her phone and texted Evan. There was no point in avoiding it anymore. It didn’t matter if anyone tracked her. There was nothing left to lose. Everything she’d ever loved had been taken away.

Chapter Seven

Evan

Evan gripped the steering wheel tighter, gritting his teeth as his phone rang again. Goddammit, she’s persistent, he thought to himself as he pressed his foot down harder onto the accelerator, changing lanes quickly before taking the last exit on the highway. Straight to Salvatore’s place.

Hannah must have called a dozen times by now, at the very least. He knew that if he answered the phone, he might have doubts, and if he had doubts, he might hesitate. And now was not time for hesitation. If this was going to work, he needed to be swift. Efficient. Clear headed. Get in, kill Sal, get out, and worry about Hannah later. That was what he had to do.

But still, Evan couldn’t deny that it sent sparks of fear up his spine every single time she called. She had to be pissed out of her mind at this point. God knows Evan would feel the same way if their situations were reversed. But he had to be strong for them both. This was the only way. Salvatore wouldn’t stop, not ever, not until he was dead on the floor with Christmas lights wrapped around his neck. If Evan got out of the situation alive—which, if he was really being honest with himself, he knew was a slim possibility—he might even take the Christmas lights back with him. He and Hannah could use them on a tree they bought together, even if they made all the other ornaments themselves.

Evan parked a half-mile away, far enough that the scouts on duty tonight wouldn’t notice, in a parking lot of a strip mall. He was already dressed in black and wasn’t carrying a lot around, so he knew he wouldn’t attract many eyes on the walk up. And if anyone tried to bother him, well, he’d just have to add another name to the hit list. Tonight, it ends, he promised himself. No matter what happens, I’m getting in that mansion and I’m choking the life out of Salvatore.

His phone rang again, shrill and sharp in the silence of the winter night. He made a mental note to turn the ringer off before heading into Salvatore’s place. It would obviously attract too much attention when he was surrounded by guards. But for some reason he couldn’t quite bring himself to switch it off yet. If he did, it would feel like letting himself off the hook. Hannah was upset. She was probably totally freaking out. He deserved to feel her pain rather than ignore it just so he would feel better. Images of her drawn, worried face filled his mind, and he felt pangs of guilt hit him right in the stomach. But he kept walking, slowly but steadily, staying to the tree line to avoid attracting attention.

Will she ever forgive me? Evan couldn’t help but wonder as he climbed uphill, his lungs working harder to compensate for the extra effort of his legs. The silhouette of Salvatore’s mansion was clear on the skyline now. Evan followed it like the North Star, as if it were guiding him home rather than to his probable death. So it didn’t matter, really, if Hannah forgave him, because more likely than not he was going to die tonight.

But somehow it still shook him to his core, thinking about Hannah hating him, even while dead. Even after he switched off the ringer on his phone, he couldn’t help but picture her spitting on his corpse. I abandoned her, he thought. I deserve it. Even though it’s all for her, I will deserve any and all of the hatred she sends my way. But still, he didn’t stop moving, the mansion getting closer and closer with each passing second.

Soon enough, he was on the property itself. He kept to the trees, careful not to step on any fallen branches or make any unnecessary noise. There were a few guards out front, but not a lot around the perimeter. In the back of his mind, Evan worried that Salvatore wasn’t even home tonight. It was possible he was out partying, maybe living it up at a strip club while his lieutenants hunted for Hannah and Alex.

Doesn’t matter, he decided, quickly crossing the flat empty space between the house and the trees, walking around the side of the building to find a back entrance. I’ll just lie in wait for him, then. Surprise him when he comes home.

But when he approached one of the back doors, he felt another wave of guilt crash over him, this time more powerful than any other he’d ever felt. Turn back, a voice in his head insisted as he squatted down next to the door. She cares about you, when you don’t even deserve it. Do you know what a miracle that is, that someone so beautiful and wonderful and strong has chosen you? Turn back. Don’t betray her. Turn back.

The words hung heavy in Evan’s mind. He couldn’t quite dislodge them or push them away like he had before. I can’t turn back, he tried to argue, but the voice just shouted over him. Turn back, turn back, turn back! He sighed deeply and reached into his pocket for his phone, seeing that she’d called over twenty times at this point.

But…there was a text message, too, this one directly from Hannah’s phone rather than an unknown number. Evan’s heart stuttered in his chest, fear clogging up his throat as he unlocked his phone. What could make her text him with her own phone? She knew the dangers.

Evan opened the message and read it, and his blood froze in his veins, turning to ice all at once, all throughout his body. They took Alex. That was all she said, but it was enough. Evan swallowed heavily and put his phone away, straightening his body and tensing up his muscles. He had no choice now. There was no turning back.

Right when he lifted his head, something cold and hard pushed against the back of his skull, sending chills rocketing through Evan’s body. Somebody was holding a gun to his head.

“Get up,” the voice behind him spat, shoving the gun a bit harder into the back of his head.

Evan slowly complied, feeling his heart stutter and then slow within his chest. It was like his flight or fight instinct had immediately switched off, all the adrenaline in his body abandoning him. The man behind him shoved an elbow into his side, urging him forward. Evan walked stiffly to the back door. This place used to be a hotel, Evan thought distantly as the man behind him opened the door and shoved him inside. It’s beautiful, really. A beautiful place to die.

If only I had gotten rid of Salvatore first, he thought silently as the man behind him pushed him more and more deeply into the golden hallway just inside the converted hotel.

Maybe it’s not too late, another inner voice argued back. If I get Salvatore out to see me, I could steal the gun from the guard and shoot him. It’d be suicide, for sure, but at least a useful one.

Evan cleared his throat and addressed the man behind him. “Let me speak to the boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the guard replied in between menacing chuckles. “He’s been waiting to talk to you. Did you really think you could double-cross the man and get away with it?”

“I didn’t double-cross shit,” Evan said reflexively. There was really no point in keeping his mouth shut now. It’s not like he was going to walk out of here alive anyway. “Your boss is the piece of shit here. If you knew who you were obeying…”

Maybe I can convince him to drop the gun and walk away, Evan thought. He straightened his spine and cleared his throat again, trying to sound as calm and convincing as possible. “He’ll kill you, you know. As soon as you stop being useful. Why do you think he sent people after me right away? He didn’t want to have to pay me for the job.”

“A job you didn’t fucking do,” the henchman retorted, stabbing the butt of the gun into Evan’s spine painfully hard. “Save it, asshole. You’re going to die tonight.”

Evan nodded, more to himself than to the guard behind him. He inwardly debated his options. He could try to grab the gun from the guy now and shoot his way out, but it was too risky. The guard might see it coming and shoot him before he even got the chance. Better to be compliant and calm until the opportunity to hurt Salvatore arose.

Even if I don’t kill the bastard, I’m going to leave some scars. That much is for sure, Evan swore to himself.

The guard behind him shoved him to one side of the hall, pushing him in the direction of the last door on the right. Evan did as he was wordlessly instructed, walking through the open doorway and finally plopping down on the chair in the center of the room, clearly designated for him. As soon as the guard pulled the gun back from his head, Evan turned and looked around, trying to gather as much information about the location as possible.

Back when this place was a real hotel, this had been a luxury room for guests, obviously, with a huge canopy bed opposite the chair and an ornate mirror hanging above a set of drawers on the right wall. On the other side, however, there was a crib in the far corner. Evan’s blood ran as cold as the air outside. This is their old room. This is where he hit Hannah. This is where he hurt Alex.

There was only one door, only one way in or out, and the guard was standing on the threshold right now, still brandishing the gun. Images flicked through Evan’s mind, images of Hannah planning her escape. How had she done it? She had to have been in this exact position, terrified out of her mind, needing to get past guards with guns in order to save her son. She managed somehow, so Evan had to do the same thing.

Come on, think, he ordered himself, but it was no use. His brain was slowing down, accepting defeat, shutting off entirely, all of his neurons waving white flags of surrender. It was like he was slipping into a coma, but instead he was conscious and aware through the entire horrible ordeal, just frozen in place, waiting for death to come.

A second later, voices approached the room, on the other side of the huge hulking guard, who moved aside after a moment to allow someone to walk in. Salvatore, holding Alex. “Who’s a good little boy? Who’s Daddy’s little boy? Hmm? Are you Daddy’s little boy?” he cooed with a sneer on his face.

Every cell in Evan’s body sprung back to life again all at once. He leapt out of the chair and launched himself across the room at Salvatore, but a second later the guard interceded, knocking him back against the wall with two punches to the stomach. Evan saw another guard, then another enter the room, holding rope. Meanwhile, Salvatore didn’t even look a little frightened or disturbed by Evan’s display of anger. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you shit,” Evan swore as the two new guards approached him and bound his hands behind his back. Next, they turned to his feet and tied them together, making it virtually impossible for Evan to move.

“Sure you are,” Sal said, chuckling a little as he stared down at Alex. “Just like you killed Hannah.” Evan strained against the rope binding him, hoping he could bust out with a combination of his muscles and force of will, but it was futile. They were tied way too tightly. But why hasn’t he killed me already? Evan wondered. He’s had me here for too long if he was just going to execute me for my failure. What’s his game plan?

“I don’t blame you, you know,” Salvatore continued. “She’s a real feisty one, my Hannah. It’s always been hard to keep her in check. I tried to love her, give her nice things, give her everything she wanted. But it still wasn’t enough. And now….now she thinks she’ll find the answer in you? Oh, no, don’t deny it,” Salvatore said, as if Evan had interjected, even though he made no movement to do so. “I can tell. It’s written all over your face. Plus, the only reason you’d come back here to kill me is if you….cared about her,” he said in a mocking tone of voice. “Silly, stupid Evan. You always were just a hired gun, you know, no brains, all muscle. Silly, silly, silly. You should have just run off when you had the chance. Now you’re going to pay.”

Evan just glared at him, watching as Alex squirmed uncomfortably in his arms. “He’ll never love you, you know,” Evan said, his voice calm and restrained, anger boiling under the surface. “You’ll try for years to control him, just like you did for Hannah, but it won’t work. He’s her son. He’s not yours, not really.”

That finally wiped the smile off Salvatore’s broad face. He snarled at Evan, stepping closer until he stood right over him. “What would you know about my son?”

Evan gave a half shrug in his restraints. “Take it from the son of another shitty father. You’ll never find what you’re looking for. You’ll never be happy, Sal.”

“What, and you are?” Salvatore shot back. “Tied up like a little bitch? You feeling pretty fucking happy now, huh?” He used the arm not wrapped around Alex to slam into Evan’s face, causing Alex to start wailing sharply, piercing the air with his cries.

“It’s okay, buddy, I’m okay,” Evan said soothingly, trying to calm the little boy.

“Don’t—fucking—talk—to—my—son!” Salvatore shouted, slapping Evan’s face from side to side in between every word. “Ever!”

Evan’s face stung with the impact of Salvatore’s blows, but he felt another sensation buzzing around in his head for the first time in years: pity. He actually felt sorry for the sick piece of shit beating him up. He’s never known Hannah. Not really, not deeply, not truly. He’s never known Alex. He’s never known their love, Evan realized. I have. It’s worth dying for. It’s worth it.

But that one bright spot of happiness started to fade as Salvatore backed away from him and cuddled Alex closer. “I’m so sorry,” Evan whispered out loud.

“What’s that?” Sal said, stepping forward a little bit again, but not as close as before.

“I’m not talking to you,” Evan said as rudely as he could. “Alex. I know you can’t understand me, but please forgive me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” The weight of it all crashed down around Evan at once. He’d failed, really and truly this time. He’d failed to keep Alex safe.

At least Hannah can escape…maybe one day Alex will find her and they’ll be together again, but not me. It ends tonight for me. It’s what I deserve, really, after all these years, Evan thought, a quiet cloud of acceptance sinking down around his head and then dissipating throughout his whole body.

“Hit him,” Salvatore said to his guards before moving to the back corner of the room to watch.

Evan barely had a second to brace himself, going limp as one of the guards grabbed him by the chin and punched him directly in the center of his face. He heard something on his face crunch, lines of pain shooting out in every direction. The man smacked him again on the side of his face, then again on the other side. Evan let his head hang down, blood dripping from his nose down onto the floor. Out of nowhere, the second guard kicked the leg of the chair, sending it flying to the ground. Evan’s head smacked against the hardwood floor, the throbbing reverberating throughout his skull.

“Bring out the knives,” Salvatore directed from the back of the room. Evan could hear Alex crying, but softer now, like the baby’s panic had given way to sadness and resignation. No mark on Evan’s body, no matter how agonizing, could hurt him as much at that.

The guards pulled the chair back up, taking small knives out of their pockets and waving them in front of Evan’s face. He just blinked at them, refusing to show any fear. So what, Salvatore liked to play with his food before he ate it. Evan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of screaming.

“Get his phone out of his pocket,” Salvatore said, and the guards rushed to comply, but then they walked back around the chair and used the knives to cut his hands free, handing him the phone. Evan was so surprised he almost dropped it. What are you playing at, Sal? Evan wondered.

“You’re gonna call that bitch and tell her where she can see her son,” Sal said.

Oh. So that’s what this whole thing is about. Hannah. He wants me to bring Hannah here so she can die, too. No fucking way.

Evan just stared at Salvatore, locking eyes with the evil bastard to show him he wasn’t intimidated. Salvatore’s upper lip curled as he pointed at the guards and snapped his fingers, wordlessly telling them to continue the torture.

Evan inhaled deeply and shut his eyes, awaiting the sharp ends of the knives. “Fucking traitor,” one of the guards said as he sliced into Evan’s cheek. Evan grinded his teeth together firmly to make it through the pain, trying desperately to avoid whimpering or crying out. At the same time, another knife slid against his knee, cutting through his pants and then into his skin, deeply and jaggedly. A moment later Evan felt thick streams blood slide down his calves and disappear into his shoes.

“Call her, Evan,” Salvatore said again.

“Fuck you,” Evan muttered as steadily as he could, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Do it!” Salvatore screamed, making Alex whimper in response.

There was silence for a moment, all of the guards evidently waiting for Evan’s reaction, but he just set his jaw and kept his eyes screwed shut, staring as hard as he could at the blank blackness of his own eyelids. Salvatore snapped again, and the cold slickness of the knives appeared on Evan’s wrists. His own lungs betrayed him, sucking in air in preparation for the pain to come. He almost winced as the knives pierced his skin, carving up his arms. I can do this. I can be strong. For Hannah.

“You can make it stop, Evan,” Sal said. “It’s all up to you. The pain can stop in a second if you want it to.”

“Fuck. Off,” Evan whispered, his breathing becoming too labored to speak any louder.

“All right,” Salvatore said. “If that’s the way you want it. I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

One of the guards slammed his fist against Evan’s face, once, twice, three, four times while the knives kept digging into his arms. As time went on, Evan’s pants became drenched, sticking to his legs with a mixture of sweat and blood, while his face went numb, barely buzzing with pain with every subsequent punch that occurred. The longer the torture continued, the easier it became, all sensation leaving Evan’s body as he hid deep inside his mind. I’m somewhere else. I’m somewhere warm, with Hannah and Alex. We’re on a beach somewhere. We’re together. We’re safe.

Outside, in the real world, the blows and cuts and punches became increasingly frequent as Salvatore kept snapping his fingers. But somewhere in the world, Hannah was safe, and that was all that mattered to Evan, at least for the time being.

“Boss, it’s not working,” one of the guards murmured next to his ear.

“Fuck it, fine, give me his phone,” Salvatore’s distant voice said from somewhere in the room.

A moment later, Evan heard a distinct clicking noise and the sound of footsteps before the entire room fell silent. The guards and Salvatore must have left him alone. He struggled to open his eyes, but they were practically sealed shut by the swelling of his nose and forehead and eyelids. Evan sighed deeply, accepting his fate. There was no way out of here, even if the guards did stay gone for longer than a few minutes.

I tried, Hannah, he thought as the grip of sleep threatened to overtake his mind. Please forgive me. Please. I love you.

***

Hannah

Hannah stared down at her phone. No response. She didn’t know what she had expected, seeing as Evan hadn’t answered any of her calls either, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. At the same time, she felt numb, her entire body feeling blank and neutral and empty. This must be what it’s like to lose everything, Hannah thought. You don’t get sad. You just become an empty vessel, full of nothing.

She swallowed around a lump in her throat and pressed her head down harder into the pillow. Her head was pounding, but she didn’t really care enough to ask for pills, even though she was still in the hospital. There was no point in making the discomfort stop. The pain would never stop now.

Hannah shut her eyes, facing the abyss of her own mind, trying to crawl her way into sleep. Maybe if I want it badly enough, she thought, I can sleep forever. I can just never wake up. It’s better that way. That’s what I should have done from the start, rather than try to give Alex a better life. I should have just given up. I should have just given in. Trying was bullshit. She should have just accepted the truth. She was weak. She’d always been weak. It was dumb to pretend otherwise.

Ping.

It took her several seconds to realize where the noise came from. But then realization dawned on her, making her stomach feel oddly sick. “My phone,” she said out loud, hoarsely whispering in the empty quiet of her hospital room. It should have felt like a lifeline. It should have felt like a relief, to finally hear back from Evan, but it was too late by now, she knew. Alex was gone. Salvatore had him, and she was never going to get him back.

Still, she swung her arm forward to the bedside table, reaching out for her phone and pulling it forward so that she could see the message through her blurry eyes, still clogged up with the tears she shed earlier that night.

What she saw made her blood stand still in her veins.

The text read come right above an image attachment. It was Evan, tied to a chair, his eyes swollen shut while fresh bruises and tiny cuts lined the rest of his face. He looked like he was knocked out cold.

Hannah barely had a second to absorb what she had just seen before the phone rang, Evan’s name flashing across the screen. She swallowed thickly, desperately trying to summon up the courage she needed, before she hit “accept” and pressed the cell phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, there, doll,” Salvatore’s voice said on the other end. “How’s it hanging?”

“Where’s Alex? Where’s Evan? Are they…are they still alive?” Hannah asked, her voice panicked and strained as she sat up in bed too quickly.

“They are….for now,” Salvatore said, dragging out the pause in between his words to convey his threatening message. “You want them to stay that way, Hannah?”

Hannah nodded before she remembered that Salvatore couldn’t see her. Unless he’s watching me right now, she thought, a shiver running up her spine as she looked around her to check her surroundings. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s simple. Just come.”

“Where?” Hannah asked.

“Home, where else? The old hotel. Come, darling, and we’ll work something out.”

Hannah’s stomach clenched painfully, her heart throbbing in her chest. “What does that mean?”

She could hear Salvatore click his teeth impatiently on the other end of the call. “Just come out first and we’ll see.”

“How do I know you haven’t already killed Evan? You could be bluffing to get me to come out,” Hannah argued.

“You hear this?” Salvatore said, a whooshing sound filling Hannah’s ear as he moved the phone around. At first she just heard heavy breathing before a baby’s cry pierced through her ears. Alex. Shit. “See, your baby’s still alive. If you want him and Evan to stay that way, you’ll come out, as soon as possible. Goodbye, Hannah.” He hung up immediately, oppressive hopeless silence filling Hannah’s ears in place of the sounds of her baby boy.

She was still lightheaded from fainting earlier, but she had to get up without attracting the attention of any of the nurses. She slowly shifted and put her feet on the ground, carefully standing up and taking an experimental step. It took all of her energy, all of the effort left in her bones to move. But she did it. She pushed forward, finding her shoes on the other side of the room along with her big bag.

Hannah quickly slipped her feet inside her boots and swung the bag over her shoulder, heading for the door. She walked down the hallway casually, trying not to be noticed by anybody, but as soon as she turned a corner she broke out into a run, stumbling as fast as she could for the stairs. She kept going, her body relearning how to move with every step she took down until she exited out into a parking garage.

Shit, I don’t have a car, Hannah realized, looking around at the lines of SUVs and vans that surrounded her. Oh, well. Her old tricks from her teenage days would have to pay off for her one last time.

She chose a small blue car, pulling a long thin wire out of her bag to slip through the crack in the window and crack the lock on the front door. Her wrists weren’t cooperating with her, so it took a few minutes longer than it should have, Hannah constantly looking over her shoulder every few seconds and ducking out of sight whenever a random person walked down into the garage and went past her. But eventually the lock clicked open and Hannah climbed inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

What are the chances that a key is waiting for me? Hannah wondered, searching the glove compartment for a spare. When her trembling hands finally landed on the key, she brought it to her mouth and kissed it repeatedly, tears pooling in her eyes as a result of the miracle that she had just been granted. Maybe God is watching out for me, she thought despite the circumstances. I still have a chance.

She pulled out of the garage as quickly as possible, speeding down the main road until she could get on the highway, heading for the old hotel that used to be her home.

When the silhouette of the old mansion appeared on the skyline, her tongue went as dry as sandpaper in her mouth and the contents of her stomach swam around in her gut like fish trying to escape a bowl full of water. Just a couple of weeks ago she’d run from this place, and at the time she swore never to come back. How had she failed so terribly?

Enough whining, she berated herself, pressing down on the accelerator to get to the hotel faster. You have to go in again. You have to.

She had no choice. Evan had looked…he’d looked horrible, tied up the way he was in that picture. There was no way she could leave him there to die. But what if I’m too late? Hannah wondered, her heart pounding in her throat violently at the thought.

I can’t be too late. I can’t be, she argued with herself. There’s no way. I haven’t…I haven’t told him yet… Her inner monologue trailed off.

What? What haven’t I told him? Hannah thought as her car rapidly closed the distance stretching out in front of the old hotel.

That he is loved, she answered herself, and she knew it to be true the way she knew the earth was real, the way she knew that blood ran in her veins. It was like the love she felt for him had been hiding inside of her all of her life, waiting for this moment to finally wake up. It was exactly what she needed, energizing every cell in her body. Preparing her for war.

Time to stop running. Time to face the music, no matter how ugly it is. Time to save my boys.

The car rolled to a stop in the front driveway. She wasn’t trying to hide. She was going to walk in with her head held high, even if one of Salvatore’s guards put a bullet into it a second later. Hannah exhaled shakily. She decided to leave her bag in the car. It would only be taken away from her anyway.

Hannah got out of the car, locking it and shoving the key deep in her back pocket as she approached the front door of the old hotel. She used to love this place a little bit. It was the first home she’d had without a leaky roof. That counted for something, some feeling of security that she’d never expected to feel as a kid. But now as she walked inside, she couldn’t feel anything but dread.

As soon as she passed through the threshold, two broad hands landed under her arms, picking her up and holding her in midair. Hannah kicked her feet a little but didn’t actually resist.

“All right, all right, I’m coming willingly, hands off,” she said to the hulking guard that had lifted her and now patted her down, clearly looking for a gun or a knife or anything else she could use as a weapon. She held her breath as the guard patted down her back pocket, but he didn’t notice the key inside. At least there was a chance, however small, that she could still get away in the car if she got the opportunity to run back outside after grabbing Alex and Evan.

After another few seconds of searching, the guard was finally satisfied, but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back, squeezing tight around her wrists.

“Is that really fucking necessary?” Hannah asked, trying to pull out of the guard’s grasp.

“Shut your trap,” the guard said. “Walk.”

Hannah did as he said, going forward into the entry hallway, turning corners when the guard unceremoniously shoved her left or right. Eventually she realized where they were going: to her old bedroom, where Salvatore used to keep her holed up with Alex. But before they could get there, Salvatore appeared out of one of the side rooms, causing the guard to freeze in his tracks before pushing Hannah forward in Salvatore’s direction.

“Hello, lover,” Salvatore said, an ugly grin spreading across his face. “You know, there was a part of me that hoped you wouldn’t come.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Hannah asked, feeling the sick burn of hatred climb up her back and lower neck as she stared at the man who had imprisoned and then hunted her.

Salvatore shrugged a little, stepping forward to grab Hannah’s hands. “Oh, you’re cold,” he said, rubbing her wrists with his fingers. Hannah trembled and yanked her hands away out of his grasp.

“Okay, I’m here, I did what you wanted. But don’t fucking touch me, Salvatore,” she said, suppressing the urge to spit in his face.

He sighed deeply and cocked his head to one side, looking at her like she was an animal in a zoo. “I’m sad you came, because I thought that maybe I was wrong. Maybe you didn’t love him. But you do, don’t you?”

Hannah narrowed her eyes and scowled. “None of your fucking business.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” Salvatore replied. “It is my business, because you’re mine, Hannah. You’ve always been mine. All I wanted was for you to come home, come back to me, but instead you—”

Hannah cut him off, her disgust becoming too much to bear. “No, no, you didn’t want that, otherwise you wouldn’t have sent your fucking goons after me, trying to murder me and steal Alex—”

“And you fell in love with one of those goons,” Salvatore interrupted her, making her fall silent. “What’s going through your mind, Hannah? What is your silly stupid little head thinking of? You think anything will be different with him? You think he’s any different from me?”

Hannah just stared at him, watching as his face got redder and redder as his anger mounted. She felt herself start to tremble, the way she always would right before Salvatore hit her in the past, but she tried hard to quell the shaking as best as she could. Don’t give him the satisfaction, she told herself. Don’t give him your fear.

“Answer me,” Salvatore demanded. “You think he’s better than me? You think he’s not going to get fed up like I do by the stupid fucking bullshit you say and knock you around? Huh?”

Hannah swallowed to clear the lump in her throat, image after image after image of Evan flooding her mind at the thought. He was a murderer, just like Salvatore. So what was the difference, really? “He’s not a monster,” she whispered. “That’s the difference.”

She saw the hand aiming for her face before it connected. That didn’t make the pain any less real, her cheek stinging with the force of the impact. She cupped her cheek and rubbed her skin to make the pain go away, but she didn’t duck her head or drop her eyes like she would have in the past. She faced him down, staring as hard as she could into his eyes. I know what you are, she said silently with her gaze. And deep down inside you do, too.

Salvatore’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his face going a deep red as if he could hear the silent words. “You want to see how mean I can be? You haven’t seen shit yet.”

He launched forward and grabbed Hannah by the hair, dragging her across the hallway towards her old bedroom. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t escaped this place. This was where she was going to spend the rest of her life, no matter how short that might be. But as she crashed into the room and saw Evan, slowly sitting up straight in his chair, she thought, at least I won’t die alone.

***

Evan

It took Evan an eternity to open his eyes. That’s what it felt like, as if he’d spent a thousand years struggling with the pain to lift his eyelids. But he did it. He opened them, staring now at the crotch of the guard standing above him. Evan focused as hard as he could to lift his head, seeing a gun dangling down in front of his face from the guard’s hands.

Salvatore had been out of the room for a while, as far as he could tell, and Evan wondered a little vaguely where he’d been, but ultimately he didn’t care. Any second without him was a tiny moment of freedom, a few seconds where he wasn’t being beaten or cut into.

But then, suddenly he heard two voices shouting, one male, one female. A moment later two bodies stumbled gracelessly into the room. It was Salvatore, holding onto Hannah by the nape of her neck. Hannah. Hannah, no!

Evan had never felt more like crying ever before in his life. He thought for sure Hannah would stay away, that she would know better than anybody that there was no way out of this situation. Now they were all going to die: Hannah, Evan, Alex, all together. It was all for nothing.

“So, it’s a big fucking party now, isn’t it?” Sal shouted, pulling on Hannah’s hair until she visibly winced. “Fucking cunt.”

“Let her go,” Evan whispered, struggling to speak louder. He must have lost a lot of blood earlier; he felt so weak. But he still straightened up in the chair, trying once again to flex out of his restraints despite the guard standing over him with the gun.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that,” Salvatore said mockingly, shoving Hannah to the ground with all of his might. Hannah tried to get back up immediately, but Salvatore put his boot on her back and pushed until she sunk down to the ground. “Yeah, stay down. Stay where you belong, bitch.”

Hannah grunted weakly and tried to flip over onto her back and stand up, but this time Salvatore kicked her right in the stomach, causing her to cry out in pain and clutch her torso.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Evan vowed between clenched teeth, but Salvatore just laughed at him, deep and full-throated.

“Yeah, keep talking that talk, big man,” Salvatore taunted him, gesturing to the guard dangling the gun in Evan’s face. “You know, I tried to give you both a chance. I invited you back into my home after you betrayed me, and you still give me this fucking attitude. Acting like I’m this big evil guy when really—” Salvatore slammed his fist against the wall, cracking the plaster a little. “Really, I’m the victim here. I’m the one who’s been betrayed. I’m the one who’s been hurt and cheated on by this fucking bitch. I would have forgiven you, too. Really, I would have,” Salvatore continued, leaning over to look in Hannah’s eyes and talk directly to her. “But you had to keep disrespecting me, always disrespecting me, always making me mad, always turning me into somebody I don’t want to be.”

“Fucking liar,” Hannah croaked out from her place on the ground. “You fucking love being who you are.”

Sal smirked down at her for a minute before the grin slipped off his face and was replaced by a scowl. A second later, he leaned over her and spat in her face. “After everything I’ve given you, taking you out of the trash where you were born, accepting you, cleaning you up, turning you into a real woman—after all of that, this is how you repay me. Ungrateful cunt.” Salvatore raised his boot again and slammed it down into Hannah’s legs.

“Stop it! Just stop it! Hit me instead, please!” Evan begged, the effort of yelling burning his damaged vocal cords.

Salvatore threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Evan. Evan, Evan, Evan, you stupid little man. I expected better from you, you know. Not the loyalty thing, I mean. All hitmen are opportunistic pieces of shit at the end of the day, but I thought you were smart, you know? I thought you had your head on straight. Instead you just went and got distracted by this evil vindictive bitch. I made the same mistake, thinking she could love me. But there’s nothing good or pure about her. She’s just gutter trash, and she’ll never amount to anything. Especially now.”

Hannah started crawling in the opposite direction from Salvatore, and at first Evan thought she was trying to get away, but then he realized where she was going. Alex. Alex was in his crib, crying for his mother.

“Uh, uh, uh!” Salvatore yelled, like a teacher reprimanding her. He walked ahead of her and scooped Alex out of his crib, cradling him in his arms. “My baby. Not yours, Hannah. Not anymore.”

Hannah chocked out a sob, and Evan felt like a thousand daggers had just been buried in his chest. “Don’t hurt him, Salvatore!” she cried out hysterically. “Don’t you dare fucking hurt him!”

“Now, why would I want to do that?” Salvatore asked, a mocking edge to his voice. “He’s mine now. He’s not going to be corrupted by your weakness any longer. He’ll grow up to be strong, like me.”

Hannah started sobbing full-out now, cradling her head in her hands. “No, no, no,” she said between her tears.

Evan wished he could get up and comfort her, crush her to his chest so that he could take all her sadness and despair away. But his restraints were still tight and secure, even though he could tell the guard in front of him wasn’t paying close attention to his feet. Evan started moving around as subtly as possible, trying to get his feet free. He needed to be able to stand up if he was going to cross the room and take Alex away from Sal.

“You know, I think I’ve decided the appropriate punishment for you, Evan,” Salvatore said, suddenly turning his attention back to him while Hannah sobbed and banged her fists on the floor in despair.

“What’s that?” Evan said, trying to keep Salvatore’s attention on his face while he struggled out of his foot restraints. They weren’t as tight as Hannah’s were, he noted. They were coming loose, slowly but surely. He just had to make sure the guards didn’t notice and retie them tighter.

“You’re going to watch her die,” Salvatore said in a casual tone of voice, shrugging lightly. “Seems fitting. She’s the only thing you really care about, right?”

Evan didn’t say anything, setting his mouth into a straight line as he stared back at the mobster. He knew that if he reacted now, Salvatore might just torture Hannah more or worse, kill her faster.

“Answer me, you piece of shit!” Salvatore shouted, walking forward to kick Hannah in the side again.

“Don’t do what he says, Evan,” Hannah said in between huge panting breaths, curled up in a little ball on the floor. “He’ll kill us anyway. Don’t give him what he wants.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Evan murmured, watching as Sal turned practically purple in response to his words.

“Come here, ‘baby,’” Salvatore said mockingly, leaning over her with Alex in his arms and using his free hand to slam Hannah’s head into the ground again.

Alex started screaming, incredibly loudly, causing the guard above Evan to tear his eyes away from his captive in annoyance.

Now or never, Evan thought, flexing every muscle of his body until he finally somehow broke the restraints left on his arms. He reached up quickly and grabbed the gun from the guard standing above him, forcing it out of his hands. For a second he fumbled with the gun, almost dropping it, but he rapidly recovered, flipping the gun back around and pointing it at the guard.

“Back! Get back!” Evan shouted. But the man didn’t listen, launching forward to try to grab the gun back, so Evan fired, three times directly into his chest before immediately turning and aiming the gun at the next guard, shooting the man before he could try anything. Forgive me, Hannah, Evan thought. I’m not as good as you.

But this wasn’t the time to feel guilty. He got to his feet, shaking off the leftover rope around his legs, and pointed the gun at the last guard, who was cowering in the corner with his hands up. Salvatore was nowhere to be seen. He must have run out at the first sound of gunshots. “Stay fucking put!” he screamed at the last guard before running out into the hallway after Salvatore.

“Evan!” Hannah yelled after him, but Evan couldn’t afford to turn around or yell anything back, putting every ounce of energy left in his body into giving chase. He hurriedly fired the gun again halfway down the hallway, putting a bullet in the chest of the guard standing there, and continued running, seeing the distant silhouette of Salvatore disappear at the end of the hall.

“Come on, come on,” Evan said to himself, his lungs working overtime as he pushed his legs and arms as hard as they could go, leaping through the front door and out into the bitter winter night.

It’s snowing, Evan realized as soon as he exited the building, the snow coming down hard and fast and covering the ground thickly. Salvatore had disappeared, and Evan looked around desperately, but he couldn’t see any sign of the shadowy figure despite the flat landscape. But then he looked down, seeing new, undisturbed tracks in the fresh snow and quickly following them along toward the main road.

“Sal! Put the baby down!” Evan howled into the wind as soon as he saw the mobster running towards a line of houses across the way. But the man didn’t turn around or answer. Evan gripped his gun tighter and tried to take aim, but he realized a second later that he couldn’t do it and chased after him instead. He couldn’t shoot Salvatore like this, not when he was holding the baby. There was no way for Evan to be sure that he wouldn’t hit Alex.

Adrenaline pumped in Evan’s veins, his heart pounding so hard in his ears that it sounded like a drumbeat, like a war cry. He put this latest burst of energy to use, flexing his legs as hard as possible to catch up with Salvatore in the front yard of one of the houses across the road.

“Fucking asshole!” Salvatore shouted, holding the baby out in front of himself as a shield. “What are you going to do? Kill the baby? Hannah will never forgive you, monster!”

Evan groaned. “Don’t do that. Be a man and put the baby down,” he said, still pointing the gun in Salvatore’s direction.

“Not a chance,” Salvatore said between clenched teeth.

“I’ll put the gun down now if you drop the baby,” Evan bartered, slowly lowering the gun to the snowy ground.

“Kick it over to me,” Sal demanded.

“I’ll throw it off in the distance, okay? If you put the baby down first,” Evan said, but Salvatore just shook his head. In the past, Evan would have taken aim by now, finishing his hit no matter what the cost. But there was no way he could endanger Alex. I have to save him, he thought. Even if I die, he has to get out. He has to get away from Salvatore.

“Just hand me the baby and I’ll let you go,” Evan said. At first, he thought he was lying, saying something to get Salvatore to cooperate, but after a second he realized it was true. He was willing to let it go, move on, just like Hannah wanted, as long as they were safe. He didn’t care about revenge anymore. He just wanted to save Jeffrey.

“Throw the gun!” Salvatore demanded, his voice edging on hysteria. “Throw the fucking gun or I bash the baby’s head into this tree!”

Fear shot up Evan’s spine, consuming him. Please don’t hurt him, he thought about begging. Please, please, I’m sorry, just don’t hurt him. He’d never felt this desperate before in his whole life. But Salvatore was a man without a heart, without a soul. There was no way to barter emotionally with him.

Instead, Evan turned and tossed the gun behind him, putting his back into the effort to launch the weapon as far as he could throw it. Salvatore immediately set off in the direction of the gun, practically salivating for it, but Evan chased after him again, finally colliding into him and pushing him to the ground, trusting that the accumulation of snow would make a soft enough landing for the baby.

Alex’s cries mingled with the howling of the wind, but Evan barely had enough time to wonder if the baby had broken something when a fist collided into his face, connecting with a sore spot from earlier. Evan spat a wad of blood onto the ground and hurled himself forward, shoving his entire body into Sal’s and pinning him down on the ground. Evan smacked his fist into his face, again and again and again, grabbing Salvatore by the shirt collar and shoving him hard into the ground, trying to crack his head open.

Evan fought as hard as he could, but his injuries from the earlier torture had caught up with him, his lungs burning with every punch and blow that he gave to Salvatore. Several of his wounds reopened, and he bled into the snow, streaks of red mixing with the white to form pink clouds underneath his body.

He was running out of steam, and Salvatore took the opportunity to flip them over, shoving Evan into the snow and smacking his open wounds with his own bloody fists. Pain exploded in Evan’s skull, every last inch of his skin going numb and fuzzy again. I can’t lose, I can’t lose, he’ll kill Hannah, he’ll hurt Alex, I can’t lose, Evan thought, trying to force his body back up to flip them back over.

But Salvatore forced his knees down on Evan’s gut, pinning him to the ground as he wrapped his hands around Evan’s neck, squeezing powerfully, forcing all of the air out of Evan’s lungs. This can’t be how it ends, no, no, no, no... Evan’s thoughts grew softer and quieter as Salvatore’s fingers shoved deeper into the skin of his neck, pressing down hard on the bone.

This is how it ends, with me failing the only two people I love, Evan thought as his eyes threatened to shut for the last time…

But then something wide and black appeared over them like a flying saucer, smacking into Sal’s head and shoving him down to the ground. A second later, someone’s hand reached down and pulled Evan to his feet. Hannah’s concerned face appeared, wide and open and vulnerable as she cupped the side of Evan’s face and rubbed his sensitive neck. “Are you…are you okay?”

“Alex,” Evan said, remembering the baby had fallen somewhere in the snow a few feet to the left. He heard the wail of the baby rise above the sound of the wind, stumbling off in his direction until he found him and scooped him up, hurriedly pressing him against his body to warm him back up.

“My baby,” Hannah said in between choked-off sobs. “My baby,” she repeated, reaching out to rub Alex’s face. Looking at her now, Evan finally noticed that Hannah was holding the frying pan—the weapon she once used to knock him out. She must have gotten it out of the car parked in front of the old hotel.

A moment later they returned to stand over Salvatore, who was moaning weakly but barely moving. Hannah spat in his face and swung the pan down hard again, grunting loudly, swinging again and again and again until Salvatore stopped moving. “Fucking coward!” Hannah screamed, lifting the frying pan above her head again, and for a second Evan thought she was about to finish the job, but she hesitated halfway down, her arm freezing in midair. She shivered in the wind, staring down at her abuser, but Evan could tell she couldn’t do it. Hannah just didn’t have it in her. And that’s a miracle, a quiet voice in his head said.

“Let me do it,” Evan said softly. “I’ll do it, baby.”

“I, I—” Hannah stuttered, her face flushing a deep red. “I can…I don’t…”

Evan shook his head and offered the baby forward. “Take your son, Hannah. You keep him warm. I’ll do it. Just make sure this asshole doesn’t move.” He took off across the lawn of the neighbor’s empty house, walking up to the porch to remove the Christmas lights hanging down from the roof. It had to be done this way.

Rule six of killing: hold nothing back.

He returned to Sal, straddling the mobster as he wound the Christmas lights around his neck, over and over and over again until they were as tight as possible. Evan tugged the end of the string of lights as hard as he could, pulling them forward until Salvatore made a low choking sound, gasping for air. Evan stared down into his eyes, watching for several minutes as life faded from him, until he finally twitched a few times and went still.

It was done.

***

Hannah

Hannah watched as Evan got off of Salvatore’s body and walked back over to her, stopping to grab the gun from the snow on his way back. “I have to go back into the hotel,” Evan said, his eyes looking off far in the distance rather than meeting hers.

She shivered and held Alex closer, trying to transfer all of her body heat to his. “Why?”

Evan swallowed, his throat working visibly as he prepared to answer her. “There, um. The henchmen. The guards. There’s got to be some still left in there. I have to take care of them.”

“No, you don’t,” Hannah said, reaching forward with one hand to grab one of Evan’s, rubbing his bruised wrist with her thumb. “Just come with me and let’s get out of here.”

Evan shook his head, staring down at the bloody snow. “I’ve got to—I’ve got to take care of them. They could come after us.”

Hannah shook her head furiously. “No, no, please. Please, Evan. Let’s just go.” Snowflakes were falling in her hair, and Evan smiled at her softly, brushing a piece of snow from her eyelash.

“You know these men, Hannah. They were loyal to him. They were willing to torture you, to kill you, to watch him hurt a little baby. They’d do anything for him,” Evan said softly, his eyes wide and sad as he looked at her.

Hannah tried to think up a reason, something to argue with him, but she couldn’t come up with anything. “I’ll go in with you,” she whispered.

“No, stay,” Evan said. “Get in the car and lock the doors. Stay warm. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she said, walking over to the car, feeling her stomach sink as she watched Evan walk back into the hotel with the gun in his hand. Please let him come back to me. Please let him be safe, she prayed to any god that would listen, leaning forward against the steering wheel and holding Alex as close as possible, rocking him back and forth.

Alex whined a little in her arms, but he otherwise seemed to be okay. Thank you, God, thank you, God, thank you, Evan, she thought, kissing the top of Alex’s head over and over again. She was sure that she had lost her reason for living, that there had been no reason to continue. She was certain that her family had been destroyed forever.

But it wasn’t. It was a miracle, a Christmas miracle. Her baby was returned to her, and she was never going to let him go ever again.

Now if only Evan would exit the hotel and come back to her. They could run away from this and never come back, leave this whole mess behind them forever. But the seconds ticked by and slid into minutes, and then the minutes stretched on and on, the snow falling more heavily onto the roof of her stolen car. Hannah strained her ears, listening for any gunshots. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’ll be okay, she tried to tell herself. It’s a big hotel. He has to search the whole thing from top to bottom.

Alex was starting to become more responsive and active again in her arms, the warmth from her body bleeding into his. That was a good sign. But then he started squirming a little and whining under his breath. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she said, rubbing his little back in an attempt to soothe him. Hannah tried to smile down at him, but it must have looked as forced as it felt because he didn’t smile back up at her. He’s as anxious as I am, Hannah realized. Alex could probably sense how worried and concerned she felt. And indeed, her hands started shaking again as the seconds ticked by slowly, all without any sign of Evan reappearing.

Hannah inwardly debated her options. She and Alex were safest if she just waited inside the locked car, ready to go at the first sign of trouble. But…her entire body itched like it had been set on fire, desperate to move. Blame it on her childhood, on her genes, on the way God made her. But she just couldn’t stand staying still. It was part of the reason why her life with Salvatore had been so unbearable, locked up in that room for so long.

Pow! Hannah jumped up in her seat at the sound of a gun firing. Her whole body was tense, ears straining as hard as possible to pick up on any other noise, but nothing came. “Fuck,” Hannah murmured under her breath. There was no way to tell from out there what was going on. It could have been Evan killing the last henchman who hadn’t run away yet, but it could also be the exact opposite. Evan could be inside right now, bleeding to death…Hannah thought, the painful grip of panic taking hold on her heart.

The internal debate inside Hannah’s head abruptly came to a close. She reached into the backseat for her frying pan and adjusted Alex in her arms, placing his little arms around her neck. She had to go save Evan. She had to keep him alive. There was no other option.

Hannah was just about to swing the door to the car open and step out when a dark figure suddenly appeared from the front door of the hotel. “Shit,” Hannah murmured, rushing to switch the engine on and preparing herself to pull out of the hotel lot, but then a second later her eyes focused and saw the man approaching her. Evan.

A crushing wave of relief smashed over her head, making her feel light and woozy, like she was going to pass out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she murmured to whoever had answered her prayer, quickly putting Alex in the backseat and rushing out of the vehicle to slam herself into Evan’s arms.

“Are you okay? Are you all right?” she asked urgently into his ear as she pressed him closer to her body.

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Evan answered, but it was a little less than convincing as he wheezed for air and winced at the tightness of their embrace. He disentangled himself from Hannah’s arms a minute later, holding the side of his ribcage and bending over in pain. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“Were you hurt? Are you…?” Hannah asked, cutting herself off to focus on him, patting his body down gently, searching for a gunshot or a hole full of blood.

“No, no, just…from earlier,” Evan huffed out in between huge panting breaths, putting one hand on Hannah’s shoulder to steady himself. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay,” Hannah said, reaching forward to pull Evan closer to her body, taking as much of his weight onto her as possible. “Why don’t we move to the car? You can lay down in the backseat while I drive.”

“No, no, we can’t, I can’t,” Evan murmured into her neck.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Hannah said, confusion tangling her thoughts together. She just stared at Evan for a long moment, waiting for him to explain himself or otherwise take his words back and follow her to the car.

“I have to—the other guards,” Evan said before pressing their foreheads together and falling into silence, as if that explained everything.

“What about them?” Hannah asked. “They’ve probably run away. They’re not our problem anymore. We should just get into the car and run away before the police get here and want to know about Salvatore.”

Evan shook his head, but his eyes stayed tightly closed, his face grimacing in pain. “They have to…they have to be taken care of.”

“No!” Hannah shot back. “We need to run. We need to put as much space between us and them as possible, and then…then we can just…be.” We can just be, she thought. We can just be normal people. We can just be happy.

“I have to, baby,” Evan said softly, rubbing his hand gently along the side of Hannah’s face, making her skin tingle like it had never been touched before. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” Hannah argued back. She wished she had the strength to pull out of his touch to punctuate her words, but she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just leave. Please, please, Evan, let’s just go. Please, let’s go.”

Evan stayed silent, his eyes remaining closed as he pressed his face against hers. “I need to…I need to go away for a while. I need to find them. Take care of all of them. If I don’t, we’ll just be waiting for the rest of our lives, looking over our shoulder and waiting for the worst to happen.”

The words sunk over Hannah’s head like a shroud, covering the entire world in its wake. “Why…why do you want to leave me alone?” Hannah whispered. “Why do you want to leave me?”

“I—I don’t,” Evan stuttered back, his voice weak and unsteady. “I don’t ever want to leave you.”

“Then don’t,” Hannah said, her voice hard and firm before melting at the sight of Evan’s pained face. “Please, just don’t.”

She watched him swallow hard before opening his mouth to speak. “Salvatore…Salvatore’s organization…” He trailed off, but Hannah remained silent, allowing him to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “It’s big. Bigger than you know, Hannah. They kept you in that little room so you’d never know enough to hurt them. But I know how big they are. There are tons of powerful guys aside from Salvatore, people who answered to him, people he answered to. It’s so big. You don’t know…you don’t know what they might to do us once they find out that Salvatore’s dead.”

“I don’t care!” Hannah found herself screaming, howling above the loud winter wind. “It doesn’t matter. I just—I just need you. I need you, Evan, okay? I don’t care if it makes me look stupid. I need you.”

Evan smiled at her then, slow and sad. “You don’t look stupid,” he said in a soft tone of voice.

“But you’re still not listening to me,” Hannah said in resignation. “You…you want to go kill, just like always.”

“Why—why would you say that?” Evan said, resting his head on top of hers, fighting against Hannah’s resistance to pull her closer. “You think I want to kill people more than I want to be with you?”

Hannah shrugged in his arms, giving up and sinking against his body. “I don’t pretend to know what you want,” Hannah whispered against Evan’s chest. “I just know that I want you with me. I don’t care about anything else.”

“That’s not true,” Evan said back. “You love your son more than anything else in the world, more than…” He cut himself off, sighing deeply. “You and Alex have to be safe. That has to come first.”

“He’ll be safe if you’re with him,” Hannah argued. “Not if you’re away from us, doing God knows what. It’s a goddamn suicide mission, Evan, and I’m not going to give you my blessing to go and get killed.”

“Maybe,” Evan started. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll get killed. But if I don’t…if I don’t go, if I just stay with you, we’ll always be worried. We’ll never rest, not even for a second.”

“But we’ll be together,” Hannah murmured against him, nuzzling against his collarbone.

Evan was quiet for a long moment, rubbing the back of Hannah’s head and stroking his fingers through her hair. “You’ve been scared all your life, ever since you were born.”

Hannah didn’t argue with him, although she wondered how he knew that, like he was reading her mind.

“You’ve always been scared,” Evan continued. “You deserve to know what it’s like, to live without fear. I want to give you that, at least once. Please, please, Hannah, let me.”

Hannah shoved her face deeper into Evan’s chest and groaned in frustration. He laughed lightly above her and ran his hands through her hair again, clearly trying to comfort her. “I can’t convince you otherwise, can I?” Hannah said, her voice muffled by Evan’s shirt.

Evan was silent, and that was all the answer that Hannah needed. The hot sensation of tears pressed against her eyelids, threatening to spill over and reveal her weakness. She sniffled hard, trying to keep everything in, but a few drops of tears came out anyway, rapidly dripping down her face. She could feel her tears freezing in the cold, but she didn’t care, shifting even closer to Evan, trying to shield him from the wind.

He’s going to leave me, Hannah realized, her insides feeling numb and dead, like her life support had just been switched off. He’s going away. He’s already gone. She would have felt terrified if she thought there was any way she could change the course of events in front of her. But it was no use. Evan had made up his mind, and she knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to budge. She felt empty, completely chewed apart, like a carved-up jack-o-lantern, bits of her heart clinging to her like limp pulp. There was no point in trying to put herself back together. There was no way she was ever going to be whole again.

“When are you going?” she whispered to Evan, resigned to his decision.

“Basically…now,” he said back, rubbing the back of Hannah’s neck with the hand that wasn’t holding a gun. “While the trail is still warm.”

Hannah blinked slowly, tears falling and spilling onto Evan’s shirt. “Oh,” she said dully.

“Get another gun,” Evan said a moment later. “As soon as you can. Hold on to it as much as possible, even though…you shouldn’t need it,” he continued, rubbing the bottom of her back in an attempt to reassure her.

Hannah pictured herself buying a gun, holding onto her frying pan for as long as possible before that point to protect herself and Alex. “So I just look over my shoulder all the time, until…what? You show up?” Hannah asked.

“If I show up,” he corrected her softly, and Hannah moaned in pain, crushing her face deep into his chest so she could smell his scent, take as much of him in as possible.

“Please,” Hannah said, and at that point she wasn’t even sure what she was begging for, but she was desperate for it nonetheless, feeling her heart stutter in her chest like she was bargaining for her life. “Please, stay safe. Please, just be smart. I don’t… I don’t want Alex to forget you.” She started sobbing then, thinking of her son growing up without knowing Evan, her entire body suddenly wracked with pain at the idea.

Evan made soft, soothing, meaningless noises above her as he stroked the back of her head, but it was no use. Hannah knew that no matter how much she concentrated, she wouldn’t be able to remember how this felt, the sensation of being touched by Evan. It would fade from her mind like all memories did eventually, only a vague outline of it remaining. She was losing him, and there was no part of him that she could preserve, not really.

“I have to go, baby,” Evan murmured against the top of her head. “I have to take care of us. Please.”

Hannah nodded slowly, inhaling deep to bury his scent into her lungs, trying to keep it inside. “Where do I go?”

Evan was quiet for a moment, pulling her deeper into his arms. “I always wanted to go to Belize.”

“Belize?” Hannah repeated.

“Yeah,” Evan answered. “I was going to go there after…after all of this. Just relax on the beach and…forget about everything else. That’s what you should do, baby.”

Hannah played with the collar of Evan’s shirt, trying to touch as much of his skin as possible. “How will…how will I know? If you’re coming or if you’ve…if you’ve died?”

Evan just kept moving his hand up and down her back, but it didn’t remove any of her tension. It was nice to feel his touch, though, so she leaned back into it, wanting more of his hands on her skin. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered against the top of her head. “Just go to the water. The shore in Belize. I’ll…I’ll search for you, if….if….” He trailed off, apparently unwilling to verbalize what might happen to him as he began tracking the other senior members of Salvatore’s organization.

Alex cried out quietly, almost mournfully, from the backseat of the car. Evan pulled away from Hannah, obviously concerned, so she walked back over to grab her son before walking back over to Evan. “You can hold him,” Hannah suggested in a soft voice. For the last time, she thought silently. She offered her baby forward, using her free hand to pull Evan forward by his sleeve.

Evan nodded slowly as he accepted Alex into his arms, immediately brushing his lips against the top of his head gently, making Hannah’s heart ache in her chest, throbbing like it wanted to burst out of her body.

“He loves you,” she whispered, watching as Alex’s tiny little hand grabbed at Evan’s shirt.

Evan stared down at the baby, his brow furrowed like he was examining an extraterrestrial creature. “He’s safe,” Evan murmured, talking more to himself than to her.

“Yeah, he is,” Hannah said. “Thanks to you.”

“No, no, you were right. I should have just waited in the hospital, with you the whole time. Maybe then tonight would have gone differently…” Evan trailed off, shaking his head.

“No,” Hannah said firmly. “Alex wasn’t kidnapped because of you. But he’s alive because of you, because you fought so hard for him. That…that counts. He’ll know about that. No matter what, Evan.” Hannah swallowed and rubbed her own cold shoulders to counteract the icy wind blowing against them. She wanted to communicate what she meant more clearly. If you die…he will know about you. I won’t let him forget, she vowed silently. But she just stared at Evan instead, watching as he brushed his thumb along Alex’s face and head.

“Thank you,” Evan murmured a minute later, still not looking directly into Hannah’s eyes.

“Of course,” Hannah replied, feeling fresh tears fill her eyes as Evan rocked Alex back and forth in his arms.

“He’s going to be strong, you know,” Evan said, staring down into Alex’s face.

“Like you,” Hannah said, sniffling a little to keep the tears at bay.

“No,” Evan said, shaking his head before lifting his eyes to finally meet Hannah’s once again. “Like you. Just like you.”

Hannah had to lift her hand then to wipe the tears from her face, pressing at her eyes until they stopped coming so quickly. “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely as Evan handed her son back to her. “For everything.”

“Thank you for not killing me, Hannah,” Evan replied, his face falling as soon as Alex left his hands. “I know I didn’t deserve it.”

“No, you did, you did,” Hannah argued indignantly. “I just didn’t know it yet, but you did. You got a second chance.” Hannah paused, swallowing hard as Alex wrapped his tiny arms back around her neck. “Please don’t waste it,” she added in a low whisper.

Evan nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the ground. “I won’t,” he promised, his tone matching hers.

“Can you…can you look at me?” she asked shyly, feeling her cheeks heat up despite the cold.

He smiled a little and complied, lifting his eyes to meet hers. They stayed there, then, intensely staring.

“I’m going to miss you, Evan,” Hannah whispered, trying to memorize the way his eyes looked.

“Yeah,” he said back, clearing his throat to speak, but then he just repeated himself, “Yeah,” like that was the only word he could summon.

“Please. Be safe,” she said, finally turning around to face the car and walking off. I have to keep going, she told herself, despite the fact that her feet itched to turn back around and run back to Evan. I have to live. I have to survive. I don’t have any other choice.

Evan said nothing behind her. Maybe she had heard as much as she’d ever hear from his mouth. Maybe it was the end, now. Over before they even really started. Of course the true love of Hannah’s life would go that way.

Hannah leaned into the backseat first to secure Alex before moving up to the driver’s side, leaning her head against the wheel for a second before she straightened up and turned the engine on again. Hannah turned to stare at Evan, watching him through the opposite window.

Evan had started walking off in the distance, his figure appearing smaller and smaller against the horizon with each passing second.

“Evan!” Hannah shouted after him, tears suddenly streaming down her face as rapidly as a waterfall.

Evan turned back around to face her, his face falling at the sight of her tears. He sprinted closer to the car, stopping a foot away and freezing in place, almost like he was afraid to get too close.

“Merry Christmas,” she murmured softly.

Evan sighed deeply and closed the distance between them, slipping his mouth against hers through the open window. His thumb massaged her jawline, his tongue dipping in deeper to meet hers, nipping at her lips with his teeth.

“Merry Christmas, Hannah,” he whispered against her mouth a second later, before turning and breaking off into a run.

Hannah watched as he disappeared. Her eyes burned with tears, but inside she felt cold, frozen to the core. Her heart slowed down, and the sweat on the back of her neck immediately cooled. It was like her entire body had given up feeling things, but she was still functioning. She survived, again, like she always did.

In some ways that was the worst part, that nothing that happened had destroyed her. She would have to live with the consequences, feel the same numb pain, the same emptiness, for the rest of her days. Without Evan. She would have to be strong.

But it wasn’t like she didn’t have a ton of practice.

Chapter Eight

Hannah

Hannah was walking through a thick line of Christmas trees, a soft layer of snow on the ground and on the pine needles of the trees that surrounded her. She was only dressed in a white nightgown, but amazingly she didn’t feel cold, not even a single shiver despite the bareness of her legs and arms. Hannah turned her head to look behind her, but it was just an endless line of trees, stretching as far as the edge of the horizon.

How did I get here? Hannah asked herself. She even stared down at the ground, searching for some kind of sewer or subway grate that could have allowed to her to climb up from under the earth. But she couldn’t see anything, and she couldn’t remember driving here. I must have walked, she thought. But her legs ached only with the desire to keep moving, a giant itch that demanded to be scratched. So she obeyed it, continuing to move slowly forward through the thick layer of snow on the ground, leaving deep footprints in her wake.

As she kept walking, eventually she began to notice a spot ahead of her where the trees thinned. An opening of empty air. There must be a clearing in the forest, Hannah thought. Her legs immediately broke into an all-out run, her muscles pumping hard to get nearer to the opening in front of her. But it never got any closer. Am I running in place? Hannah wondered, but then she noticed that the trees were moving around her, changing as she moved faster and faster. It was just that the hole of light in the distance remained the same, totally unreachable.

Her lungs finally gave out, forcing her to stop running and bend over, gasping for air. She stared down at the muddy snow on her feet, slowly melting into separate pools of ice-sludge on her toes. The atmosphere must have been heating up as the snow slowly shrunk back into the ground. Christmas is almost over, she thought. No more time for miracles.

When she looked back up again, Evan was standing in front of her, a sly smirk on his face. For a second she just stared at him, examining him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, as if he were an alien creature sent to distract or destroy her. But…she knew those arms. She knew those hands, those beautiful, innately crafted, guilty hands. There was no doubting it, not when the sensation of how it felt to be touched by those hands rocketed through her brain again, all her old retired pleasure centers lighting up in joy as she stared at his fingers.

“Evan!” Hannah yelled, running forward again to throw herself into his arms. “Evan!”

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered into her hair, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly. “It’s me.”

“It is, it is, I knew it, I knew it was you,” Hannah gasped into his chest, screwing her eyes as tightly as she could to keep tears in their rightful place. “You’re—you’re fucking here, you’re here—”

“Are you okay?” Evan whispered, dropping gentle little kisses against the top of her head.

“Yes, yes, I’m so happy, I’m so…” Hannah shook her head, incapable of coming up with the right words to say. There was no language that could sum up how she felt in this moment.

“No, I meant—in general, are you okay? Like, in life?”

“I am now,” Hannah said quickly. “The rest doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

There was a long pause, but Hannah could tell that something was wrong. Evan had gone tense and stiff in her arms. She extricated her head from Evan’s arms and tilted her face up to look into his eyes, wordlessly asking him what was wrong.

“I’m going to go soon,” Evan said, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin of Hannah’s cheek.

“What? No!” Hannah protested, the words hitting her like sharp rocks. “You just got here. I’m not letting you go.” She reached forward and pressed hard against his back, pulling him into a deeper hug.

“I have to,” Evan whispered into her ear before pulling back a little to look her in the eyes. “If I had a choice, don’t you think I’d stay?”

Hannah was quiet a moment, and she knew she was probably pouting, but she didn’t care. It was exhausting being fucking mature all the time. She was done with it, at least for the moment. She wasn’t going to make herself easy to abandon yet again. She was going to put up a fight. “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “I don’t know what you want to do. What you need to do.”

Evan cradled the side of her face, thumb running up and down her cheek. “You know me. Trust me. I’m doing this for both of us.”

Hannah groaned and stomped her feet, feeling like she was a five-year-old girl again. “Okay. Okay!”

Evan smiled sadly as he leaned in again, pressing her head under his chin for a moment as he rocked them back and forth, as if they were dancing instead of saying goodbye.

“I’ll always love you,” Evan whispered as he kissed her cheek. “Even though I’m dead, I still love you.”

“Don’t say that!” Hannah snapped. “You’re not dead. You’re just hiding from me.”

“So come find me,” Evan said casually, as if it was the easiest, most obvious answer in the world. And then, he was gone, disappearing into thin air without even a trace. But if she inhaled deeply she could detect his scent, as if he was still somewhere in the forest, just hiding from her.

She couldn’t go search for him, could she? She had to things to do, a baby to raise. She couldn’t, right? She couldn’t—

Hannah woke with a start, reaching over to the bedside table out of habit to grip onto the frying pan. She had a gun under the bed, fully loaded, but the frying pan comforted her more, felt more familiar within her tight fist. It was really the only connection left to her old life, to her fucked-up childhood and the fucked-up relationship that had followed it. It had kept her safe in the past; it was the only thing Hannah trusted to protect her now.

But after a few more seconds, she slowly put the frying pan down on the bed and let it loose from her grip. There was nobody and nothing there in her dark bedroom. Hannah groaned and buried her sweaty forehead in her hands, pushing her hair out of her face and breathing hard. In. Out. In. Out. It was such a simple pattern to remember, inhaling and exhaling slowly, but it still took all of her concentration to keep at it until her heart rate calmed down.

In all these months, she’d never once dreamed about him until now. Maybe it was the season, seeing Christmas stuff everywhere again, that was to blame for this shit. Her subconscious must have been thinking about him without even realizing it, simmering under the surface until it reared its ugly head in her dreams.

Or maybe something happened, she couldn’t help but think. And my brain is finally catching on to it.

Hannah shook her head at herself and got up out of bed. Maybe if she moved around a little bit her brain would shut the fuck up. She paced back and forth across her bedroom, from the window to the door and back again. What if he’s dead? Hannah’s inner voice persisted, practically shaking her by the shoulders to get her attention. Shut up, she tried to shout back. Shut up shut up shut up. There’s nothing I can do so what’s the point in torturing myself?

What if he’s not dead? What if he’s alive, and well, and he’s just gone? What if he’s out in there in the world, on some other beach, with some other woman? Or what if he’s hurt, in a gutter, with nobody to take care of him? What if what if what if—

“Mama? Mama? Mama?” Alex’s muffled voice pulled her out of her self-flagellation session.

“Hold on, I’m coming,” Hannah called back, grabbing her bathrobe and slipping it on over the underwear she slept in.

Hannah rushed to the door and walked out into the hallway, flipping on the light to reveal Alex stumbling in her direction.

“What’s wrong, darling?” she said, kneeling down on the floor and reaching her arms.

He mumbled something against her robe, but she couldn’t quite make it out. She ran her fingers through his adorable little curls, scratching his scalp to help him calm down.

“Bad dream, Mama,” Alex finally said loudly and clearly enough for Hannah to understand.

Fear struck Hannah’s heart, reverberating through her entire body like a gong had been struck. “What was your dream?”

“Bad…bad man,” Alex mumbled, rubbing his face against her chest in an attempt to comfort himself.

Hannah swallowed hard. Was it possible? Had they dreamed the same thing?

“Who was the bad man, baby? Do you remember?” Hannah asked, all of the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in anxiety and anticipation.

“No….” Alex said, sniffling a little.

Hannah sighed and nodded to herself. That was good, at the very least, that Alex didn’t remember everything that happened a year before. But she knew it was just as likely that he was dreaming about Salvatore, who’d done so much to hurt Alex in such a little space of time. Hannah had hoped that it had happened too early to set in and scar Alex for life, but there were probably some effects still, even if he never remembered it.

“It’s not real, sweetie,” she said to comfort him, rubbing his back to soothe his nerves. “It’s just a dream. Nothing can hurt you, darling. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Alex sniffled again and cuddled her harder, making Hannah’s heart warm up in her chest. She was so lucky that she still had this beautiful boy in her life. He made everything worth it, despite all the pain, despite all the loss. She still had her son. That was what mattered.

“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow, huh?” Hannah said, leaning in to drop a kiss on Alex’s nose. “We’ll have fun.”

He nodded and smiled, that glint of mischief in his eyes popping up as he started babbling about the beach. Hannah chuckled and lifted him into her arms, taking him back to his bed in the other room of their apartment. “Bed first, baby doll. Sleepy time first.” She tucked Alex back in his bed and checked that the sound monitor was switched on before returning to her room and shuffling back under the blankets.

“It’s not real,” she whispered out loud to herself, rubbing her own temples and practicing slow rhythmic breathing. “It’s not real. It’s just a dream. Just a dream.”

But even still, she slept with a hand on the handle of the frying pan, ready to fight off whatever demons might come to haunt her in the middle of the night.

***

The water was warm somehow. That was the thing that Hannah couldn’t get over. She kept her feet in the water while Alex got his hands dirty in the thick sand on the shore.

“Be careful, Jeff-Jeff,” she said to him, keeping one eye peeled to make sure that he didn’t go off walking into the water. But he was a well-behaved kid. He had calmed down a lot in the past year. Maybe because for once in his life he was surrounded by peace and quiet. Belize had given them that, a way to power down and collect themselves. I am a different person now, Hannah thought. Belize had made her someone softer, calmer, even friendlier. It was like the early wrinkles of worry had sunken back inside her skin, and it was because of days like this, days when she could just let the waves crash over her legs, burying her deep in the sand.

“Aren’t you cold?” a male voice behind her said. Hannah just smiled and shut her eyes as she bent her neck back to let more warmth from the sunlight hit her skin.

“Not at all!” she answered back. In the back of her mind, there was still that little thread of doubt—could it be one of Salvatore’s men?—but she was starting to get used to tourists hitting on her. It was no longer scary, just a little uncomfortable. She wished she could just bathe in the water, letting anybody and everybody admire how brave she was, how comfortable she’d become in her body, but she had to open her eyes to check on Alex. She sighed and flicked her eyes open, her vision landing on the silhouette of the man who’d spoken to her.

It can’t be….she told herself. There’s no way.

She cleared her throat and tore her eyes away, turning her head to check that Alex was still on the sand next to her. She stared at him for a long moment, waiting for the shadowy man before her to walk away. But he didn’t. He just stood there, the dark edges of his shadow still apparent in her peripheral vision.

Now more than ever Hannah wished she had her frying pan on her, ready to protect her instead of waiting for her at home next to her bed. This has to be a trick. A mirage. Something Salvatore made up to hurt me, she thought. How will we get out of here? It’s still pretty public. I could scream. That could give me a head start if I need to run.

But she turned her head back to face the man, blinking until his face came into focus. And if this was a trick, there was no way she wasn’t going to fall for it. Because there was Evan in front of her, that same self-satisfied smirk on his face.

She felt her jaw fall open, and she shut her eyes and opened them up again several times in quick succession, trying to make the perfect hallucination go away. But it was there. It was real. He was real.

Hannah slowly got to her feet, brushing off the excess sand that stuck to her arms and legs and back, stretching to her toes to stand level with the man in front of her. She expected him to say something, but he just stared back at her, the smile slipping off his face slowly.

“Are you here? Is it real?” she finally whispered after several long silent moments, her throat aching painfully, like she hadn’t spoken anything in a year.

Evan nodded, and he gave a half-smile now, sweet and genuine. “I’m here,” he said softly.

Hannah stepped forward, reaching her hands out to brush against the hem of Evan’s jacket, her fingers trembling with the contact. “Prove it,” she whispered.

“Just look at me,” he whispered back. Evan then moved forward slowly, wrapping his arm around her back. Hannah gasped a little and fell back into his arms, giving her weight to him. She just knew that he would catch her. Evan used one hand to tip her chin upward and make her meet his eyes. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Their breath mingled together in the short little space between their mouths. Hannah wanted nothing more than to move forward and crash their lips together into a kiss that would never end. But she still wasn’t sure this was real. She dragged her hand over the jagged edge of his jawline and found some scars she didn’t recognize.

“Are you okay? Did it—did it go all right?” she whispered, hurriedly looking around to make sure there were no suspicious figures watching them from the beach.

Evan smiled again, but it was softer, more private, like it had a meaning that Hannah didn’t understand yet. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Did you—all of them? All of…his guys?” Hannah asked in as low a voice as possible, hoping the rush of the ocean’s waves would cover her voice to any bystanders’ ears.

Evan nodded slowly and slipped his fingers gently through her damp hair. “Yeah, baby. Yeah.”

A thousand questions popped up into Hannah’s head all at once. How many did he kill? How hard was it? Was everybody gone, or did he leave survivors to spread the word? Was he injured? Why didn’t he come faster? And above all else: Are we safe? Hannah wanted to ask. Are we safe? Are we safe? And am I still your baby, really? Am I yours?

“We should—we should get inside, get to my apartment. It’s too dangerous out here, it’s too—” Hannah tore herself out of Evan’s arms and reached down for Alex’s hand and to scoop up his beach toys with her other hand.

“It’s okay, we can talk, we can sit on the beach,” Evan argued, leaning over Hannah’s arm to smile down at Alex.

“No, no, we need to get…” Hannah trailed off, putting all of her energy in moving her feet as quickly across the thick sand as possible before somebody on the beach noticed them.

Evan reached for her shoulder and pulled her until she came to a stop. “Wait, just hold on,” Evan told her, pulling at her shoulder until she turned back around to face him and the ocean.

“Just, stop. Let me talk to you,” he whispered, rubbing the side of her hair gently.

“I would really feel a lot more comfortable if we talked inside, okay?” Hannah hissed under her breath, gesturing to the open space around them.

Evan frowned a little, but then he nodded a second later. “Okay, but let’s walk, not run, all right? I promise you that everything is fine.”

Hannah just shook her head, feeling beads of sweat travel down from her neckline. “Walk quickly, okay? I only live a minute away from here, so we can get inside fast.”

She quickly scaled the rest of the beach, scooping up Alex, jumping up onto the sidewalk and power-walking as briskly as she could without attracting unwanted attention. At some point Evan grabbed onto her hand, probably trying to slow down her pace, but Hannah just dragged him along, carrying both of the boys forward to her apartment and practically knocking down the door in her hurry to get inside.

Hannah placed Alex down on the couch and turned to the door to lock it up and push the several latches into place so that anybody trying to break in would have to make tons of noise, giving them an opportunity to get away if necessary. “All right,” she said as she turned back to Evan, panting a little from the rapidity of her walk back home. She realized now that she had no idea what to say. How do you break the ice after almost a full year apart? “How…how are you?” she asked, her voice shaky and stuttering.

“I’m amazing,” Evan said with a smile, stepping forward to encase Hannah in his arms, pulling her tight against him. Hannah still felt a little awkward and stiff, some paranoid voice in her head still insisting that this was a trick, that he’d been sent by Salvatore’s men to make her let her guard down. She’d never completely rested in over a year now, constantly waiting for a sign from one of Salvatore’s old guards or business associates with a bone to pick. And now, with Evan showing up out of nowhere, she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d found her. And did he bring anyone else with him?

“How long have you been in Belize?” she asked Evan, looking up into his glassy dark eyes.

“Exactly long enough,” Evan murmured, leaning in to kiss her on the top of the head. Hannah felt tingles shiver down her body starting from the skin his lips touched, all the way down to her toes. She wanted so badly just to melt into him, just to trust that everything had worked out perfectly, but her mind resisted with all of its considerable might, pushing back against the idea that they could possibly be safe.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I got to—” Hannah cut herself off, extricating her body from Evan’s arms. The frown on Evan’s face sent a shot of pain straight to Hannah’s stomach, but she did her best to ignore it and walk off to the kitchen area, putting space between their bodies. She just didn’t trust herself enough around him yet to let her guard down. “I’m going to make myself a drink. You want one?”

“Sure,” Evan replied. “That’ll be my first one in a long time. A real long time.”

“You a lightweight?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious as she poured out shots of vodka into paper cups. She felt like she knew Evan so well, knew all of the dark crevices of his soul, but there were so many little details about him that she never had the opportunity to learn.

“I might be now,” Evan said, following her over to the kitchen to watch her make the drinks. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you? If I get sick?”

His voice was teasing, but the words hit Hannah hard. “I—I—” She cut herself off, tearing her eyes off of Evan to refocus on the floor, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment and shyness. “Of course I would,” she finally answered honestly, but her voice dropped down to a whisper. She had never felt this nervous around Evan, or around any man for that matter. But her hands were shaking and her blood was rushing, and she could no longer tell if she was scared of hypothetical hitmen preparing to burst through the front door or if she was more terrified of the flesh-and-blood man in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” Evan whispered.

“N-nothing,” Hannah stuttered in response, handing over Evan’s cup. “Drink up.”

Evan did what she said, drinking deep until he gagged a little. Hannah did the same, practically draining her drink despite the bitter taste of the vodka against her tongue.

“I’m nervous that…that someone might have followed you. It’s not that I’m not happy to see you…”

“Really? ‘Cause it kind of seems like you think it’d be better if I never showed up,” Evan said, a little edge of sharpness to his tone.

Hannah cringed at the implication, feeling all of her insides shrivel up in shame. “That’s not true at all,” she said softly. It was like she couldn’t quite access her anger, like it was buried between foot after foot after foot of solid rock that she’d erected to protect herself in the months that had elapsed since she’d last seen Evan.

She saw Evan bite down on his bottom lip, rubbing his forehead as his brows furrowed up. “I’m sorry. That was unfair.”

“Yeah, it was,” Hannah said bluntly, her old capacity to fire back quips at him slowly returning to her. “That’s not the case, not at all. I…I’ve waited for this moment for….well, forever,” she said honestly, the bitterness seeping back out of her voice as quickly as it had arrived.

“Yeah?” Evan prompted her, tearing his eyes away from the floor to meet hers. God, he’s so beautiful, Hannah thought, soaking in all the details of his body from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes. It was like she had mentally reconstructed him. He looked so perfect, so fucking undamaged. It couldn’t be real, could it? Am I still hallucinating? Am I still dreaming? Did I never wake up? Do I even want to?

Hannah downed the rest of her drink and poured out another one, giving herself more this time. “You’re really late, you know,” she said, walking closer to Evan until barely a foot of space separated their bodies.

“Am I?” Evan asked, and his voice was half-serious, half-teasing. Hannah didn’t know which half to focus on.

“Yeah,” she answered, keeping her tone subtle and soft. “You were supposed to be here hours ago.”

“What do you mean?” Evan asked, now obviously confused as he stepped forward, once again narrowing the space between them.

“I, um, I—” Hannah sighed deeply and stared down hard at her feet, wishing she could click her heels together and teleport away from this situation. Why did she feel so vulnerable yet again? Why was she so scared of the man who’d saved her? Had she really acclimated to being alone so quickly? “I, um, I dreamed about you last night. That’s all.”

Evan immediately grinned, his entire face lighting up like the brightest bulb imaginable. “What was it about?” he asked, stepping a little closer still to Hannah’s body.

“I, uh, I…” Hannah trailed off, feeling her heart pound in her ears, as if she was about to spill a scandalous secret that should have never been spoken. “I, um, I have to check on Alex,” she quickly said as an excuse, moving away from Evan yet again as she walked back around to the couch with her drink, seeing Alex passed out on the cushions, tired from the beach.

“Angel,” Evan said softly behind her after following her back into the living area. “Him, I mean,” he said as soon as Hannah sent him a questioning look. “He’s the sweetest kid. I can’t believe he’s walking now.”

“Do you want to—do you want to take him to bed?” Hannah asked softly, a little afraid that Evan was going to reject her. But instead he nodded and smiled softly, reaching forward to take the sleeping Alex into his arms. “I’ll show you where the bedroom is,” she said as she began to walk back to this room.

Hannah watched as Evan tucked Alex into his covers, stroking his cheek lightly as he pulled the blanket up to his chin, humming a little as he leaned back just to watch him sleep. “Beautiful,” Evan whispered, and Hannah smiled widely to herself. She knew he meant to say it so that she couldn’t hear, just a private observation between Evan and Alex. And that made it mean so much more to her—that he loved her child so deeply.

Her eyes prickled a little, tears threatening to make their presence known. Hannah quickly dabbed at her eyes, making the moisture disappear before Evan could notice. She had cried more in front of Evan than she had in all the time that she hadn’t known him. It was annoying, how easy he seemed to find it to push her buttons and turn her into an emotional mess. But she couldn’t deny: he still had that power over her.

Evan finally got up and gestured back out the bedroom door. Once again Hannah checked to make sure the sound monitors were all connected and functioning before leaving the room, leaving the door cracked behind her as they walked back out into the living room.

Hannah, still holding onto her drink, slipped past the couches and television and went back into the kitchen, right across from the vodka bottle in case she needed more later. She leaned against the counters, stretching out her body so that it looked long and lithe.

“Whatcha want to do now?” she asked Evan teasingly as she took another deep sip of her drink. Her tone had immediately changed, her body buzzing with a need that she couldn’t exactly identify. It took her a second to put her finger on it, until Evan looked at her up and down, clearly surveying all the easily missed details of her body while he had the chance. She realized what it was, then. I wouldn’t mind getting fucked until I scream, she thought. Until all my thoughts go away and it’s just warm blank static wrapped around my whole body.

“I want to hear more about you,” Evan said, surprising her. She had half-expected him to immediately launch himself onto her body, dig into every inch with his nails until sinking inside with his cock. But no, instead he just leaned against the counter opposite her, staring her directly in the eyes, almost unnervingly deeply. “What have you been doing?”

Hannah crossed her arms across her chest, trying to protect herself a little bit from his piercing gaze. “You know. Working. Got a job doing accounts for a business around here. Keeps the lights on.”

“You like it?” Evan asked.

“It’s honest work,” Hannah replied. “That’s all that matters to me, at least for now.” She had spent far too much time in her life doing crime or witnessing crime or having crime done to her. She was sick of it. Anything legal was a welcome relief.

“And Alex? He’s been okay, he’s been developing…” Evan trailed off, like he didn’t know any of the proper terminology for early childhood development.

Hannah nodded and smiled encouragingly, feeling like a kindergarten teacher giving a progress report to a young dad. “Yeah, he’s great. Very healthy. I’ve been able to take him to the doctor and there’s no…there’s no sign that anything went wrong, with Salvatore, you know,” she said, referencing both the time that Salvatore hit Alex and the incident in which he was left out in the cold despite his fever. God, Hannah could still feel anger boil up in her belly like a stew at the mere thought of Salvatore. That fucker had gotten off so easy, relative to everything he’d done. But he was gone. She didn’t have to be afraid of him anymore, and Alex didn’t even have to know his name. All thanks to Evan.

“That’s good,” Evan said softly. He wasn’t smiling. Instead there was an expression of deep contemplation, some silent secret thoughts clearly rocketing through his brain, his entire consciousness lost inside his own mind.

Hannah used the opportunity to finish her own drink and walk over to Evan’s side of the kitchen and examine his. He was doing all right, but he needed a little refill, so she filled up both of their cups to the rim and took her drink back, sipping on it slowly, as her body already felt warm with inebriation.

“And you? Are you healthy?” Evan asked her after a minute, turning to look her in the eyes.

“Boy, is that ever a loaded fucking question,” Hannah said with a laugh, trying to play it off as a joke despite the way her insides clenched up in response to his words.

“Are you?” Evan persisted, his eyes still and unblinking as he stared at her.

Hannah felt the smile leak off her face, in slow little drips until there was nothing left. “I don’t even know what that means,” she said with a sigh. She didn’t have the energy to lie right now, not to him. Not to Evan. What was the point? He’d be able to tell anyway.

“So that’s a no, then,” Evan replied, stepping closer to her but not touching her again. Hannah backed up anyway until her hips hit the kitchen drawers behind her back.

“Listen, I’m fine. I’ve been totally fine. I’ve just been…waiting.”

“For?” Evan prompted her, stepping a little closer until he invaded Hannah’s space a little.

Hannah huffed out a laugh, but it was humorless and bitter. “What do you think?” she asked.

“For me?” Evan suggested, stepping closer and wrapping his hand around her face, causing Hannah to close her eyes again, shutting them against the burning white truth hidden in Evan’s eyes. It was too fucking intense, looking at him like this with nothing in the way, nothing to prevent them from being honest with each other, from being vulnerable. From being open and true.

“Yes,” Hannah whispered, the word burning her like a missile as it left her mouth. “Yes, I’ve been waiting for you. Every day, every fucking—every goddamned hour, I was waiting for you. Hoping to see you show up. Hoping for a postcard or—or—or anything, anything at all. I just needed something, Evan, some sign that you were still here. But instead I’ve just assumed that you were…that you were gone, one way or another. That you’d left the planet or left…left me, left me for some other, better life. All I could do was wait. And now you show up and I’m supposed to just be ready for it? What do you expect from me, Evan? What do you want?”

Evan swallowed, his throat working visibly as Hannah opened her eyes to face him, the desire to be brave always overcoming all else. “I want you,” Evan said, stroking the side of her face. “I want you to be with me. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Is that…is that asking too much?”

Hannah shook her head, unsure of what to say. “Of course not. Of course. No. I just—I just don’t know what I’m able to give you. I feel like I’ve withered away into nothing this past year, with nothing but Alex to keep me afloat.”

Evan took her hand into his, lifting it up to press it against his mouth, applying a sweet open-mouthed kiss to her skin, practically lighting it on fire with pure sensation. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You had to be alone, and it was worse than what I had to do, hard as that was. You had to hold yourself together for your son, all by yourself, waiting on edge the whole time without being able to do anything about it,” he said slowly but confidently.

“Yeah,” Hannah said in response, feeling all of the air leave her body like a balloon deflating as she took his words in.

“What was your dream? From before, the one you obviously don’t want to tell me about?” he asked. Hannah was surprised. Once again he caught her with her shields down, and her face must have betrayed her feelings, as he leaned in again and brushed his thumb along the furrow between her brows. “Just relax. Tell me.”

Hannah blew out her breath all at once. “You were here, or, well, not here, but with me. Alex wasn’t there. I don’t know where he was in the dream.” She sniffled a little and wiped at the side of her mouth in between sentences. “We were just…in a forest somewhere, I guess. And you were there. You popped up out of nowhere and…I’d never dreamed that before, so it was hard for me to tell, you know, it was hard for me to tell that it wasn’t real. Especially because…” Hannah sighed again and trailed off, focusing on her drink for the time being.

“Because?” Evan prompted her, his face wide and curious, like he desperately needed to hear the end of the story.

Hannah shrugged, trying to fake a casual vibe despite the fact that her heart was once again pounding painfully in her chest. “You were dead, I think. That’s all. It was like you came by to tell me you were going, you know, going away for real. For good.” She shrugged again, but she had a sense judging from Evan’s concerned face that it wasn’t a very convincing gesture.

“I’m not dead,” Evan said softly, picking up his drink but not yet taking a sip.

“I know that now,” Hannah said with a short, punctuated laugh. She tipped her cup up to pour half of the vodka down her throat, the sick burn of the liquid grounding her, giving her something to focus on rather than the mental pain of this godforsaken conversation.

There was nothing to be gained here, Hannah felt. It was like Evan was squeezing at her barely-closed wounds, trying to extract more blood from her even though she’d been dripping all year without him. Anger simmered deep in her gut, her stomach acid gurgling with it—although maybe the alcohol she’d guzzled down in the last few minutes had something to do with that. But still. There was some injustice happening here, Hannah was sure of it. She felt like Evan was a ghost, sitting here teasing her and making her spill all of her secret feelings with no real promise that he wasn’t about to disappear yet again.

“Do you?” Evan asked in a barely audible voice. He was still just holding his drink, staring down into it as if he was addressing the alcohol instead of Hannah. “Do you know that now? Because it feels like…like you don’t even know I’m here.”

Hannah groaned a little and slammed her now-empty cup back down on the counter. “What do you expect from me? I’m exhausted, Evan. I don’t have the energy to be happy that you’re back yet. Is that okay? Does that make any sense to you? I’m fucking…I don’t even know if you’re going to be here tomorrow. So what’s the point in letting my guard down if you’re just going to go off again?”

Evan was silent a moment, his thumb skimming over the rim of his cup. “You were mad at me for leaving. You’re still mad at me,” he murmured softly a moment later.

Hannah scoffed a little, but a column of heat started building at the back of her neck, sliding down her back until her entire body felt flushed. “Why would I be mad at you? You did what you had to do.” It was true. Evan didn’t leave her for shits and giggles. There was a job to do, and he went off to do it. It would be ridiculously unfair for Hannah to hold that against him. Wouldn’t it?

Evan nodded a little in agreement, but then he opened his mouth to reply. “You’re fucking pissed at me, and you’re pissed at yourself for being pissed. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Hannah could have sworn her bones started shaking underneath her skin. She didn’t know if she was angry or nervous or something else entirely. “I don’t—that’s stupid, I didn’t—” She cut herself off, sighing deeply and marching back over to the other counter to pour herself more vodka. “That’s dumb,” she said, but it wasn’t very convincing, not even to herself.

“You were alone for a whole year,” Evan said. “It makes sense that you’d be—”

Hannah cut him off then, interrupting him even though his mouth was still hanging open. “No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been alone my whole goddamned life. What’s the difference, adding one more year to the list?”

“Exactly,” Evan said. “So you tell yourself it shouldn’t bother you, because you’re so used to it. But it does bother you, doesn’t it, baby?” His voice dropped on the last word, becoming impossibly softer, almost fragile sounding. Hannah swallowed hard around another mouthful of liquor, needing something else to focus on other than the gorgeous breathless way Evan was talking to her. It was making her knees shaky, her legs going weak and wobbly. Don’t be a little schoolgirl. Be tough. Be strong, she coached herself, but the inner voice that usually bossed Hannah around sounded weaker, smaller now.

Evan continued while Hannah sipped on her drink. “You’re so used to being by yourself, taking care of yourself and Alex. You don’t want to depend on anybody.”

“I don’t depend on anybody,” Hannah retorted, feeling weirdly defensive and on edge.

“But isn’t it tempting?” Evan said. “Wouldn’t it feel so fucking good, to just sink back and let someone take care of you, for once?” He put his drink down on the counter behind him and crossed the space in between their bodies, leaving an inch between his mouth and Hannah’s.

“How did you get so smart?” Hannah said with a humorless laugh, ducking her head to avoid Evan’s piercing gaze. She felt exposed, completely naked to Evan’s eyes, and not in a fun way.

“Lot of time spent thinking in between hits,” Evan said. “Lot of time thinking about you,” he replied.

Hannah felt her breathing start to get more rapid, and her chest was rising and falling so quickly that Evan could probably tell. There’s no hiding from him, she thought. He knows me. He knows my deepest fears and my most shameful desires. And he…he accepts it? Hannah furrowed her brow, her entire brain flexing in an attempt to disentangle her thoughts and feelings. But Evan distracted her yet again, stepping even closer, until their chests touched. Hannah felt like she could detect Evan’s heartbeat even through the fabric of his shirt. It’s going as fast as mine, she thought. He’s as scared as me.

“You need to let me…let me look after you. Let me help you realize it’s real, that I’m not going away. That you can depend on me,” Evan said, taking the drink from Hannah’s hand and placing it down on the counter next to her.

“How…I don’t even know how to do that,” Hannah whispered, her fingers itching to reach out and take her drink back. She needed something to hold onto. She needed something to touch. A second later, without her brain’s permission, one of her hands moved forward and brushed against Evan’s chest, one, two, three times, as light and soft as a feather.

“I’ll help you,” Evan whispered, leaning in to kiss the top of her head again. “You just relax. You just hand things over to me, and I’ll help you get to where you need to go.”

“How do we start?” Hannah asked breathlessly, finally tilting her head up to stare into Evan’s eyes. God, he was still so perfect. So gorgeous. She pressed her hands harder against his chest, wanting to feel those old muscles against her body again.

“How about a massage?”

Hannah must have looked dubious, because Evan’s expression immediately turned to worry. “No, no, I don’t mean…I’m not trying to fuck you, Hannah,” he rushed to say. “I just want to help you relax.”

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at that. It wasn’t like she’d be opposed to it if he wanted to fuck her. In fact, that honestly sounded like the safest option, the action that would most allow her to turn her brain off and stop overthinking everything. But maybe it was the braver thing, the stronger thing to be touched gently, to be vulnerable and soft. Hannah would give it a shot at least.

“Okay, um, I guess I can lie down on the couch,” Hannah said, quickly walking over to the living room and sitting down. “What next?”

“Take your top off,” Evan directed. “It’s not a sex thing, I promise. I just want to be able to get to touch you more. Bra off, too.”

Hannah blushed but nodded. “I’m gonna just, um, face this way,” Hannah said, turning to face the opposite side of the room so that her back was to Evan. She quickly slipped her cover-up and bathing suit top off, hunching over with her arms crossed to make sure her breasts were covered despite the fact that Evan was on the entirely opposite side of her body.

“Now lay down,” he directed her, and she did as she was told, pressing her face into the throw pillow on top of the couch cushions.

She heard Evan sigh then, long and low and deep. “So exquisite,” he whispered, as if he were admiring a work of art. Hannah felt tingles run down her spine, traveling out to her arms and legs, making all of her tiny little hairs stand up, like they were just begging to be touched and petted and rubbed.

A second later she yelped a little as Evan sat down on top of her, straddling her lower back and ass with his legs. He breathed deeply before placing his hands at the base of her neck, digging his fingers gently into her skin.

“You don’t know how to relax,” Evan said softly before moving his hands to her shoulders and massaging them in slow, deliberate circles. “It’s okay,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper as he slid his lips along her neck, causing goosebumps to pop up all at once. “It makes sense. You’ve never had the chance to be happy before, so you don’t know how to do it. But I can help you.”

“How do you know?” Hannah whispered, doubt clogging up her chest despite the warmth that she felt at Evan’s words, not to mention the feeling of his breath hitting the back of her neck.

“I know you,” Evan whispered, licking the back of her earlobe, causing her to cry out embarrassingly loudly and smack her palm over her mouth to keep from moaning any louder. “I know what you can do. You’re strong enough to do this.”

“What? To do nothing?” she asked, laughing at the end of her sarcastic question.

But Evan answered her by rolling his fingers deep into the concaves around her collarbone and pressing down until she moaned again. “Yes. I’m serious. What could possibly be harder for you, what could you have less practice at than just…relaxing?” He skimmed his teeth along the skin of Hannah’s neck, teasing it before tending to it with his tongue. “What could be more difficult for you than just trusting me to take care of you? I know, baby. It’s hard. But just give me a chance. I’ll make it worth it.”

Hannah exhaled heavily, trying to get all of her muscles to turn to goo under Evan’s hands. It didn’t exactly work like that. No matter how hard she flexed her fingers and toes and other muscles, she couldn’t get the tension to leave her body. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Evan was saying behind her, and she exhaled deeply, trying as hard as she could to believe his words.

Evan dragged his nails down her bare back, smoothing over her shoulder blades and following her spinal cord down to the dimples above her clothed bottom. Hannah moaned out softly as he dug his fingers into the base of her spinal column, massaging the outline of her tailbone with the perfect amount of pressure. Next, he pressed the bases of his palms into her back, dragging them up and down her sides until she unclenched her core. “Jesus,” she mumbled under her breath, practically drooling all over the pillow under her head. “Where’d you learn to do this?”

“Took time,” Evan whispered, leaning over her torso again to drag his tongue along her hairline, causing her to cry out embarrassingly sharply and loudly. “Everything takes time. Everything that’s worth it.”

The implication of his words was not lost on her. He was telling her the wait was worth it. They were together now. They’d paid their dues. Maybe he’s right, Hannah let herself think, her inner voice tentative and hesitant. Maybe the universe has seen our hard work and will give us a chance. Maybe the bad times are over. Maybe now I can just relax. Maybe I can be weak.

In the past, Hannah would have considered those thoughts practically blasphemous, as they went against everything she’d taught herself in order to stay alive in a world that was cold and uncaring and cruel. But with Evan’s fingers on her back, digging into her muscles until all of the tension just melted away, she couldn’t fight it anymore. It was too strong, the urge to believe him. She couldn’t do anything but breathe in deep and let hope inside of her.

A few minutes of slow, methodical rubbing later, Evan’s hands traveled back down to her ass, playing with the hem of her bathing suit bottom. Hannah smiled, feeling the area between her legs get a little warm as he stuck his fingers into the back of her bathing suit.

“I thought you said this wasn’t a sex thing,” Hannah said teasingly, unbending her spine again to press her back further into Evan’s touch.

“It’s not,” Evan whispered, wrapping his legs around Hannah’s, letting her ass settle in against his crotch. “Unless you want it to be,” he added before dragging his tongue hotly along the vein in Hannah’s neck.

“Unh!” Hannah cried out, digging her nails into Evan’s thigh and rocking back into his crotch. “Jesus,” she muttered.

“Do you want it to be? Huh, baby?” Evan asked into her ear, his breath hitting all the right spots on her skin. He nibbled a little bit on her earlobe, sucking gently and then harder and harder as Hannah’s breathing changed.

“I think so…” Hannah exhaled heavily, her neck rocking back so that her head lay on Evan’s shoulder.

“I want you to know so, baby,” Evan whispered, lips sliding against the skin immediately behind and under her ear. Hannah squealed a little under her breath, grinding her ass against his crotch just to hold on. “I want you to be desperate for it.”

Hannah moaned a little brokenly and rocked her ass back and forth between Evan’s legs, loving the friction on her own body. “I’m getting there,” she whispered in response.

“Yeah? Let me know when you’ve arrived,” Evan said before biting down on the tip of her ear, pushing his hand around to rake his nails down the front of her body, tickling her bare stomach until she giggled and sighed.

Hannah resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her torso and hide her stomach, which still had leftover fat deposits from her pregnancy even two years later. But she must have become tense anyway despite her lack of motion, as Evan froze and then started tickling her more aggressively a second later, making her stretch her stomach out wider, taking up even more space than before. “I like that,” Evan murmured. “I like feeling that.”

“Are you sure?” Hannah asked, her insecurity clearly audible in her voice, even to herself.

“Beyond sure,” Evan answered, leaning forward to lick the bottom of her neck while his hands stayed on her stomach, dancing along her skin until it flushed pink under his touch. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Hannah sighed in a mixture of relief and disbelief, the weight of her insecurity slinking away and shrinking until she couldn’t detect it in her mind anymore. She rocked her head back harder against Evan’s body, giggling quietly as Evan’s hand came up to stroke over her shoulder and arm.

“You’re amazing. You haven’t—you haven’t changed at all,” she murmured softly. “I thought that I had dreamed you up, you know. That the distance made my heart grow fonder, or whatever, however that saying goes. I thought maybe I just made myself remember things as so good because I could imagine up anything I wanted. But you’re real. It’s real. Oh, oh shit—” Hannah broke off as Evan’s hand traveled in between her legs, petting over her crotch through the fabric of her bathing suit bottom.

“Do I feel real now, baby?” Evan asked. “Huh?” He bit down hard on her ear then, causing her to squeal and squirm against his legs, thrusting back and forth between his body behind her and the empty air in front of her.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, yes,” Hannah groaned, bending her neck to one side to give him more space as he explored the area with his tongue. He dragged his teeth along her most sensitive spots, apparently remembering what to do from just one night together almost a year ago. “God, you’re amazing, you’re amazing, you’re so…goddamn it,” Hannah huffed out as Evan sucked a mouthful of skin in between his teeth, pulling it until she whined like a dog begging for a treat.

“Yeah, you like that,” Evan muttered as he pulled off of her neck with a wet popping noise. “You like being marked up, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I do,” Hannah rushed to say, bending her neck back to lay her head on his shoulder again, wordlessly begging to be sucked and kissed and bitten some more.

Evan immediately complied, dragging his nails along one side of her neck before grabbing it around the center to hold her head in place while he attacked the other side with his mouth, switching between biting and licking and sucking so rapidly that Hannah couldn’t keep up. But she didn’t care. She just turned her entire body over to Evan’s capable hands, which now moved to her bare breasts, cupping them and squeezing them gently with his long, strong fingers.

“Unh, oh!” she cried out as Evan circled his thumbs over her nipples, making them perk up in excitement.

“Somebody’s having fun,” Evan teased her before leaning in again to suck another hickey into her skin, this time on her shoulder. “Mm, you got such nice fucking tits, baby.”

“Thank you,” Hannah whispered back, arching her back to give him better access to the front side of her body. Her knees were starting to ache at being bent for so long, buried in between the couch cushions, but that wasn’t important now, not when Evan’s hand was slipping down south, petting along her lower stomach. Hannah whined a little in impatience, spreading her legs further apart to encourage him to play with the hot little area in between her thighs. But if he heard her, Evan obviously didn’t pay attention, instead focusing entirely on her stomach, rubbing it so sweetly and so gently that Hannah sighed deeply and felt even more stress and tension abandon her body.

A second later, Evan grunted and suddenly flipped Hannah around to face him, leaning over her to kiss the side of her body. “So beautiful,” he murmured and licked his way up from Hannah’s hipbone to her shoulder and then back down again. He nibbled at Hannah’s belly button, sucking gently but firmly enough to leave a purple mark. He dragged his hands down from the hollow between her breasts to her bathing suit bottom, tugging at the hem so that cool air hit the top of Hannah’s vulva.

“Fuck,” Hannah muttered, her head rocking back on the pillow as she thrust her hips forward, wanting more of Evan’s hands and mouth on her skin. But a moment later he pinned her hips down to the couch, and Hannah gasped in response, loving how it felt to have Evan take control over her body. She wanted him to boss her around, tell her what to do, and she would happily comply. There was something so hot about being controlled, probably because she knew she could trust Evan not to hurt her.

“You going to lay back for me, baby? You going to relax and let me do nice stuff to you?” Evan asked before dragging his tongue down from her breasts to her bellybutton.

Hannah nodded furiously, panting so hard her lungs ached. But she didn’t care. She had never felt this excited and this relaxed at the same time before. Evan leaned over again, keeping one hand on her hip as his other one came up to cup her face.

“I love you,” he whispered, and before the words actually hit Hannah he pressed their lips together, soft and sweet.

She half-sobbed into the kiss, opening her mouth to let his tongue in. She couldn’t help it. She had to deepen the kiss and bring her hand up to press against the back of his head so that there was no space between their faces. Hannah untangled her legs and wrapped them around Evan’s waist, tugging the lower half of his body closer as well. “I—I—baby,” she sighed into the kiss, grabbing his chin to encourage him to kiss her deeply.

“It’s okay,” he murmured back, biting a little at her bottom lip. “You don’t have to say it back yet. I already know.”

“You do?” Hannah asked, her heart stuttering in her chest, stuck somewhere between joy and terror.

“Yeah. Yeah, baby, I do,” Evan said, grinning and bopping her nose with his.

Hannah exhaled, and when her breath left her body it was like some parasite living inside of her had died or gone away, that some chains around her wrists and ankles were released. She felt free. She grinned back at Evan and slammed their mouths together harder than before, pressing their lips and tongues together fiercely.

A second later, Evan’s hand traveled back down her body, petting over her clothed cunt, his fingers pushing at the fabric of her bathing suit so that it traveled up inside her hole. Hannah groaned into Evan’s mouth and pulled harder on his hair. “Please,” she moaned out pathetically.

“Please what?” Evan said, pulling back from her mouth, his exhales ghosting over her face. “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“Fingers,” Hannah panted out. Her body just knew what it wanted, without any help from her brain. Her body wanted him, deep inside of her.

Evan immediately grunted and yanked on her bathing suit until it fell down to her ankles, then pressed two of his fingers against her lower lips, spreading them apart and pushing them back together again. Hannah panted hard, sweat collecting under her neck and shoulders as she thrusted her hips forward a little bit, encouraging Evan’s finger to slip down to her hole. “Jesus, yes,” she cried out breathlessly, jerking her hips in little circles as he slipped a fingertip inside of her.

“So wet,” Evan mumbled, bending his head down to lick over her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

Hannah nodded, too lost for air to be able to say anything out loud. She lifted her hips up a little more, encouraging more of his finger inside of her cunt. “Mmmn, mmm, oh,” she said between huge panting breaths as Evan’s other hand began to play with her clit.

“Yeah, so fucking wet and tight around me, baby, fuck,” Evan whispered, his lips ghosting over her neck.

“Oh, yes,” Hannah grunted back, moving her hips up and down in tiny little repetitive circles.

Evan’s finger slipped in deeper, past the first knuckle, while the thumb on his other hand moved in big slow circles over her clit, back and forth, back and forth. “Yes, Jesus, fuck,” Hannah moaned, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. Her eyes fell shut, the sensations between her legs getting too strong, overwhelming all of her other senses.

His fingers started up a faster rhythm, fucking her deeper while pressing down on her clit even harder. “So….fucking wet, Jesus, baby, so fucking hot, shit,” Evan mumbled into her mouth, sucking hard on her bottom lip.

Hannah jerked her hips up, matching the rhythm that Evan had set with his hands. “Fuck me harder, fuck me harder,” she whispered, encouraging Evan’s finger to slide in and out faster.

After a few more minutes of this, Evan added his thumb alongside his finger, spreading her apart wider. She cried out, slowing her hips down to allow his second finger to slide in comfortably.

“Yeah, you’re fucking ready for it. You’re fucking hot for it, aren’t you, baby? My fucking girl,” Evan grunted, shoving his fingers in and out a little harder while his other thumb sped up on her clit, jerking it up and down.

“Yes, yes, I am,” Hannah groaned, flexing her leg muscles around Evan’s waist. “I’m so ready, baby, God. Please, I’ve been wanting this for…ungh, for so long.”

“I’m going to give you what you want, baby. I’m going to give it to you, I promise,” Evan whispered before slipping his tongue back into her mouth, gently caressing her tongue with his even though he fucked her cunt harder and harder with each passing second.

“Please, please, do it, do it, I’m ready, I can do it,” Hannah grunted out, throwing her head back hard as Evan bit down on her neck again.

“Can you handle it? Are you sure? Are you ready?” he asked as he licked his way up and down her neck.

“I don’t—I don’t…” Hannah trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Hey. You are. You’re ready. You’re safe. You’re strong,” Evan whispered, stroking the side of Hannah’s face before leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Aren’t you?”

Hannah felt herself nodding slowly, her body acting on its own while her brain struggled with the question. Was she ready—ready to be united with Evan again? To risk losing him?

Her eyes met his, and then she knew the answer.

“Yesssss,” Hannah hissed before crashing her mouth back into Evan’s, tasting him as deeply as she could. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I’m ready, I’m ready for it, I can do it, I can fucking do it,” she rambled, struggling to unbutton Evan’s pants and shove them to the floor. Evan bent over to retrieve a condom from his pants. With one hand, he yanked his shirt over his head and threw it away, while with the other hand he gripped the condom and quickly sheathed his cock.

A second later he aligned their genitals together, pushing the tip of his cock a single millimeter inside of her hole. Hannah panted desperately for breath at the sensation, wanting him to sink deep inside of her.

“Do you believe me now?” Evan said as he shoved inside of her a moment later, as deep as he could go. It almost hurt, that stretch, like pain and pleasure were sharing a spot in her brain, but she shoved back as hard as she could, wanting his cock to brush up against all the secret sensitive spots inside of her. “Do you believe me?”

It was almost too scary to consider, let alone accept as gospel. Were they really safe? Were they really done fighting tooth and nail to survive? That meant that everything was different. She wasn’t just surviving anymore; she was living now. Her life meant something. It had weight and heft and meaning, and now it meant so much more if she fucked it up, because it had so much goddamned potential. Could she be trusted with a gift like that?

But she didn’t have a choice. The full reality of the situation descended upon her all at once as he shoved his penis in and out of her cunt. He was here. He had finished his mission. It was over. It was all over. Now, life had begun. Their life together as two broken people pretending to be whole. That was its own challenge, equally terrifying as the last, but there was no running from this. No hiding from the responsibility of being in love.

Evan shocked her out of her reverie by pressing one hand down on her clit, bouncing on it and forcing it up and down and back and forth while his cock pressed in as hard as it could against her inner walls. “Shiiiiiiit!” Hannah cried out, spreading her legs apart wider to let him in even deeper as he attacked her lips with his teeth.

“Do you believe me now, baby? Do you believe me now?” Evan repeated himself, pressing down harder on her clit while slapping his hips faster against hers.

“Yes, yes, oh, yes, fuck, yes!” Hannah cried out, practically screaming.

She shoved her hips up hard with a guttural grunt, bouncing back and forth between his cock and the sweat-soaked couch under her ass. She wanted him in deeper and harder, grinding up against all her special spots faster and more firmly as each second passed and she got wetter and wetter under his touch, his thumb pressing down harder onto her clit. This feeling would never end. It stretched on forward forever like the Christmas tree forest from her dreams, but this time she didn’t feel trapped. She felt safe. She felt reassured, like no matter what she could return to this memory, this beautiful moment that would never abandon her, no matter what happened in the future. She felt her cunt clench tight around his cock, causing him to grunt out loudly and shove inside a little deeper. “Sorry, sorry, was that too much? Too much?” he asked in a rush.

Hannah shook her head and swallowed hard, her mouth going as dry as a field full of cacti. “No, not enough. Not enough, please. Please, baby. Give me more. Give it to me. Please!” She grew more hysterical, more desperate as his cock slipped inside deeper and deeper, stretching her hole in every direction.

“So fucking tight,” Evan grunted, shoving his cock fully in and out.

“As good as you remember?” Hannah asked, trying to laugh for levity but struggling to achieve even a slight giggle with the insufficient amount of air in her lungs at the moment. She didn’t have the time, energy, or basic capacity to lie about her insecurity right now. She was so totally bare, so totally raw and open and innocent of all pretenses. He saw her for her, wounds and all. And she didn’t regret it. She was afraid, but she was happy to do it, committing to her fear rather than running away from it.

“Better,” Evan replied, leaning over to bite the side of her neck hard. “The real thing is so much better. Fuck!”

Evan reached over with his free hand to grab Hannah’s leg and hike it up higher, giving him a new angle to penetrate her cunt deeper. “Unngh, yes!” Hannah cried out. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck my cunt, please!”

He went in harder, shoving his entire body back and forth on top of her, panting so hard that Hannah was a little afraid he was going to pass out. But he kept going, faster and faster each minute as he pushed in and out, in and out, hitting all these spots that Hannah had never known before.

“I might not…I might not last much longer,” Evan warned as he pushed and pulled his hips back and forth faster and harder, chasing after his orgasm.

All of a sudden a powerful desire gripped at Hannah’s heart, squeezing it hard until she stopped thrusting and pushed against Evan’s chest.

“Get up, get up, get off,” Hannah said, lightly slapping the side of Evan’s body to get him to stop moving.

He came to a stop, his cock still gripped tightly by her cunt. “Is something—is something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, no, no,” Hannah rushed to say, sitting up to push Evan off of her. “I just need…I just…” She trailed off, lost for words as she rearranged their bodies on the couch, straddling Evan’s lap before sinking back down on his cock. This time she’d be in control. “I just need this…Jesus, yes,” she murmured.

“Yeah, baby, baby, do it, yeah, do it,” Evan grunted up at her, grabbing at Hannah’s neck to pull her forward into a deep kiss.

Hannah began thrusting down hard, bouncing up and down to push his cock in and out of her pussy. “Play with—play with me, please,” she demanded, leaning in to kiss Evan’s sweet neck.

He pushed one hand between their bodies, going to her clit and pushing it gently up and down, to the pattern set by Hannah’s hips. She moved slowly, not wanting to trigger Evan too quickly. “I’ve wanted this…for so long,” Evan grunted out, grabbing Hannah’s ass with his free hand. “So fucking long.”

“You hungry for me?” Hannah asked, feeling a little devious as she grinned down at his desperate expression.

Evan growled a little and shoved his hips up, pushing his cock deeper inside her cunt. “So fucking hard for you, baby,” he mumbled.

Hannah laughed and moved her hips a little faster, going in huge circles around Evan’s cock. “I…fucking…love it,” she whispered back, pressing herself forward into Evan’s hand to get more stimulation for her clit.

Her cunt felt so hot, bubbling with this energy that she hadn’t felt in so long. She had to go faster, bouncing up and down harder, his cock pushing up inside her deepest inner corner. “So good, so fucking good,” she moaned, rocking her head forward to hide her face in Evan’s neck, licking and nibbling along his skin. She needed something to muffle the pathetic desperate moans that threatened to leave her mouth, and Evan just tasted so fucking good, so delicious. He tasted like the Last Supper must have tasted, spicy and filling at once.

Evan started lifting her hips and slamming her back down again with one hand, while his other hand flew over her clit, jerking it up and down, faster than Hannah had ever felt before. Their bodies rocked together mercilessly, knees and calves knocking together unceremoniously while their sweaty foreheads pressed together more gently. They danced together, hips moving in harmony while they trembled and moaned, falling into messy open-mouthed kisses.

“I love you,” Evan said again, shoving his hips up even harder than before. “I fucking love you.”

“Me, too,” Hannah gasped back, bouncing more in his lap to get his cock in deeper. “Me, too. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I can’t say it yet.”

“You’ll get there. You’ll get there,” he replied, breaking off into a long, whining moan. “I’m going to come, baby, I’m going to fucking come,” he warned, shoving in harder and deeper as his moans became more and more incomprehensible.

“Do it, you deserve it, do it,” Hannah encouraged him, riding him as hard as she could until she felt him twitch and tremble beneath her, pulsing inside the condom.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan mumbled, pressing his forehead hard against hers, his entire body deflating into the pillows and cushions. “God…that was the best…that was the best I’ve ever had.”

Hannah grinned, pecking Evan on the lips lightly before lifting her body off of his. Evan gasped a little as he fell out of Hannah’s hole, and she leaned in again to kiss him on the head. “Beautiful boy,” she whispered before walking off to the bathroom to pee and clean up.

Staring at herself in the mirror, Hannah couldn’t help but grin at the way her eyes shone and her cheeks glowed with color. She looked beautiful. Happiness looked good on her.

When she walked back out to the couch, she was surprised to see Evan standing up, stretching down to his toes. “What are you doing up?” Hannah asked, a little disappointed. She had hoped that they could cuddle.

“Getting ready for part two,” he said with a shrug as he bent his elbows behind his back.

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked, smiling a little nervously.

“You didn’t come,” Evan explained. “You deserve it, too.” He walked back over to the couch to meet her, grabbing her waist and pressing their bodies together closely.

Hannah sighed and melted in his arms again, pressing their mouths together lightly. “Baby,” she whispered. “So sweet to me.”

“Lay down,” Evan directed her, spreading her out on the couch again with her legs spread open for him. He climbed up her body, licking along her legs until he got to her naked, dripping cunt. “So wet for me still,” he said with a light laugh, dragging his tongue up one of her lips.

“Just for you,” Hannah said, exhaling deeply as Evan parted her lips with his tongue, rubbing up against all the red, sensitive parts of her vulva.

Evan dragged his teeth along her outer lips, stimulating all the bare areas around her clitoral hood. A moment later he dipped two of his fingertips inside her wet hole, flexing them back and forth a little while his tongue finally found her clit, pushing it up and down while his fingers pumped in and out.

“Oh, so good, so fucking good,” Hannah grunted, shifting her hips up to encourage more of his tongue and teeth on her.

“Yeah, baby, yeah, relax for me,” Evan mumbled into her cunt, giving her clit thick wide licks while his fingers dipped deeper into her hole.

Hannah felt herself coming undone, heat building from the intersection of her thighs up to her chest, down to her toes. She felt warm all over, the slick wetness between her legs helping Evan slide in and out more rapidly. “Do it to me, do it to me, please,” Hannah moaned, spreading her legs apart wider.

Evan sucked one of her labia into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth while he sunk his fingers in so deeply that Hannah howled and thrusted her hips up into the air. “Oh, baby, ungh, yes!” Hannah moaned, sweat trickling down from her armpits and under her knees. A great big ball of light was burning its way between her legs, getting larger and larger with every flick of Evan’s tongue.

Evan added another finger to her hole, stretching her out wider, creating a delicious burn that licked its way up and down her entire vulva. She thrusted her hips up hard, bouncing back and forth again until the couch squeaked with their efforts. “Deeper, baby, deeper, give it to me, I can take it, unhh, yes,” she grunted out.

He laughed at her in between long licks from the top of her cunt to her hole, sticking his tongue in between his fingers. “Yeah, you got it, baby, you can take it like a good girl, like a strong girl,” he responded, shoving his fingers in deeper.

Hannah moaned out again, thrusting up into his touch. But at the same time, there was some small part of her that was holding back, hiding somewhere in a dark corner of her brain. This feeling, this huge thing that had only happened on one occasion and had left her when Evan did, could betray her again. Even though this would be only the second time in her life that she had felt this wonderful feeling, it could also be the last. There were no guarantees otherwise. But she wanted it, still, she wanted to feel herself explode, she wanted to feel herself shatter into a thousand tiny little beautiful pieces. She wanted to feel empty. She wanted to feel whole. She wanted to blow herself up and put herself back together, all with the aid of Evan’s beautiful hands.

“You can do it, you’re so strong, so fucking strong, baby,” Evan said in between long, hard licks of her clit. “You got this. You fucking got this.”

“I do?” she asked between ragged breaths.

“Yes. You can do this. I believe in you,” he said before sucking her clit hard into his mouth.

And in that moment, Hannah believed him. Not just about her own strength, her own ability to contain the terrifying beauty of orgasms, but also about how safe she was, how safe they both were. They were together, she realized as she felt huge sparks of brilliant flame burn their way up and down her back, spiraling into all of her shaking cells. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, digging her fingers hard into Evan’s shoulders to anchor herself as her cunt overflowed with wonderful sensations that just grew and grew and grew until they burst, showering her with endorphins from the tip of her head to the bottom of her feet. “Ahhh! Ohhh!” Hannah screamed joyously, reaching down desperately for Evan’s hands to pull him back up her body, pressing their heads together.

“God, you’re beautiful, you’re amazing,” Evan murmured into her neck, giving her gentle kisses, one after another after another. He pressed sweet kisses to her jawline, tracing both of her cheeks and going up to her ears before lightly nibbling on the back of her neck again.

“No…no…you,” she mumbled back, dragging her fingers through Evan’s hair.

Evan pulled back to stare into Hannah’s eyes, rubbing the sides of her face with his palms. “I fought for you, woman,” he said, a little teasingly, but Hannah knew that there was so much truth in that statement.

“I know. But no more,” Hannah whispered back. “No more fighting. Just living now.” Their eyes met, holding still as they stared into each other’s darkness, loving what they saw hiding within.

“I want to go outside with you,” Evan said after a short pause. He pressed the back of Hannah’s hand against his mouth in a sweet kiss, going along to peck each of her fingers.

“Onto the beach? But Alex—” Hannah protested.

“We’ll just go out for a minute, into the backyard. We’ll hear him if he needs us,” Evan replied, getting to his feet and offering his hand to Hannah. She accepted it and led the way out to the backyard, grabbing a sound monitor on her way to make sure she would hear if there were any problems with Alex.

They stepped out into the sand, totally naked together, leaving footprints behind them as they approached the ocean, staring out at the light cast onto the dark water by the moon.

“This is our life now, right? This is ours?” Hannah whispered as Evan leaned in to kiss her lips.

Evan nodded as he pulled back from her mouth. “Yes. It’s ours. And Alex’s. It’s all of ours.”

We’re a family, Hannah thought. The three of us now. We’re together.

“For how long?” Hannah couldn’t help but ask, nervousness slipping into her voice.

“For as long as we want it,” Evan replied, kissing the top of her forehead and skimming his nails over the sides of her neck, causing her to shiver even in her post-orgasm haze.

“It’s going to take me some time,” Hannah said, sighing in relief as Evan brushed his hand over her hair, making all of her brain cells tingle in pleasure. “Is that okay? If it takes me a while to…to get used to it?”

“A life without fighting?” Evan suggested, and Hannah nodded.

How can I live if I’m not fighting to survive? If I’m not looking for the next disaster? What kind of person will I be? Hannah wondered, staring up at Evan as if he had all the answers.

“Is that okay?” Hannah repeated herself, leaning up to bury her face in Evan’s neck.

“More than okay,” he replied. “I’m going to love watching you accept it, you know, little by little. Learning that you’re safe with me. I can’t wait, baby. I can’t wait.”

“I can’t wait, either,” Hannah whispered, pressing kisses against Evan’s neck. “To see the type of people we’re going to become.”

“As cliché as it is…” Evan said with a deep sigh, but it wasn’t a sad one. It wasn’t even tired. It was hopeful. It was content, something Hannah never thought she’d hear out of Evan. “Tomorrow is a brand new day.”

A new day, Hannah thought. All of them would get a chance to move on, finally, to become people who weren’t defined by the wars they had to fight, by the scars they had to take. For once, they were going to grow rather than shrink. They were going to reach out and grab the New Year by the neck, riding along as best as they could. They had that chance now, to start anew.

THE END

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DEFILED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Wicked Bones MC)

By April Lust

I’M GOING TO DEFILE THAT PRETTY LITTLE FACE.

She hired me to protect her.

But I’m going to ruin her instead.

Bare naked and dripping wet – that’s the only way for a girl like her to be.

And when she’s tied up in front of me, I just can’t help but dive in.

She thought she had problems before I arrived.

But some pervy little stalker is nothing compared to a man like me.

Unlike him, I’m not content to just creep in the shadows and watch her.

I need to touch.

To taste.

To take total f*cking control.

And I’m not going to rest until I have it.

Correction: until I have her.

We can play this game of pretend for a little bit.

She pretends not to want me.

I’ll pretend to keep my head down and do my job.

But we both know the truth:

As soon as the lights go down,

I’m coming to take what’s mine.

Mind, body, soul – she belongs to me now.

And I’m gonna find her breaking point.

Chapter One

Katia

I yawned as I slid into the executive leather chair behind my new Parnian desk. My MacBook Air was opened, my emails were loading, and the scent of vanilla-caramel cappuccino wafted enticingly through the air. Closing my eyes, I put my hand out on the keyboard and listened.

My lips curled into a smile as I heard exactly what I’d been waiting for. Nothing. That perfect silence was the most beautiful thing I could ever imagine.

It was moments like this that convinced me everything had been worth it. All of the pageants, the posturing, and the endless dieting and starving to become the ideal, skinny, smiling doll had been worth it.

Because now I was alone. Now I was living in a perfect, tastefully furnished condo that I’d paid for in cash. I was twenty-seven and living the life that most people don’t ever get to experience, or at least not until their retirement.

Being a former beauty queen definitely had its perks, all right. Sure, I still had to make sure never to eat more than a thousand calories per day, five hundred if I was doing something public within the next week. But overall, I was proud of my success. I’d basically come from nothing, and I’d worked my way up, beauty pageant after beauty pageant. I guess a lot of people think that once you win Miss Homegrown Junior Dallas, you’re off to a world of success. God, if they only knew the truth.

Reaching for my cappuccino, I blew on the milky steam floating on top of the espresso. Until my assistant, Anya, had told me that it was sugar-free, I never would have guessed. Taking a small sip, I let the delicious caffeine flood over my tongue and seep into my cells.

“What do we have here?” I drawled quietly as I looked at the screen and set the mug down on a little coaster I’d picked up in London. It was antique green glass, with little threads of gold running through the material. Of all my successes, I was the proudest of my home. I’d decorated the whole thing from top to bottom, and I’d picked out each and every piece myself. No stylist could claim this, I thought smugly as I looked around the room. Every inch was perfectly designed by Ms. Katia Reynolds.

My MacBook pinged, alerting me that I had mail. I groaned when I saw the little red number in the corner of my screen. Fifty-one unread emails, and that was all in the past three hours!

I began to skim through. There wasn’t a lot to read, really. Mostly advertisements from my favorite stores – Sephora, Bloomingdales, Barney’s New York. Lots of sales. After a few moments, I started wondering whether or not I should go shopping later in the day. It had been ages since I’d bought anything nice or new for myself – about two weeks.

After going through the ads, I frowned. There was an email with an attachment from an address I didn’t recognize. By itself, this wasn’t particularly unusual. After all, I gave out cards to people I met containing my email address, just in case they wanted to hire me or book me for a gig. It hadn’t happened in a while, since I’d taken a little break from working, but I was interested all the same.

The email address didn’t have a name as it was one of those anonymous ones with all letters and numbers in front of the stamp. I rolled my eyes. A Gmail address, for a professional inquiry? How amateur.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Eek!” I jumped at the sound of my phone vibrating across the wooden desk. “God,” I mumbled as I reached for my iPhone. “What the hell is wrong with you, girl? Spending too much time inside?” I asked as I swiped my finger across the screen and held the shiny phone up to my ear.

“Hello?”

There was no answer. I frowned. Maybe someone had called me by mistake? Like a butt dial? I tried to rationalize, but there wasn’t any of the accompanying static that I normally heard when I got one of those calls.

“Hello?” I tried again. “Who is this?”

There was no answer. Biting my lip, I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone. Seconds later, the phone rang again.

“Hello?” I asked. Again, there was no answer and no static.

“Look,” I said sharply. “You’re gonna have to say something and introduce yourself, okay? Who is this?”

There was no answer Silence. I pulled the phone away from my ear, put it on speaker, and looked at the screen for the number. When I realized it said “unknown,” I sighed and slammed the phone down on the table.

“This isn’t funny,” I muttered. “I’m hanging up now.”

As I reached for the red “cancel” icon, there was a sound coming from the receiver. It wasn’t static, though; it was heavy, paced. Like someone breathing. With a cry of disgust, I hung up and threw the phone across the room.

God, what a weird morning, I thought as I took another sip of my delicious, sugar-free cappuccino. People are so desperate and weird.

Thinking about the email again reminded me to turn back to my computer. When I did, I saw a few sentences. They read:

“Hey Katia! Just wanted to pass this along, thought you might enjoy. My company is interested in hiring you as our model. This is the preliminary sketch.”

That’s funny, I thought as I scanned the three lines over and over again. There was no signature or company logo on the email. I didn’t remember meeting anyone recently who could have sent this, but it wasn’t totally outside the realm of normality. After all, I was a pretty big name. Not quite celebrity status outside of LA, but still, pretty big.

I licked my lips. Everyone had always told me never to open an attachment from an unknown source. I knew that was how people got hacked and how computer viruses spread. But this MacBook was brand new, so I hadn’t saved any personal photos or data yet. And I couldn’t help it. I was so curious. Especially since I could tell that it was a picture. Maybe it was the product or brand logo, I thought as I clicked on the photo and waited for it to load.

When I saw it, my jaw dropped. My cheeks burned and my eyes began to sting, and I had no control over my reactions. It was like someone had taken over my body and made me mute.

I slammed the lid of my laptop down, trying to forget what I’d just seen. It had been a drawing all right, a poorly drawn image of me. I was reclining on my back, legs spread, with a seductive look on my face.

The delicious coffee taste in my mouth turned to bile as I stared at my desk, suddenly horrified and panicked. Anxiety was flooding my limbs, and my heart was pounding.

Shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

With shaky legs, I got up and walked into the kitchen. I had no idea what my first action should be. Obviously, I had someone who was just a little too interested in Katia Reynolds. Sometimes I had to deal with harassment both in the streets and online, but this just felt too creepy. How could someone like that have gotten my email address?

I knew, right then and there, that I’d have to make a list of who I’d given my contact information to. My heart was still pounding as I opened the double doors to my fridge and took out a single-serve bottle of sparkling wine. As my fingers fumbled with the cap, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d been practicing yoga for years, and my yogini Arielle was always telling me that I had to learn how to relax. “This is probably nothing,” I said out to loud myself t as I inhaled deeply and continued, “this is just a messy situation, and you’re creeped out. But your condo is so secure – no one is going to find a way in. Just take deep breaths and have some wine and everything will be back to normal by the time you open your eyes.”

If only I could have known how bad things were going to get.

Chapter Two

Devin

“Come to fuckin’ order!” Our Sergeant of Arms, Tristan, banged his fist against the broad wooden table emblazoned with our emblem, Wicked Bones. The logo was a skull with flames around his head, holding a scythe. He was grinning. Whenever I saw the emblem, I couldn’t help but grin, too.

Growing the Wicked Bones was so far, the biggest accomplishment of my life to date. I’d grown up in different towns around California. LA was nothing like them. It was a fantasy world. When I started Wicked Bones with a couple of kids I knew from around town, it made my life pretty fuckin’ fantastic. Tristan, Troy, and I had been friends for years. And then they really stepped up to the plate. Tristan was the best Sergeant that I could think of, and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else behind me than Troy. He was hard as nails and had a sharp mind. I may have been the leader of Wicked Bones, but Troy had been the brains of the club from the beginning.

“Y’all!” I yelled, looking out at my men. “Shut the fuck up. We’re here for a meeting, not a damn social hour!”

Troy nodded. He glanced around the room, growling under his breath like an animal. Finally, his gaze came to rest on me. “What’s up, boss?”

I sighed. “Took you long enough,” I shot back. “We’ve got some issues, folks.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my packet of cigarettes. As I lit one, I looked at each and every one of my men. They were good guys. Sometimes they’d stray a little too far from the beaten path, but overall, I knew I could trust them with my life.

“What’s going on?” Troy leaned forward as I tossed the pack of smokes to him. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply. “Something bad?”

I sighed. “I didn’t wanna be the one to bring this up. I was really hoping that I’d have a chance to turn things ‘round before I had to mention it, but yeah, shit ain’t great right now, guys. The decision to cut back on the drugs and gunrunning is really hurting us. Right now, we’ve only got about two thousand in the bank after paying our bills this month, and that don’t count towards anything that might come up.” I paused and ran a hand through my unruly dark hair. “We gotta think of something.”

“What about getting back into guns?” Tristan leaned over the table, his muscular arms bulging. “That was really sweet. Tons of money for not much work.”

I nodded. “I’ve thought about that,” I said. “But the cops are still cracking down hard on all the clubs around here. Shit, the Green Demons lost their leader and sergeant last week. Both are going to the big pen for years, probably five to ten at this point. We can’t take that risk right now.”

Tristan snorted. Another one of the guys, Marlo, leaned close. “Boss, what if we do it real careful, y’know? – Make sure we don’t get caught.” He chuckled deviously, and some of the other guys started snickering along.

“I can’t take that risk,” I said. “We lost our contact over at the LAPD. Officer Beatty’s gone now, and we won’t be able to pull someone close like we did with him for a long-ass time. We gotta start taking care of ourselves, and that means putting the Bones first.”

Troy nodded. “What about close-in work?”

“You mean pushing drugs to those college kids?”

Troy shook his head. “No,” he said patiently. “I mean body-work. Guarding, maybe a little protection.” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re in LA, after all. Aren’t there tons of rich people who need that shit?”

I sighed. “I wasn’t exactly imagining doing this kind of work at my age,” I grunted, “but if you think it’s a good idea.”

Troy stared at me. “Devin, man, you’re the boss. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, we won’t do it. That’s all you had to fuckin’ say, man. Trust me, I won’t fight you on this.”

I mulled it over in my head. Living in LA or LaLa Land as I called it, had its perks. There were always tons of gorgeous babes, kids who wanted to get high, or immigrants looking to buy guns, but sometimes, I felt like I’d had enough of all of it. Sometimes, I thought about what it would feel like if I sold everything I owned and moved into some little cabin up near Oregon, or some shit like that.

I banged my gavel on the table and looked out at all of my men. They were waiting for me to answer with solemn looks on their faces.

“Does anyone else have any ideas?”

I waited in silence for one of the men to speak up. The room was so quiet I could have heard crickets outside, but the only sounds reaching my ears were the sounds of Troy puffing on his cigarette and Tristan stretching in his chair, making his leather chaps creak against the wooden seat.

“No?” I asked, looking around again. “Y’all think getting into body work is a good idea?”

They nodded slowly. One of the new men, Pauly, nodded. “Yeah,” he grunted. “I think it’s a real fuckin’ fine idea. I wish some hot actress would hire me,” Pauly added with a smirk. He closed his eyes and growled. “I’d fuck her so good she wouldn’t even notice if anyone was trying to rob her blind.”

“We gotta do this right,” I said firmly, slamming my fist down on the wooden table. The Wicked Bones symbol stared up at me, emotionless. “We can’t fuck this up. This is the kind of thing that could ruin our reputation if we let it, guys. We can’t let that happen. Not now.”

“So, it’s a go?” Troy looked at me.

I nodded. “It’s a go,” I said. “Y’all better start advertising your services. We’ll get someone to make a website, and we’ll put up cards in all the talent agencies around town. Figure we can each turn a profit on this. We’ll find someone who needs a big lug around to watch his or her back. I wouldn’t even say no to some freelance guard work at this time.” I glanced around the room and stubbed my cigarette out in the skull-shaped ash tray in front of me. “If any of y’all fancy working in a bank, or some shit, I bet that can be arranged.”

Troy grinned. “Actually, boss,” he said with a grin, “I already got someone for you.”

I waited as he slid a manila envelope across the table towards me.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Someone you’re really gonna like. Trust me on this one,” Troy said as he grinned again.

Chapter Three

Katia

My fingers were shaking as I went back into my office and looked around for my phone. I was already feeling a little calmer, not to mention embarrassed about having thrown my new phone at the wall, but deep down, I was still freaking out. I couldn’t believe that some creep had gotten my email address like that! And that I’d actually been stupid enough to open the damn thing!

I grunted as I got down on my hands and knees and began crawling around the room, glancing under pieces of furniture and feeling around for the pink puffy case of my iPhone. Strands of my long, meticulously-waved blonde hair fell in front of my eyes, and I sighed and shoved my hand between the back of the pink sofa and the shag carpeting. Finally, the tips of my fingers made contact with my phone. I let out a squeak of approval, then strained and lunged until I could wrap my fingers around the cursed piece of technology and bring it closer.

I was panting by the time I was done. A sharp feeling of panic washed over me again as I dialed my personal assistant, Anya. Anya had been working for me for a little over two years at this point, and we were almost as close as family. Sure, she didn’t understand a lot of the things I asked her to do, but she was overall really adaptable. I’d been called high maintenance in the past, actually quite a lot, but Anya had always done whatever I asked with a smile. She never talked back, and she never said anything insulting.

Before Anya, I’d had a personal assistant named Jeanine. She’d been a friend of mine when I was still doing the pageant circuit, but Jeanine never made it in the same way I had. When I’d offered her the job, she’d kind of sniffed and turned her nose up in the air, so it wasn’t much of a surprise a few weeks later when she started calling me spoiled. I’d fired her the day I’d been out driving my Land Rover Discovery and had gotten a flat tire.

“Jeanine!” I’d barked sharply into the receiver. “Call some tire place; I need a new tire!”

“Katia, I don’t think anywhere is open right now,” Jeanine had replied in this pointed, nasty voice. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I don’t fucking care what time it is,” I snapped. “I want a fucking tire! Get me a fucking tire, or you’re fired!”

She’d hung up on me. That was actually how I’d gotten the phone I had currently. I’d been so angry at Jeanine that I’d thrown my phone out of the window and watched with satisfaction as it disappeared into the ravine at the side of the highway.

“Anya? Pick up!” I snapped at my phone. It was still ringing. It must have rang over ten times before voicemail cut on. Growling, I punched Anya’s number a second time and held the phone up to my ear.

This time, she answered on the second ring. “Katia! Oh my God,” Anya gushed. “I am so sorry! I was in the bathroom! What’s—”

“I don’t care,” I said sharply. “There’s been an emergency. Some asshole is stalking me!”

There was a pause.

“Anya!” I yelled. “Come on! What the fuck is wrong with you? I said, someone is stalking me!”

“I know,” Anya said. Her voice was quiet, and I could hear her swallow over the phone line. “I know someone’s stalking you.”

She paused as rage welled up in my throat. I wished that I could reach through the line and slap her.

“How the hell do you know that?” I demanded. “And furthermore, if you knew, why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Anya sighed. “Look, Katia, I was hoping I could resolve all of this myself, without having to drag in any outside forces,” she said softly. “Katia, I know it’s scary. I was looking into a bodyguard for you. Someone who could stay with you all the time and make sure you’re safe. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped. “This is the first I’ve fucking heard of this idea! Why didn’t you tell me anything earlier?”

“Calm down,” Anya said. I stared at the phone in shock. I couldn’t believe this little bitch was telling me what to do!

“You have no right to order me around,” I huffed. “Anya, this is a big fucking deal, and you’re so fired as soon as you give me the info on the bodyguard.”

“Katia, please,” Anya said. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you.” She swallowed again. “This – a – whoever is trying to get in touch with you, well, they’re pretty serious about it. I called the police, and they agreed it was best I keep it from you. I’ve been getting letters and calls for about a week now. The police wanted me to hire someone, which is why I looked into the bodyguard idea.”

I flopped down on the pink satin couch, letting my feet fly into the air before settling on the other end.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But really, Anya, you couldn’t have told me? I don’t like being lied to by my assistant,” I added. “This really doesn’t look good.”

“I know, I know,” Anya said quickly. “But I promise, I did it for a reason. And the police say I did the right thing, too. These letters–Katia, they’re really disturbing. They aren’t the kind of thing you can un-see. I just thought, you know, with some of the trouble you have sleeping–well, it probably wouldn’t help. I know Arielle has really been working on getting you to de-stress, and I thought seeing those letters would have just opened up a new can of worms for you.”

I frowned and glanced up at the ceiling. My office was my favorite room in the whole condo. Even though I loved them all, I’d saved the best for this room. The ceiling was molded with ivory and gold swirls, with pink accents in each corner. All of the furniture was either Italian striped silk or pink satin that I’d picked from a custom shop. I’d ordered a couch and matching loveseat in pink, and my office chair was lambskin. My little pug, Oliver, wasn’t even allowed inside. I always worried about his claws scratching the precious fabric.

“So the police said not telling me was a good idea?” I asked after a pause.

They must not know me, I thought grimly as I shifted my position on the satin couch. They’re going to get a fucking earful as soon as I have the chance to call LAPD.

“Yes,” Anya squeaked. “Look, the bodyguard–his name is Devin. He’s the leader of a local MC, and I thin—“

“Wait, stop,” I said. “What the hell is an MC?”

“Motorcycle club,” Anya said. “This guy started Wicked Bones. Have you heard of them?”

“Obviously not,” I snapped. “If I didn’t even know what an MC is, how the fuck would I have heard of his stupid club?” I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, Anya, you must think I’m a fucking idiot sometimes! And a motorcycle club? What the fuck is that? You mean this asshole spends the whole day riding around on a bike with a bunch of other men who never learned to shave or take a shower?”

“Katia, he’s really not like that,” Anya protested. “He’s tough, and he has credentials. The man’s a top-level fighter. He’s even taken MMA and three kinds of Jujitsu.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and so have all the other guys I’ve hired in the past,” I said icily. “Why couldn’t we just call one of them?”

Anya sighed. “Katia, this guy is top dollar. His rate is five hundred an hour. He doesn’t mess around. I know he’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to do this, but I strongly recommend you consider hiring him. At least for a couple of weeks until the police can figure out who the hell is bothering you.”

I licked my lips. “Fine,” I said. “You call him. Set up a meeting.”

“That’s the thing,” Anya said in a small voice. “I can’t. I already did, and he said that he needs to hear it from you.”

I groaned loudly. “I was just about to start my Pilates!”

“I’m sorry, Katia,” Anya gushed. “If you want, I’ll come over and write down everything for you to say, you can put him on speaker, an—”

“It’s fine,” I snapped. “I’ve already made my own coffee. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that I have to pick up my own dry-cleaning!”

After I got off the phone with Anya, I stared at the number that was written down in front of me. I’d used my personal stationary, the gold embossed kind that had cost over a thousand dollars from a private factory in England, and somehow the name ‘Devin Saunders’ just didn’t fit. I licked my lips. He sounded like a tough guy, a real asshole, who’d never been around a woman like me before.

It was all stressing me out too much. I decided to go shopping and call Devin when I got home. Shopping relaxed me in a way that nothing else could, not even a long trip to Red Door Spa with a facial and a hot stone massage.

I didn’t want to call a driver, so instead I took my Camaro out to Rodeo Drive and handed it over to the valet.

I hit Louis Vuitton first and bought six new bags, along with a pair of shoes, and a belt as a present for Anya. I was still angry with her for going behind my back, but I knew that she’d probably been trying to do her best. After all, everyone had his or her incompetent moments sometimes. I just wished she trusted me to be more self-sufficient. The way Anya treated me was like she had to walk on eggshells around me all the time. I just didn’t understand it! The way I saw it, I was a perfectly reasonable and kind boss.

Oh, well. Maybe she’d just worked for assholes before, and this was her own way of covering up after herself.

After Louis Vuitton, I handed my bags to the valet and went into Tory Burch. I wasn’t a huge fan of Tory Burch – too cheap, mostly. But they did have a cute shift dress, and as soon as I tried it on, I knew I had to have it. It was perfectly preppy, lime green with pink trim, and I knew it would look great with these Prada sandals I’d bought the other day. Satisfied, I paid for the dress and walked outside.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans, and I groaned. I didn’t feel like talking to Anya again. I wondered if she’d called that Devin character without even giving me a chance to tell my own damn story!

Maybe I should save that belt for someone else, I thought as I reached for my phone. She needs to learn how to be a good assistant if she’s going to keep working with me!

A wave of anxiety passed over me when I saw that the number was unknown. I growled at my phone. If it was that same creepy asshole from earlier, I was going to chew him out for calling and giving me chills.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Katia Reynolds?”

I relaxed as soon as I heard the voice. The man on the other end was well-spoken and enunciating clearly. Obviously, this was someone used to dealing with women of my status.

“Yes,” I said sweetly. “This is she.”

“Ms. Reynolds, I’m sorry to inform you that the alarm sensor at your home has just been triggered. If you’re inside, please make your way outdoors and tell me as soon as you’re safe. I’ve dispatched the police to your residence, and I want you to check in with them as soon as they arrive.”

“I’m not home,” I said. A weird, faint feeling came over me and I had to steady myself against the brick wall of the Tory store. “I’m out. I’m shopping.”

“Okay, then Ms. Reynolds, I want you to go home and please check in with the LAPD before entering your residence.”

I felt dizzy. My knees buckled and threatened to give way from underneath me. “Okay,” I said in a shaky voice. “Thank you.”

Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside of my building with Anya and an LAPD officer. He was checking me out as all men did, but I barely noticed.

“Ms. Reynolds, do you have someone you could stay with?”

I stared at him. “Are you kidding? You want me to leave my house?” I squinted and leaned forward, pulling my Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of my perfectly-sculpted nose. “I’m not leaving my house, and that’s your problem if you can’t protect me while I’m here. This is my property,” I said haughtily, drawing myself up to my full height. “You’re a cop. Protecting people is what you do. Or what you’re supposed to do,” I sniffed.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to please re-evaluate the situation,” the cop replied. “Is there anyone you can call who can come stay with you?”

“No, who do you think I am?” I snapped. Suddenly, a light bulb went off over my head. “Actually, there is someone,” I added. “A bodyguard. My personal assistant already hired him for me,” I lied. “You want me to call him?”

“Immediately,” the cop said. He rolled his eyes and walked back to the squad car, leaving me in the middle of the road with my shopping bags.

Anya thankfully didn’t say anything about the lie. That’s probably why I keep her around. With a sigh, I reached into my clutch and pulled out the piece of stationary with Devin’s number on it. My handwriting looked foreign, and for a moment, I wondered if I was stuck in the middle of a nightmare. It certainly seemed that way: shopping bags all around my feet with no valet, police trampling through my home, my potential stalker somewhere in the world near me.

As I dialed the number, I tried to focus. Everything is going to be fine, I convinced myself. Just call Devin and get him to come over, and this whole thing will blow over.

Someone answered on the second ring.

“Is this Devin Saunders?”

“Yeah,” a voice grunted. “Who the fuck is this?”

I opened my mouth and was just about to yell at him, but I glanced at the police officer filling out a report and sighed. “This is Katia Reynolds,” I snapped. “Your new client. Didn’t Anya Bellaire tell you about me?”

The man chuckled, and I felt rage bubbling up my throat. “Oh, yeah, the beauty queen,” he said casually. “So, you wanna meet me at Bubbs?”

I squinted. “What the hell? No, I don’t want to meet you at Bubbs,” I snapped. “I don’t even know what that is!”

“It’s a bar, princess,” Devin drawled. “Outside of LA. I don’t like doing my business down here.”

“Too bad,” I snipped. “We’re meeting at Starbucks on La Cienega. By the Strip,” I added helpfully. “In ten minutes.”

I hung up my phone and stuffed it into my new Louis clutch. “I can’t believe his manners,” I grumbled to Anya. “He sounds like he was raised in a barn!” My nostrils flared, and I tossed my blonde hair over my shoulder. “He probably looks like it, too, am I right?”

“I don’t know,” Anya said timidly. She stood in front of me, her small hands twisting at her sides. “I’m sorry, Katia, do you want me to go with you?”

I glared at her. “I should just send you,” I said. “But the cop said he wanted me out of the house unless I had someone with me.” I realized Anya was still staring at me with a stupid look on her face. “What?”

“Um, do you want me to stay? Or…?” Anya trailed off, looking at me expectantly. If I hadn’t been in such a bad mood, I would’ve laughed. She looked pathetic, like a dog waiting for its master to say ‘walk.’

“No,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’ve already proven useless enough for one day. I’m out of here,” I added. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Is this guy going to want to come inside?”

Anya frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is he going to bitch about coming inside the house,” I said, sweeping my arm through the air. “I want him to stay outside,” I added. “That way he can watch the property and make sure no one tries to break in.”

“Um, Katia, I don’t think he’s going to want to do that,” Anya said. She frowned. “He’s not a dog. He’s a man. He’s going to want to sleep in one of the bedrooms. You can’t expect him to camp outside or something, can you?”

I rolled my eyes and stalked out of the room. “I’m Katia Reynolds,” I muttered under my breath. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

# # #

Of course, the asshole was late. I sat down in a corner chair with my pumpkin spice latte (skim, of course) and waited, staring irritably out at the parking lot. I’d always hated Starbucks, especially in LA – they were always full of college kids, trying to spot someone famous. Or worse, reporters. This one in particular was packed. I glanced around smugly, trying to see if anyone was staring at me. When I saw a group of college-aged boys over by the window, I licked my lips seductively and lifted my latte towards my mouth. They watched, jaws practically grazing the floor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a gruff voice said.

I swallowed hard and put my coffee down. “What?” And just who the hell do you think you are to give me advice?”

A man lowered himself down into the seat across from me. He was gorgeous – I had to admit. He had long, dark hair that waved around his head and barely grazed his shoulders, perfect tan skin, and gorgeous bone structure that screamed plastic surgery. Dark scruff lined his chiseled jaw and his dark blue eyes almost certainly had to be colored contacts. He was wearing head-to-toe leather, including an expensive jacket that almost looked like last season Armani.

“I’m Devin,” he said. He winked at me and I swallowed hard. I wasn’t expecting this guy from a motorcycle club to be so gorgeous. I glared.

“And why do you think you can get off telling me what to do?”

Devin raised his eyebrows and laughed. I saw he was holding a small espresso. “Because,” he snarled in a low voice that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re being a fucking idiot, and it’s my job to tell you when you’re doing that.”

I sniffed. “I don’t see how flirting with college boys could hurt me,” I said daintily. “They wouldn’t do anything!”

“Honey,” Devin said patronizingly. He leaned across the table, and I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and engine grease. “These are exactly the kind of kids who wouldn’t think twice about sneaking onto your property and taking some pictures to sell to TMZ. You’re worried about a stalker, right? Don’t encourage these little wannabes,” he added. “They’re just kids now, but in a few years, who knows?”

My heart thudded in my chest and I took a small, controlled sip of my latte. “I guess you’re right,” I admitted grudgingly. I stared at him again; those dark blue eyes were the most unnerving I’d seen in weeks. Maybe even months, unless you counted the time last month when I saw Bradley Cooper at the grocery store. Just thinking about the way his blue eyes had flitted over my body was enough to make me wet.

“I knew you’d be hot,” Devin said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing me sharply. “But I didn’t think you’d be a dead-ringer for Katia Heigl.” He licked his lips and I struggled with the hot feeling that rose through my belly. “I didn’t think I’d actually wanna fuck you.”

When I felt his hand under the table, resting on my thigh, I didn’t push it away. This was typical; men always wanted me, usually within a few seconds of meeting me. Back when I’d first moved to LA, I’d loved the attention. If I was being honest with myself, I still did. But it was so typical, so basic. If a guy wanted me, I wanted him to work for it. I certainly didn’t want him to come onto me in the middle of some trashy coffee chain.

“That’s enough,” I said, sliding my legs to the side. His hand fell off my thigh, and I noted with satisfaction that he didn’t try to touch me again. “I need you to work for me,” I said primly. “That’s all. Just work.”

“Yeah, your assistant told my guy something about that,” Devin said. He smirked. “You need a bodyguard?”

I nodded. “I think someone’s stalking me,” I said.

“Any idea who that could be?”

I rolled my eyes. “No,” I said, frowning. “How the hell would I know that? It’s not really like I keep up with the millions of fans or anything.”

“You’ve got a real big ego for an ex-beauty queen,” Devin said lazily. He drained his espresso and set the empty cup down on the table. “You ever think about trying to act?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ve done cameos before. But acting is so draining,” I added.

“I bet,” Devin said. It took me a moment to realize he was being sarcastic. “When do I start?”

“Immediately,” I said dryly. “I need you to come home with me now.”

Devin winked. “Shit,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be so forward!” He raised his eyebrows and smirked, sending a shiver of lust down my spine. “My pleasure,” he added in a low growl.

I rolled my eyes. “Good luck, asshole,” I said. I smirked right back at him. “Every single guy I’ve ever met has tried to get in my pants, and most of them haven’t succeeded. What makes you think you’ll be any different?” It was true. I was so used to guys coming onto me that I barely trusted any of them. All guys wanted was sex. In the past, whenever I’d brought up actually going on a date, most guys had refused outright. That hurt, but it had hardened me up enough that after a while, it almost stopped hurting. Men like Devin were a dime a dozen. Some scruff, messy hair, and cigarettes. They were all the same – they just wanted me to fuck me and run. I knew that, deep down. But as much as I tried to rationalize it away, this time something was stopping me. I knew that Devin was in my power; he was obviously captivated by the sight of me. But right now, I had much bigger things to worry about.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Devin said cockily. He walked towards the door, and I had to trot to keep up with him. “I get what I want,” he added. “Just like you.” He winked at me, then pushed the door open. “Ladies first.”

As we left the Starbucks together, I hate to admit that I blushed.

Chapter Four

Katia

“Ugh!” I groaned loudly. “Devin! What the hell? Did you just make espresso?”

“Yeah,” Devin grunted. He was sitting at the kitchen table in my breakfast nook reading the paper. “What? What did I do this time?”

I sighed. “It doesn’t fucking matter,” I snapped, unplugging the espresso machine. “Just don’t touch this again!”

Devin laughed. “Princess, I think I know how to work a coffee maker,” he said. “I’ve been doing it long enough.”

“Just like you know how to sit around, read the paper, and ignore me?” I raised my eyebrows and put my hands on my hips. “You’re damn good at that!”

“Hey,” Devin snapped. “Doing my best here, girlie. What the fuck do you want? You want me to follow you around like a little dog?”

Devin had moved in almost two weeks ago, and his idiosyncrasies were already starting to drive me crazy. With a sigh, I stalked out of the kitchen and flopped down on the living room sofa. My whole condo was decorated in complementary colors: ivory, gold, and pink, with grey and pink marble accents. I wasn’t used to having a man in my space, either, and living with Devin was going to be much more of a pain in the ass than I was willing to admit. For one thing, I wasn’t used to having to wear actual clothes around the home. I loved lounging around in lingerie and pretty little chemises, but with Devin’s prying eyes, I’d been wearing a little more. Like right now, I was wearing my favorite La Perla silk chemise with a kimono on top, and I felt so overdressed!

“Hey,” Devin barked. “Katia, what the fuck?”

I rolled my eyes when I saw that he’d followed me into the living room.

“Go away.” I sat up on the couch and reached for the remote. “I’m going to watch TV.”

“I’ll sit with you,” Devin said. “I bet you’re gonna put on Real Housewives, aren’t you?”

“None of your business,” I said. I adjusted myself on the couch. My kimono slipped down one of my shoulders, and I didn’t think to pull it back up, even when Devin’s eyes focused on me and stared.

“Do you always dress like a hooker?”

I turned to him and put the remote down. “Excuse me?”

“I asked, do you always dress like this?” Devin pointed at my chest, then slowly trailed his finger down in the air. I shuddered; even though he was seated five feet away, it was almost as if I could feel his hot touch around my breasts and tummy.

“I do,” I said. “At least, when I’m at home.” I tossed my blonde curls over one shoulder. “Normally, I wear less,” I added. “But since you’re here, I feel like I should worry a little more about being polite.”

“You’re a real piece of work,” Devin grunted. He reached forward and pulled a giant book off the coffee table. As he flipped through the pages, I licked my lips and kept my eyes trained closely on his body. “What is this?”

“That’s my coffee table book,” I said primly. “I wrote it, as soon as I won Miss California.”

Devin rolled his eyes. “I shoulda known,” he grumbled, flipping the pages rapidly. “There’s almost no fuckin’ words here, just pictures of you prancing around in a bikini.”

“Hey,” I snapped. “That was a bestseller on Amazon!” I preened and sat up straighter, picking through the ends of my hair with a manicured nail. “I made sure it did well.”

Devin nodded. “I bet you did,” he said under his breath. I waited for him to follow-up, but the room stayed silent. With a sigh, I picked up the remote and turned to my saved TV shows. After selecting a rerun of The Bachelor, I pulled my legs up on the couch and covered myself with a woven silk and chenille pink throw that I kept folded up for times like these.

“You’re fucking insipid,” Devin said. His voice was almost cheerful. “You just sit at home all day, rotting your brain with trash television. This is the most boring job in the world.”

“I don’t,” I argued. “I do things.”

“Oh yeah?” Devin stood up. My book fluttered to the floor, and I glared at Devin until he made a show of leaning over and picking it up. “Like what?”

“I go out, I go to the gym, I go shopping,” I said, tapping a finger with each item. “I do things, Devin. Just not like you.” I sniffed. “You’re probably a criminal or something. Anya told me all about your little club.”

Devin snorted. “Yeah, my little club that pulls in a few million each year.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You’d think that someone as spoiled as you would know better, princess.”

“A few million?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t believe that,” I scoffed. “If you made that kind of money, you wouldn’t be here.”

Devin snorted again. “Yeah, right,” he said. “I gotta earn a little side hustle, too. You don’t know anything about me, babe,” he added. “If you did, I bet you wouldn’t be so cavalier.”

I turned up the volume on the TV and turned away from him. “Whatever,” I mumbled. “Like I even care right now.”

Even though Devin stayed quiet for the rest of the episode, I couldn’t concentrate. Something was really bothering me – and I had no idea what it was. Normally, when I felt like this, I’d go shopping or call Anya and tell her to arrange a party for me and my friends downtown. Ever since I’d found that creeptastic email, I hadn’t even felt like going out. Clubs were all the same – dark, smoky, anonymous. I didn’t want to take the risk of being out in public if there was a chance I really did have a stalker. A club would be the first place he could grab me.

After the episode was over, I stared at the credit sequence for a long time. I couldn’t even begin to think about what had happened on TV, and I was no closer to figuring out which one of the women Bachelor Ben was going to end up with. It was like I’d wasted an hour just sitting there thinking about Devin.

“You look like you’re concentrating hard on something,” Devin said. “You wanna clue me in, babe?”

“Ugh,” I muttered under my breath. I stood up off the couch, my kimono falling down into a graceful pile of silk on the floor. “No. I think I need some tea or coffee or something.”

Devin stared at me. “Look,” he said. “You don’t have to be such a brat.” He stood up and walked closer to me. As soon as I caught the whiff of tobacco and leather, I began to tremble. I didn’t understand it; I’d never felt this conflicted before about anyone. Part of me wanted to kiss him, wrap my arms around his strong, muscular neck and pull him close. The other part of me wanted to slap that smug grin off his face, and maybe tell him to shave while I was at it!

“I know,” I said. I smiled, aware of Devin’s eyes clinging to my body. “But this is my house, and I’ll act however I want.” My mouth went dry as Devin stepped closer, and I licked my lips. “And you don’t have to follow me around,” I added. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to, I don’t know, stay outside and watch for intruders?”

Devin threw his head back and laughed. “You’ve been watching too many movies, princess,” he said derisively. “I’m not worried about that. If someone wants you, they’re not going to wait until the middle of the night to sneak in. You remember what happened to Victoria Beckham?”

I groaned. “How would someone like you know anything about her?” Victoria Beckham was, admittedly, one of my idols. I loved everything about her. The way she kept her figure after four kids, her collection of Birkins, her insanely hot soccer player husband.

“Remember that time she was on stage?” Devin smirked. “That little red light appeared on her chest?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. I tossed my blonde hair over my shoulder.

“Well, maybe you should read the news, honey,” Devin said. Sarcasm dripped from his words. “She was almost shot by a sniper in a crowded amphitheater.”

My blood ran cold as I fully processed the meaning of his words. I blinked. “Um,” I said. “Wh– what exactly are you trying to say?”

Devin walked closer, crossing his arms over his muscular, brawny chest mimicking my stance. “I’m saying,” he said in a low voice, leaning close. “That if someone wanted to hurt you, it wouldn’t matter where you were. They’d have a plot. They’d have a plan.”

My heart began to thump like I was hooked up to a jackhammer. I blinked. “And…?”

“And if you wanna be safe, you’d better trust me,” Devin grunted. He was so close that I could see the golden flecks in his deep blue eyes. “You’d better do everything I say. And I mean everything.”

I licked my lips again. My heart rate showed no signs of slowing down as I swallowed hard and took a step backwards. Devin stepped closer, advancing on me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I said softly. My voice trembled. “You’re a criminal. You used to sell drugs.”

Devin laughed. “But I’m here now,” he said slowly. His voice was low and soft and sent a tingle of lust down my spine. “And I’m not anywhere close to drugs. Just pussy,” he added. “The most potent drug there is.”

I leaned forward and pushed him away. “God, grow up!”

Devin laughed from behind me. “You’re such a prude,” he teased. “You can’t even stand hearing the name of your own anatomy.”

I wrinkled my nose and turned back around. Devin was standing with his legs spread apart, his hands planted firmly on his hips. The sun streaming through the windows glinted off his hair and made his eyes look cornflower blue. Even though he was only wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, I had a hard time remembering the last time I’d seen such an attractive man.

Katia, don’t be stupid, I thought to myself. You spend your days around movie stars and rock musicians. You’ve seen guys that are hotter than this criminal.

“I’m not a prude.” I bit my lip and looked down at my chemise. I loved the way this one had always fit. My breasts were lifted perfectly up in the air, making me look as though I’d had implants. “I mean, if I were prude, would I be wearing this?”

Devin snorted. “Hey, I never said you couldn’t be a prude and a cocktease at the same time,” he said. He winked at me, and I felt a hot, frustrating flush rise to my cheeks. “You can be both, babe. In fact, you definitely are.”

I shook my head furiously and stomped my foot on the ground. “You don’t know anything about me,” I said. I pouted at him. “I’ve had so many boyfriends it would make your head spin if I told you about all of them.”

Devin crossed the floor so quickly that I had to blink. Before I could react or cry out, he wrapped a muscular arm around my waist and pulled me close, crushing my body against his own. I cried out as he covered my lips with his, slipping his tongue into my mouth and kissing me passionately. He tasted like coffee and smoke and I melted against his brawny chest as his tongue licked mine. His fingers tangled in my hair pulling me deeper into his kiss. Moaning softly, I stretched up on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around Devin’s neck. His body against mine was an incredible feeling. My nerves tingled and my heart raced in my chest as Devin nibbled on my lower lip.

After what felt like an eternity, I came to my senses. This is the man who mockingly calls you ‘princess,’ I thought. This is the man who doesn’t take you seriously at all! What are you doing, Katia?

I pulled away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Oh my God,” I said. I blushed. “I’m so sorry. That– that shouldn’t have happened!”

Devin stared at me. His blue eyes were even more intense than usual and his lips were pink and swollen from the intensity of our kiss. I wanted to kiss him again, so badly, that I felt it in my bones.

“My fault,” Devin said. He shrugged and winked. I blushed even harder. “I’ll stay away from you, princess.”

“I hate that name,” I said as I wrinkled my nose and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m Katia.”

“What about Kat?”

“God, no!” I stuck my tongue out. “I hate that, too.”

Devin raised his eyebrows. “Kathy?”

I glared at him. “That’s even worse!” I cried loudly.

Devin burst out laughing. His laugh was nice – a rich, baritone sound that filled the room. It was almost enough to make me stop frowning. Almost.

“Okay, okay, no Kathy,” Devin said. He tapped his scruffy chin with a finger. “I kind of like Kat. D’ya think you’d ever come around to that?”

“Are you kidding me?” I sassed him. “What the fuck, Devin? No!”

Devin laughed again, throwing his head back and facing the ceiling. “This is too easy,” he said with a smirk once he’d righted himself. “You’re too much, you know that?”

“I’ve been told before,” I said primly. “Not like it’s any of your business, though.”

Devin shook his head. “You’re a fuckin’ piece of work,” he mumbled. “I should charge extra for this.”

I glanced around. “Oh, yeah, you should definitely charge more. I know that I’m basically holding you hostage in this hovel, and you deserve much more than that,” I added, letting sarcasm drip from my last words. “God knows, you probably deserve this more than I do! Why don’t I just pay you with the deed to my condo?”

Devin grinned. “That would be great,” he said. “You willing to do that?”

Everything in me wanted to fight with him on this, to engage him, to fight him and tear him down and make him understand what a self-righteous prick he was being. But then a vision of Arielle, my yogini, popped into my head. I imagined her bowing her head to me, wishing me peace and calm, telling me to harness my inner strength. I took a deep breath and tried to exhale all of the anger (and admittedly, all of the lust) that I felt towards Devin.

“No,” I said, opening my eyes and staring Devin down. “That was a joke. I’m going out,” I added. “Are you coming or staying here?”

Devin shrugged. “Do I really gotta choice?”

Chapter Five

Katia

Devin trailed me as I shopped. This time, I was so conscious of him following me that I wasn’t able to buy a single thing. He was a real ass about the whole thing, too; he kept sighing and checking his watch whenever I’d been inside of a store for more than five whole minutes.

“Are you going to do that the whole time?” I whined with my hands on my hips as I turned to face him. “Don’t you know that a lady has to spend a lot of time in a store to be acquainted with her options?”

Devin rolled his eyes. “I’d forgotten that little tidbit,” he said sarcastically. “Are you gonna be done soon, princess? I’m starving.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my long blonde locks. People were staring at us, and not in the good way, either. Devin was attracting a lot of attention; nearly every woman who walked by glared at him. I couldn’t blame them. In the boutiques of Rodeo Drive, he stood out like a sore thumb.

“I’ll be done when I’m done,” I replied tartly. “If this is bothering you so much, why don’t you just go home?” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, I’m sure there’s an issue of Popular Mechanics that’s just calling your name!”

“I can’t just leave you here,” Devin said gruffly. He stepped closer, making people stare all the more. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“And what happens if someone breaks in while I’m gone?” I cocked my head to the side and stared at him. “Then what?”

“My job ain’t protecting your house,” Devin snarled. His azure eyes flashed with a blend of menace and intensity that I couldn’t help but find sexy. “You’re my job. Not your fuckin’ Barbie condo.”

I sighed. Just as I was about to reply, I felt my phone buzz against my hip. “Give me a minute,” I said cockily as I pulled it out. “My assistant is calling me.”

“My assistant is calling, ooooh, I’m so important!” Devin said in a high-pitched voice. He clasped his hands against his chest. “I can’t imagine what she wants!”

“Hi, Anya,” I said dryly. “I’m really liking this guy you picked out. Devin is a real joy to be around.”

“Katia, are you okay?”

“What?” I squinted at the phone in my hand. “Of course I’m okay. Why? What’s wrong?”

She paused.

“Come on!” I demanded. “Tell me!”

“Well, I was checking my email, and someone just sent me some pictures…” Anya trailed off.

My stomach dropped to the floor and I felt a thin layer of sweat break out on my brow.

Oh, no, I thought. More of those same creepy drawings. What the hell is going on?

“Like, drawings?” I asked. “Or what?”

“No,” Anya said. “Katia, they were pictures of you. And Devin. Together. You two are kissing, and it looks like you’re standing in the middle of your living room.”

I blinked as my cheeks colored bright red. “Um,” I stammered. “Uh…”

“What’s going on?” Devin asked shifting into professional demeanor. I shook my head at him, still gaping from the shock.

“They were taken today,” Anya said hastily. “The timestamp is on the photos and everything. Look, I want you to get someplace safe immediately. And I want you to take Devin with you, okay?”

I glanced at him. “He’s already with me,” I said. “Anya, are you going to call the cops?”

“I already did,” Anya replied. “But they’re not taking me seriously. No one’s exactly making threats on your life.”

I scowled. “Someone’s watching me, through my windows!” I snapped. “Of course they’re going to want to harm me!”

“But there’s no threat in the email,” Anya said sadly. “Just the pictures of you guys kissing.” She sniffed. “And Katia, you might want to think a little more carefully about what you’re doing with Devin. He isn’t your boyfriend, you know.”

I could have reached through my iPhone and strangled her.

“I know,” I said coolly. “And look, I’m fine. Thanks for your concern, Anya.”

I hung up before she could say another word.

“What happened?” Devin stepped closer. His brow was creased and for a moment, I thought he was actually concerned about my well-being. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded. “Anya got an email,” I said quietly. “Someone took pictures from the outside of my house,” I paused. “of us kissing.”

Devin’s eyebrows jerked high into the air. “Are you okay?”

I bit my lip. “I’m freaked out,” I said honestly. “This whole thing – it’s too much for me.”

Devin wrapped a muscular arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I was tempted to push him away, but I couldn’t deny that it felt good to have someone hold me like this. I could feel his heart beating through his chest and his strong, warm body against mine was making me feel safer by the second.

“Just breathe, Katia,” Devin whispered into my ear. “Everything’s going to be okay. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I’m just scared,” I said softly into his ear. People were streaming around us like a smelly river. They were all staring, but I no longer cared. The only thing I was thinking about was Devin, and the way his arm felt around my thin shoulders.

“I’ll protect you,” Devin said gruffly. The sensation of his breath against my earlobe was enough to make me shiver. Between my legs, I felt a warm, buzzing sensation. I was getting wet from the way he was comforting me!

“I know,” I said softly. “That’s what I hired you to do.”

“I mean it,” Devin grunted. “This guy, whoever he is, he’s just trying to scare you, Katia. Don’t let this bother you. He knows your weak spots, and he wants you to feel like he can exploit you. I’m willing to bet anything that his bark is worse than his bite.”

I sighed. “I’m terrified,” I admitted. All kinds of horrible thoughts were running through my head. No matter which way I thought of it, I was terrified. It seemed like everything was going in the worst direction possible, and I had no idea what to do in order to fix it.

“It’ll be okay,” Devin said. He glanced down at me. “Why don’t you go shop some more? It’ll take your mind off things.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You think I’m just a dumb blonde,” I said. I rolled my eyes as much as it stung, but I didn’t want Devin to know that. “Like shopping would fix world hunger or something.”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Devin said. His voice was softer this time. “But I know how much you enjoy it.”

His words did make me feel a little better. I wished I could do something about the raw arousal that was threatening to gnaw a hole in my lower belly. It was so distracting, like Devin himself was the one behind the way I was feeling.

“Okay,” I mumbled. “I guess I could do some more shopping.”

Devin followed close behind as I trailed through the rows of luxury stores. Nothing caught my eye, at least not until I made it down the row to La Perla. They had a beautiful satin mint-colored chemise in the window, and I noticed Devin’s eyes lingering on it from a distance.

“You like that?” I licked my lips.

Devin shook his head. I could tell he was embarrassed that I’d caught him looking. “I’d look terrible in that,” he said wryly. “But you, on the other hand. . .” He trailed off. For a moment, just a split second, I thought I saw a blush appear on his cheeks.

“You wanna see me in it?” I raised my eyebrows and laughed. Suddenly, the hormones were raging through my body, and I couldn’t think of anything other than what it would feel like to drag Devin close to me and kiss him until my lips were sore. I wasn’t sure what it was, maybe a reaction to the stress I was feeling, but I was hornier than I had been in ages.

“Come on,” I said to Devin without waiting for an answer. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the store. As always, a sales associate flitted close to me and handed me a basket. I piled it with tons of lacy, pricey lingerie without even thinking about it: Cosabella, Stella McCartney, everything that I saw with a three-digit price tag and sheer coverage.

“You’re not really gonna buy all that stuff,” Devin drawled. He glanced down into the basket in my arms. “That’s like a grand worth of pricey underwear.”

I licked my lips. “Well, I’ve got to try it on first,” I said saucily. “You wanna peek?”

Devin stared at me. His lips were parted, and I could tell his breath was coming in damp pants. His blue eyes were so dark that they almost looked navy, and his skin was flushed. I stared right back at him. I wanted to pull him close, shove my tongue in his mouth, and wrap my legs around his waist and never let him go.

Without saying anything, I turned on my heel and carried the basket into a changing room. I pulled the velvet curtain across the rod until I was almost completely sealed off from the rest of the store. When I saw Devin’s boots peeking out from the bottom of the fabric, I grinned and slowly slid it open just a few more inches.

Pulling my clothes off, I stretched and pulled on a midnight-blue bra in lace and satin. The cups barely covered my nipples, and I pouted and vamped at myself in the mirror. When I glanced over my shoulder at the crack in the dressing room curtain, I noticed Devin’s eyes were fixed on me.

I stared at him, waiting for him to speak. While his eyes said all the intense things that I wanted to hear, his mouth didn’t even open. I held his gaze with mine, staring into the dressing room mirror until I thought I would make it fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces.

“Should I buy this?” I wondered aloud. Knowing Devin’s eyes were still locked on my half-nude frame, I slid my hands over my body, moaning slightly as my fingers grazed my breasts. Since it was almost my time of the month, they were more sensitive than usual. I threw my head back, letting the ends of my blonde hair graze the skin of my back.

Devin didn’t reply. When I looked at him again, his eyes were black with lust. His face was filled with lust, and I could tell that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. In that moment, it took all of my willpower to turn around and unfasten the bra from my body.

Easing the fabric away from my breasts sent a sensual tingle through my limbs. As I picked up the next piece of lingerie, I turned around to face the curtain. My nipples were stiff from the cold air of the dressing room, and I knew my perky breasts looked amazing. My stomach was tan and toned from millions of hours spent doing barre work, and my panties barely covered the thin patch of blonde pubic hair growing over my pussy.

“Well?” I asked softly. “Should I buy that bra, or not?”

Chapter Six

Katia

The next morning, Devin was crankier than usual. I drank my cappuccino in silence punctuated with sighs as I flipped through my emails.

“I have a charity event this afternoon, followed by a party in the evening,” I mused. “Are you coming with me?”

Devin glared at me. “You know that’s part of the bargain,” he said. “You can’t just leave me behind. I’m your bodyguard,” he spat.

“And you were so good at it yesterday,” I said lightly. I didn’t mention what had happened after we’d come home from the shopping trip. Absolutely nothing. Devin hadn’t been able to take his eyes off me for the rest of the day, and while I’d wanted to kiss him again, I’d come to my senses right after returning to my condo. Devin stood out among the sea of pink and gold furnishings, and it occurred to me how silly it was that I had such desire for him. After all, he was nothing like the men I was used to dealing with.

I’d always had a type – metrosexuals, usually blonde, blue-eyed, and the kind of guy who would scoff at Ralph Lauren from a mile away. My last boyfriend, Antonio, had been a gorgeous, misogynistic Italian guy. We’d had so much fun together, touring villas of Italy and France, sipping vintage champagne. I’d hated his comments, and hated his cheating even worse, but he’d actually been the one to break up with me because I refused to give up my career. Now, I wondered whether I was going to be able to find a guy who was able to keep up with me. And Devin definitely isn’t that guy, I realized.

“What do you do, anyway?” Devin asked. I frowned and blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, do you do anything valuable?”

“Of course,” I snapped. “Everything I do is valuable. You know that,” I added in an obvious tone of voice. I gestured around my kitchen, furnished with all of the latest gadgets and technology. “I mean, how else would I be able to pay for all of this? Someone thinks I’m good at contributing to society,” I added.

Devin rolled his eyes. “You’re a spoiled brat,” he commented. “I bet you don’t even know what charity is getting the money from your event later.”

I stared him down. “Of course I do,” I replied. “It’s the Youth Diabetes Charity. I always go to their events.”

Devin snorted. “Yeah, because a bunch of kid diabetics definitely need an ex-beauty queen hanging around. What the hell do you do, cut a ribbon with big gold scissors?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that kind of event,” I informed him “It’s a silent auction, all benefiting diabetes research.” Admittedly, I had little idea about what actually lay ahead this evening. Most Wednesdays, I had an alternate agenda.

I’d been visiting the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles every week for the past five years. I didn’t want to tell Devin, though. I hated the idea that he’d probably take credit for my charity. Besides, it was personal.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be over soon, and then you can get back to shopping,” Devin said curtly. He opened the LA Times and flapped the paper so it shook noisily. I cringed; I’d always hated that sound.

“Shut up,” I mumbled. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Surprise me,” Devin said. He was glaring at me, his cobalt eyes blazing light fire. “Seriously, Katia. I wanna know. Do you have one good bone in that body of yours? Or is everything a fucking game to you?”

I glared at him and stood up from the table, pushing back with both of my hands. “It’s none of your fucking business,” I snapped. I closed my eyes and tried to think of Arielle telling me to relax. But even after a series of five deep breaths, I wasn’t feeling better. I flashed my eyes open at Devin and glared at him. Suddenly, this was war.

“What?” Devin joked. “You forget that you have a waxing appointment for later?”

I picked up my phone and called Anya. “Anya, you’re going to have to cancel my appearance at the Diabetes event,” I said coolly. “I’m doing my usual Wednesday work this week.”

“Katia, they’ve already sent you a thank you basket for agreeing to attend!”

“Well, send it back,” I snapped. “I don’t need another iPhone or meal delivery thing anyway. You know, they’re never really gluten-free.”

Anya sighed. “Katia, are you sure this is wise?”

I didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on Devin’s, staring at him until he shrank away.

“Yes,” I said confidently. “This is exactly what I want. Now, call the Children’s Hospital and please tell them they can expect me at the usual time.”

“Okay,” Anya said nervously. “But I think you should at least call them or send a note or something, Katia. They were expecting you.”

“I’ll go to the next three of their events, free of charge,” I said. “You can tell them for me, can’t you, Anya?”

I hung up before she could answer and smirked triumphantly at Devin. Originally, I hadn’t wanted him to know about what I did every Wednesday; at least, I didn’t want him to know why. But somehow, I had this stupid burning urge to make him believe that I wasn’t the spoiled, rotten brat that he thought. I wanted him to know why I was always acting the way I did. I had a feeling that if he knew, maybe he’d understand.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said to Devin, resisting the urge to gloat. “But you’re about to find out.”

“Oh, yeah?” Devin rolled his eyes. “Lemme guess, you go to the Children’s Hospital, so you can flirt with all the single dads.”

I glared. “Shows how much you pay attention,” I said sweetly. “And besides, at least I’m not a criminal.” I raised my eyebrows. “Like you,” I added with unneeded clarification.

# # #

Three hours later, Devin and I walked into the lobby of the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. The secretary, Shelly, dropped her jaw when she saw that it was me.

“Oh my God, Katia!” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. “I had no idea you were coming today. Anya said you had an event.”

“I thought I did,” I said with a small smile. “But this is more important to me, Shell.” I grinned, and it was genuine this time. “I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing my girls for a week.”

“They’re going to be so thrilled,” Shelly gushed. “They were all so sad when I told them that you wouldn’t be coming.”

Turning to Devin, I raised an eyebrow and gave him a look as if to say “See.” I noticed that after that, Devin couldn’t quite meet my eyes.

Chapter Seven

Devin

When Katia dragged me to the kids’ hospital, I didn’t know what she had up her sleeve. I was expecting something ridiculous like photo ops with dying kids. I had no idea that she’d be greeted with such enthusiasm. It was weird, seeing that gorgeous blonde in such a sterile, antiseptic environment.

“So,” I said casually, leaning against the lime-green painted wall. “Why are we here?”

Katia licked her pink lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off her; she looked even more gorgeous than usual today. Even though she was only wearing tightly-fitted black jeans with a cream silk blouse, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine. Her makeup was light and accentuated her natural beauty, and her loosely curled hair fell over one shoulder like a model’s.

“You’ll see,” Katia said sweetly. She smiled at me and confidently walked down the hall with her heels clicking on the tiles; clearly, she’d travelled this route before.

I followed her down the hall and into the elevator. “We’re going to the pediatric ward?” I frowned. “What the hell is this? Some kind of photo-op?”

Katia didn’t answer. The elevator doors dinged open, and she swished out into the hallway, leaving a cloud of expensive, flowery perfume in her wake. I felt my cock twitch and stiffen in my jeans as I watched the rounded curve of her ass stroll down the hall. She stopped in front of an open door and poked her head in. Immediately, her soft voice was drowned out by the enthusiastic screams of children.

I frowned. What the fuck is going on, I wondered. Has she actually been here before?

“Hi, girls!” Katia sang out. I stepped into the room and watched as dozens of girls swarmed around her. She greeted the girls by name with sincere smiles and hugs. Two of them wrapped their skinny arms around her waist and glanced into her eyes with adoration.

“Who’s he?” One of the girls stepped closer to me. She had a shaved head and big, bulging green eyes. She was sickly thin and so pale that I could see the veins in the crook of her elbow. “He doesn’t look like someone you’d be friends with!”

Katia giggled politely. She detached herself from the crowd and walked over to me, casually linking her arm through mine. “This is Devin,” she said kindly. “He’s a friend. He– he’s helping me out with some things.”

“Katia, Katia!” The pale girl cried. I watched as she bounded across the floor and leapt into Katia’s arms. Surprisingly, Katia was able to pick her up with ease.

“Hi, Bella,” Katia said sweetly. “How are you?” She reached out and pulled the girl into a tight hug. “How’s your mom and dad? Are they doing any better?”

The girl, Bella, looked at me nervously.

Katia laughed again. “Devin isn’t going to say anything rude,” she said. “He just looks tough. That’s part of his job.”

Bella sighed. “Mom’s doing better,” she said quietly. “Dad’s still mad at her, but I think they’re going to be okay.”

“Bella’s mom had an accident last week, and there was a little stress at home,” Katia said to me in a quiet voice. “She’s been really worried.”

I stared. I couldn’t believe it. Katia Reynolds, frigid bitch beauty queen, was like Snow White among the animals. I could tell from their wide stares of adoration that the kids loved her.

“I’m sure everything’s going to be fine,” Katia said. “Look, I have something for you.” She set Bella down on the ground and reached into her purse. As she pulled her hand out, she handed Bella a small beaded bracelet. “I have the same one,” Katia said. She tapped her wrist, and I recognized a three-hundred-dollar Pandora bracelet that she’d bought the previous day when we’d been out shopping.

“Wow,” Bella breathed. “This is really for me?”

Katia nodded. “Yup,” she said. “You can always wear it. I checked with the nurses. Whenever you’re sad or lonely, just remember that I have the same one.” She held up her wrist in front of Bella’s face. “See?”

Bella’s face broke out into a wide grin. “Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “Thank you!” I watched as she threw her arms around Katia’s neck and hugged her.

The girls couldn’t have been happier to see Katia. It was crazy. Never in a million years would I have expected someone as hot and stuck-up as Katia Reynolds to be the best friend of all these sick little girls. After she greeted all of them and caught up a little, she dragged a chair towards the center of the room and pulled out a huge case of make-up.

“Who’s ready for makeovers?”

The responding cry was so deafening that I wanted to cover my ears with my hands. Snickering to myself, I leaned against the wall and watched as Katia showed each of the girls how to put on lipstick.

“Now blot, like this,” Katia said. She rubbed her lips together and then blotted them on a tissue. “You all do the same thing.”

“Wow,” one of the girls breathed as she looked in a mirror. “I look so grown-up!”

Katia laughed. “Your mom would kill me if she knew about this,” she said. “Desiree, how’s your baby brother doing?”

Another one of the girls, this one had a short layer of thick, grown-out hair, stood up and blushed. “He’s great,” she said. “He’s learning how to walk and everything.” She frowned. “I just wish I was there for it.”

Katia shook her head. “Trust me,” she said. “It’s probably better that you’re here surrounded by your friends.” She raised her eyebrows confidentially at the girls. “Babies are a lot of work, especially after they learn how to walk.” She licked her lips. “I remember that I was jealous of my baby brother because he got so much more attention than I did.”

“You were jealous?” Desiree and one of the other little girls both looked at Katia. “But you’re so pretty, Katia! Why would you be jealous of a little boy?”

Katia blushed. She cleared her throat. “Because I was your age too, once,” she said. “And he was a boy, so my dad spent more time with him than he ever did with me.” She glanced over at me. “Hey, what do you think about giving Devin a makeover?”

Desiree giggled. “Only if he can wear a wig, too!”

The other girls clapped and laughed. Even Katia’s eyes twinkled with the idea. As she turned to me, I couldn’t help but notice the flirtatious smile on her face.

“I think that can be arranged,” Katia said dryly. “Devin? What do you think?”

Ten minutes later, I was struggling not to laugh as one of the little girls smudged blue eye shadow over my lids.

“This tickles,” I complained. “How the hell do you do it without laughing?”

“Don’t move,” the girl said. I think I’d heard Katia call her Anna. “I’m gonna mess up if you keep moving around!”

I bit my lip and tried to stay still as Anna traced her thumb over my eyes. When I heard Katia suggest blush, I groaned.

“I’m gonna look like a drag queen,” I moaned under my breath as Anna came towards me with a handful of blusher. “You don’t know what that is, yet, but it’s not something you want to be. Trust me.”

“Girls, don’t listen to him,” Katia said playfully. “You can be anything you want, and you know it.”

They all let out a cheer in unison. I groaned as Katia pulled out a box from the closet of the room. She opened it and pulled out wigs.

“Now, which one would look good on Devin?” Katia asked the girls. She held a blonde pageboy wig in one hand and a long, black, Morticia Addams-esque wig in the other.

“Black!”

“Okay, Anna, why don’t you help him?” Katia handed the wig to Anna. “You’ll need to pull his hair back in a wig cap first. Do you know how to do that?”

Anna giggled. “You show me,” she said.

“All right.” Katia took the wig from her hands and walked towards me. When I smelled her floral perfume, it was enough to drive me wild. As she reached over and pushed my hair back, she leaned close to my face.

“This is hell,” I muttered. “I totally understand why you brought me here. You wanted to torture me.”

Katia grinned. It was a genuine smile, not the fake one she usually gave me when I said something snarky. “You’re being a good sport,” she said, in a voice so quiet I knew the girls wouldn’t be able to hear. “Thanks for doing this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who knows,” I muttered. “Maybe I have a secret future as a Morticia Addams impersonator.”

When Katia pushed her hands through my hair, a bolt of lust flared in my body. I wanted to grab her and pull her close and bury my hands in that long blonde hair. I wanted to pull her head back and bite her neck until she was moaning with pleasure. I wanted to make her wet, to make her groan and scream with how much she wanted me. My cock chafed against my pants and I bit my lip, desperately trying to hide the insane amount of lust I felt towards Katia.

“Are you okay?” Katia’s voice was low. “Does this hurt?”

“Not as much as I’d like it to,” I said quietly.

Katia’s cheeks flushed bright pink. I stared at her chest. Something about her golden skin told me that the same blush would continue all the way down her body. I shuddered; I wanted her so badly in that moment that I was afraid I’d grab her in front of all the kids.

“Stay still,” Katia said playfully. She gazed into my eyes, and I saw nothing but compassion and goodness in her blue eyes. “I can’t put this wig on if you keep squirming!”

“Katia, let me!” Bella launched herself across the room until she was standing right beside me and Katia. I noticed that she kept glancing down at her wrist and fingering the bracelet Katia had given her. Right then and there I knew how much Katia meant to these kids. I wondered how long she’d been visiting them. Maybe it had been a charity thing at first to talk about in pageants, and she’d found the kids too cute to resist?

I didn’t understand it. On the outside, Katia didn’t seem like much of a kid person. I would have definitely thought her to be the type to groan if a kid smacked into her in public. Then again, I’d thought a lot of things about Katia before I’d seen her in the hospital. She was like a different person.

“Okay,” Katia giggled. She handed Bella the wig. “Just be careful not to scratch his face when you slide it on.”

Chapter Eight

Katia

The look on Devin’s face was priceless when he glanced in the mirror and saw himself in the wig. All the blood drained from his cheeks, and he gasped, pressing his face with both of his hands.

“Bloody hell,” Devin muttered in a bad, fake British accent. “I’m a woman!”

The girls all exploded with laughter at the sight of Devin in a long black wig. I couldn’t even keep from laughing as he glared at me. Somehow, it was even more adorable than usual. The girls had outfitted Devin in blue eye shadow and coral lipstick. He looked like a drag queen, albeit one who hadn’t shaved in a few weeks.

“You look perfect,” I said with satisfaction. “Doesn’t Devin look pretty, girls?”

“Yes!” They all chorused together.

“You should bring Devin back next week,” Anna said. She leapt onto Devin’s lap and threw her arms around his neck. “Is he gonna read to us?”

I smirked. “That depends,” I said softly. “Have you asked him nicely?”

Half an hour later, Devin and I were saying our goodbyes. I always hated this part of the trip, especially with some of the girls, like Bella, who were even sicker than usual. I’d been coming to the hospital every week for months, and it was long enough to know who would probably survive and who wouldn’t. Bella had been in remission for a little over a year before her cancer had come back, and I knew from the nurses that this time, it was the most serious it had ever been. Saying goodbye to the girls broke my heart. It always did. I had to make peace with the fact that there might come a time when a bed or two would be empty.

Just thinking about it was enough to make me want to cry.

Devin said goodbye to all the girls. I could tell they’d really liked him. They were throwing their arms around him and hugging tightly.

“You were a hit,” I said to Devin as we checked out of the hospital at the nurses’ station. “Those girls loved you.”

Devin grinned. It was a heart-melting smile – crooked, and showing his perfect white teeth. I couldn’t believe that a biker like him would have such a great smile, but he did.

“That was fun,” Devin said. I grinned. The way he was looking at me was different, like he was actually trying to see inside of me, instead of right through me. “Those kids are sweet. How do you know them?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached down and twined my fingers through his.

“What’re you doing?” Devin asked.

I didn’t reply as I tugged him off to the side. Glancing around me to make sure we were alone, I wrapped my arms around Devin’s neck and pulled him close. My breasts rubbed up against his muscular chest and I sighed softly as I leaned in for a kiss. When our lips met, I could have sworn I felt a spark fly between our bodies.

Devin groaned. He slid his arms around my waist, down, until he was squeezing my ass. The sensation through the material of my jeans was incredible, and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue slipped between my lips. Even though he hadn’t had a drink since the night before, I could have sworn that he tasted like whiskey and cigarette smoke. It was delicious, addictive. I felt my hormones surge as our tongues danced together, playing and teasing inside of my mouth.

“God,” Devin groaned. He pulled me closer and squeezed my ass harder than ever. I shivered at his touch and pressed my body against his, wrapping one of my legs around his muscular thigh. Devin shoved his leg forward, until his thigh was pressed against my crotch. I could feel my pussy thumping with arousal, and I wanted nothing more than to feel his erotic touch closer to my skin. We’re in a hospital, I had to remind myself as Devin rubbed his leg against me.

Finally, I summoned every ounce of willpower left in my body and pushed Devin away. He was staring at me with a wild look of lust in his blue eyes. I desperately wanted to kiss him again, to pull him close and feel his warm muscular strength against my body. But I knew that I couldn’t. At least, not right now.

“We should go,” I said between heavy breaths, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “I don’t want to get kicked out of here. It would break my heart if I couldn’t come visit every week.”

Devin nodded. He slipped his fingers through mine and squeezed. I stared up at him.

“What?” Devin laughed. “Do I have something on my face?”

I shook my head. “It’s not that,” I said softly. “I just – well, I didn’t exactly peg you for a hand-holding kind of guy.”

Devin snorted. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s just sex.”

For some reason, that bothered me. A lot.

# # #

I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said in the car on the way home. I knew that Devin was right. It was just sex. After all, he was a hired man, and as soon as the problems with my stalker were over, he’d go back to his life. I’d go back to mine, too; my life of dating metrosexuals and scolding Anya for buying the wrong kind of coffee. But I didn’t want to think about that just yet.

Devin slowed the car to a stop at a light. I was surprised because he actually had a pretty nice machine. It was a Camaro, and although it wasn’t a new model, it drove well and it was gorgeous. He drove smoothly down the freeway with skill and precision. I could tell Devin had obviously put a lot of money and effort into his car.

I reached over and let my hand rest on his thigh.

Devin looked at me with surprise. “What’re you doing?”

I licked my lips as I began to knead the muscles under my fingers. Devin had an incredible body. I knew that the moment we touched again, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself away. As I slid my hand up his leg and fondled him through his jeans, Devin groaned.

“You gotta stop,” he panted. “I’m gonna fuckin’ crash the car.”

“So do it,” I said with a grin. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Devin growled. He let me continue rubbing him for another moment, then shoved my hand away. “No,” he said firmly. “Not right now.”

I pouted. I really wanted to sleep with him. Even though I had to act like a prude around a lot of people who knew me, deep down I was about as far from a prude as a woman could get. I prided myself on being good in bed, and I knew that I’d always made my boyfriends happy before. But it was tough for a woman of status like me. If I became too obvious about it, no guys would want a relationship with me.

Devin glanced at me. “I want you, Katia,” he growled as he shifted the car into a higher gear. We sped forward. “But not right now. Not in my car.”

Satisfied, I pulled my hand back into my lap. A grin spread across my face. I’m going to get my way with you, and when it happens, you won’t even know what hit you I thought as Devin drove us back towards my condo.

As we slowed down for another light, I was surprised to feel Devin’s grip on my hand. He grabbed my fingers and pulled them towards his lap, pressing my hand against his crotch. When I felt his hard cock through his jeans, I gasped and pulled my hand away.

I turned in my seat until I was facing him. Pouting, I stared at his profile. “I thought you didn’t want me touching you.”

“I don’t want you touching me in traffic,” Devin said. He winked at me. I felt my cheeks flush bright red. “But we’re stopped right now.”

I slid my hand up his thigh, making sure to avoid his cock as much as possible. He was so big, I couldn’t believe it. When I thought of how his cock would feel pushing inside of me for the first time, I shivered.

“Feeling okay?” Devin raised his eyebrows. “You look a little flushed, Katia.”

I pulled my hand back into my lap and pouted. I didn’t understand this guy. One minute, he was acting like someone who wanted me. I’d never be able to forget that look in his eyes I’d seen at the hospital. It had been incredible. The kind of look I always wanted to see, but rarely did. It was more than lust. It was as if he wanted more than just my body; he wanted to possess all of me.

But then, two minutes later, he was back to being teasing and mocking. I frowned as I stared at his profile through my Gucci sunglasses.

“Devin,” I said carefully. “Do you really think I’m spoiled?”

Devin burst out laughing. I glared at him as the sound of his raucous excitement filled the Camaro.

“I’m not kidding,” I whined loudly. “Do you really think I’m useless?”

Devin shook his head. He was still chuckling, and his cheeks were bright pink. “No,” he said after a moment. He shifted the car into a lower gear as we turned off the freeway. “I don’t think you’re that spoiled.”

I licked my lips. “So you still think I’m at least a little spoiled, then,” I countered. I crossed my arms over my chest. Somehow, I hadn’t been expecting him to admit that. I knew it was stupid, but part of me had been hoping the little trip to the hospital would’ve changed that. I mean, obviously, I hadn’t just wanted to go so Devin wouldn’t think I was a rotten person after all. Still, though.

“Well,” Devin said. He glanced towards me, but with his mirrored sunglasses I had no idea whether or not he was actually looking at me. “I mean, Katia, does this even matter?” He snorted. “It’s not like we’re gonna be in touch for too much longer. As soon as this stalker shit dies down, I’m off.”

My stomach twisted into a knot and I frowned again. What’s going on, I wondered. Why the hell is this even bothering me so much?

“That’s true,” I said slowly. “But do you think I’m a bad person?”

Devin laughed again.

“It’s not funny,” I said in a sharp voice. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Devin sighed. He ran a hand through the sexy tangles of his unruly dark hair. “Katia, I don’t even know what that means,” he said. He sounded tired, worn out all of a sudden, like the day had been too much for him. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” I argued. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the leather seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m horrible!”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Devin said. Up ahead, I saw my condo looming on the right-hand side. Devin expertly slowed the Camaro and pulled into my driveway. As he turned the key in the ignition, I couldn’t ignore the lump that was forming in my throat.

“Yes, it does,” I said stubbornly.

“It really doesn’t,” Devin said. “You’re gonna go on with your life, no matter what I think. And after this is over,” he added, using air quotes for the last few words. “You’re probably gonna forget all about me and start going out with Mr. Big, or whoever you girls dream about.”

I glared at him. “That’s not true,” I said. I shifted in the leather seat, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.

“And furthermore,” Devin continued. “You think I’m a criminal.” He lowered his aviator shades and looked at me. His eyes were completely serious, no hint of laughter or joking behind them. “You told me as much yourself, so what the fuck does it matter if I think you’re a spoiled princess?”

I bit my lip at his stinging words. But when I thought back to our earlier interactions, even the one that had led to our passionate kiss in my living room, I knew that he was right. I’d called him a criminal. I’d acted like I was better than him, just because I was famous and had money.

“Never mind,” I mumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

Chapter Nine

Devin

I didn’t fucking understand her. I’d never really been great at understanding women. I was good at fucking them, but that was about the only thing I could really claim when it came to the fairer sex. I’d never had a real relationship, either. Wasn’t because I couldn’t get one, but because I’d never wanted one. I never understood the point of fucking a woman more than once. Even a woman as smokin’ hot as Katia Reynolds.

What’s that saying? Show me the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’ll show you a man sick of her shit?

Yeah, something like that.

My buddies in the club, Tristan and Troy, always had girls hanging around. They were more like Wicked Bones groupies than anything else, though. And they’d always vie to sleep with me, but that didn’t work out too well. I was usually too busy worrying about the well-being of my guys. I didn’t have time for some cheap little floozy who expected a warm bed and a hug just for giving me head.

When I was in high school, before I dropped out, there was a girl who followed me around and flirted with me. I had to give her credit. Back then, I was a greasy motherfucker who rarely showered or shaved, and I always wore trench coats with ripped up jeans. She was in a few of my classes, and she’d always make it a point to sit beside me and flirt with me. She’d wear skirts and sit with her legs spread just enough so I could see the white crotch of her panties. It used to drive me crazy. I never got to see her pussy; she wasn’t that kind of girl. But the glimpse of her labia nestled in white cotton was enough to make me cum my pants more than once. She’d lick her lips and toss her hair over one shoulder and act all innocent and sweet. I think her name was Tanya. She never even talked to me outside of class. I used to dream about fucking her, but the truth is, we never even touched.

That was about the closest I’d ever come to having a girlfriend. I got laid for the first time when I was fourteen, some girl that was hanging around my older brother Stephen. He and I barely had anything in common, but we shared the same blue eyes, dark hair, and mischievous grin. Girls flocked to him, even though he was kind of a nerd. He did debate team and he was in the bowling club, but he could still get pussy.

One day, this little redheaded girl showed up while I was sitting on our porch. She was older than me, probably sixteen or seventeen or so.

“Is Stephen around?” She flicked her eyes over me with interest. “Who are you? His brother?”

I nodded, sticking out my chest and trying to look cool. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m Devin.”

She giggled. “I think I had a class with you last semester.” I watched as she blushed; it lent a delicious pink undertone to her pale skin. “Algebra One, right?”

I snorted. “Yeah, fuck that shit. I hate math.”

“I do, too,” she said. She giggled again and scooted closer. We were sitting outside on the front porch, and it occurred to me then how beautiful the sky was, all shades of purple and pink and orange. I wondered if it was always this pretty at this time of the day, or if I was just noticing for the first time before.

“So,” I said, trying to sound suave. I stretched my arms over my head and let one rest on the back of the porch swing. “You’re Stephen’s girlfriend?”

She blushed and shook her head. “Um, no,” she said. She crinkled up her nose and gazed into my eyes. Her eyes weren’t exactly green, more hazel, but the sun caught them in a pretty way that almost turned them golden, like a cat’s.

“You wanna be Stephen’s girlfriend, then,” I said as I grinned at her knowingly. It wasn’t a question but a statement. “Get in line. He has girls calling him around the clock.”

She licked her lips. “He probably doesn’t even know I exist,” she said mournfully. I watched as her pink lips opened and a small sigh came out of her perfectly-formed mouth. “I mean, we’re in drama together. But he’s so popular. I can’t even compete with those other girls.”

I put my arm around her for real then. I wasn’t trying to mack on her, just make her feel better. At least, that’s what I told myself when she leaned into the crook of my arm. It felt so good to have a warm girl pressed up against me, a girl who smelled like strawberries, Dove soap, and something vaguely sweet but unrecognizable.

“What’s your name?” I asked her softly.

Instead of answering, she shifted in the porch swing and pressed her lips to my cheek. I turned my face and met hers, and then we were kissing for real. When she slid her tongue into my mouth, I tasted bubblegum. I thought my cock was going to explode in my pants.

“It’s Lilly,” she said shyly, pulling away. “You wanna go inside?”

That day remained one of the hottest days in my life. I think I spanked to it for years afterwards. Lilly and my brother never wound up dating. I wonder why. She didn’t hang around much after that, and I never saw her after that. I probably wasn’t a very good fuck. I think I lasted all of five seconds before groaning and filling the condom. But that day was important to me; it was the day I’d become a man.

“Hey,” Katia said. She snapped her fingers, jolting me out of my Lilly-induced reverie. Katia walked into the living room wearing a pair of jeans and a white sweater. “What’re you doing?”

I blinked. “Nothing,” I mumbled.

She burst out laughing. “You’ve been staring at the wall for like, twenty minutes,” she teased. “I’m going shopping for dinner.”

I stared at her. The afternoon sun was catching her blonde hair, making it look almost white. The jeans were practically molded to her body, and I could see the curve of her ass through the denim. And the sweater was a sexy one. The soft wool was knit in a pattern with holes, and I could see her tan skin through the fabric. My cock twitched in my pants as I thought about what it would feel like to grab her, take her, make her mine.

“What?” Katia looked down at her sweater. “Do I have something on me?”

I shook my head.

Idiot, I thought with a groan. Act like a fucking man, you’re not some stupid teenager! You’re thirty years old, for fuck’s sake! If you wanna fuck her, fuck her!

“No,” I said. I stood up and ran a hand through my unruly cowlicks. Katia stepped closer, and a warm, spicy-yet-floral scent wafted over my senses. “I can take you to the store,” I said casually. “I’m bored as fuck right now.”

For a moment, I thought she was going to protest. Ever since that day in the hospital earlier in the week, I’d thought of her a little differently. She was still a spoiled little bitch – don’t get me wrong, but I was starting to see her as almost innocent, the kind of girl who wanted to act like much more of an adult than she really felt. I had a feeling that a lot of Katia’s snobby behavior was all adapted, all something that she’d started putting forward as a way of making herself seem more like the typical beauty queen, the typical LA girl.

“Okay,” she said in a small voice. “You can drive.”

I grinned. As we climbed into the car, an idea struck me. “Hey,” I said. “You ever seen the Hollywood sign? Like, the view from up there?”

Katia’s blue eyes got wide, and she shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “I’ve always wanted to see the view. People always talk about how incredible it is, but I’ve never been.”

“We should go up there,” I said as I backed my Camaro out of the driveway. Katia looked good sitting in it beside me. I wouldn’t have told her, but I was dying to see what she’d look like in a bikini, rolling around on the hood.

“Why?” Katia frowned. “I thought you hated spending time with me.”

I sighed. “Not this shit again,” I said darkly. “I don’t want another round of questions like you gave me after going to the hospital.”

Katia bit her pink bottom lip, and a jolt of desire shot through my body. “Okay,” she agreed. “No more questions.”

I kept my eyes locked on her as I drove out towards the Hollywood hills. I couldn’t have told her this, but seeing her at the hospital had put her in a new light. She was obviously the favorite person of those sick girls, and I had no idea why she kept going every week. Maybe it had been some kind of a charity event at first, and she’d felt guilty ignoring them? Or maybe she’d worry that she’s look bad if she didn’t show up?

I frowned as I steered the car onto the freeway. Neither of those options really fit with my idea of Katia Reynolds as a person. She wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Ice cold, more like.

Maybe there’s something about her I don’t know yet, I thought as I shifted into a higher gear, passing a lane of cars. Yeah, right, I decided, looking over. She was probably just doing it to look good for me.

“At least there haven’t been any more creepy emails, right?” I glanced over at her. Katia was sitting perfectly straight, staring out the window with her rose gold Gucci sunglasses perched on the bridge of her perfect nose. “I mean, that’s gotta be a huge fuckin’ relief for you, I’d think.”

Katia nodded. “It’s weird,” she said slowly. “I never felt unsafe before, especially not in my own condo. Not even at beauty pageants with all those creepy guys around.”

I burst out laughing. Katia looked offended, but she didn’t say anything in response.

“I bet,” I said carefully. “Those guys probably make Donald Trump look like a gentleman.”

“Oh my God,” Katia said. She giggled and put a hand against her chest. “I actually met him once, you know.”

“You did?” I looked at her over the tops of my aviators. “You kiddin’ me?”

“Dead serious,” Katia replied. “I was qualifying for the Miss Universe pageant – I didn’t win, obviously,” she added with a sour expression. I had to stare; even when she was pissed, she was still gorgeous. “But yeah, I had to go to this dinner sponsored by Trump, and he was such a creep!” She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, he walked around touching all of our butts! It was so gross!”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” I mumbled, raking a hand through my hair. “And you just had to take it?”

Katia nodded. She looked miserable, and I felt a pang of something strong. Frowning, I bit my lip. What was it about her that made me want to protect her?

“We were supposed to think of it as an honor,” she said loftily. “I mean, how gross is that? Some creepy, old orange man grabs you, and you’re supposed to like it?”

I pulled off the freeway and started driving up one of the older country roads that I knew led to the Hollywood sign. As the Camaro bounced over cracks in the road, Katia squealed. I watched as she bounced up and down; her breasts, her ass, all flying around the inside of the car like she wasn’t even strapped in.

“What?” Katia asked primly. “You’re staring at me.”

I didn’t reply. Seconds later, I felt her hand on my thigh. Katia slid her fingers up my leg, gently squeezing my thigh. When she got to my crotch, I groaned. I was already hard. Just seeing her tits bounce around from the bumps was enough to make me solid as a rock. Katia slid her fingers over the bulge in my jeans, and I suppressed the urge to moan.

As quickly as I could, I slowed the Camaro down and pulled over to the side of the road. Even though we were only about half an hour outside of LA, it looked like we were in the middle of the country.

“What are you doing?” Katia looked out the window. “This isn’t the Hollywood sign, I don’t see anything—”

Reaching across the seat, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in close. Her lips against mine felt like two silk petals, and I moaned as she slid her tongue in my mouth. Katia’s hands on my lap felt as hot as molten lava, and as she brushed her fingers against my cock, I shivered and groaned.

“God,” Katia moaned softly. “Take me, Devin.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice.

As smoothly as I could, I tumbled into the backseat of the Camaro and pulled Katia with me. She landed on top of me with a soft groan, and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. As we kissed, I pushed my muscular thigh between Katia’s legs against her crotch. I could feel the hot pulse of her pussy through the skintight material of her jeans, and for a moment, I thought I was going to cream my boxers. Katia flattened her body against mine. Her trim tummy and full breasts pushed against my chest, making me feel like a real man. I was filled with the urge to tear her apart, to rip her clothes off, to make her so satisfied that she’d never want another cock for the rest of her life.

“Devin,” Katia moaned. I shivered. The way she said my name was enough to send a powerful bolt of lust running though my body. I shifted my body, putting one hand on her waist and the other on her hip. Pushing Katia underneath me, I crawled on top of her as best I could. The Camaro’s backseat was small and snug, but we fit perfectly, almost like it had been designed for this steamy moment. As Katia pressed her lips to mine and ran her tongue along my lower lip, I groaned with desire. She ground her hips against me, spreading her legs and wrapping them around my waist until I was locked against her crotch.

Nudging Katia’s head up and to the side, I nibbled my way down her neck, kissing and licking her tender, tan skin. She tasted like vanilla and Tom Ford Black Orchid. My cock was throbbing in my jeans by the time my face was buried in her breasts. The white sweater was made of soft wool material, but it was skimpy enough where I could see the swell of her breasts rising and falling in a black satin bra.

I slipped my hand under Katia’s sweater and moved to tug it over her head. She didn’t resist; she even craned her neck up to help me. When she was laying underneath me in just a bra and jeans, I stared at her.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” I murmured into her cleavage as I buried my face between her perfect tits. They were all natural, too. Katia moaned as I pulled one breast free of the bra cup and flicked my tongue over her nipple. It was as hard as a little pebble in my mouth, and I nipped at her areola with my teeth as Katia arched her back and pushed more of her breast inside my mouth.

Running my hand down her body, I slid my fingers between her thighs and rubbed the crotch of her jeans. The cries emanating from Katia were hoarse, wild, like she’d never been touched like this before. I grinned as I increased the friction between her body and mine. I wanted to please her until she was screaming, until she was so wet that I could smell her pussy from a mile away.

Katia shifted her body under mine. She released her legs from my waist and moaned softly as I slid my hand between the waistband of her jeans and her perfectly toned stomach. My fingers touched filmy lace, and my cock throbbed in my jeans.

“I’m so wet, Devin,” Katia moaned seductively in my ear. She shifted to the side and pulled me with her until we were laying side by side, tangled up in the back of the Camaro. She grinned at me and reached behind her body, unsnapping her bra and pulling it away from her breasts. I couldn’t help but gape when I saw her shirtless for the first time. Her perfect rounded breasts were tan and capped with pink nipples that begged to be sucked and licked. Groaning, I buried my face in her tits and took one of her perfect nipples between my thumb and index finger. Katia let out an unbridled cry of pleasure as I rolled the erect nipple in my fingers. She arched her back and shoved her body close to mine. Just as I was about to reach between our bodies and slip my hand into her jeans once more, Katia slipped her hands under my shirt. They were hot and soft, and just the sensation of her hands on my bare skin was enough to drive my lust to new heights.

Katia tugged my shirt over my head and pressed her bare tits against me. I groaned as she dragged her fingernails lightly down my back. She wasn’t touching me hard enough to leave a mark, but I imagined fire bursting up in the wake of her nails. As she touched the small of my back, I groaned and shoved my hips forward. Inside my pants, my cock was on fire. I wanted her to touch me. Hell, I needed her to touch me.

“God, Katia,” I groaned in a low voice. “Touch my cock. Please, touch me.”

Katia gave me a mischievous smirk and kissed me again. I tasted our shared saliva on her lower lip as she slipped her tongue into my mouth. As we kissed, she twined one hand in my hair and gently tugged my scalp until I was groaning with desire. Katia nibbled and sucked on my lower lip until I was gasping. The lust filling my body was more addictive, more powerful than any drug I’d ever taken. As she pulled away, she trailed her hands down my body and fumbled with the snap on my jeans.

Eagerly, I wriggled my hips, and she tugged the material down to my hips. My cock sprang free, and Katia wrapped her hand around the shaft. Katia stared into my eyes as she slowly stroked me. She didn’t blink. Her blue eyes focused intently on me, and she licked her lips as she slowly moved her hand up and down my erect cock. It was too much; I couldn’t stand it. I knew that if she kept touching me I was going to explode.

Finally, I pushed her away and crawled back on top of her. Katia’s jeans were so tight that I had a hard time unsnapping the button and pulling them down her golden-tan hips. When I saw that she was only wearing a flimsy lace thong underneath, I shuddered. Desire was flooding my body, making me feel crazed with lust. The Camaro was filled with the musky, sweet scent of Katia’s arousal as I tossed her jeans to the side.

Spreading Katia’s thighs, I crawled between her legs and nuzzled her pussy through the thin fabric. She moaned and dug her fingers into my hair, pulling until my scalp felt painfully tight. Her thighs were soft and smooth as they brushed against the sides of my head, steadying my face right above her fragrant pussy. As I closed my eyes and inhaled the most delicious scent that I’d ever smelled, my body prickled with lust. Katia was so wet that the material of her panties was translucent. I could see a small patch of blonde hair covering her pink labia, and as I slipped two fingers inside the waistband of her panties, she moaned loudly and arched her back, pressing her soaked cunt against my mouth.

I groaned loudly as I began to suck Katia through the damp material. She went crazy; immediately she was bucking and thrashing around. I grinned to myself because I knew that I was pleasing her. As I slid one finger inside her wet womanhood, I spread her labia apart with my other hand and sucked the hard, little nub of her clit through the filmy thong. Katia buried her hands in my hair and tugged, pressing my face even closer to her body. My senses were on fire, tingling and burning with the excitement of lust pumping through my veins. The, sweet taste of Katia’s pussy was overwhelming as I sucked greedily at her clit until she cried out in pleasure and bucked her hips.

Getting to my knees, I knew I had to take her right then and here. I spread Katia’s legs and pushed the crotch of her panties to the side. In my hand, my cock felt hot and stiff, like it had a mind of its own. I leaned close, pressing the head of my erection against her.

“Are you ready?” I asked Katia in a low voice. Her blue eyes were locked on mine, and I shuddered as she gave the slightest, most imperceptible nod.

“Take me,” Katia moaned softly. She closed her eyes and pushed her hips closer to my body, burying my cock inside of her.

As I slid into her soaked pussy, I knew exactly what heaven felt like. It was hot and soft, and smelled exactly like Katia’s sweet blend of musk and designer perfume. I closed my eyes and groaned, steadying myself with a hand on Katia’s hip as I fucked her.

“Oh my God,” Katia groaned. With each thrust, I could feel her muscles tightening around my cock. As I went harder and deeper, she threw her head back and wriggled her body against mine. Her tits bounced as I slammed into her, again and again. I stared at her exquisite body until I felt as though I would erupt. I closed my eyes, arching my back until my head grazed the ceiling of the Camaro basking in the sensation of her intoxicating body.

“Devin!” Katia cried. The way she said my name made me open my eyes. When I looked down, I saw that her face was pained and fearful.

“What’s wrong?” Reaching down, I cradled her head in one hand. “Katia? What’s wrong?”

“I hear something,” she said softly. “Stop! Do you hear that?”

For a second, the only sound I could hear was the pounding of my own heart inside my body. I pulled out of Katia and pulled my boxers back up my legs. With my heart pounding, I sat up and looked out the back windshield of the Camaro.

“Fuck!” I muttered. “There’s a fucking cop!”

A cop car was parked not thirty feet behind the Camaro. A middle-aged, grizzled police officer was walking towards the car with a smug grin on his face. A protective urge shot through me, and I grabbed my shirt and tossed it over Katia’s naked body.

“Put this on,” I barked at her. As quickly as I could, I struggled to find my jeans and pull them on. Just as the cop rapped his fist on the window, I scrambled back into the front seat and rolled the window down.

“What’s the problem here?” The cop leaned into the Camaro. He grinned like an old pervert, and I had to resist the urge to punch him right in the jaw. “Somethin’ going on, son?”

“There’s no problem,” I said, as steadily as I could. The blood was pounding in my ears, and in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds of pleasure that had been coming from Katia not thirty seconds before.

“Oh yeah? Why’d you stop out here?” The cop tapped the brim of his hat. “This ain’t a good area for stoppin’, son.”

I sighed. “I know,” I said. “My girlfriend – she wasn’t feeling well. We’re going now,” I said, sticking the key in the ignition. “You got a problem with that?”

The cop leaned closer to the car, a grin stretching his face. Rage coursed through my body, and I wanted to climb out of the car and beat the shit out of him. I knew that he was ogling Katia through the back window of the Camaro.

“All right, you can go,” the cop drawled. “But don’t let me catch you out here again.”

# # #

On the ride back into LA, Katia stayed silent. I was quiet, too. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. This wasn’t like me; even though I was wild, I was usually careful to a fault when it came to illegal activity. The brush with the cop had left me shaken. Why the hell was I being so stupid, anyway? I knew that just one arrest would ruin everything for me and the rest of Wicked Bones. Just because Katia was the hottest woman I’d ever seen didn’t mean that I should go around breaking laws with her. After all, if I were to get arrested, the cops would do a lot of digging. They’d find out all about the illegal arms trade and probably the drugs. That would mean the rest of my life, or at least a sizeable portion, would be spent behind bars.

And there was just no way I could do that to my guys.

“What’s wrong?” Katia turned to me, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. I wasn’t about to tell her what I was thinking. She’d already called me a criminal once, and though I’d acted offended, I couldn’t bear to have her know the truth.

I stared at her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. I winked. “I hate being interrupted.”

Katia flushed. I could still smell the scent of her arousal hanging in the Camaro, even with the windows down and the breeze whipping through my hair. I wanted her more than I’d wanted a woman in my entire life. It was like she had some kind of hold on me that was more powerful than anything I’d ever known. Her pussy was like a magnet.

A magnet for trouble, I found myself thinking as I pulled onto the freeway and changed the car into a higher gear. And you gotta stay away from that pussy if you wanna get this job done nice and clean.

Still, I couldn’t get the taste of her out of my mouth.

I just have to fuck her once, and then I won’t care, I decided. Katia was staring out of the window, her blonde hair falling gracefully over one shoulder.

Just one fuck, I thought as I stared at the perfect curve of her tits under that ivory sweater, and then she won’t mean a damn thing to me. I just gotta get her out of my system. That’s all.

Little did I know how difficult that would really be.

Chapter Ten

Katia

The next day, sitting in my condo I still couldn’t believe that I’d come so close to an orgasm with Devin in the car. It had happened all too quickly. I’d been so close when I’d heard the cop approaching. I still blushed to think about it. I hadn’t even been embarrassed! I’d just been angry that I hadn’t been able to come first.

It was enough to make me hang my head in shame. I knew exactly what Anya would say, if she knew: “Katia, you can’t keep acting that way! You’re being so risky! Think of your fans!”

I cringed and blushed as I thought about the girls back at the Children’s Hospital reading about me, Katia Reynolds, their hero in the LA Times. I could just see the headline now: “Beauty Queen Caught With Ex-Con!”

I shuddered. Still, as much as I wanted to put Devin out of my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was everything I wanted, at least, in a sex partner. I hadn’t wrapped my mind around anything else appealing. Devin was crude and loud. He didn’t have good manners, and more than once I’d caught him eating a whole pizza at once. Besides, he rarely washed his hair, and it was always standing up in dirty little cowlicks.

But you think he’s sexy, a small voice piped from the back of my mind, and you even like the way he smokes!

I wrinkled my nose. Devin wasn’t like any of the other guys I’d ever met. Most of them were too interested in handling me with kid gloves. I was used to going out with guys who gave me diamonds on the second date. Guys who always ordered for me (usually a salad), guys who held open doors, guys who’d never be caught dead staring at my ass.

Guys who wouldn’t ever thrill me as much as Devin had managed to thrill me in the backseat of a Camaro. I blushed thinking about the way he’d pulled off my jeans, then buried his face in my panties and sucked my clit as though it were lifeblood. It had been a passionate encounter unlike any other that I’d ever had, and it had barely lasted ten minutes!

I wasn’t used to dealing with men like Devin. Not at all. The metrosexual guys I’d always dated had maybe had a rough side to them. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew what men did at bachelor parties. But that wasn’t ever a side that they’d let me see. It was frustrating, being such a ‘good girl’ and having to deal with all of the unfortunate consequences.

My phone buzzed in my lap, startling me out of my daze. When I saw that it was Anya calling, I felt both relieved and kind of empty.

“Hey Anya,” I chirped. “How’re you?”

“Wow, Katia, you’re in a good mood,” Anya observed. “How are you?”

I frowned. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her about Devin, at least, not until this whole thing was over.

“Ouch,” I said playfully. “Am I always such a bitch to deal with?”

Anya chuckled, but I had a feeling her laughter wasn’t entirely humorous. “No comment,” she said breezily. “Look, I’ve got some stuff to drop off at the house. The hospital sent you another gift basket. Do you want to keep it or should I donate? Also, we’ve got all these books you need to sign. Remember that giveaway?”

My hand cramped at the mere thought. “I do,” I said mournfully. Last month, I’d offered a collection of one hundred of my coffee table style book as prizes for a local raffle. Anya had suggested sweetening the deal by signing each of them, and I’d reluctantly agreed. But now that the thought of the task was at hand, there was nothing I felt like doing less. Especially not with hot, hunky Devin patrolling my home.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just bring them over. I don’t need the basket, so you can donate it.” I paused. “Actually, yeah, bring it over. I’ll give it to Devin.”

“Devin?” Anya laughed. “The guy you wanted to sleep in the yard? He’s making an impression, I take it.”

“I guess,” I lied.

“It’s not like you’re gonna have to deal with him for much longer anyway,” Anya said. “I haven’t heard anything from the stalker, and the LAPD called earlier. They think they’re close to tracking someone down.”

I knew her news should have filled me with joy but instead my heart sank. My mouth tasted of ash, and I felt the corners of my lips dip into a frown.

“Katia? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m here. What?”

“Just that we’ll need to finalize our payment to Devin soon,” Anya chirped. She was breezing right on as if he didn’t mean something to me. I frowned at the thought.

What the hell do you mean, ‘mean something’? I wondered. He’s hired muscle. That’s all. You can’t get attached to this guy! Think of your reputation, Katia!

“I know,” I said. “Look, I was actually thinking, what if I hired him full-time? I mean, I probably should have had some security staff before this whole thing happened in the first place, don’t you think? Like, someone to watch over me and all that?”

Anya laughed. “Katia, you live in one of the safest neighborhoods in LA,” she said gently. “I think we can look into getting some security cameras and setting up a little room, but I don’t think you’ll need someone on patrol, at least not after this whole thing dies down.”

I couldn’t explain why, but her comment was deeply upsetting to me. “Well, what if I want someone here,” I persisted. “This whole thing has left me feeling really unsafe, Anya. I think I could probably do with a permanent guard!”

Anya laughed. “Katia,” she said gently. “I think you’re being a little ridiculous. Everything’s going to be fine. This is all just precaution, remember?”

I pouted. “Fine,” I mumbled. “So, when are you coming over?”

“I’ll be there in a while,” Anya said. “You’re home?”

I glanced up. Devin was walking around in the hallway, his heavy footsteps sounded like small rumbles of thunder. I grinned to myself.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m home.”

As soon as I hung up the phone with Anya, I felt like pouring myself a big glass of wine and taking a long bath. I would’ve, too, except that it was ten in the morning. Instead, I went to my bedroom and threw open the doors of my closet. Normally, when I was in a bad mood, I got all dolled up and went out on the town, but the idea of leaving home with Devin wasn’t nearly as appealing as staying in with him.

Soon, you’ll be alone again and you can do whatever you want; he’ll be gone, probably out screwing some woman with a bad blonde dye-job, and you’ll be alone. I thought as I flipped angrily through the racks of clothes, most of them still with the tags from the store.

I frowned. This wouldn’t do. I couldn’t keep wasting time, pining over someone who obviously didn’t give a shit about me. And why would he? To Devin, I was some spoiled Hollywood brat. Sure, he wanted to fuck me. Deep down, I knew that we had almost nothing in common. It wasn’t like we’d ever have long candlelit dinners discussing our favorite childhood vacations.

Something in the closet caught my eye, and I grabbed it. It was the same mint chemise that I’d bought from La Perla that day I’d let Devin watch me in the dressing room. My lips curled into a thin smile as I pulled the garment close to my body and draped it over my shoulder. Sure, Devin was going to be gone soon. But he was here now, wasn’t he?

And I knew that I wasn’t going to let him go without a fuck.

# # #

Two hours later, I was feeling more sexually frustrated than I’d ever felt in my life. I’d been lying on the couch for over twenty minutes, with the mint chemise artfully slipped off one shoulder. Devin had barely even looked at me. He’d mumbled something and then disappeared into the kitchen.

What’s wrong with me? I wondered as I reached up to pat my hair. It was still in place, and I knew I looked good.

So why wasn’t he making a move?

Suddenly, I had an idea.

“Devin!” I called loudly, sitting up and rubbing my neck. “Can you come here for a moment?”

I heard a loud sigh, followed by heavy footsteps into the living room. Devin appeared, looking both incredibly sexy and disheveled. His dark hair was even more unruly than usual as it stood up in little cowlicks over his head, and I could tell that his scruff was getting long, even for him.

“My neck hurts,” I said sweetly. “Would you mind rubbing it for me?”

Devin rolled his eyes but walked over and began to rub my neck obediently. It felt so good that I let out a loud moan and arched my back, leaning against his legs. The bulge at the fork of his jeans told me that he was already half-erect. With a grin, I stretched, pushing the chemise further up my thighs and exposing a black garter belt and stocking set.

“This is new,” I said sweetly. “Do you like it?”

Devin’s rough hands stopped in their tracks. I heard him roughly suck in a breath, then he let out a low whistle.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Devin said in a low voice. I shuddered; just the sound of his growl was enough to make me wet. “You’re trying to seduce me, Ms. Reynolds.”

My mouth was dry and my heart started to pound in my chest as I stood up and turned to face him. For a moment, we squared off, facing each other and breathing heavily. Then it happened at once; Devin grabbed me and pulled me close, pressing his mouth against mine. I moaned as a hot flood of pleasure swirled through my body and I threw my arms around his neck. Devin’s hands were on my waist immediately, and he was pulling me through the air. Wrapping my legs around his muscular torso, Devin carried me gently into the kitchen and set me on the counter. The cold marble against my thighs made me shiver, and I cried out softly into Devin’s mouth as he caressed my breasts through the silk chemise.

“God,” I groaned softly. My nipples were so hard that I thought they were going to explode. As Devin caressed my body, I arched my back and threw my hair back. Devin pressed his face into my breasts. When I felt his tongue on my nipples through the silken fabric, I let out a wild cry of pleasure. Devin was the only thing on my mind, filling and completing me until I felt like I’d never be whole again. He slid a hand inside my chemise and toyed with my nipple as his mouth fastened around my other nipple. When I felt his teeth graze the delicate skin, I screamed with pleasure.

Between my legs was a soaking void. Devin trailed his hand down my body and trailed his nails on the soft skin of my inner thighs. I moaned softly as he got closer and closer to my womanhood. It was the most exquisite, teasing sensation I’d ever felt. I held my breath as his fingers drew nearer and nearer to the most sensitive place on my body. My pussy was so wet that my lace thong was sticking to my skin. Devin gently tugged on the delicate fabric, making it slide against me. It felt so good that I cried out. A blush came to my cheeks.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Devin growled. He stood up and kissed me roughly again, exploring my mouth with his tongue until all I could taste was his smoky essence. Devin’s stubbly chin rubbed against the soft skin of my face, making me feel chapped and raw, but I loved the sensation of it. I moaned softly as he began to suck on my lower lip.

“Take me now,” I growled softly into Devin’s mouth. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me forward, until my crotch was rubbing against the flat muscles of his abdomen. I moaned and struggled. The feeling was so intense that I wanted more of it, but at the same time it was almost too much. Devin didn’t let me pull away. He held me fast and bucked his body, sending shivers of pleasure. Even though there were layers of fabric between us, it was as if we were naked.

“Out of this,” Devin growled. He placed both hands at the front of my chemise and ripped it neatly down the middle. I gasped with excitement. The cold air on my breasts felt wonderful, and the way Devin had torn my chemise made me feel both vulnerable and desired. When he lowered his head to my nipples and began to suck, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Moaning softly, I shoved my chest forward. Devin bit down softly on a nipple, and I screamed. He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. I wrapped my legs around his waist, barely aware of floating through the air. With my eyes closed, Devin and the pleasure rocketing through my body were the only things I could see. He was everything – the air inside my lungs, the smoky taste in my mouth, the powerful muscled body wrapped around mine. With Devin, I didn’t so much feel like a woman as half of a whole. Like he was the other half that I’d been missing my whole life, and I hadn’t even realized something was gone until now.

Devin carried me into the bathroom, flicking on the lights. He set me down on the counter and pulled his shirt off. I studied his hard body. He was covered in tattoos and scars, and I moaned softly as I trailed my fingers down his chest. Devin’s blue eyes were blazing lustful fire, and he leaned in close and kissed me passionately. I was clad only in my panties and garter belt, and I barely felt the fabric of my thong rip as Devin pulled it away from my body, leaving me naked.

Devin walked into the shower and turned on the water. Hot water streamed out of the four showerheads on the ceiling. He pulled me into the shower, shoving me up against the cold tiled wall. The combination of the cool marble behind my back and the hot water streaming down my face was intensified by Devin’s muscular, strong touch. He stripped out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them both to the floor. His cock bobbed free, and I almost gasped when I saw how beautiful he was. I hadn’t had a good chance to look at him while we had been in the Camaro, but now I saw that he was incredibly well-endowed. His nine-inch cock protruded in front of his body as he walked towards me with savage lust written clearly on his face. As our lips met, I moaned softly into his mouth and pulled Devin under the spray of the water.

Devin growled into my neck. I shuddered as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the wall and into the spray of the water. Every cell, every nerve in my body was tingling with pleasure as we kissed. Wrapping my leg around Devin’s thigh, I pulled my body close to his. The water beating down on our heads was hot but not as hot as his body. I kissed him softly, sucking on his lower lip and squealing into his mouth as I felt his hands slide down my soaked back. When Devin squeezed my ass, a spray of pleasure went through my body, and I groaned, grinding my pelvis against his muscular thigh.

“I want you,” Devin growled. “I want you in every room of this house, Katia. I want you to be mine.”

“You can have me,” I whispered. I closed my eyes and moaned as Devin lowered his head to my body and began covering my neck and chest with kisses. His rough beard scratched my delicate skin, and I groaned as I felt my already-sore nipples throb with a mixture of pleasure and agony.

Devin slid his wet fingers down my body. The water made for delicious friction between us, and I thrust my hips forward as he tangled his fingers in the small blonde patch of my pubic hair. Devin grinned at me and winked as he tugged the hair. Pleasure shot through my lower belly, and I gasped as the wet curls were pulled away from my skin. Devin slid his hand lower, between my legs, gently rubbing my labia with his thumb. I spread my legs, exposing my hard clit, and as Devin grazed it with a finger, I let out a wild moan of pleasure. Every time he brushed his hand over my pussy, I gasped and writhed against him. My legs were feeling weak and it was hard to stand, but I would have done anything to make Devin keep touching me.

“Please don’t stop,” I moaned softly. “Please take me!”

Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around Devin’s cock. He was hard and veiny, and I gasped a little as I began to pump him up and down. I felt his cock throbbing with pleasure, but every time I began to guide him closer to my body, Devin would pull away and grin sadistically.

“Not yet,” Devin growled. “I want you to beg.”

Suddenly and without warning, he scooped me up into his arms and pulled me close. I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperately trying to impale myself on his perfect manhood. Devin held me firmly as he turned off the shower and shoved me against the marble wall. The surface had warmed from the hot water and I closed my eyes as Devin nuzzled my neck. He bit into my shoulder, and I cried out in pleasure as red-hot lust seared through every inch of my body. I could barely see or feel or hear anything that wasn’t Devin and my own overwhelming desire. I was far from a virgin, but it had never been like this. Never in my life had I wanted someone to fuck me as much as I wanted Devin.

With a growl, Devin carried me out of the shower and down the hall. The cool air prickled my skin, and I moaned softly as he carried me into my bedroom and dropped me on the bed. Beneath my wet body, the silk sheets were chilly and soft. Devin crawled on top of me. He slapped the inside of my thigh, right over the garter.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Devin ordered. I nodded slowly. I could feel my cheeks were flushed with the heat of desire and the need flooding my body was becoming too overwhelming to ignore. As Devin positioned himself between my legs, he reached down and steadied himself with a hand on the bed.

When I felt the tip of Devin’s cock pressing against the entrance to my womanhood, I moaned softly. Pleasure shot through my body as he penetrated me, sliding deep into my slick pussy. My body felt like it would explode with pleasure as Devin slammed his hips against mine, burying himself to the hilt inside of me. For a moment, we stayed locked together, staring into each other’s blue eyes.

Then, Devin began to rock against me in a sensual rhythm that threatened to set me on fire. A tense burst of pleasure was building in my lower belly. With each thrust, Devin pushed against my hard clit. He shoved a hand between our bodies and gently rubbed me with his thumb as his cock slid in and out of my pussy. I could feel my muscles gripping him, could feel his own cock pulsing inside of me.

Sweat broke out over my body and despite the cool silk beneath us, I began to feel hotter than ever as we rocked our bodies together. I let out a wanton groan as Devin wrapped his hand around me and slid it down my body, squeezing my ass and gently probing my anus with his thumb. The nerve endings between my legs shook and rattled with ecstasy as Devin continued to touch me where no man had ever thought to touch me before. The combination of his thumb on my clit, his cock stroking my pussy, and his other finger rubbing my little asshole was enough to make me scream with delight. My whole body was filled with electrical shocks and bursts of pleasure as Devin picked up the rhythm. Skillfully, he pulled his hands away from my ass and wrapped my legs around his waist until I was riding him from the bottom. I began moving on the bed, thrusting up to meet his muscular abdomen as we rocked together like never before.

I’d never felt such passion, such blind yearning. Devin could have done anything to me and I would have liked it; I would have closed my eyes and begged for more. When I felt his body bucking against mine, I felt my muscles instinctively clench around him and began to hold my breath. Soon, the coil of pleasure in my belly was vibrating with warmth, and I let out a soft moan as my orgasm crested over me like a powerful tidal wave. The sensation was exquisite and intense. I felt like someone was gripping me between the legs with something that sent waves of delight through my whole body. As I felt myself coming and coming again, I buried my face in Devin’s neck and licked the salty flesh. He tasted musky, damp, sensual. He tasted like a man, like everything I’d ever wanted. As I bit his sensitive skin, Devin growled with lust. He bucked against me harder than before, and I felt his cock begin to pulse and gush inside of my pussy.

“Oh my God,” I moaned softly. I closed my eyes and we bucked and gasped and came together.

Devin untangled himself from my limbs and flopped down on the bed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and shot me a lazy, heartbreaking grin. Maybe it was the flood of hormones surging through my body, but I felt warmer towards him than ever before. As I pulled the sheet over our hips, I snuggled close. Devin didn’t push me away.

“This is wild,” Devin breathed. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. “I never fuckin’ thought I’d be here.”

I rolled onto my belly and stared at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Just…” Devin trailed off. “I’m worried about my club. I feel like I’m over here, having the time of my life, while my guys are worried about their lives.”

I frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“We ain’t making enough money,” Devin said. “The club – it helps guys who don’t have families. It gives them a home and some stability.”

“Why aren’t you making ends meet?”

Devin didn’t reply, and I sighed softly. I knew that he didn’t want to tell me, and I didn’t blame him. After all, it wasn’t any of my business.

“Tell me something about you,” Devin said. His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. The heavy curtains of my room blocked most of the light from outside, making me feel like night was falling even though I knew it wasn’t even noon.

I swallowed and licked my lips. “I had leukemia when I was a little girl,” I said softly. “That’s why I started doing pageants.”

Devin didn’t reply. He pulled me closer, pulling the sheet over my waist.

“Pageants made me feel beautiful,” I said. “Even though I was bald from the chemo and super skinny, wigs and makeup and padded clothes made me feel like a regular little girl. And I was good at it. That meant a lot to me. That’s why I kept doing it. Making myself feel beautiful was like a panacea. I could forget all about my cancer as long as I was out there winning prizes.” I blushed. “That sounds stupid, I bet. You probably think I’m a real idiot.”

Devin pulled me close and planted a kiss on the top of my head. My hair was still soaked from the shower, and the post-fuck hormones drifting through my veins were making me feel sleepy and content.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Devin said softly. He kissed the top of my head again, and I felt a touch of something warm blooming in my chest.

“Do you still think I’m a spoiled brat?” I almost feared the answer. My words hung in the dark room.

“No,” Devin said in a scratchy voice. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close until my head was resting on his chest. “I don’t think you’re a brat, Katia.”

Chapter Eleven

Katia

The next morning, I awoke before Devin. We’d fallen asleep, tangled in the silk sheets of my bed. My blackout curtains were drawn, and even though the light was as dull as it would have been in the late evening, I knew it was probably around nine or ten in the morning.

I’d always loved to sleep in. Back when I was growing up, my mom had always told me that sleeping in made me lazy, but I didn’t care. It was the one vice I’d maintained all through childhood. I wouldn’t have admitted this to anyone, except maybe Devin, but I was sure that going through leukemia at such a young age had something to do with it, too. After all, I could still close my eyes and remember what it felt like to have poisonous toxins flooding through my body. What they don’t tell you about cancer is that the treatment makes you wish you were already dead.

I yawned and stretched and curled up closer to Devin’s warm body. My air conditioning was pumping arctic air into the room since I could never sleep unless it was freezing, and Devin’s warm body was a comfort. I loved the way he smelled; even when he hadn’t smoked in a couple of days, I could still catch the faint whiff of tobacco clinging to his hair and clothes.

“Mmmn,” Devin groaned, but he didn’t wake as I slid my hand over his body and pulled him close. We snuggled, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, fitting myself against his back. I smiled to myself. Who would have guessed that cuddling Devin was one of life’s greatest pleasures? I’d never been much of a snuggler. I didn’t enjoy spending too much time with guys after sleeping together. It was usually awkward. After the passion and romance had died down, I had a hard time wanting to even look at them. I even had a routine going. After I’d have sex, I’d make some coffee and hint that I needed to get some sleep. Most guys didn’t take the hint so easily, though, so then I’d pour myself a big steaming mug and say that I had a lot of work to do.

That would usually do the trick. By the time my coffee had cooled to proper temperature, I’d be alone again.

I’d always been called a bitch, an ice queen, and a “frigid woman.” I didn’t exactly enjoy those nicknames, but I knew they were given for a reason. Sure, it went against what popular culture taught us: all women want is a snuggle and a cuddle and a giant engagement ring from Tiffany’s. I’d always been so focused on my career that snuggling up and wasting time with some random guy just didn’t appeal to me. I mean, we’d had sex. They’d made me come, they’d done their job. That was it. I didn’t want a boyfriend, at least, not unless Zac Efron magically became single and showed up at my front door wanting a date.

But now, unfortunately, I didn’t feel any of that unattachment. When I looked at Devin’s sleeping face, his big hooded eyes, his scruffy chin, I felt something strange and warm come to life beneath my breast. This wasn’t exactly a great thing, I knew. It was alien and strange. It also made me uncomfortable. What about Devin was pulling me in like this? Why wasn’t I just able to stand my ground and say ‘go away, I’m not interested’?

Because you are interested, a nasty little voice said in the back of my mind. You’re way too interested, and you want this guy around for the long haul.

I swallowed nervously. Lying here and worrying wasn’t going to fix anything. I knew that if I wanted to calm down, I’d have to go take a long hot shower. My eyes flicked over Devin as I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side. He was breathing very slowly and snoring softly, but he didn’t even stir as I climbed out of bed and wrapped a satin robe around my body.

Shivering, I walked to my bedroom door and slowly swung it open. As I walked down the hall, I half-expected Devin to leap out of bed and follow me. I was almost disappointed and surprised by the time I’d made it to the master bath without his heavy footfall behind me.

The shower was still damp from the day before. I grinned and blushed as I remembered the sensation of Devin’s rough hands trailing all over my body, making me feel more desirable than I’d ever felt before in my life. There was something about him, a certain rough way of his, that left me wet and wanting more. Even now, sore as I was, I couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be if Devin woke up and decided to surprise me in the shower.

Humming to myself, I plugged my iPod into the shower speakers and put on the newest Shakira album. The music energized and refreshed me, and soon I was dancing in the hot spray of water, soaping my body with one hand. I’d always loved the ritual of bathing. Something about it was almost as good as getting dressed up in a designer gown and having a professional do my make-up. In a way, it was therapy that a star like me craved, and right now was no exception. As I dipped my head under the rainforest spray, I closed my eyes and moaned softly as warm water soaked through my thick hair to my scalp. Rubbing shampoo into my hair, I groaned softly and massaged my head with my long fingers.

This was the point in my grooming ritual where I very nearly forgot about everyone but myself. But annoyingly enough, Devin was still on my mind. Damn! I thought as I rinsed my hair and reached for my professional leave-in treatment. Why the hell can’t I stop thinking about him?

My heart skipped a beat in my chest as I opened my eyes and massaged the conditioning treatment into my long, blonde locks. Something about my own touch on my scalp made me think of Devin’s hands on my body again, and before I knew it, I was starting to get wet. My lower belly clenched with arousal, and I felt my nipples stiffen under the soapy spray of water.

Now, I couldn’t wait to finish washing up. I rinsed my hair under the shower stream and stretched. Leaning against the wall, I placed my hands against the tile and braced my legs until my spine popped. I sighed and moaned as the feeling of exquisite release shook my body. It may not have been as good as being in bed with Devin, but it was definitely a close second.

I wrung my hair out and turned off the shower before grabbing a plush towel and wrapping it around my naked body. As I toweled my hair off, I reached forward and wiped the foggy mirror with my hand. I frowned at my appearance. Something about the way I looked with wet hair had never felt particularly satisfying to me, especially when I wasn’t wearing any makeup. I remembered that once I’d done a shoot for Sports Illustrated, and they’d put me in a bright bikini with tons of eyeliner and dampened my hair. I’d cringed when I’d seen the results. I didn’t look hot at all, more like a drowned mess who badly needed a blowout.

But Devin won’t care, I thought. A secret smile played across my lips as I thought about the way he’d looked at me the first time he’d ever seen me naked. The hunger in his eyes had been the most obvious, sexy thing in the world. I realized that I’d always wanted a man to look at me like that, but even though a lot of men did, it hadn’t ever felt fulfilling until I’d met Devin.

I shook excess water out of my hair and rolled my eyes. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. I was being stalked! Yet, all I could think about was Devin. His smoky dark eyes. The way his scruff clung to his chin. The way his big strong hands moved over my body with confidence and ease.

I sighed softly. There was no doubt about it. I was a goner.

I peeked into my bedroom and let out a little sigh when I saw Devin curled up in my silky bed. The blackout curtains were still doing a good job of keeping all the excess light away, but I could make out Devin’s outline. He was lying on his side with his head under a pillow, snoring softly, his arm wrapped tightly over his face. I grinned. It was so cute; he looked like a little kid. I made a mental note to ask him about why he slept with a pillow over his head like that. The first time I’d seen him do it, I was worried that he was going to somehow suffocate. But now, I was used to it.

My insides felt all hot and fluttery as I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. Devin’s snoring paused briefly, then continued. I smiled as I let my towel drop to the floor and tucked my feet up underneath me. The silk sheet was cool, and a musky scent was emanating from the bed and my grin grew wider as I recognized it as the smell of Devin and myself together.

Devin grunted in his sleep. He rolled over, keeping his face tucked under the pillow. I’d been planning to seduce him immediately, but I couldn’t bear the thought of waking him up now that I was actually back in bed. As I tugged the sheet over my hips, I wrapped an arm around Devin’s waist and pulled him close. He snuggled against me without waking. I closed my eyes and put my face against the back of his neck. Breathing in Devin’s scent was enough to relax me; it was better than taking a Xanax.

For a few moments, I thought I was close to falling asleep again. I sighed softly and snuggled closer into the mattress. My wet hair was starting to feel uncomfortably chilly and I wriggled my head around on the pillow, trying to find a comfortable spot when the damp wasn’t pressed against my scalp.

Suddenly, there was a buzzing. With a groan, I sat up and clapped a hand to my forehead. My phone was on the nightstand, plugged into the charger and twitching like a fish. If I didn’t make a grab for it, it was going to clatter onto the floor and surely wake Devin up. As quickly as I could, I launched myself to the right and grabbed my phone from the charger. Without looking at the screen, I slid my finger over the lock and held the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I said quietly. “Anya, you know you shouldn’t be calling me this early! I hate being woken up!”

I expected my assistant, Anya Bellaire, to respond with a snappy comeback. Even though Anya and I had been working together for years, we still got on each other’s nerves. We were closer than sisters, but we never forgot about our professional relationship, which did sometimes make things awkward. I knew Anya loved me, and she’d probably just forgotten about the rule. After all, most adults don’t sleep until eleven in the morning every day.

“Anya?” I hissed when there was no reply. “What the hell? Did you pocket dial me again?” I rolled my eyes and pulled the phone away from my ear. My stomach lurched to the side as I tapped the screen.

It wasn’t Anya. It was the same unknown number; the same asshole who had been harassing me before. With a nervous gulp, I pulled the phone closer to my ear.

“I just want you to know that this is unacceptable,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “In fact, my bodyguard is here, and he’s going to hurt you unless you leave me alone.”

Puffing out my chest in pride at how I’d handled the situation, I smirked and waited for an answer. It was probably nothing. Probably just some little kid who wanted attention. I half-expected a whiny voice to complain before hanging up. But there was still silence. I swallowed nervously; something about the silence made me feel even more nervous than I would have been with a response.

I swallowed. “Hello?”

A sound made me jump. I almost dropped the phone into my lap. Instead, I held my breath and listened quietly to the earpiece.

There was the sound of breathing – heavy, labored breathing. Like someone had been carrying heavy boxes up three flights of stairs, someone who hadn’t worked out in over a year. I gasped sharply and hung up, dropping the iPhone into my lap with a cry of fear.

Devin was awake immediately. He’d thrown the pillow to the side and his dark blue eyes were alert and focused. He didn’t look like he’d just woken up; he looked like he’d just gotten out of a fight, breathing hard and ready to defeat his attacker.

“Katia!” Devin’s voice thundered. “What the hell happened?”

I swallowed nervously and stared at him. My wet hair clung to the back of my neck, and I was aware for the first time since coming into bed that I was nude. But Devin wasn’t even looking at my chest; his eyes were locked to my own, staring me down. If I hadn’t been completely and totally panicked, the attention would have been enough to make me blush.

“Katia, what the fuck?” Devin asked softly. “Did he call again?”

I nodded, glancing down at my lap and staring at my iPhone. It was hard to believe such an innocuous, beautiful little object could cause so much stress and alarm.

“Yeah,” I mumbled softly. “I was in the shower, and I’d just come back to bed.” Nervously, I grabbed my phone and flicked through the missed calls. “He didn’t call when I was out of bed,” I added. Licking my lips, I threw my phone to the side. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “Devin, what the hell is going on? Why won’t he leave me alone?”

Devin didn’t reply. He pulled me into a hug and wrapped his strong arms around my body. “Katia, he’s a sick man,” Devin said. “But we’re going to keep you safe.” He pulled away, and I realized that he had an erection under the sheets. But all of my desire that had built up during my shower was fading away, and I knew that I couldn’t try to seduce him now. It wouldn’t work. He was clearly focused on my stalker, and I was too freaked out from that damn stupid phone call.

Devin climbed out of bed. I admired the sculpted cheeks of his ass as he pulled on a pair of plaid pajama pants. They hung tantalizingly low on his body, showing off just enough of his hips to make me want more. I blushed when Devin caught my glance.

“Hey,” Devin said. “Come on, Katia. Let’s go make breakfast. Hell, I’ll do it. You want an omelet?”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You know how to make omelets?”

Devin looked wounded. “Baby, of course I do,” he said smoothly. A burst of warmth rocketed through my veins at the way he said ‘baby.’

“What?” Devin asked. “You’re staring.”

“It’s nothing,” I said with a smirk. I walked over to my dresser, knowing that even though sex wasn’t in the cards for the immediate future, Devin’s eyes were clinging to my naked frame.

“Bullshit it is,” Devin retorted. “What’s on your mind?” I glanced over at him, and he was still smirking at me. “Tell me, Katia,” Devin said. “It might pertain to your safety, in which case it’s abso-fucking-lutely my business.”

“It’s nothing about that,” I said. I pulled a pink satin peignoir from the dresser and wrapped it around my body. “It’s just – well – I used to hate being called babe.”

“Should I stop?” Devin leaned against the doorway and crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “Is it something that really bothers you that much?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I actually – well, I actually kind of like it now.” I sniffed. “I used to bite guys’ heads off just for calling me that, and now it’s like…” I trailed off, blushing. “It’s like I want to hear that in your voice all day. I just really like it.”

Devin smirked. “Come on, babe,” he said. “Time for omelets.”

Twenty minutes later, I was staring down at the crystal plate in disbelief. A perfectly fluffy and folded omelet rested in front of me.

“I didn’t even know I had eggs on hand,” I mumbled as I reached for my fork. “Are you serious?”

Devin smirked. “I have to cook for the guys sometimes,” he said. “Y’know, back at the clubhouse.”

“You cook omelets for your bike buddies?” I covered my mouth with my hand so Devin wouldn’t hear me giggling. “That’s too much. Do you guys sit around with cute little linen napkins, too?”

Devin rolled his eyes. “Eat your damn breakfast before it gets cold.” I watched as he liberally dribbled hot sauce all over his omelet before daintily cutting a piece away with a shining-silver fork.

“This is good.” I chewed and swallowed, savoring the rich taste of cheese and butter. Devin had included some sautéed mushrooms and peppers, and that along with the tangy scent of cheddar was enough to make me drool even though I’d already started eating. He’d even garnished the top with a fresh sprig of parsley. The whole damn thing was incredible. I couldn’t believe it. I was even scraping the plate for traces of butter and cheese when I was done.

Devin grinned as he reached down and took my plate. “So, you liked it?”

I tried to keep from begging him immediately for a second omelet. “I loved it.” I groaned and looked down at my lap. “And my thighs already look bigger!”

Devin chuckled. He set the plates in the sink and began rinsing off the grease. “And I used real butter, too. You’re gonna have to starve for a week in order to make up for eating that.”

I sat up straighter in my dining room chair. “Well, that’s fine,” I said. “I don’t mind. It was worth it.”

“Maybe later, I can make dinner,” Devin said. He frowned. “I gotta make a call,” he said. “I’ll be right in the dining room. Just stay here, okay?”

I nodded. As he left the room, I felt a small wave of panic wash over my body. I shivered. I knew I was being ridiculous, but with Devin around, I just felt so much safer. It was crazy to admit that I felt alone after he’d merely left the room.

You’re really losing it, I thought as I glared down at my hands in my lap. Next thing you know, you’re gonna tell him that you want him to move in full-time.

Devin’s voice was low and gravelly from the dining room. I couldn’t understand him very well, but I had a feeling he was talking to someone from his club. My heart sank as I heard his commands become more serious with each passing second. I knew that this situation wasn’t sustainable; after all, it wasn’t like Devin was hanging around because he wanted to. I was a job, a virtual package. I was the reason he was getting paid and the reason he’d be able to help his club. I swallowed as I remembered our conversation from the other night: Devin wasn’t here because he wanted to be. It was just because I was paying him more than any of the other guarding gigs available.

After what felt like an eternity, Devin joined me once again in the kitchen. We sat down at the table in my breakfast nook.

“So, what was that all about?” I leaned forward and crossed my arms, pushing my breasts together into a nice cleavage. “You were on the phone for a while. You never struck me as much of a chatty guy before now.”

Devin shook his head. It was clear that my jokes weren’t going to work on him at the moment. “I called Troy, my right-hand guy,” he said. “I told him that he really needs to work on finding out who this asshole is.”

“Oh,” I said softly. “Do you think he’ll find out soon?”

Devin got up from his chair and walked around the table. He pulled me into his arms and stroked my hair. “I don’t know, babe,” Devin said. The sensation of his hot breath against my neck was enough to send shivers down my body.

“But you’re staying?”

“I can’t leave you now,” Devin said. My heart leapt. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to confess to having feelings for me. “You know I couldn’t do that, Katia. I can’t leave you alone and vulnerable. That’s not fair to you, not until we find out who this asshole is.”

“Oh,” I said softly. “Devin, I’m scared. I really thought that everything was over now. Things have been so quiet for the past few days.” I groaned in his arms as Devin pulled me closer, pressing his groin against my hips. He wasn’t hard, but I could feel his cock through the thin pajama pants and it was all I could do not to shove my hand down stroke him until he was rock hard.

“I know, babe,” Devin said. He kissed the top of my head. “But I’ll stay here until you’re safe. You don’t have to worry about anything bad happening. I’m right here next to you.”

I nodded. I didn’t feel safe; I felt numb. I knew that I shouldn’t want someone stalking and harassing me, but as soon as it was over, Devin would be gone. I wondered whether or not I’d feel safe after all of this was over. Just because it happened once didn’t mean that it couldn’t happen again, and suddenly I had a flash of fear. What if I spent my whole life falling in love with unavailable men just because they were guarding me?

Devin slipped his fingers under my chin and tilted it up until my eyes were staring right at his. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, and I moaned softly as Devin crushed my head to his. Our lips met. His tasted like butter and salt, and slowly, Devin slipped his tongue into my mouth. The sensation of his body against mine and his mouth on my own made me weak in the knees. I closed my eyes and felt them roll back into my head as Devin nibbled on my lower lip and stroked my tongue with his own. He was such an incredible kisser. So desperate, so hungry.

Like he really needs me, I thought as I kissed Devin back with equal ardor.

Devin wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me gently into the air. I wrapped my legs around his strong, muscular abdomen. As he carried me into the bedroom, I was barely aware of moving through time and space. Being held in Devin’s arms was the most comforting feeling in the world. It wasn’t even being safe; it was more like being completely tucked away and hidden from the world. It was like Devin and I were the only two people left alive, and we somehow had to nourish our connection, make it grow by loving each other.

Devin set me down on the bed with a gentle thud. I tangled my hands in his unruly dark hair and tugged his head close to mine. My lips felt raw, flayed in the cool air of the bedroom before Devin’s hot mouth plastered itself against my own. As he climbed on top of me, my back crushed against the silk of the sheets. They’d cooled since we’d woken up together, but now I could feel the material heating underneath my body with the intense passion that swarmed around Devin and me.

“Mm, God,” I moaned softly into Devin’s mouth. He sucked on my lower lip, sending sensational thrills through my body, and slid his hands down my silky lingerie. My breasts sprang to life at his touch, and I felt my nipples grow stiff and sensitive as Devin brushed against them through the fabric of my peignoir. He knew exactly how to touch me. His touch was both rough and gentle, – and I closed my eyes and arched my back as Devin’s hands glided over my stomach and between my thighs.

“You’re so sexy,” Devin growled. He leaned closer and nipped at my neck. Then he slowly began to suck in a tantalizing way that filled my body with erotic fireworks. I knew I should push him away because I’d have a big hickey if I didn’t, but the sensation was too pleasurable. I began to writhe and twist against Devin’s body. He gripped both of my wrists with one of his large hands and pinned them over my head until my fingers were grazing the headboard. As Devin spread my legs with his free hand, he crawled in between them and pressed a knee against my silk-covered labia. I moaned loudly and threw my head back. My wet hair clung to my forehead in unruly strands but for once, I no longer cared about what I looked like. Devin lowered his face to my chest. He nuzzled my stiff nipples through the pink silk and I groaned, desperately wanting him to take the aroused flesh into his mouth. Finally, he began gently sucking one of my hard nipples through the thin silk of my peignoir. It felt incredible. Tiny fireworks exploded between my legs as Devin continued to gently rub his knee against my crotch while sucking on my nipple.

Straining against his grip, I tried to move my arms, but Devin held me firm. I had the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, enhanced by the fact I couldn’t move at all. Instead, I groaned and shifted my hips against his body. I wanted more, more, more – I wanted all of Devin. I wanted him to fill me with his cock, to cum inside of me until he was drained and dry and exhausted. Growling with lust, I finally managed to free my wrists from Devin’s grasp. Reaching down, I slid my fingers down the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled them away from his skin.

When I saw his hard cock, I gasped again. He was so beautiful. He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, clothed or naked. Naked, he looked like a statue of a Greek god. His flesh was like sculpted marble, like the finest and most costly material in the world. As I slid my hands down his perfectly muscled torso, Devin groaned softly in the back of his throat. The sound was just enough to jolt my arousal into overdrive, and I tangled my fingers in his pubic hair and gently tugged until he’d crawled closer between my legs.

I smirked up at Devin as I slid my hands down my body and parted my silk peignoir. As he pressed the head of his hard erection against my soaking labia, I moaned and arched my back. I wrapped my legs around Devin’s waist to pull his cock inside of my pussy. I was so wet that there was already a massive wet spot underneath of me on the silk, and Devin’s cock felt so good. As he slid inside of me, he let out a loud moan of delight.

Devin leaned over my body. He was breathing hard, and I could feel his chest heaving with the effort of his arousal. As he moved against me, his cock slid all the way inside until he was buried to the hilt. I moaned and squirmed; the sensation was overwhelming and incredible. I could barely breathe as Devin began to pulse his hips on top of me, gliding in and out of my soaked pussy with incredible ease.

After a few seconds, I felt my own breath begin to catch. Tightening my grip around Devin’s waist, I pressed my hips against his and began to rock my body in the same slick, sensual rhythm. We moved together like a well-oiled machine, Devin pumping in and out of me like a piston. His cock filled me so perfectly that it seemed as though we had been designed for each other. As Devin tangled his fingers in my hair and yanked my neck back, I let out a shuddering moan. His hot lips and tongue found a sensitive spot on my neck, and I cried out with pleasure as his tongue swirled warmly over my skin.

The room was soon filled with the heated, musky perfume of lovemaking. I closed my eyes and breathed in it, savoring the scent of Devin and myself together. His fingers found my nipples and began toying with them; as he pinched one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, I grunted softly and cried out. The sensations that filled my body were so incredible that I could barely stand it. I was having trouble breathing. Somehow, holding oxygen in my chest made the delightful fireworks between my legs seem all the more powerful, but I gritted my teeth and ground my hips against Devin’s frame with all of my might.

Suddenly, Devin pulled away. Before I could ask what had happened, he dug his fingers into my hip and flipped me over on the bed. Devin slapped the insides of my thighs, and eagerly, I spread my legs again. As Devin mounted my thighs, his soaked cock slid inside me. I gasped at the sensation of being taken from behind; it was somehow even stronger than when I’d been lying on my back, seconds before. Devin tightened his grip around the back of my neck and furiously fucked me as we bounced together on the bed. My face was buried in his pillow, and I bit the pillow to stifle the moans as Devin’s fingers slid around to the front of my body. Seconds later, I felt his strong grip rubbing my clit.

It was too much to bear. I held my breath until I thought I was going to explode from lack of air. The delicious exploding pangs in my lower belly reached an all-time high, and I let out a loud wail into the silk pillowcase as my fierce orgasm began to tear through my body. Devin could feel it, too. He was shuddering and bucking on top of me, his cock pulsating with the force of his own perfect climax.

I’d had orgasms before, but nothing like this. It was even better than the last time Devin, and I had slept together. Our bodies moved in a furious rhythm, milking each other of all energy and lust. I groaned in delight as I felt Devin’s cock spasm once more inside of me. As he pulled out, I shivered on the silken sheets.

Devin rolled me onto my side, using my hipbones as a handlebar. “Hey,” he said. He smirked at me. “That was incredible.”

I licked my lips; they were salty with my sweat, and the remains of breakfast. A thick musk hung heavy in the air, and I breathed in, saving each moment.

“It was,” I said softly. I could feel that my face was hot and flushed. My heart was still thumping in my chest, and I was shaking from the insanely powerful orgasm that had just ripped through my body like a hurricane through a small beach town.

“What’s wrong?” Devin frowned. He ran a hand through his dark hair, making it stand on end. I giggled. He looked so silly like that, even with his dozens of biker tattoos. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded. “I need to talk to Anya,” I said. “You think I could go out to lunch with her?”

Devin’s frown grew deeper. “That’s not a good idea,” he said. “Come on, Katia. You know that. Don’t be stupid.”

“I feel better,” I insisted. It wasn’t exactly a lie because I did feel much better about everything after having such amazing sex with Devin. But now I was worried about something else entirely, and it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with Devin.

“I don’t give a shit if you feel better,” Devin said. His tone was infuriatingly calm, and suddenly I felt a hot burst of anger explode in my chest. “My job is to make sure that you stay in one piece, and I don’t know how sure of a deal that is if you plan on goin’ out all the fucking time.”

“What the hell?” I stood up and put my hands on my naked hips. The chill air in the room was enough to make my nipples grow hard once more, but I knew I had to ignore the way Devin was looking at my body or else things would be even worse. “You can’t control me, Devin!”

“I know,” Devin said. He licked his lips. “God help the man who tries to control you.” He smiled with his mouth, but his eyes stared hard and angry. “What the hell is so important about seeing Anya right now, anyway?”

I frowned. “I have a very important schedule, you know,” I said. I walked over to my dressed and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater. Without putting on panties or a bra, I slid the jeans over my hips and buttoned them smoothly over my flat tummy. Devin’s eyes didn’t leave my body as I pulled the sweater over my head and smoothed my still-damp tangled of blonde hair.

Devin rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Call her and set something up. I’ll stand guard outside while you eat.”

I blinked. I hadn’t actually expected him to agree. Even though that was exactly what I’d wanted to hear, it hurt somehow. It made me think that Devin didn’t even care. It reminded me that I was just a job to him.

A job and a warm hole, I thought as I wrapped my arms tightly around the sweater covering my abdomen. And that’s all I’ll ever be.

With Devin’s eyes still watching me, I picked up my phone and dialed Anya. Bless her, she answered on the first ring.

“Katia? Is everything okay?”

I nodded, forgetting temporarily that Anya wasn’t in the room to see me. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Hey, do you feel like getting a coffee?”

“Right now?”

“I have to talk to you,” I said. “It’s important.”

“Don’t you just want me to come over there? I have some things for you anyway. Katia, you’ll need to go through your closets and pick out some things to donate. Remember, the Youth Charity auction is coming up! Last year, those shoes you wore in the Vogue photo-shoot landed over three hundred thousand dollars, remember?”

I had to laugh. Anya’s excitement, though not infectious, reminded me again how great at her job she was.

“Okay,” I said. “I mean, coffee first. Then maybe you can come over, and we’ll pick out some stuff for the auction, okay?”

“Okay.” Anya paused. “I’m downtown. Feel like meeting me at The Coffee Shack?”

“I’ll be there,” I said dryly. “See you in twenty.”

Chapter Twelve

Katia

I paced nervously back and forth inside of The Coffee Shack waiting for Anya. Devin was standing guard outside not even trying to look discreet. He had one hand clapped to the gun holster at his side, and he was prowling around like he owned the place. I licked my dry lips as he crossed from one corner of the street to the other.

“Hi!” I turned around to see Anya standing there, breathless and holding about a million packages. She set them down on the floor, then cried cramming them under the table where I’d sat with my most recent designer handbag purchase.

“Hi,” I said. “How are you?”

Anya frowned. She wiped her hand against her forehead and sighed. Her brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and the only makeup she wore was a swipe of terracotta lipstick on her mouth.

“I’m not great,” Anya said “Look, Katia, there’s something we have to talk about.”

“I know.” I nodded. “That’s exactly why I called you here.”

Anya frowned. “I’m not sure you understand,” she said. I stared at her. What the hell was going on? Was my personal assistant suddenly my personal psychic?

“Okay,” I said nervously. “What did you want to talk about? Besides the charity auction, of course.”

Anya rifled through her oversized cloth purse and handed me a folder. “This came this morning,” she said. “Someone left it on the seat of my car when I was out earlier getting coffee.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Devin was still there, strolling around with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Between his oversized, mirrored sunglasses and his trucker cap, I could barely read his expression. As I watched, he took out a cigarette from a silver case in his hip pocket and lit it with a butane lighter. I frowned again. He was trying too hard to be casual. Was it possible that somehow he was actually nervous?

“So, what is it?”

Anya slid the folder over towards me. She bit her lower lip, her brown eyes trembling. “Katia, what the hell is going on with you and Devin?”

“Nothing, nothing,” I said. I slid my fingernail under the seal of clear tape holding the folder shut. A couple of glossy photographs fell into my lap once the folder had opened, and I felt my jaw drop as I pulled one of the pictures closer examining it with hawk eyes.

It was a photo of Devin and myself. Well, to be precise, a photo of us in bed. In my bed. It was from this morning because I could see my lingerie from the night before spread out over the carpet. Devin and I were both naked, and a flash of my breast was visible in the corner of the photo. The room was dark, but the photo was strangely illuminated, almost as if someone had used a flash or lightened it in Photoshop.

“What the hell?” I said softly. My hand holding the photo had begun to shake so badly that I dropped the glossy sheet of paper in my lap. “What is this, Anya?”

Anya crossed her arms over her round chest. Suddenly, she looked much more like a matronly aunt than my close friend and personal assistant. Anya was a little older than me, mid-thirties to my twenty-seven, and right now, she looked every inch of those years.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Anya hissed under her breath. “Katia, I can’t believe you! What the hell have you been doing?”

I licked my lips. “That’s none of your business,” I said loftily. Inside, my heart sank as I realized I wouldn’t exactly be able to tell Anya how I felt about Devin. Not now, not when she was condemning me for having a relationship with him. Furthermore, I was terrified. I felt icy cold from the tips of my fingers and my toes all the way inside my chest. My heart was beating slowly like a wrecking ball swinging into an old house.

“Katia, I know this is scary,” Anya said. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “But you have to deal with this.”

“I’m trying!” I wrapped my fingers around my mug of sugar-free hot cocoa, desperately trying to get the blood pumping. It wasn’t even cold inside of the coffee shop, but I felt like I was going to freeze into a huge block of ice just trying to listen to Anya. Outside, Devin was prowling back and forth. I noticed that he was getting a lot of stares, especially admiring ones from girls passing back and forth. I rolled my eyes. Part of me wanted to run outside and pull him into a deep, passionate kiss, but the other part of me wanted to go outside and tell him that we were done and that we’d never be intimate again.

“How was this taken?” In an effort to distract myself, I picked the photo up from my lap and stared at it as clinically as I could. “They must have used a serious lens to get this kind of image.”

“That’s the thing,” Anya said. I glanced up, and though I couldn’t be sure, somehow her voice seemed to grow shakier as she spoke. “Katia, I don’t think they were taken from outside your condo.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I think they were taken from the inside of the house,” Anya said softly. She plucked the photo from my hands and stared at it. “Katia, someone had access to your home.”

The panic I’d been feeling very quickly turned to dread.

“And all of that aside, Katia, what the hell are you thinking sneaking around with Devin like this?” Anya glared at me. She tucked the photo back into the folder and slipped it inside her purse. I groaned inwardly; the way she was chastising me was making me feel like I was her child and she was my mother.

“I’m not sneaking around with him,” I said. My voice sounded as petulant as a child’s, too. “I’m doing everything I can to stay safe.”

Anya raised her eyebrows. “By sleeping with him? You’re an adult, and even though you’re used to being spoiled, you know it’s not always possible for you to get your way.”

“What the hell are you saying?” I was so offended that for a moment that I was tempted to stand up and walk right out of there. “Are you calling me stupid and immature?”

“Katia, I just know that you’re not exactly used to dealing with all of this heavy stuff.” Anya sighed. “I’m not trying to insult you – God, I hope you’d know me better than that!”

“It feels like I’m being attacked,” I said in a small voice. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Anya.”

“Well, I don’t know how to keep helping you if you keep sleeping with the help!”

I glared at her. “Devin is not the help,” I said. I reached down and took a sip of my cocoa, barely tasting it as I swallowed. The words I’d just said stuck in my mouth. I realized how snobby it sounded; to even use the phrase ‘the help’ was probably one of the worst things I’d done in the past decade.

“So?” Anya rolled her eyes. “Katia, you’ve spent years building this image. You know what you are to your public. They need to see you as a single beauty queen, independent and always having fun.” She shook her head bitterly. “And if you keep sleeping with random guys, that’s really going to ruin your image.”

I stared. “I’m twenty-seven,” I said slowly. “Don’t you think I should be allowed to have some fun now and then?”

“It’s not about what I think.”

I winced. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew Anya was right. Deep down, she didn’t give a shit whether or not I was sleeping with my bodyguard. But she had to care because I had to care because my public had to care.

“I’ve slept with other guys,” I said, skirting the issue. “And you didn’t mind then!”

“Well, some of those guys were famous in their own right,” Anya replied. “Jeremy Jones – he’s an A-list movie star! And even Colton Todd is a big name in the comedy world now. It did loads for your reputation to be able to date those men.”

“We weren’t dating,” I told her honestly. “We were just sleeping together.” I wrinkled my nose. “Especially Colton, God, who’d want to date him? He’s a total pig!” I cringed at the memory of Colton Todd. We’d met two years ago, at a benefit for the Disabled Youth of Los Angeles. I’d been so charmed by him. He wasn’t conventionally handsome was about a foot shorter than me, but he’d been so funny and sweet that I’d immediately accepted his dinner invitation. We’d only been on one date before having really raunchy sex in the back of his SUV. Our little affair had only lasted a couple of weeks, but I’d enjoyed every dirty second. At least, I’d enjoyed it before Colton had mentioned me in a stand-up special. He’d called me frigid, and joked about needing to melt the ice off his dick before he could go out with another girl.

I’d been so hurt that I’d cried for a week, but Anya had convinced me that it was for the best. “After all,” she said. “You wouldn’t want him to get out there and talk about how you were good in bed. That would have been even worse!”

I hated it. There was nothing more frustrating than living in LA as a single woman and watching men have all the fun. Men got to do everything they wanted; eat a ton of food in public, get wasted at LA’s hottest bars, and sleep around with models, actresses, and beauty queens like myself. It wasn’t fair. It was the twenty-first century, and women couldn’t do any of that stuff without getting called slutty or fat or lazy or even worse, desperate.

I’d been called a lot of things in my life, but thankfully, desperate had never been one of them.

“I just don’t see why I can’t act like a single woman,” I said as I picked listlessly at a scone that Anya had pushed in front of me. I frowned. “Is this gluten-free? You know I’m trying to stay on that diet.”

“That’s another thing, Katia,” Anya said. “You’re looking a little puffy.” She reached out and touched me on the cheek. “Have you been eating dairy again?”

The memory of perfect omelets in the kitchen flashed back into my mind and I groaned. “It was just once,” I said. “I had to make an exception. Devin cooked for me this morning.”

Anya’s jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Are you kidding me?” She frowned. “Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“Why?” I took a bigger bite of the scone, savoring the taste of sugar-crusted blueberries on my tongue. “What’s so weird about that?” I snorted. “I eat other people’s cooking all the time.” I raised my eyebrows at her. “It’s not so strange. Remember, we haven’t been able to find another chef who would do Paleo and gluten free.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she repeated. She licked her lips. “Devin cooked breakfast for you. And you think that’s normal?”

I swallowed hard. Suddenly, I didn’t like where this was going. I felt dangerously close to revealing my true feelings to Anya. Sure, it was the reason why I’d wanted to meet up with her in the first place, but now I couldn’t tell her. At least, I didn’t want to tell her.

“I do,” I said. Shifting in my seat, I tried to look as casual as possible while glancing over my shoulder to see what Devin was doing outside. “I mean, it’s normal for us.”

“Us?” Anya repeated, making finger quotes in the air as she spoke. “Katia, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m really worried about you.” Her forehead creased. She sighed, ripping out her ponytail with a savage hand and twining the rubber band between her fingers. “This isn’t like you at all. You’re not usually the kind of girl who forms attachments like that!”

“Well, this is different,” I sniffed. “I know it’s just temporary. But I like him, Anya.”

“You like him?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course I do,” I said. “He’s grown on me.”

Anya shook her head. “Katia, I don’t think that’s the way this is playing out at all. It’s not just about you liking him. You want more, don’t you?”

I sighed. I hated the way she could read me like a book. Our interactions had always been like this; it was typical for Anya to anticipate my needs before I could even bring them up myself. I’d always appreciated this in the past, but right now I couldn’t deal. It was too much.

“I like him a lot,” I added quickly. “But that’s all it is.” I huffed as I looked out the window and caught a particularly beautiful young blonde girl checking out Devin’s ass as she walked by. He didn’t even notice, but I knew it was only a matter of time. He was a red-blooded man, the kind of guy who’d notice every single woman who walked past. I knew he was distracted because of the phone call that morning.

When I thought about telling him of the photographs, I cringed. Deep down, I worried that Devin wouldn’t want to put his hands on me again after knowing just how much danger we’d both be in. Thinking about it made me start to sweat all over again. Someone had broken into my condo and photographed me while I was sleeping.

“Are you sure?” Anya leaned forward and pulled the rest of the scone from my hands. I stared at her. I’d lost my appetite, anyway. Between thinking about a stalker sneaking around in my bedroom and Anya’s obvious disdain for me at the moment, I wanted to go bury my head in the sand beneath the Santa Monica pier.

“No,” I said. I leaned back in my chair and pulled my Gucci sunglasses down from my head. Wearing them made me feel like I had a little bit of armor, at least. Still, I felt like Anya could see right through whatever attempts I was making at being casual.

Anya rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought,” she mumbled. “Katia, this is the absolute last thing we need to be dealing with right now.” She shook her head. “Imagine how it’s going to feel when you have to fire Devin because he won’t stop coming on to you. I knew this was a bad idea. We should have hired someone from a firm, instead of a freelance guard like Devin. Those bikers are all the same.”

“What?” I wrinkled my nose at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Katia, I would have thought that was obvious by now,” Anya said slowly. “Devin’s growing too fond of you, and you obviously indulged him.” She tapped the envelope resting on the table containing the photographs of Devin and me in bed together. “And now you’re going to have to let him go.”

My heart was clanging in my chest. I wanted to be real with Anya, to tell her the truth about what was really going on. On the other hand, I could have burst out laughing. Of course, Anya would have made the assumption that Devin was obsessed with me, not the other way around. I’d never shown that much interest in a guy before, not even Colton Todd. Ever since I’d been a teenager, I’d had to deal with excessive attention from men, and my parents, then my handlers, and now Anya had all coached me in how to appear perfectly disinterested in whomever was trying to court me.

“The thing is,” I said slowly. “It’s not exactly Devin who’s the problem right now.” I crossed my legs at the ankle and shifted in my seat. “It’s me,” I added after the longest pause of my life. “It’s me, Anya.”

“What do you mean?” Anya glared. “Have you been leading him on?”

“No!” The words practically exploded from my mouth so loudly that the people at the next table looked over. I sighed and let my forehead rest against my hand. They were still staring when I looked back up, but a glare from Anya had them quickly blushing and turning back around.

“Well then, what have you been doing, exactly?”

“I think I’m in love with him.” Blood rushed to the surface of my cheeks and I stared at the floor, waiting for Anya’s inevitable rebuke. “I mean, I really think I love him.”

“Katia” Anya was shaking her head. “You don’t know what love is.”

“What?” I squinted, letting my sunglasses slide down the bridge of my nose until they were almost hanging off my face.

“I mean,” Anya said quickly, blushing as well. She flipped her brown hair over one shoulder and furiously knotted it up again in an elastic band. “You’ve never had a real relationship, Katia. And dating in LA, well, it’s not exactly like dating anywhere else.”

“You think I don’t know how to love because I live in LA? Ouch.” Anya’s accusation stung almost as much as the thought that Devin would be glad to get rid of me after all this stalker business was resolved.

“It’s not that,” Anya said quickly. “It’s just, well, Katia, Men are different here. You might think you love Devin, sure, because you’ve spent so much time with him recently. He’s seen you without make-up,” she pointed out. “That’s not like you at all. I bet you’re just hung up on him because you feel so comfortable around him.”

I blinked. “I really do love him.” My voice was quiet. For a moment, I wasn’t even sure that Anya had heard me. Then she looked up at me with a sad smile on her face.

“Katia, you can’t get into a relationship right now.” She swallowed a sip of her latte and set the cup down with a thud on the table. I got the sense that Anya was holding back from me – just a little bit, but still. It was enough to make me regret coming here at all.

“Why?”

“I’ve already told you,” Anya said. “You’re everyone’s girl-next-door in LA. You can’t go ruining that.”

I swallowed. “Anya, I’m twenty-seven,” I said softly. “I can’t stay single forever. What about when I want to get married and start a family?”

Anya snorted. “Honey, this is LA. Reality check, it doesn’t happen for most women until they’re in their forties, and you can freeze your eggs. Lots of women do that.” Anya eyed me over the tops of her wireless glasses. “And Katia, really, it’s not like you’d want a baby any time soon. You’re too young. It’d ruin your figure.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “It wasn’t ever something that I thought I wanted,” I told her. “But I don’t know. Being with Devin is making me question everything.”

“Oh, God,” Anya said. She slapped her forehead. “Don’t even start, Katia. I haven’t had enough coffee to deal with this conversation.”

I glared at her, suddenly angry. I didn’t like this Anya, this sarcastic, snappy Anya who wouldn’t take anything I said seriously. I almost preferred her when she was in kiss-ass mode, subservient and quiet, handing me sugar-free lattes and gluten-free treats just to keep me in a good mood.

“Too bad,” I replied sharply. “You’re my personal assistant, and you need to hear this. What if I’m thinking about a career change? Or even putting my career on pause? I could write a book,” I added. “Well, not me, but I could hire someone to help.”

Anya laughed. “Yeah, write about what? How to succeed in beauty pageants? Step one, don’t eat. Step two, don’t do anything but smile. Easy, right?” She smirked at me and I felt what little confidence I had left erode further.

“No,” I replied. “Not like that. I mean, what if I wrote a memoir about growing up and having leukemia and overcoming all of my obstacles? Don’t you think little girls would find that inspirational?”

Anya looked over my shoulder and I followed her gaze, half-expecting to see Devin staring at some girl’s ass. Instead, she was looking at a group of pre-teens who stood clustered by the entrance to the coffee shop. They were probably between ten and thirteen years of age, and they were all sporting unisex haircuts and big sunglasses.

“Katia, girls now like skateboarding and stuff,” Anya said dismissively. “No one dreams of growing up and being Donald Trump’s fifth wife anymore. Don’t you know that?”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do?” I practically exploded. “Get rid of Devin and stay in my condo like a fucking ice queen, smiling and waving my hand and never speaking my mind? Is that seriously what you think I want for the rest of my life?”

Anya stared. Her jaw dropped, and I noted with satisfaction that I’d rendered her mute, at least temporarily.

“Katia, maybe you need to go home and lie down for a while,” Anya said softly. “This isn’t the best time to discuss everything. You’re obviously upset because of this whole stalker thing.”

Tears came to my eyes, and I brushed them away carelessly. I knew that I couldn’t start crying in public like this. Photos would be all over the tabloids if anyone caught me. Still, I felt hurt and angry and frustrated. Not to mention alone. Anya was always the person I’d confided it, and now that she wasn’t listening, I didn’t know where to turn.

“You don’t care,” I said miserably. “You don’t care about me or what I want. What if I just fired you, Anya?”

Anya shook her head. “That wouldn’t be wise. And Katia, I do care about you. But right now, I don’t think you’re in the best mindset to make decisions. You’re stressed and upset. It’s understandable. Do you know anyone who’s been stalked before? Maybe one of your friends from the pageant world?”

I sniffed. “What friends?” I mumbled. It was true that most of the other girls I’d competed against hated each other. Sure, no one acted like that; everyone was all smiley and friendly, at least until you turned your back. I remembered at my first big pageant, I’d been so happy when one of the girls cozied up to me immediately. Then, my formal dress went missing and appeared on stage on her twig frame. I’d lost the pageant, obviously, but I never forgot the sting of how it had felt to be played like that. And ever since then, I hadn’t gone out of my way to make friends in the pageant scene. I’d only been the requisite amount of nice.

“What about that one girl? What was her name? Jenna?”

“Gemma,” I said automatically. I frowned. Gemma Roberts was one of the girls who had advanced at roughly the same time I had. She’d been into ballet and baton-twirling, which had usually scored higher marks with the judges than my singing. But she wasn’t a natural blonde. She was a dusky, dirty-brown brunette, and my hair had always given me the advantage. After all, I embodied the All-American girl. I looked like Katia Heigl; everyone had always said so.

“Well?” Anya prompted me. “Didn’t something happen with her?”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “It was a long time ago,” I said curtly. “And I think she made it up for attention.”

“Katia, listen to yourself,” Anya said derisively. “You’re so narcissistic! Everything is just all about you, but whenever someone’s been through the same shit, you just think they’re lying for attention!”

I blushed and frowned. I didn’t exactly like her characterization of me like that.

“I don’t think I do that,” I said carefully. I reached across the table and broke the last of Anya’s scone into two small pieces. Taking the bigger pieces, I gnawed thoughtfully. The sugared blueberries weren’t enough to kill the sting of my assistant tearing me into like that, though.

“I think you do,” Anya said levelly. “Your friend. What happened to her?”

“She said some guy was following her around. I don’t know!” I waved my hand in the air. “What? You want me to call her?”

Anya blinked. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. Ask her if she wants to come here and talk with us. Katia, it might be a good idea for you to meet someone who’s been through this before. She might be able to tell you how to give the police more of a clue to catch this guy.”

I didn’t like the idea, but I was sick of fighting with Anya. Besides, maybe she’d be nicer to me if Gemma came and sat with us. After heaving a gigantic sigh, I pulled out my phone and looked up Gemma in my contacts.

“I have no way of knowing if her number is even the same,” I said pointedly. “I might look like a total ass calling some stranger.”

“And just how often have you changed your number?”

“Once,” I mumbled. “In six years.”

I hated how smug Anya looked in the seconds that followed.

Gemma answered on the first ring. “Hello?” She sounded exactly as same as she had before – bitchy and kind of suspicious.

“Gemma!” I cooed. “How are you? This is Katia – Katia Reynolds.”

There was a pause.

“Hello?” I frowned. “Are you still there?”

Gemma sighed. “I’m here,” she said. “What do you want?”

Anya looked at me with an encouraging nod. I sighed again.

“I’m downtown at The Coffee Shack,” I said with false brightness. “You feel like coming down here and having an espresso? My treat!”

“Katia, I don’t know. What do you want to talk about? Can’t we just talk about it over the phone?”

“No,” I said emphatically. “It’s – It’s about what happened during Miss Orange County, back in 2013.”

There was a sharp inhalation of air, followed by another aggravated sigh.

“Fine,” Gemma said. “I’ll be there in ten.”

I turned to Anya with a smug look. “She’s coming,” I said. “I was able to convince her.”

Anya snorted. “You didn’t exactly have to do very much convincing,” she said dryly. “Come on, Katia. I know you better than that. You can’t take credit for everything, you know.”

I smiled, ignoring her. “I’m going to get another latte,” I said. “Want anything?”

Chapter Thirteen

Katia

Thirty minutes later, Gemma slid into The Coffee Shack looking great. Her brown hair was pulled back in a perfectly messy fishtail braid, and she was wearing brand new clothes with a designer bag I’d been eyeing the week before. As she approached, she didn’t bother taking her sunglasses off. I noted with envy that her waist was still as small as it had been over three years ago, while I felt bloated and disgusted from having eaten Devin’s buttery omelet and most of Anya’s scone.

“Hi, Katia,” Gemma said coolly. She sat down to my right. “How are you?”

“Fabulous,” I gushed. “I’ve been keeping up with all of that exhausting charity work. I’m so tired I feel like I could faint. But it’s been so good at keeping my appetite down. Now it’s like I forget to eat!”

Anya rolled her eyes. I ignored her.

“I’m doing well, too,” Gemma said. She leaned over and reached into her bag for a bottle of European mineral water. “You can tell, I’m sure, but I’m not drinking caffeine right now. I’m trying to land a part, and they only want me drinking water for the time being.”

“Your skin does look nice,” I replied. I had to admit that her skin looked absolutely fantastic – like she was glowing from the inside out.

“So,” Gemma said. She flipped her messy braid over one shoulder and finally took her sunglasses off, revealing purple eyes that had to be contacts. “What did you want to talk about?”

Anya cut it. “Gemma, it’s so good to see you,” she said. I groaned. Her ability to sound effortlessly warm was so thirsty, I could barely stand it. “Thank you for coming by. Katia’s in the middle of dealing with a situation, and we’d really like your advice.” Anya leaned closer, glancing around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. “Katia’s got a stalker.”

Gemma turned to me with her eyes wide. “Oh, you do?”

“I don’t know exactly,” I told her. “I mean, yeah, there’s someone being creepy.” I shuddered at the memory of the heavy breathing over the phone. “I keep getting weird calls, and someone’s been taking pictures.”

“It’s serious,” Anya cut in. “Someone snuck into Katia’s condo and took photos of her in bed this morning.” I glanced at her waiting to see if she’d mention Devin. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut.

“Wow,” Gemma breathed. She sniffed. “So, kind of like what happened to me.”

I cringed.

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, no one ever snuck into your house to take pictures.” I tossed my hair. “I mean, mine is probably worse, right?”

Anya and Gemma both glared.

“Katia, can you get over yourself?” Gemma snapped. “Some creepy guy started following me around LA. He saw me when I was out promoting one of those stupid pageants.”

“Miss Orange County,” I added helpfully. Anya’s icy look made me fall silent once again. “I mean, that’s the one it was,” I added. “Right?”

“Does it matter?” Gemma frowned. She threw her hands up in the air. “He followed me around the whole goddamned city. That’s why I quit being in those things. I knew he was always in the audience.” She realized people were staring and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It was horrible,” Gemma said. She sniffed. “I was afraid everywhere I went. I couldn’t even go outside without shaking. I didn’t have anyone. My parents hate the fact that I live in LA and they wouldn’t come visit, and My assistant was on vacation.” She turned to me and I winced. “And all of my so-called friends just made fun of me and told me I probably deserved it.”

I looked down at my hands in my lap. It was true. I’d behaved horribly towards Gemma. It didn’t seem like much of a big deal now, but I regretted every moment.

“I’m sorry,” I said gently. “You’re right. I was a total bitch.”

Gemma rolled her violet eyes. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “It’s not like you have any friends either.” She turned to Anya. “What do you want?”

“How did you get the police to take your case seriously?” Anya pressed. “How did they know you weren’t just lying?

“Someone broke into my backyard and killed my dog,” Gemma said flatly. “I called the cops, and they found fingerprints on the door like someone had wanted to break in but hadn’t been able to. They ran the prints through a database and caught the guy the same afternoon.”

“Fingerprints,” Anya repeated. “That’s genius!” She turned towards me. “Katia, I bet the outside of your condo could be checked for prints, too. Don’t you think that would help?”

“Yeah,” I said. I leaned forward in my chair. “Anya, can you call them? Maybe they can come by this afternoon.”

She nodded. “Okay. We need to get Devin in here and tell him everything including the pictures.”

Gemma looked at me curiously. I colored bright red down to the roots of my hair. “Do we have to?” I asked quietly. “I mean, does he have to see the pictures?”

“Katia,” Anya said in exasperation. “Yes. We have to. Devin is your bodyguard! He has to know.”

I slumped down in my chair. Gemma grinned, and I could tell she was enjoying this way more than she needed to.

“Okay,” I mumbled. “I’ll call him.” I kept one eye on Gemma as I rummaged through my bag for my phone. When my fingers wrapped around it, I pulled it out and glanced down. “Are you staying?”

Gemma snorted. “Obviously not,” she said. “I have a meeting with a production team anyway. I have to go.” She stood up and I leapt out of my chair, noting with satisfaction that even in heels, she was still much shorter than I was. We leaned in and air kissed each other’s cheeks, then she sashayed out of the shop. I watched as she eyed Devin up and down almost like she could tell he was working for me. I waited for him to turn around and look at her with the same level of interest. But thankfully, Devin’s eyes didn’t leave the road. Finally, Gemma huffed in frustration and walked away.

Inside, it was like I’d never stopped being anxious and scared of my would-be attacker. I couldn’t tell Anya how badly I felt about brushing Gemma off in the past. I’d been such a bitch. No wonder she hadn’t exactly been thrilled to hear from me. I wished that I could go back in time and slap myself for being so inconsiderate. After all, Gemma had dealt with the same horrors that I was living.

It wasn’t just that, though. I hated the conversation I’d had with Anya prior to calling Gemma. It irked me that Anya was so dismissive when I talked about Devin like she thought I was a little kid, too immature to really know what love meant after all. It bugged the hell out of me.

“Katia, hurry up and call him,” Anya said nervously. She looked at me, narrowing her eyes. “We’ve still got to call the cops!”

I sighed. “Fine.” I dialed Devin, watching him through the window. For a few irritating seconds, his phone rang and he didn’t even reach for it. Finally, he answered in a gruff voice.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come in here?” I asked delicately. “We need to tell you something.”

Devin hung up without agreeing or even saying anything at all. I watched as he shoved his phone inside his pocket and shuffled along the sidewalk. As he entered The Coffee Shack, every head snapped up to watch him. I snickered because some of the looks people were giving him were completely ridiculous.

“Sir, our bathrooms are for customers only,” a teenaged employee said snidely to Devin as he crossed the room. “You’ll need to make a purchase in order to use them.”

“He’s with me,” I snapped, standing up and striding across the room to where Devin stood, looking confused. As soon as he saw me, his face broke out into a wide, heart-melting grin. My mouth went dry and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.

Damnit, Katia, I thought, channeling Anya. You can’t go to pieces right now. You have more important things to do.

“So,” Devin said once I’d led him back to the small table with Anya. “What can I do?”

Anya slid the folder across the table. “These photos were taken early this morning,” she said in a strained voice. Together, we watched in silence as Devin opened the folder and pulled the pictures out. He shook his head in disgust.

“Who the fuck would do something like?” Devin growled. “This isn’t fucking funny, Anya. Do the cops know?”

“I’m going to call them soon,” Anya promised. “First, we all need to go back to Katia’s condo. I think there might be some fingerprints outside that the cops could find, and maybe even match them up with someone else in the database.”

Devin growled again. The sound of his displeasure made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I had to look away so I wouldn’t be distracted by his handsome face. He was a little wind burned from standing outside for so long, but I’d never seen him look better. The sun had put some pink in his cheeks that contrasted beautifully with his dark hair and the touch of scruff along his sculpted jaw and chin. His blue eyes were watching as intently as a hawk, and I knew him just well enough to know that he was incredibly angry.

“Good,” Devin snarled. “I’ll call Troy and see if he has any idea who this stalker asshole is by now.” He checked his watch. “It’s been long enough. We should already have that fucker behind bars.”

“Right,” Anya said pleasantly. She’d morphed right back into her strict manager mode. “Well, let’s all go back to Katia’s. We can discuss it there.”

# # #

When we got back to my condo, I realized that I didn’t even like walking down the hall without Devin by my side. The pictures Anya had shown me had driven my fear and paranoia to new heights, and I hated turning my back to the door of a room. Devin, Anya, and I patrolled every inch of the space. We looked in all the closets, all the rooms, and under my bed three times. Even so, I still didn’t feel safe.

“So,” Devin said, sitting down at the dining room table and kicking his feet up on the table. “What’re we gonna do?”

“You should call Troy,” Anya said. “Katia and I have some business that we need to take care of in her closets.”

I shot a quick look at Devin. “But you’re not going to leave us, right?”

Anya sighed. “Katia, we know there’s no one inside,” she said gently. She reached out and touched my arm, but I shook off her fingers. “You know we’re safe in here. We just checked. Devin will do a better job of watching from the outside; you know that.”

“If Katia wants me to stay, I’m staying,” Devin said. He planted his feet shoulder-width apart and glared at Anya. “You’re not my boss. She is.”

His comment made me swell with pride, even though I knew I shouldn’t take anything he said to heart. But somehow, his defensive behavior made me feel much more confident than I had initially.

“It’s okay, Devin,” I said. “You can walk around outside, if that’s what you think would be most effective.” I flashed him my biggest smile and was pleased that he winked back at me. “Anya and I won’t be very long. I just have to pull some things from my closet for charity.”

Devin grunted. Anya and I watched as he slumped down the hallway, then stepped out front and slammed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, she turned to me with a clipboard.

“Okay,” Anya said professionally. “We don’t have too much time, but we do need to make a huge pile of things for your donations this month. And you should think about signing some of your shoes. I was thinking we could auction them individually, and then donate all the proceeds to the Children’s Hospital, what do you think?”

I gaped at her. “You’re seriously still thinking about this now? Anya, what the hell about my stalker?”

Anya sighed. “It’s going to be over soon, now. Katia, I doubt you’ll hear anything from that asshole again. Everything’s going to be fine. Devin’s keeping a close eye on your condo, and we’re inside.”

I pouted. Again, I had the feeling of the most exciting part of my life being over. What was I supposed to do when Devin left and went back to his MC? Just sit here and twiddle my thumbs and act like I’d never gotten laid in my life?

Chapter Fourteen

Devin

Troy wasn’t too happy to hear from me.

“Hey,” he said. “You gonna be done with that gig soon? We really need you back in the club, man.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. It felt stickier than usual; I wondered if using that frou-frou soap in Katia’s shower had been a bad idea after all.

“Soon,” I said. “We gotta catch this asshole first. I can’t leave her alone until the guy is behind bars. And even then, I have a feeling she’s gonna be freaked out for quite some time. You should know that better than anyone.” I rolled my eyes, even though Troy wasn’t there to see me. “Chicks get really freaked out about these kinds of things. She’s probably gonna hire someone full-time after I’m gone.”

“So,” Troy said. “If you ain’t coming back yet, why’d you call?”

“I need you to do more research and try to figure out who this guy is,” I said quickly. “We need to find him soon because Katia’s getting really fucking freaked out. Some sicko actually snuck into her condo this morning and took pictures of her in bed.” I held my breath, wondering if I should say something about the fact that I was in those pictures.

Troy won’t care, I realized. He knows who I am.

“That’s fucked up,” Troy said. I could just imagine him shaking his head and lighting up a cigarette. “He actually got into her condo? Where the fuck were you?”

I chuckled nervously. “That’s the thing,” I said, “I was actually in bed. With Katia.”

Troy didn’t reply.

“Hey,” I snapped. “Are you still listening? Did you hang up?”

“Devin,” Troy said slowly. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s a fucking package, not a fucking chick! You don’t get to screw your goddamned customers!”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fuck you,” I said. “If you got a look at this chick, you’d get it. Trust me, she’s fucking hot.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Troy said. “You’re the goddamned President of one of LA’s biggest MCs and you’re sleeping with this bitch? She hired you! Do you know how easy it would be for her to put it out there that you fucked her? It would fucking ruin our reputation. Forget about making money, asshole!”

His words stung, but I should have expected them. After all, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

I groaned. “You don’t have to worry,” I said. “It’s just a fuck.” I snarled. “And besides, asshole, you don’t get to go around giving me orders. It’s my club, remember?”

“And who’s the one holding everything together until you get back?” Troy spat. “Me. That’s right. I’m cleaning up all of your goddamn messes around the club. I don’t fucking expect that to influence your decisions, though. Heaven fucking forbid you keep your dick in your pants for once!”

I rolled my eyes. “Troy, you ass, this isn’t going to matter,” I said. “She’s cool. She’s not gonna fucking sue me for sexual harassment or any of that shit. Besides, she’s loaded. She doesn’t need any more money.”

Troy sighed. “Whatever, man,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear this shit anymore. You want me to get started hunting for this guy?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Look, I’m gonna take her and her personal assistant out to dinner. Why don’t you meet us there? Enchanted Wild, does eight-thirty work?”

I could tell Troy immediately wanted to say something about how I shouldn’t be fraternizing with Katia outside of her condo, but he held his tongue.

“That should give me enough time to get a decent start,” Troy said finally. “I’ll look around and see if I can’t figure out who this asshole is. He’s obviously clever if he actually got inside her fucking condo. And he likes fucking with her more than anything else.”

“What makes you say that?”

Troy sighed again. “Because,” he said, sounding as exasperated as an elderly man. “If he was gonna hurt her, don’t you think he woulda done it while she was asleep? He could have just grabbed her and walked away.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t seem right,” I said slowly. “I think he was surprised to see me in bed, and realized that he could blackmail her for more. If he’d grabbed her, she would have screamed. And I would have killed that fucker, right then and there.”

“You’re thinking about this too much,” Troy said. “Trust me, these guys aren’t like that. They’re the type of men who just want one thing and one thing only. And I’m guessing this one guy’s thing is seeing Katia squirm and act all frightened and hissy. He probably doesn’t give a shit about actually hurting her. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s some bored kid.”

As we hung up, a bad feeling came over me. I tried to ignore it and think about what Troy had said, but it just didn’t seem likely. The photos were one thing, but what about those creepy phone calls? The guy had called Katia at a time when he thought she’d be sleeping, and there’s little more alarming than being woken from a deep sleep to find out that someone’s been watching you. He must have done it on purpose like he wanted her to find out about those photographs as soon as possible.

And what the fuck was up with Troy, anyway? He knew how things worked. He knew he couldn’t be treating me like that. Even though he was my second-in-command, he wasn’t showing very much respect. It was like he’d completely forgotten that I’d picked him out of all the other men to be my vice president. Even if he did have a point about Katia, he’d been pretty fucking rude while telling me about it. I made a mental note to show him who was really in charge as soon as I was able to return to Wicked Bones full time.

I was just about to start patrolling the other side of Katia’s condo when my phone rang again. I sighed.

“Yeah, Troy? What’s up?”

There was a girlish giggle on the other end of the line. “It’s Katia,” a voice said seconds later. “Expecting someone else?”

“Nah,” I mumbled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Katia said. She giggled again, and I heard Anya’s voice in the background. “Can you come in here?”

“On my way.”

When I got inside, Katia and Anya were standing in Katia’s walk-in closet. The floor was covered in clothes and heels and purses, I couldn’t even see the thick shag carpeting that Katia had installed over nearly every inch of her condo’s floor.

“Thank god,” Anya said. She rolled her eyes. “Devin, come in here.”

“We need your opinion,” Katia added. She smiled at me and I relaxed. She looked so goddamn pretty when she smiled that I couldn’t stand it. If Anya hadn’t been standing right there, I would have wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. Just thinking about kissing her was enough to make me hard, and I tried to distance myself from all recollection of her perfect, silky body.

I chuckled under my breath. “You’re feeling better,” I said. Katia bent over to fasten a strap around her ankle, and I couldn’t help but follow the enticing swell of her breasts. Her closet smelled like vanilla and honeysuckle. My cock twitched in my pants as I watched Katia’s figure straighten up. Her breasts bounced as she jumped to her feet.

“Well?” Katia spun in a circle. “What do you think?”

“That’s – that’s a damn outfit, that’s for sure,” I said. She was wearing a gold sparkly, high-waisted skirt and a cream silk blouse with no sleeves that made her look like an old Hollywood starlet.

“Should I donate it for the auction?”

“Sure,” I said. I shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

“Well,” Katia sighed. She wrinkled up her nose, managing to look adorable and curious at the same time. “Because I think I should donate it, but Anya doesn’t want me to.”

“She has to sign the front of it,” Anya explained. “Which would ruin the pieces.”

“But someone would buy it knowing it was Katia’s,” I said. I frowned. An idea had occurred to me, but I wasn’t ready to share it with Katia and Anya at the moment. I’d begun to think about her stalker, and just how easily he’d had access to Katia for all of this time.

As one of LA’s most famous beauty queens, Katia had done a lot with the community. She’d been involved in charity, philanthropy, and tons of things that were very well publicized. She had her own page on Wikipedia, and she was the kind of girl who got a lot of attention. She’d told me once that she always kept a tub of petroleum jelly in her purse so she could slick it on her teeth before exiting a car. She knew that wherever she went, she was going to wind up being photographed.

And the whole charity auction was probably another kink in the weird design of Katia’s stalker. He was someone who could attend events like these, watch Katia, stake out her every move. And for auctions where she was getting rid of her clothing? I shuddered to think of the creepy asshole who would drive the bidding war up just for a piece of something that Katia had owned.

I hoped she’d never decide to auction off any of her lingerie.

“So?” Katia pouted and turned. “Devin, what should I do?”

“Don’t auction it,” I said darkly.

She frowned. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

I sighed. “I’ll tell you later.”

Chapter Fifteen

Katia

After Anya and I had cleared away most of the clothing, I threw on some black jeans and a white sweater. Devin was taking us to Enchanted Wild, one of LA’s newest and trendiest restaurants. I’d been there before when I’d gone to the soft opening with Anya and some of her friends, but I was excited for the chance to see Devin in public again. After all, despite the stares he’d garnered at the coffee shop, I couldn’t ignore the fact that everyone was as drawn to him as I was.

“Come on,” Anya grumbled. I sighed.

“It’s not good,” I said. I leaned back from the mirror and wiped off my lipstick for the third time in a row. I couldn’t explain it, but I didn’t feel nearly as confident as I normally did. Something about my makeup seemed off, and even though the black jeans I was wearing were my favorite pair, I wasn’t enjoying the way I looked in them as much as usual.

“Well, you look stunning,” Anya said. “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it? That you look incredible.”

I sighed. “Not from you,” I said too softly for her to hear. Reaching into a cabinet on the top of my vanity, I pulled out a silver clip and pinned my hair to one side like I was some pop star from the eighties.

“Devin’s waiting,” Anya said. She tapped her toe on the bathroom floor. I wanted to snap at her and ask her why she cared so much, seeing as she obviously didn’t want me staying with him in the long term.

Or even the short term, I thought sadly as I pulled my sunglasses out of my purse and let them rest on the top of my head. She doesn’t believe that I truly love him. What kind of a person does she think I am? The sun was setting among an array of warm colors, but that didn’t do a thing for my black mood. I pouted all the way to the restaurant. Anya drove her grandmotherly Subaru, and Devin sat in the back, like she was his chauffeur. I kept sneaking peeks at him in the rearview mirror. He looked even more handsome that usual with his hair was sticking out in messy cowlicks all over his head, almost like a Dior model from twenty years ago. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and black jeans. The outfit wasn’t tight, but it still clung to his muscled frame whenever he twisted in the seat. When he laughed, he threw his head back and I stared at his neck, suddenly wondering what would happen if I threw myself in the back seat and kissed the exposed skin.

“Hello,” Anya said. “Earth to Katia! Are you even listening?”

“Sorry.” I flashed a bright smile at Anya, then peeked into the backseat. Devin’s eyes were trained on me, and I blushed when I saw the intense look on his face. The sun was just beginning to slide behind the LA hills and the low light reflected into Anya’s car with startling precision.

“So, I asked, what do you think your schedule will be like next week? I’d like to get a photo-shoot done for that pageant you’ll be judging at the end of the year,” Anya continued. “We don’t have any recent bikini photos of you, so I’d like to get some. But since you’re twenty-seven now, they’ll have to be a little tasteful. Maybe something with a high waist and fuller coverage, kind of like what Taylor Swift would wear?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I hate her,” I said. “She looks like an asexual little twit. She never even shows her belly button. I bet she doesn’t have one.”

Devin burst out laughing. “It’s true,” he said.

I turned around in surprise. “What does a big tough biker like you know anything about Taylor Swift?”

“Troy dated some chick who loved her,” he said. “But she looks so fucking fake to me.”

“See?” I pointed into the backseat. “Anya, Devin has the right idea. I can’t dress like her; no one’s going to think that’s cute.”

Anya sighed. She put on her right blinker and turned into the parking lot of Enchanted Wild. I had to giggle; Anya was probably the only person in all of LA who still thought to use her blinker each time she needed to turn.

The restaurant was packed. Immediately, I wished that I’d worn something a bit dressier, but it didn’t stop men from staring at me as the maître d’ led us to our booth in the corner of the restaurant. Normally, I would have fussed over having such a shitty table, but something told me that our discussion this evening was better left private.

“Katia, you’re popular around here,” Devin said dryly. He reached for his water glass and drank greedily. “All of those men.” He glanced around. He was getting stares, too, but they were of a much different sort. I was surprised that he hadn’t been asked to put on a jacket while we had been standing in the lobby.

I shrugged. “I can’t help it,” I said delicately. “I’ve worked on building an image.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Katia, even going through a crisis doesn’t change you,” she muttered.

“But you love me,” I said. I grinned at her, and a few seconds later, Anya smiled back.

“I do,” Anya replied. “God help me, but I do.”

“I’m fucking starving,” Devin complained just as a waiter dropped three heavy leather-bound menus on the table. “What’s good here?”

“I love the lamb tips, and the bouillabaisse is out of this world,” I gushed. “Oh, and the kale salad with peaches and sunflower seeds. It’s incredible, it’s like a taste of summer right in your mouth.”

Devin licked his lips. “I’d rather put something else in my mouth,” he said. He glanced at me, then quickly shifted his gaze down towards my lap. I blushed bright red as Anya lifted a finger in the air and scolded Devin like a schoolmarm.

“Just because I know about this does not mean I approve,” she said quickly. “Devin, the chicken parmesan is good, too. I can’t eat red meat so soon before bed though; it gives me the worst heartburn.”

Devin chuckled again. “I get that, too. It’s a real bitch.” Anya winced at the curse, but she didn’t say anything. When I looked up, she was staring at Devin so carefully that her eyes were patting down the seams of his clothing. I frowned. I wondered what her sudden interest in him was. Was she trying to make me jealous, somehow? Show me that he’d immediately fawn over any woman who paid attention to him?

“You people are old.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll have the lamb, probably, and a salad. I’m starving!”

“Between that omelet and my scone, I bet you’re famished,” Anya said dryly. I glared at her just as the waiter appeared.

Devin ordered a wine for the table. I was surprised, until the waiter had gone and he told me his trick: pick the second-most expensive wine. Devin’s rationale was that it was probably as good as the most expensive wine, only less popular because fewer people ordered it.

I burst out laughing. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Devin laughed. “I’m not,” he said. The wine arrived and he poured mine, making sure I had a giant glass.

“Trying to get me drunk?”

Devin snorted. “Not exactly,” he said. He winked at me, and I felt my heart skid to a stop in my chest. Just staring at him for more than a few seconds was enough to make me feel all fuzzy and warm inside. I shivered at the memory of his touch on my bare skin, of his scent mingled with mine.

“Kids, enough,” Anya snapped. She stood up from the table and jerked her head towards the bathrooms. “Katia, would you?”

I pretended to groan as I stood up and followed Anya away. Being with Devin and Anya together was surprisingly fun. I felt like Devin and I were the naughty children that Anya was babysitting. I didn’t exactly like making jokes at her expense, but she was always good at making it seem like I hadn’t actually said anything too offensive.

The bathroom of Enchanted Wild was plush, done all in shades of purple and violet that reminded me of Gemma’s contacts. Anya pushed the door open and then leaned against it so no one else could come in.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said quietly. “I really shouldn’t have spoken to you about Devin like that.” She sighed, and I put my hands on my hips, smirking triumphantly.

“So, you’re telling me that you were wrong?”

Anya nodded. “I like him,” she admitted. “And I can tell he cares about you.”

I frowned. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know,” Anya admitted. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea if you pursue him. After all, your image is built on you being single. And if you want to compete in some of the older pageants, you can’t be married. That’s serious, Katia. If you even lie about a serious relationship, they’ll find out and blacklist you forever.”

I pouted. “I wasn’t even thinking about competing anymore, to be honest,” I said slowly. “I think I’m pretty happy with my life now.”

Anya nodded. “And there’s always the Mrs. California pageants if you change your mind.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned. “No fucking way do I want to compete with those Mom Barbies. I’d lose, and they wouldn’t be able to believe I was still single at twenty-seven.”

“So?” Anya leaned closer to the mirror and picked a small acne scar on her chin. “You wanna go back out there?”

I nodded, suddenly nervous. The fact that Anya had basically given me permission to date Devin changed everything. I was going to have to come to terms with the way I felt about him, especially now that my stalker was going to be imprisoned soon.

“I’m ready,” I said, practicing my most charming smile in the bathroom mirror. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Sixteen

Katia

When we got back to the table, Devin got a call after only a few seconds.

“Troy is here,” he explained. “He said that he’d come and meet me as soon as he had news.”

A burst of excitement exploded in my chest. I couldn’t believe that Devin was going to save the day. It was all happening so fast. I wanted to reach out and hug him, bury my face in his neck and inhale until his manly scent was the only thing left in the world. But that would have meant spilling a very expensive bottle of wine and also alienating Anya. Instead, I flashed a smile at him.

“Good,” I said sweetly. “Go get him. I’ll order more wine if we need.”

Devin left and came back a few seconds later, followed by one of the most muscular men I’d ever seen. He was built like a pit bull, short and squat and bowlegged with close-cropped blonde hair and brown eyes that flashed over the whole restaurant in a matter of seconds. It looked like he was capable of throwing me over his shoulder with the slightest flick of his brawny arm.

“This is Troy Morrow,” Devin said. He gestured towards Troy. “He’s my Vice President, and he’s always been a real fuck of a stand-up guy.” He grinned, and I grinned back. Something about Devin’s smile always lured me in.

“Pleased,” Troy said, in a voice that made me think he was anything but. “Can I sit down with y’all?”

I nodded. “Have some wine,” I offered. “Devin ordered it. It’s really good.”

“Aw, I’m shocked,” Troy said gruffly. I couldn’t tell whether or not he was being sarcastic. Like Devin, he was wearing a plain black T-shirt, but he had regular blue jeans on that were covered with grease stains. There was a small hole at the knee, and I wondered if he’d been working on his bike or something equally manly when Devin had called.

After Troy had sat down, he and Devin leaned close and whispered a few words back and forth. Feeling out of place, I looked at Anya. I expected her to be cynical, rolling her eyes at the two bikers like she normally would. Instead, her face had an odd expression. Her hazel eyes were glowing, and one of her hands was working through tangles at the ends of her shoulder-length brown hair. Her eyes were glued to Troy. I watched as her mouth parted slightly, her breath coming out in damp bursts.

As discreetly as I could, I kicked Anya under the table.

“What the fuck?” Anya hissed. She scooted her chair closer to mine and leaned in. “What did you kick me for?” She put on a wounded expression and leaned down to massage her calf.

“You’re staring at Troy,” I said under my breath in a singsong voice. “You think he’s cute.”

“It’s not that,” Anya said. She sat up straight and shook her brown hair around her face. “I’ve just never seen anyone that muscular in real life. I mean, is he even real?”

We both turned our faces towards Devin and Troy. Devin’s lean-yet-sculpted physique and Troy’s bulldog-ish frame together made them look like a pair of cartoon villains plotting a heist.

“I think he’s real,” I said with a giggle. “And I think you want to fuck him.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said. “I do not.”

“You so do,” I said grinning wickedly. “Good thing you came around to Devin now. I think I have enough ammunition to keep you silent for the time being now!”

“Ladies,” Devin said. He gave me a charming smile. “What’re you being all secretive about?”

“Nothing,” I said coyly. I flicked my gaze over towards Anya. “But I think Anya would like to be introduced to Troy, don’t you?”

Devin chuckled, and I could tell he understood what I really meant. Beside me, Anya blushed bright red like a tomato.

“Troy, this is Katia Reynolds, of course,” Devin said. “And this is Anya Bellaire, her assistant.”

Troy’s gaze flicked over me and lingered on Anya, I noted with a smug kind of satisfaction. He extended his beefy arm over the table and shook my hand. His fingers were like pork sausages; I knew that he was probably capable of crushing my hand in his own if he really wanted to. But when he shook with Anya, his demeanor was different, almost shy. A grin spread across my face as I watched the way the two of them smile at each other.

“So,” I said delicately. “Troy, Devin said that you’d stop by when you knew something.”

“Yeah,” Troy grunted. I couldn’t help smirking because I figured that most of his communication was done via grunting.

“Well? Do you have any ideas?”

“Yeah,” Troy grunted again. “This asshole, Ryan Winters.” He pulled out a battered phone from his leather jacket and slid it across the table towards me. I gasped when I saw the screen.

“He’s a judge,” I said, tapping his face on the screen. “At like, a thousand of the pageants I went to.” I picked up Troy’s phone and scrutinized the image. “God, I’d almost forgotten about him. He was such a creep!”

“You know this guy?” Devin’s jaw dropped. “You’ve seen him before?”

I nodded shakily. Thinking that Ryan Winters had been inside my house was such a creepy thought that I almost lost my appetite.

“Yeah,” I said. “He was a judge and kind of an asshole.” I wrinkled my nose. “He disqualified me one time because I didn’t have a string bikini. He said that my bathing suit didn’t fit the guidelines, so he threw me out when I made a fuss over it.”

“God, what a pervert,” Anya said. She plucked Troy’s phone from my grasp and looked down at the screen with obvious interest. “I remember him!” Anya crowed. “I’ve seen him before at charity events.”

“Oh yeah?” Troy turned towards Anya with obvious interest. “Like what?”

Anya ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke. “Let’s see,” she said. “Models Beyond Borders, Models for The Future, Models in Nature. Basically, everything that Katia’s ever been involved with, this guy has done.”

Troy nodded. “That sounds about right,” he said. “And I did some intel on this asshole. He’s got a bogus nonprofit organization; supposedly some kind of scholarship shit for girls who want to be models and actresses.”

“What?” I wrinkled my nose. “Does this guy have any other interests besides models?”

“I don’t think so,” Troy said seriously. Devin snorted.

“She was kidding,” Devin added.

Troy frowned. “He’s been really involved with the LA scene for about fifteen years,” he added. “Never been married, no kids. Perpetually single dude. I’ve looked into his tax records and he spends most of his income in Vegas.”

I frowned. “Doing what?”

“Brothels, mainly,” Troy said.

I blushed. “God, sorry I asked.”

“So, you remember this guy?”

I nodded. “Unfortunately.” Closing my eyes, I could see him lurking on my lids like it was yesterday.

“What happened?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story,” I said carefully. “Can I have more wine?”

As Devin reached for my crystal glass and the bottle of merlot, I turned away and remembered a beauty pageant, about five years ago.

# # #

I’d been competing for years, and I’d already made my name as a high-status pageant girl. Between the money, the prizes, and the notoriety that I’d gained from competing, I was actually thinking about retiring. That was when I’d gotten the phone call; it was from some friend of Anya’s advertising a charity event. Aside from visiting the sick girls at the Children’s Hospital, I hadn’t yet gotten too deep in philanthropy. I was still finding my feet deciding what and who I wanted to spend my hard-earned pageant money on.

The event had been a pageant for preteen girls in LA. All of the girls came from disadvantaged homes, and they were competing to win a scholarship to one of the best college-prep schools in LA. The friend of Anya’s, a girl named Tiffy, had asked me to come judge. I was excited since I couldn’t remember doing something that sounded fun for some time, and like it actually tied into my interests of working with children one day.

The venue was one of the nicer hotels in Santa Monica. I drove by myself as I wasn’t at the point in my career where Anya accompanied me everywhere. I didn’t worry about being too safe back then. I drove an older convertible everywhere and loved being recognized on the streets. It was just starting to happen with some kind of regularity, and it was such an ego-boost for me to realize that people actually admired who I was.

The event, Miss Pre-Teen Scholarship, was pretty big. I made my way backstage, and that’s when I felt a hand clamp down on the small of my back.

“Oh my gosh!” I jumped into the air and covered my mouth with my hands. When I turned around, I saw a chubby, shorter, older man. He was balding on top but still had hair around the sides of his head. He was wearing an obviously-expensive sweater vest in olive green, but it was obviously too small for him by the way his arms bulged out of the sides. There were massive sweat stains on the armpits of his Oxford shirt, and his pants were cinched in so tightly that his belly hung over.

“Hey there,” he said smoothly like he was one of the best-looking guys on the planet. “Nice to meet you. Katia Reynolds?”

“Yes,” I said. I blushed because I was still flattered that he’d recognized me, even though he was so unattractive. Back then, I just liked being seen. It didn’t matter who was complimenting me. I just loved the attention.

“I’m Ryan Winters,” the man said in a greasy voice. He slipped his hand inside of mine and squeezed. I was repulsed. His hand was warm and baby-soft.

I didn’t show my disgust, though. I merely smiled and pulled my hand away from Ryan’s as quickly as was socially acceptable.

“Nice to meet you,” I said sweetly, assuming he was gay. He was probably a pageant judge, just like me; probably someone who had worked on movie crews and behind the scenes for most of his life.

Ryan smiled. “So, may I inquire as to what you’re doing after this?”

“Oh, gosh,” I said. “I’m not sure! Maybe having lunch with my assistant Anya at Grapeyard & Vine. Have you been? Their goat cheese salad is so good!”

Ryan smirked, and suddenly I knew he wasn’t gay. “Sounds good,” he said. I had to make a concentrated effort not to wrinkle my nose. Something about his voice was as oily as the salad dressing at Grapeyard & Vine.

“So, Katia,” Ryan said, leaning closer. “You may have heard of me. I’ve certainly heard of you.” He chuckled at his own joke, but for once, I didn’t take any pleasure in the fact that he’d recognized me. “I have a little arrangement with some of the pageant girls around here.” Before I could ask what he meant, Ryan had grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the side of the stage. I was about to slap him when I realized he was pointing at one of the other judges. She was a gorgeous, petite redhead I’d seen at various events over the past few months. She was new to LA, and the rumor was that she was from Wisconsin or one of those other dreadful flyover states.

“What about her?” I frowned. “Did you – did you want me to talk to her for you?” I asked weakly. It wasn’t the most unusual thing in the world fora man like Ryan to want me to speak to another, younger woman. I didn’t always find it flattering, but mainly I was just relieved that Ryan wasn’t very interested in me.

Ryan chuckled. Something about the way he laughed made me uneasy. It wasn’t like unattractive men to be so damn condescending, and I’d about had enough of it.

“No, honey, that’s not what I want,” Ryan sneered, his ugly face suddenly scowling at me. I yelped at the tone of his voice and he dragged me closer. “You see that little bitch? Well, I had her. And she’s not half as hot as you are. I’m gonna have you, too,” Ryan said. “So, the sooner you agree to go out with me, the better.”

I stepped back, successfully pulling my wrist away from Ryan’s clutches. “No,” I said firmly. “Sorry. That’s not how I work. Besides, I have a boyfriend.” I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I figured there was no way Ryan could know that.

He laughed in my face, sending a gust of anchovy-scented wind right into my nostrils. I gagged and coughed until tears came to my eyes.

“No, you don’t have a boyfriend, honey,” Ryan said. “Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to go after a girl with a man?” He burst out laughing as my cheeks turned crimson with anger and shame.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said primly, stepping backwards. “You leave me alone or I’ll call the stage manager on you!”

Ryan snorted. “That wouldn’t do anything,” he said. He grinned exposing oddly white teeth for someone as nasty as him. “I own this town, baby. I own LA. You ask any of those bitches out there,” he added, gesturing towards all of the women. “They’ll tell you, don’t fuck with Ryan Winters.”

I threw him one final petulant glance before bolting away. I didn’t even find the manager to tell her that I was leaving; I just left. I called Anya in the car, shaking and sobbing. She promised to make it right. Even though I was blacklisted from that charity for a few years, it was all worth it.

# # #

“Katia? Hello?” Anya leaned in close. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I mumbled. “Just thinking about when I ran into that guy before.” Anya, Devin, and Troy all listened as I recounted the tale of that disastrous afternoon. I noted with satisfaction that both Devin and Troy looked murderous by the time my tale was over.

“And did you ever see him again?” Devin pressed. He drained his wine glass and set the empty cup down on the table. “After that, I mean?”

I shook my head. My cheeks were pink with the wine and the warm air inside Enchanted Wild, but I couldn’t deny that every time Devin looked at me, I blushed even harder.

“Yeah,” I said. “He was a judge at some of my pageants and I saw him from afar at some events, but that was the only private communication we ever had.”

Devin nodded. He frowned. “So, I wonder why he’s bothering you now,” he said. “It’s almost like something would have triggered him to start stalking you again.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “It might just be a weird coincidence. Who knows, this city is full of weird shit.”

Troy licked his lips. He reached for a piece of garlic bread and savagely bit into it, chewing ferociously. He had a kind of animal magnetism about him, and I could see why Anya was attracted.

“He’s a real asshole, Katia,” Troy grunted. “We’re gonna take him down, though. You don’t need to worry any more. We’ve fuckin’ got this.”

Anya and I went to the ladies’ again while Troy and Devin finished eating.

“I think I might go home with Troy,” Anya whispered. She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick. I waited until she’d finished applying the coral matte cream before replying.

“You should,” I said carefully. “But you promise if I need you, you’ll pick up the phone?”

“Definitely,” Anya said. She hugged me. “Katia, you know how important you are to me. You’re more than just my boss. You’re like my sister.” She kissed my cheek. “And I’m really sorry about everything I said earlier today. I know you’ve really grown up a lot.” She shook her head. “And you’ve definitely come a long way from that spoiled Valley Girl brat persona. You’ve turned into a real woman, Katia.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “I love you, too,” I told her. “Now come on, the guys are waiting for us.”

Chapter Seventeen

Katia

Anya and Troy left together on Troy’s bike, leaving me and Devin with the car. I’d drunk so much wine that I almost wanted to call for a driver, but Devin assured me that he was fine to drive. As soon as we got in the car, I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him close.

“Katia…” Devin trailed off. “This isn’t a good idea. You know that.”

“I don’t care,” I whispered. Pressing my lips to his, I moaned softly into his mouth. Devin only resisted me for a second. After a moment, I felt him respond to my touch. Devin eagerly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. His tongue slipped between my lips, and I groaned softly as he began to suck and nibble on my lower lip.

When we parted, he was staring at me with lust in his eyes. During the drive home, I snuggled close to Devin on the bench seat and slipped my hand in between his thighs. Devin groaned as my fingers stroked the bulge of his erection through his jeans. He let out a wild cry of pleasure as I brought my hand to my own lap, touching myself through the crotch of my jeans.

“Katia, I’m going to ravish you,” Devin grunted as he turned his car into the driveway of my condo. My heart was thudding as he slowed to a stop. We both leapt out of the car and bolted towards the front door, eager to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as possible.

I knew immediately that something was wrong. The foyer was untouched, but the condo felt different, as if someone had somehow taken ownership in my absence and removed everything that had made Katia Reynolds’s condo special to Katia Reynolds.

“Something’s wrong” I whispered as I stepped forward. Devin gently pushed me to the side and ran ahead to flick the light switch. The foyer was drenched in bright yellow light, but nothing looked out of place.

“Come with me,” Devin said. He grabbed my hand. “And don’t let go, Katia. Don’t leave me unless I specifically tell you to do so, okay?”

I nodded, whimpering in fear. Devin pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and began leading me down the hallway. We checked each and every room, even the locked guest room that I used when Anya stayed over after a long night of chick flicks and wine. As far as I could tell, nothing was amiss.

“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I mumbled as Devin dragged me into the dining room and turned on the lights. He inspected every surface, looking for unfamiliar crumbs or footprints pressed into the shag carpeting. Still, there was nothing.

Finally, we approached my bedroom. A cold sense of dread enveloped me much like the one I’d felt at the coffee shop earlier when Anya had shown me those dreadful pictures. Tightening my grip on Devin’s hand, I tried to focus on my breathing.

In, out, in, out, I thought, picturing my breath filling a large red balloon with every exhalation. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m with Devin. He’d never let anything happen to me, not on his watch.

Devin kicked my bedroom door open and sprang inside. He flicked on the lights, then glanced down at the floor. As we entered the room together, I frowned.

“Something smells funny,” I said.

Devin turned to me. “Katia, do you have a cleaning service? Or a maid?”

I nodded. “Consuela comes on Saturdays,” I said. Our eyes met as Devin glanced up at me from the carpeting. “But today’s Tuesday,” I added quickly. “Besides, she always leaves the lights on and a note in the foyer.”

“You left some stuff on the floor last night, didn’t you?” Devin stared into my eyes. “Your panties and bra.”

I gasped. I realized he was right. The fancy lingerie that I’d worn to seduce Devin was gone. I’d left it on the floor where he’d thrown it, and I’d completely forgotten about it. I swallowed hard.

“I know it was still there this morning,” I said in a trembling voice. “I kicked the garter belt on my way to the bathroom.”

Devin looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “Come with me,” he barked. “Come on, faster!” He gripped my fingers tightly and bolted down the hallway to the second guest room where he was staying. As he kicked open the door, the curious smell from my bedroom got even stronger. I covered my nose with my free hand and gagged.

“It’s piss,” Devin said disgustedly.

“Is Oliver in here?”

“Who?”

“My pug,” I explained. I frowned. Now that I was thinking about it, I didn’t remember seeing Oliver anywhere. Ever since Devin had come here, I’d been so interested in him that I’d barely remembered my dog.

“There’s no dog in here,” Devin said. “And it doesn’t smell like dog piss.” He sniffed the air again and then dropped my hand and squatted down. Reaching under the bed, Devin grunted with disgust as he pulled out a duffel bag. It was soaked with urine.

The smell was enough to turn my stomach, and for a moment I came very close to barfing expensive wine all over the carpeting of my guest room.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Devin muttered. He pulled his hand away and shook it, spraying the carpet and duvet with urine. “This is fucking ruined. This wasn’t a little dog, I’m fuckin’ tellin’ you, Katia. This was a man.”

The air whooshed out of my lungs and I felt faint. “We can’t stay here,” I said softly. “We have to leave. We have to go somewhere else.”

# # #

Thirty minutes later, Devin and I left the house in Anya’s car. I suggested someplace classy, like the LA Regis, but Devin turned me down.

“Those places don’t have the best security,” he said. “And that’s exactly where someone’s going to look for you first.” He sighed and ran a hand through his cowlicked hair. “We’re going to have to go somewhere cheap.”

“Like a Holiday Inn?”

Devin chuckled. “Baby, I wish,” he said. “No. I mean like a motel outside of town.”

I groaned. “Oh my God, no, we’re going to get bedbugs if we go there,” I whined. “I can’t! Those places are so gross.”

Devin sighed. “I know it sucks,” he said calmly. “But you’ve gotta stay calm and suck it up for now. We can order pizza,” he added. “Does that make it sound better?”

I pouted. “No,” I said. “Devin, do we have to? Can’t we drive to San Diego or something and stay in a nice place there?”

Devin shook his head. “I gotta stay close if Troy and I are gonna catch this guy,” he said. “Come on.”

I crossed my arms and slumped down in the driver’s seat, staring out the window. I knew Devin was probably right, but I didn’t want to admit it. After all, I knew enough not to be mad at him. But making me stay in a cheap motel was just ridiculous. They never even wash the bedspreads in those places. Just thinking about it was enough to make me nauseous again.

Devin had kept the urine-soaked duffel bag in a garbage bag and tucked it carefully into Anya’s trunk. He planned to go to the police with evidence. The urine and the theoretical fingerprints outside my condo were hard evidence that we could hopefully use to convict Ryan, but I made Devin promise that he’d stay with me all night. I felt so guilty because now he was in danger, and it was all my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten so attached to Devin. I was putting him at risk every second that I spent thinking about him. It wasn’t fair, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop.

I loved Devin, and I was going to have to deal with that after this whole mess was over.

Devin bought us a room at the shittiest motel I’d ever seen.

“I’ve seen garbage heaps that look more appealing than this,” I complained as I stepped out of the car and massaged my calves. They were sore from wearing heels for so long. “Do we really have to stay here?”

“Sorry, Princess,” Devin said with a smirk. “It’ll be over soon. Just a couple of days, and then you can go back home.”

I sighed. “I don’t even want to go home,” I said. “Not with that creeper out there. I don’t want to go back to my condo until I’m sure that he won’t be coming back.”

Devin nodded. “I get that,” he said. “Trust me. I know this sucks, honey, but it’s okay. We’ll get Ryan soon, and then you can go back home. I know you’re probably looking forward to having alone time again, huh?”

I pouted but didn’t respond. The truth was I was dreading the day that Devin left and went back to Wicked Bones. I wanted him around, all the time, not just when he was protecting me. And right now, I knew that I couldn’t tell him. It would just make things worse and probably put Devin in even more danger.

Devin carried our bags up to the second story. Our room was on the end, number one-eleven. As Devin jammed the key (a real key, not even one of those plastic card thingys!) into the lock, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I was dying for a long, hot bath but I had a feeling that the tub in the bathroom would be one of the most disgusting things that I’d ever seen in my life.

“Well, home sweet home,” Devin said when he got the door unlocked. He kicked the door open and strode inside, carrying our bags like they weighed nothing at all. As soon as he flicked on the lights, I let out a loud scream.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Devin said. He set the bags down on the ground. “What now?”

Shaking, I pointed my finger forward. “That,” I whispered. “What is it?” I stepped closer, not wanting to get too near the grey bulge on the floor. “Is it a mouse? A dead rat? Devin, help!”

Devin chuckled. “Baby, it’s a ball of lint,” he said. He reached down to grab it, and I shrieked, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. “What, you don’t want me to get the big bad lint ball?”

“No,” I said. “I want you to stay with me.”

Devin stood up. I was still gripping his arm, and for a moment, we swayed uneasily together. His dark blue eyes were staring into mine and I shivered; he had a way of looking at me that made me feel like I was naked.

“And just what exactly do you want me to stay with for?” Devin’s voice was a husky growl that sent shivers down my spine. I stepped closer, swaying dangerously on my heels.

“To protect me,” I said softly. “That’s what I hired you to do, right?”

Devin chuckled. “You did,” he said. “And that’s all?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

For a moment, I was tempted to respond. I wanted to tell him everything; how I’d unwittingly fallen in love with him, how he’d somehow captivated me beyond all imagination, how I’d never felt like this about a man before. I’d never even come close. Yet, telling Devin was the scariest part of all. The words were in my mouth, wrapped around my tongue, and caught in my teeth, yet I was unable to speak. It was as though some wicked sorceress had put a curse on me, and I couldn’t do anything to break it.

Devin reached up and brushed a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ears. My heart leapt into my throat as the tension between us sizzled and sparked between our bodies. I took a step forward and closed the gap between Devin and myself. He was warm, and I deeply inhaled his scent. By now, it was a scent as familiar to me as my own, but unlike my own scent, smelling Devin made my belly jump, tingle, and flutter in anticipation.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Devin whispered. He leaned down and nuzzled my neck, making my shiver. The sensation of his lips gliding over my skin was heavenly, and I let out a small moan as he nipped at my collarbone.

“Yes. This is what I want.”

And just like that, Devin’s arms were around me, and we were kissing. Our lips tangled, moving together with a slow, lush speed that immediately soaked my panties. I was no longer thinking of anyone else or any of my trouble. Devin was my whole world, the air that I was breathing, every thought that was running through my mind. He was my body, my soul, my blood, even the tiny little cells in my skin.

“God, Katia,” Devin moaned. He tangled his hand in my loose curls and yanked my head back, exposing more of my neck for him to ravish. As he kissed his way down my flesh, I shuddered and cried out with pleasure. Devin eased me back until I was tripping over the mattress. We fell gracefully down, landing with a thud on one of the hardest beds I’d ever felt. Being in the cheap motel no longer mattered, and I didn’t even care that I was probably going to get fleas from this damn bed. All that mattered was that I was with Devin, alone, and that we were going to make love.

I knew in my mind that this could very well be the last night I ever spent with Devin. Tomorrow, he and Troy could go catch Ryan. Then, Devin would be back with Wicked Bones, riding around LA on his bike, and wreaking havoc. I had a feeling that if I saw him with his guys, I wouldn’t even recognize him. That wild look in his eyes that I’d seen back when we first met would take permanent residence and replace the kind looks that he shares with me. Never again would the surprisingly sweet Devin stroke my hair or order me a bottle of the wine list’s second most expensive bottle.

I’d be lucky if I saw him again at all.

The reality of knowing that soon Devin would be gone made me even hornier. I dug my fingers into the back of his neck, kissing him desperately until we were both gasping for air. I savored his taste, sucking his tongue, and running the tip of my own tongue along Devin’s teeth. He moaned with delight as I ran my hands down his muscled chest, over his body and down between his thighs. His cock was rock hard, and when I stroked my fingers over it, Devin shuddered.

He was putty in my hands. I knew he was enjoying this as much as I was, but I had to make it last. As acrobatically as I could, I pushed Devin down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. I spread my legs over his waist and leaned down, pressing my mouth to his. My blonde hair spread out over my back and covered our faces in a drape of golden light that made the cheap motel seem almost palatable. Devin grunted, shifting his hips up until he was thrusting against the crotch of my jeans.

I moaned softly and arched my back, grinding my pussy on Devin’s crotch. I could feel how wet I was. The silk material of my thong was rubbing against my clit, making me feel hot and sensual. The two layers of jeans were enough to keep my crotch away from Devin’s, and I groaned as I slid a hand between our bodies and gently rubbed his manhood until he let out a wild growl of pleasure.

Devin grabbed my arms and rolled me over, effectively pinning me down. He nuzzled me with his nose and then nipped his way down my neck and torso. As his strong, rough hands slid under my top and pulled my sweater over my head, he took time to run his hands over my body. I was wearing a silk, demi-cup bra, and my breasts rose out of the cups until my nipples were swollen and stiff from the stimulation. Devin stared into my eyes until I saw fire. He slipped a hand inside my bra and began rubbing my nipple with his thumb and forefinger. My pussy gushed moisture inside my panties, and I moaned and strained against his body as the tormenting touch of his fingers sent shivers all down my spine. I wanted him so badly that I felt like I would explode unless he fucked me right then and there. But I knew Devin well enough by now to know that he’d take his delicious time, until I was so wet and swollen that his cock would disappear into my womanhood with one quick, easy motion.

Devin’s fingers undid with the snap of my jeans. I lifted my hips off the bed to help him remove my clothes. In seconds, I was naked from the waist down. I couldn’t wait for him, so I started touching myself. He stared at me with fire and hunger is his eyes as he watched me pleasure myself.

“Come here,” I panted. “Please, Devin. Please. I need you.”

Devin spread my legs with a strong hand gripping each thigh. I pulsed my hips as he nuzzled my pussy, nudging me with his tongue and nose. The sensation of his tongue lapping at my wet skin was incredible, and I let out a cry of delight as Devin slipped a finger inside of my soaked hole. I moaned, bucking my hips and arching my back as Devin began to wriggle his finger. His lips fastened around my clit, and he began to suck as I buried my hands in his hair. The stubble from his chin rubbed against my labia, and I bit my lip to stifle a cry. It felt so good that I kept forgetting to breathe, only remembering to suck in air every time my lungs began to ache. Devin kept licking and sucking until I was crying out with hoarse pleasure. I tugged his scalp until he moaned deeply into my crotch, sending a shockwave of pleasure through my whole body.

“I want you now,” I panted.

Devin chuckled. The sensation of his breath against my wet skin made me jump. I could feel that my cheeks were red and hot with my desire, but I didn’t care. Devin crawled up over my body and pressed his damp mouth to mine. I could taste myself on his lips. It was delicious and sexy to lick myself off Devin’s lips and tongue, and I closed my eyes and moaned softly into his mouth as I sucked the last of my juices off his tongue.

Devin pressed his body close to mine. I felt lewdly naked, wearing only a bra, so I quickly unfastened it and tossed it to the side. As Devin pushed against me, his hard cock brushed against my thigh through his jeans. I slid a hand down and caressed him through the material, stroking him until he pumped his hips and groaned loudly.

“God, Katia,” Devin grunted. “You’re torturing me. You have to stop,” he begged. “I can’t stand it.”

I climbed to my knees and grinned. I liked holding him mercilessly like this in the palm of my hand. It was so satisfying. I’d never reveled in my control over a man quite like this, and the sensation was addictive.

Reaching forward, I slipped my hands under Devin’s t-shirt, caressing his muscular body. He purred as I pulled the worn cotton over his head and tossed it to the side. As I pushed him down on the bed with one hand, I lowered my face to Devin’s chest and began kissing his beautifully sculpted chest. He twitched and moaned underneath of me. I slid one hand down and kept it over his crotch as my kisses grew more and more intense. I loved the way he tasted – salty, clean: almost like an oyster. As I slid further down Devin’s body, he buried his hands in my hair and gently tugged at my scalp. The sensations that accompanied his fingers were incredible, and I moaned into his jeans as he pulled my hair over and over again.

As quickly as I could, I unfastened Devin’s jeans and pulled them away from his hips. He arched his back, then slid his hands down and hooked his thumbs in his boxers, shoving them off. When he was completely naked, I stared at him and licked my lips. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen, set out before me like a banquet dinner, was enough to drive me wild. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and gently began to slide it up and down.

Devin’s response was incredible. He groaned and thrusted his hips in the air, closing his eyes and straining against the bed as though he were shackled. I grinned and slowly began increasing the speed of my ministrations. As I leaned down, I gently blew on the perfect head of his cock. His strangled cry was the most delightful response. I wrapped my lips around the head and gently began to suck as I pumped one of my hands up and down the base. Devin’s erection was even muskier and saltier than his chest had been, and I eagerly licked circles around his cock until he was groaning and thrusting into my mouth.

Breathing through my nose, I got on all fours and lowered my head over Devin’s manhood again and again. I pumped my hand in tandem speed with my mouth, until I was licking over the veiny column of masculine perfection as quickly as I could. Devin was panting, gasping for air. He twisted and flipped underneath me, his fingers gripping my scalp so hard that my eyes watered. His cock was pulsing and throbbing, and I knew that he didn’t have long before he came. But I was greedy. I wanted his cock inside of me filling me up.

Sitting up, I climbed on top of Devin and straddled his hips. His hard cock poked against me and I moaned softly, adjusting my body over top of his. As he slid inside of me, we cried out together in a loud symphony of lust. Devin dug his fingers into my hips and pulled me down on his cock until I cried out. When he was buried inside of me to the hilt, he reached up and put his fingers under my chin, tilting my face down to look at his.

Devin’s blue eyes were dark and sincere. I could see the lust written plain on his face, but I searched his eyes for any hint of love. He was as guileless as I’d ever seen him.

Do you love me? I thought as I stared into his face. Tell me, do you love me?

There was no answer. Devin shifted his body up, pushing his cock in even deeper. I moaned and threw my head back until the ends of my hair brushed against the small of my back.

You may not love me, I thought as I began grinding my hips on top of Devin. But this is good enough for now.

Devin grabbed my wrists and placed my arms over his head, until my body was pressed against his. My nipples stiffened and rubbed against Devin’s chest, causing me to cry out with lust and pleasure. The sensations building in my lower belly were incredibly intense, and I threw my head back again and moaned loudly. Devin slipped his free hand between our bodies and began to massage my clit. Every time I humped him, every time I moved my hips, I’d come into contact with his thumb. Lightning bolts and fireworks of pleasure were exploding inside of me, and I knew that I couldn’t last for much longer.

“I’d wait for you, baby,” Devin grunted. “But I don’t think I can.” He pulled his hands away and wrapped them around my hips, squeezing my body with his fingers. I moaned. Between his touch, his cock, and my nipples rubbing against his chest, I felt stretched and filled to the brim. My chest burned, and I greedily sucked in a huge mouthful of air as Devin slammed his body against mine.

Devin groaned. He closed his eyes and pressed his face forward, until our foreheads were touching. We were both covered in a fine layer of sweat, and slipping against him with each thrust was making me feel like I was going to explode. I grit my teeth and ground my hips against him, rubbing my swollen clit against his pubic bone. The sensations between my legs intensified, and I roared, biting down on my lower lip until I tasted blood.

Devin pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue eagerly searching. I sucked on his lower lip and cried out with wanton delight as the orgasm finally took hold of my body. Shaking and trembling, I felt the vibrations thrill me again and again. A spike of adrenaline rushed through my limbs, and I was trembling by the time my orgasm was over.

Below me, Devin cried out. His lips trembled against mine as his hips twisted into the air. He slammed his cock into me, crying out loudly into my mouth as he buried himself deep within my soaked pussy. Finally, he tightened his grip on my hips, and I felt his cock begin to pulse and twitch inside of me. Devin let out a wild howl and threw his head back, moaning loudly into the pillow. I gasped as I felt him shake me from the inside out.

My mouth was dry as I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and slowly climbed off my lover. Devin was silent. I stared down at the bed unable to speak. If we’d been back home, I would have pulled the sheet up. But when I realized we’d made love on the hotel bed with nothing underneath of us, I shuddered and got to my feet.

“Are you okay?” Devin let out a cough that sounded surprisingly feeble and elderly for someone of his bulk.

I nodded. “Yeah.” My legs were trembling, and I had to grab the edge of the nightstand so I wouldn’t fall over. “I’m just grossed out by the bed, that’s all.”

Devin smirked. “Baby, I think the bed should be pretty grossed out by us now.” His cock was still hard as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I watched silently as he ripped the bedspread off the bed, then tossed it to the floor.

“What did you do that for?” I put my hands on my hips. My skin was still too warm and damp with sweat, but the chill air of the room was giving me goose bumps. “I’m cold.”

Devin snorted. “Because, Princess Katia doesn’t think the motel washes these things, and you’re probably right,” he added. “We’ll be fine on the sheets. Come on.” He sat back down and pulled the sheet away. They were bleached to a dull white, and after a moment, I crawled into Devin’s arms. We stayed like that, holding each other silently.

“So,” I said. “You said something about pizza?”

Devin chuckled. “You got enough of a workout just now that you can have a slice. Maybe even two,” he added. “Although I’m sure you’ll be eating wheat grass and tofu or whatever it is you vegan nuts eat for a week after this,” he said. I grinned when I realized he was mimicking Anya.

Twenty minutes later, I was wearing my soaked thong and Devin’s black t-shirt. We were sitting on the bed with a large pepperoni in front of us the grease pooling in each little red circle. I groaned. It smelled so good. I didn’t understand how I’d gotten so lucky. An incredible orgasm and pizza in the same night. Was this even my life?

“This is incredible,” I admitted, biting into a slice and chewing fervently. “I haven’t had pizza in years. At least not pizza like this. Only like, healthy pizza with no cheese and broccoli.”

Devin laughed. “It’s a perk of being with me,” he said. “You feeling okay?”

I nodded happily. “How could I not be okay right now? I have a great dinner, and we just had some great sex. Aren’t you happy?”

Devin didn’t answer right away, and I realized my mistake.

“Of course you’re not okay,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry. I was just kidding; I wasn’t even thinking.”

Devin nodded. “I mean, this is great,” he said. “This motel ain’t even all that bad. You should see some of the shitholes I stay in with the Wicked Bones when we’re on the road.”

“Do you miss it?”

“What, the shitty motels?”

I sighed. “No,” I said. “The Wicked Bones? Being an MC president? Kicking ass? Not taking care of this spoiled beauty queen?”

Devin laughed. “Baby, I told you, I don’t think you’re spoiled. At least not that bad.” He eyed me, and I blushed. “I told you that, didn’t I? Last night.”

I blinked. It was hard to believe that everything had happened in one day. Nodding I took another slice of pizza and bit in deeply.

“I miss it,” Devin said. “But this is where I need to be right now.”

We munched in silence for a moment. The post-sex high was starting to wear off, and I was feeling guiltier than ever before. I knew it was all my fault; if Devin hadn’t gotten involved with me, he wouldn’t be here. Someone wouldn’t have pissed all over his stuff, and he’d probably be back with his guys, talking about the fun times he spent as a kept man for a spoiled bimbo.

Part of me wished that I could just call Ryan and agree to do whatever he wanted as long as he’d promise to leave me alone. The thought was enough to make me sick. He’d been so desperately disgusting when I’d seen him before, and that had been years ago. The photo Troy had shown me had spoken volumes. Ryan had not aged well. Maybe if I just give into him, he’ll leave me alone, I thought as I picked at the crust of my pizza. Maybe that’s all I’d have to do.

But glancing at Devin for a second told me that there was no way I’d be able to do it. I could think about it, sure, but there was nothing inside of me that wouldn’t revolt at the mere presence of Ryan Winters. Thinking about kissing him was even worse was nauseating.

“My parents are probably sad that I didn’t do more with my life,” I said listlessly, setting the remnants of my crust down in the box. “They probably wanted me to grow out of the pageant thing. After all, it was only supposed to be temporary.”

Devin snorted. “Baby, they should be proud of you. You’re successful, and you’ve got a great life out here in LA.”

I stared at him. “But it doesn’t mean anything,” I insisted. “I mean, this is LaLaLand. You said it yourself. Nothing that happens here is like the real world.”

Devin leaned over. I thought he was going to tell me something flirtatious or sexy, but instead he just kissed my cheek. I swallowed. The simple interaction was enough to make the butterflies return to my stomach.

“I’m proud of you,” Devin said quietly. “Does that count for anything?”

Chapter Eighteen

Devin

I had a hell of a time waiting for Katia to fall asleep. By how relaxed she’d been that evening, I would’ve thought she was dead tired, but instead, after dinner, we stayed up for two hours watching shitty reruns on the cheap motel TV. Katia kept yawning, but we stayed up past three in the morning. By the time I turned the lights off, I was sure she’d pass out the second her head hit the pillow.

Instead, she took fucking forever. I was lying next to her, and every five or ten minutes, she’d start thrashing around and turn over. Katia was a very particular sleeper; she had to have something like a pillow between her knees, her feet exposed, and her body mostly covered. She’d laughed at me for sleeping with a pillow over my head, but the truth was that she was much fussier than I’ve ever been.

Her breathing stayed normal and regular for hours. I even reached out and touched her to see if she was awake. The first two times, she rolled onto her belly and stared at me. I wanted to fuck her again’ she was so beautiful that I could barely tear my eyes away from her naked body. But I was too tense, now that I knew what I was going to do.

I had to sneak out and take care of this asshole by myself. I didn’t want to put Katia in any more danger, and I didn’t want to risk him doing anything to her condo. He’d already been too much trouble, and if I hadn’t been so caught up in Katia Reynolds’s charms, I would have taken care of the problem already. It wasn’t like me. Most of the time, when I had shit to do, I got the job done like a champ. But right now, I couldn’t focus. It was Katia’s fault; she was so damn enticing that I could barely tear my eyes away from her each time that she batted her long lashes in my direction.

While I hated the thought of leaving her alone, I knew it was something I’d have to do. So finally, when her breathing slowed, I climbed out of bed and waited to see if she’d notice. She rolled over and sighed, but after a few seconds, light snores began coming from her mouth. Holding my breath, I leaned down and gently poked her in the shoulder, but she didn’t stir.

“I’ll be back,” I whispered. “I promise, you’ll be safe here.”

I wanted to tell her something else, something that had been in my mind for a few days now, but I knew that I couldn’t.

It would just have to wait.

Chapter Nineteen

Katia

I woke up in the middle of the night with my throat parched and my mouth tasting of pepperoni. My bladder ached with the need to pee, and I climbed out of bed, frowning when I didn’t feel Devin next to me.

“Devin?” I called as I walked towards the bathroom. “Are you in there?”

There was no reply. Frowning, I turned on the lights of the room.

It was empty. Devin was gone.

He’d left me here all by myself.

I couldn’t believe it. The man I loved, the man who was supposed to be protecting me, had just left.

Gritting my teeth, I wiped the tears that were starting to sting my eyes. I hate you, Devin, I thought angrily as I fumbled for my jeans. I can’t believe I ever thought I loved you.

Chapter Twenty

Devin

I hated leaving Katia alone. As soon as I closed the door behind me and ran out to the parking lot, I felt guilty. It was strange. I’d never felt anything like that before in my life. I didn’t know if it was just the sex or something more, but I had a feeling like I never wanted to be separated from Katia again for the rest of my life. She was everything that I’d always been looking for. If I’d known that I was going to develop feelings for her, well, shit, I probably wouldn’t have taken this job.

But I had taken this job, and now I had no other choice. I had to protect Katia. She was everything to me, and I couldn’t just wait for her stalker, that asshole Ryan Winters, to come out of the darkness and attack her. No, if I was going to do this right, I had to take action myself. And sometimes taking action meant doing the things I feared the most.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered towards the motel as I stood in the parking lot. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I grabbed my phone and pulled it out. In an instant, I had Troy on the other line.

“Hey,” I said quietly. “She’s asleep. I think now’s the best chance we’re gonna have, unless we want to wait longer.”

Troy chuckled. “No, we should go tonight,” he said. “You have your bike?”

“Shit. No, I don’t. We drove in a car. Can you bring it over here?”

Troy sighed. “Man, you’re really—“

“Not now,” I said sharply. “Don’t fucking lecture me about Katia right now. You know I have to keep her safe.”

“And what, she’s too much of a princess to ride on the back of your bike?” I could hear the derision dripping from Troy’s voice as he spoke. “If she’s gonna be your girl, she’s gotta get used to riding like the Bones.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes, bracing my hand against the grimy brick wall. There was so much I wanted to tell Troy. I knew he didn’t feel the same way about Katia as I did, but I wanted to make him understand.

Now wasn’t the time for that talk, though. I’d have to wait until I saw her again, until her stalker was gone and behind bars for the rest of his sad, miserable life. I couldn’t help but grin when I realized how good it would feel to really put that asshole away. I was going to enjoy it as much as I enjoy fucking Katia.

Well, maybe not that much.

I grinned again at the memory of her sweet skin brushing mine, the way she tasted, those petal-soft lips caressing my cock….

“Devin!”

Shit.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m here. What’s up?”

“I just talked to the other guys,” Troy said. “We’re gonna bring your bike by and drop it off. Then you and I can go check out that asshole’s house and hopefully catch him off guard. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” I replied, glancing upwards at the motel window. The lights were still out. Katia must still be asleep. Good.

Troy hung up and I slipped my phone back into my pocket. As I waited for the guys to arrive with my hog, I leaned against the brick wall. My heart was already beating quickly in my chest with the anticipation of confronting this asshole. I was always like this – excited and ready to go at the hint of danger. Growing up, I’d always heard that it made me a wildcard. But now, I knew that I had what it took to stay on top of the game.

I closed my eyes and let myself daydream a little bit. What would Katia say when she realized that I’d caught her stalker? I felt my lips curve into a small smile. I knew she’d be overjoyed. She’d hug me, wrap those long, lean arms around my neck and pull me into a passionate embrace. I could practically feel her hot red lips kissing a slow trail down my neck, sending me into an agonizing state of arousal.

The roar of a bike on the road pulled me out of my fantasy. When I opened my eyes, I saw Troy and Tristan, the Sergeant of Arms, riding towards me. Tristan was on my bike and Troy was on his. Together, they looked like the dark knights of the night, saviors and sinners and saints, all rolled into one.

“Hey, man,” Tristan said. He slowed my bike and climbed off. “I’m gonna catch a cab back. You guys got this?”

Troy nodded. He turned to me. “Devin’s got it under control,” he said darkly. To me, he gave a brief nod. I climbed on my bike. It felt good to spread my thighs over that leather saddle again and to feel the thrum of the strong engine beneath my body.

“I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Troy and I rode off into the black night together. The wind whipping my face was refreshing and damp, and I closed my eyes, letting my bike balance me all the way down the road. The outskirts of LA were deserted, and I let Troy lead the way towards Ryan’s house.

As we zoomed along the dark roads, my mind turned to Katia again. I pictured her naked curled up in bed in that shitty motel. Please don’t wake up, I thought. I’ll be back soon. I’ll be back to rescue you and to keep you safe. Just don’t wake up, and we’ll catch this guy. By the morning, this is all gonna seem like a bad dream.

Troy slowed his bike. “We’re getting close,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s just up there!”

I let out a low whistle as the moon appeared from behind a cloud, shining dull light over the landscape. Ryan’s house was perched on top of a hill with a small iron gate at the entrance. The moonlight made the white-painted brick house look like bleached bone. I could tell he was moneyed, obviously, considering he owned a big house outside of LA. But unlike some of the other bigger homes, Ryan’s wasn’t that ostentatious. There was no pool in the back yard, no hidden grotto. I frowned. It looked almost normal.

“Very retro,” I whispered to Troy as I stashed my bike on the side of the road. “This guy lives like some kind of vintage mogul, huh?”

Troy snorted. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “He might have security.”

I glanced around. “You didn’t check on that beforehand?” I rolled my eyes. Typical Troy.

“No time,” Troy said. He cleared his throat. “I went home with Anya.”

If I hadn’t been holding my breath, I would have laughed.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “We both had fun tonight.”

Troy and I got down on our hands and knees and began scaling the hill, keeping our heads out of sight. When we got closer to the house, I pulled out a pair of military binoculars and started glancing around. As far as I could tell, there weren’t any cameras. There was a small fence enclosing the back yard, but after listening and watching for a couple of minutes, I was sure he didn’t have a dog.

“Come on,” I hissed to Troy. “Let’s go.”

Troy and I army-crawled our way across the lawn. When we reached the back of the house, I reached in my bag for the tool I used to push a sliding door off the track, even with a safety bar. Gritting my teeth, I leaned my weight against the side of the house and pressed with all of my might. The door popped off the track with ease, and I grabbed it with both hands to make sure the glass wouldn’t shatter when it touched the concrete. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I jerked my chin at Troy.

“Come on,” I repeated. “We gotta get inside.”

The inside of Ryan’s living room smelled like rot and something pungent, like dried sweat mixed with oil. I wrinkled my nose as I stepped gingerly onto the carpet inside.

“This way,” Troy whispered. He stepped in behind me, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants and holding it up in the air. “We gotta surprise this fuck.”

I nodded. The walls had looked like they were textured from the outside door, but now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see they were covered with photos torn out of magazines. Blinking, I stepped closer.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Look at this.” I reached out and grabbed Troy’s shoulder and pulled him back. Together, we gazed up at the wall in horror.

“Oh my God,” Troy muttered under his breath. “This guy’s a fucking sicko.”

“No shit,” I whispered back. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

They were all photos of Katia from almost every magazine available. From the cheap, sketchy tabloids to the glossy international fashion magazines, Katia’s face and body covered every inch of the wall. My cock chafed inside my pants as I stared at a particularly sexy photo; Katia spread out over a centerfold, wearing the skimpiest red dress I’d ever seen. It looked more like lingerie than clothes, and when I stepped closer I saw that her nipples were very visible through the sheer material of the “dress.”

“God damn,” Troy said quietly. “This guy’s been hoarding pictures for years!”

It was a level of obsession unlike anything I’d ever seen. One of my best friends growing up had always been obsessed with a certain supermodel from the 80s, Kristina Randall. She was this half-European, half-Japanese chick who looked perpetually horny. His room had been plastered in Kristina Randall posters and spreads. He’d even gotten his dad to shell out eighty bucks for a commemorative print. But even his obsession didn’t come close to what I was looking at. It was like Ryan had no interests other than Katia, like he was so obsessed with her that he had to cover every inch of the wall with her perfect smile.

I felt queasy as I stepped back, staring at all the photos. Some of them were even duplicates. A few of them were so old that I barely recognized Katia. She looked like a child in one photo set on the opposite wall, where she was dressed in short-shorts and a crop top of white lace. Her blonde hair was tied into two pigtails, and she wore a seductive expression on her gorgeous, pouting face as she tongued a candy bar for the cameraman.

Along with the professional photos, there were a few that he must have taken with his own camera when she was unaware. There were ones of her at a café clearly taken from outside the building and ones of her at pageants fixing her makeup and talking to other attendees. These were all creepy but some of the most recent ones caused my mouth to go dry. There were photos of Katia in her bedroom taken from the same angle as the ones she received in the envelope recently. In the photos, she was sleeping, dressing, or watching TV on her bed. If this guy had been watching her, he knew who I was and that Katia and I had slept together.

“This is so fucked up,” I whispered again, more to myself than to Troy. Absorbed in the photos of Katia covering Ryan’s living room, I almost forgot why Troy and I had broken into Ryan’s house in the first place. I was transfixed by the level of sheer insanity.

“I guess he hasn’t had a girl over in a long time,” Troy said quietly. He stepped closer, holding his gun high in the air. “I think she’d probably get the sense of competition, huh?”

“Shut up,” I whispered. “We’re not here for jokes. We gotta find that asshole.”

“Surprised he didn’t have an alarm,” Troy said quietly. “He’s rich enough for that kind of shit, don’t you think?”

I frowned as I stepped into the hallway. Like the living room, every available surface was plastered with photos of Katia. I was shocked when I realized I wasn’t even able to distinguish what color the walls were – there were so many photos that they obscured the paint.

“Shit,” I whispered. “Look.”

Pointing towards the front door, I stared at a plastic security box tacked to the wall.

“Why didn’t that go off?” Troy asked softly. “Is it not armed?”

I sighed, raking a hand through my dark hair. “Maybe he’s not home,” I whispered. “Come on, we gotta keep going.”

Troy and I went up the curved stairs leading to the upstairs and sneaked down the hallway together, him first holding his gun. As I crept stealthily along behind him, I saw that the space was getting narrower and narrower. It was like something from a horror film. I held my breath as I reached the end of the hall. There was only one door.

“This must be the bedroom,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the knob and pushing it open.

Ryan’s bedroom was dark and dim with curtains were pulled over the windows, and I could vaguely make out the shape of an unmade, messy bed. The stale, funky smell was worse in the bedroom than it had been in the living room, and I wrinkled my nose as I walked over to the bed.

“Get up, you fuck!” I growled, pulling the blankets away from the mattress.

There was no one there.

I frowned.

“Hey, he’s not here,” I said, whirling around to face Troy. “Where the fuck did that asshole go?”

Troy was standing behind me with his hands pressed to his head, his gun on the floor in front of him. A short, squat balding man was standing behind him with a nasty grin on his round face.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ryan said. His voice was oddly whiny and high-pitched, almost like a teenage girl’s. “I guess that asshole decided to get up for a snack when he saw intruders near my house.” He cackled and held a gun up in the air. “You!”

“What?” I glared at him. “I don’t have a gun,” I said shrugging. I knew that men like Ryan were like time bombs just waiting to go off. And with my luck, he was about to explode right before my eyes.

“You little shits,” Ryan said. “I oughta call the cops and throw your asses in jail.” He grunted, grabbing Troy by the back of the neck and forcing him out of the room.

“Hey,” I said quickly. “Come on, we can settle this like men.” As slowly as I could, I slipped my hand into my back pocket, reaching for my folding knife.

Ryan glared at me. “What are you? Some thug looking for money? Drugs?” He threw his head back and laughed. “You know, I gave that shit up ages ago, and all my money’s in the bank.”

I stared at him, trying to stay calm. I could tell from Troy’s eyes that he was panicking, but I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I could get Troy’s gun if I could only inch forward and pick it up without Ryan noticing. I just had to keep him on guard, make him think that we were dangerous.

My lips curled into a grin, and I tried to hold it in place as I raised my eyebrows towards Ryan.

“You’re one sick fuck,” I said slowly, taking a step forward. “You’ve stalked Katia Reynolds for what, months now? And we’re here to deal with that little problem,” I added. “It’s just too bad that we caught you at home.”

“Why is that?” Ryan asked slowly. “You sad about the fact that you didn’t have enough time to jack off to those pictures?” He smirked, and I groaned inwardly. “I’ve got a nice collection, which has grown since I installed the camera in her bedroom. I don’t know why I didn’t do that sooner,” he laughed spraying spittle on me.

Ryan got a glimpse of me in the thin stripe of moonlight that peeked through a crack between the curtains and snickered. A nasty feeling began to form in the pit of my stomach when I realized that he figured out who I was. Shit.

“I recognize you,” he said as he took a step forward. The gun started to shake in his hand as his rage grew. “You’re the piece of trash who’s been fucking my girl.” His voice had risen an octave by the time he finished the sentence.

“Calm down, man” Troy said as he placed his gun on the floor in an act of surrender. “Let’s talk this out. He didn’t know that she was your girl.” He explained, taking a step toward Ryan with his arms out in a placating gesture.

Ryan only made an animalistic noise of rage and disgust and turned his attention back to me. Troy took this opportunity to leap for Ryan trying to pin him to the ground. For a moment, they tussled. Then Troy fell to the ground with a cry of pain when he twisted his ankle on the way down. In a flash, Ryan was down on his knees, reaching over Troy to grab the gun.

Ryan threw his head back and began to laugh. “I’ve got the guns now,” he said. “You boys wanna come with me into the living room?”

I glared at Troy. I knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but we’d made a huge fucking mess of this whole plan. Troy wasn’t meeting my eyes, and I could tell that he was feeling like shit. My heart thundered in my chest like an angry beast as Ryan shoved prodded us forward down the hall towards the living room.

Shit. I should’ve planned for something like this. Now that asshole’s going to find out where Katia is. A cold sweat broke out over the back of my neck as I realized the plastic motel key was still in my pocket, and the tag was engraved with the name of the motel. I hadn’t just shown Ryan a lack of planning, I’d basically led him right to Katia’s whereabouts.

Still, there was a chance Troy and I would be able to overpower him if the opportunity arose. I glanced at Troy and tried to form a plan. Come on, we’ve got to take him, I thought, staring deeply into Troy’s face. He only rolled his eyes in response.

“Now,” Ryan said. He rubbed his hands together and shoved Troy towards the living room. Troy groaned as he accidentally leaned on his injured ankle. “We’re going to have a little talk, boys.”

“We’re not doing shit,” I growled. “We’re getting the fuck out of here, and you’re going to prison!”

Ryan laughed. It was cold, high-pitched sound. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I watched his expression change from irritated to bemused. I turned on my heel and stomped towards him with my head down in defense, but as I approached him, Ryan pulled out a third gun.

“I have extras,” Ryan said. He winked at me.

The next few seconds were a blur. I dove towards Ryan, intending to grab him around the legs and tackle him to the ground, but before I could reach him, I heard the terrifying crack of his gun going off. For a moment, I held my breath, flinching and waiting for the burning pain. When I didn’t feel anything, I opened my eyes to see Troy sitting on the floor with his hands wrapped around his leg.

“Shit!” Troy groaned. “Shit, this fucking hurts! You fucking asshole!” Blood was pouring from the gunshot wound on his thigh as he glared at Ryan. “You fucking shot me!”

“You broke into my home,” Ryan said in a voice full of maddening calm. “You should be grateful that I didn’t shoot you in the head.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled. “You’re not gonna get away with this, you shithead!”

Ryan aimed the gun at me. I held my breath as I watched him slowly lower his arm.

“Devin!” Troy yelled. I whirled around and saw that he was lying supine with his eyes closed. The formerly small pool of blood around him had nearly tripled in the past thirty seconds, and his face looked pale.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Fucking hell!”

I wanted more than anything to tackle Ryan to the ground, to tie him up, to maybe give him a few punches and kicks, and to call the cops and make sure that he’d be locked away for the rest of his life. But now I had to help Troy. He was bleeding out all over Ryan’s hallway, and he’d be dead unless I acted fast.

I got to my knees and pulled my t-shirt over my head, ripping the thin cotton into strips. As Troy groaned and moaned, I wrapped a couple of the strips around his thigh into a makeshift tourniquet. The blood was still gushing, and I could tell that Ryan’s bullet had hit a major artery.

“I’m cold,” Troy said. “I’m fucking freezing right now.”

I put my hand on his forehead. His skin was chilled and clammy.

“That’s not good,” I said grimly. “Come on. I’ll try to get you patched up as best I can.”

Troy didn’t say anything as I picked him up, but as I carried him into the kitchen, he let out a low groan of pain. I could tell that he was still losing a lot of blood, and unless I acted quickly, he’d lose even more.

“I gotta get you stabilized,” I muttered under my breath. Behind me, I could hear Ryan moving around.

“You boys,” Ryan said. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that he was smirking.

“You gonna shoot me, too?” I asked. “’Cause I’d recommend you just fuckin’ do it and get it out of the way if that’s what you’re after.”

Ryan stared at me coldly. “I’m not going to shoot you,” he said. “Even though I should.” I felt my stomach twist and flip as he grinned. “I’m going to go pay a visit to Ms. Reynolds instead,” Ryan said.

He held up the plastic motel key. I let out a groan when I felt my pocket and it was empty. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I’d knelt down to pick Troy up.

“The Twin Gables Motel…” Ryan read off the key tag with a nasty smirk spreading across his face. “That seems a bit low class for Ms. Reynolds, don’t you think?”

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled. I placed Troy down on Ryan’s kitchen table, probably with a little more force than I needed to. As Troy howled in pain, Ryan’s grin grew even wider.

“Oh, I’m going to touch her,” Ryan said. He licked his lips and rubbed his greedy little hands together in front of his paunchy chest. “I’m going to do lots of things, Devin.”

My blood went cold as I pictured Katia spread-eagled and tied up on the motel bed with Ryan leering over her like a maniac.

“You’re not going to fucking look at her,” I hissed. Reaching down, I added another strip of cotton around Troy’s leg. “You’re going to leave her alone.” I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible. Even though I was afraid of Ryan, I didn’t want him to know that.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan grinned. He held the gun towards Troy and me, and before I could stop him, he’d fired again.

Again, I waited for the burning pain to seize my limbs. Instead, Troy let out a wild scream of pain. I looked down and saw blood pouring from a new wound on his arm.

“Shit!” I yelled. “Fuck!”

Troy started thrashing around on the table, moaning and screaming and waving his wounded arm. Blood splattered across my face, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand as I grabbed Troy and forced his arm down to the table.

“You need to stay calm!” I yelled. “Fucking stop moving around!”

“It hurts like hell,” Troy groaned. Beads of sweat were dripping into his eyes despite the slightly cool temperature of the room.

“I know,” I said. “I’m gonna help you, okay. Just stay put,” I ordered. Reaching down, I ripped the remainder of shirt into strips and wrapped them around Troy’s arm. He let out a fierce groan of pain as I tightened the cotton between his shoulder and elbow. The bullet wound was ragged and smoking, and I could see his flesh had been scorched by the shot.

“It’s a clean wound,” I mumbled, wrapping the cotton tightly around Troy’s arm and knotting it off. “You’ll be okay, man.”

Troy gazed up at me, his eyes wide with pain and fear. “He’s gone, Devin,” he whispered. “He just ran away.”

“Fuck!” I screamed. Angry tears came to my eyes and dripped down my face. As the rage and hatred filled my body, I knew that I had failed the only woman I’d ever loved.

Chapter Twenty-One

Katia

I was all alone again. I couldn’t believe it. Devin had left me – he’d actually left while I was sleeping like a fucking coward. I was torn between being more pissed off than I’d ever felt in my life and bitterly upset. I wanted to cry and scream. I wanted to rip the cheap, paper-thin sheets off the motel bed and throw them down on the floor and wail until I was blue in the face.

But none of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Devin was gone, and I had a feeling I’d never see him again.

I wanted to ask him why. Why now? Why had he chosen to make me vulnerable, to make me believe that I was safe and then run out like a coward?

Setting my lips in a thin line, I walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light. My reflection in the mirror was about as haggard and unattractive as I’d ever seen it. I was pale and wan with little color in my cheeks. The fluorescent lighting didn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t just blame it on that. There was more to it. It was like something had changed inside of me, deep down, and I’d never be able to bring it back to the surface again.

Oddly, I couldn’t will myself to cry anymore. I’d been crying so much in the past month, but right now, I was too angry. My hands were shaking, and I gripped the bathroom counter and leaned close to the mirror, staring at my green eyes.

“Of course he wouldn’t want me,” I muttered to myself, eyeing my bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes. There was a weird dry patch on one of my cheeks, and my hair was greasy and lank. I looked about as far from a beauty queen as ever. Shit, I’d probably looked better when I was a little kid with leukemia.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Devin approaching me. He was wearing that infuriating cocky grin and reaching out to touch me. Goosebumps broke out over my skin and I wrapped my arms around myself, holding myself together. I didn’t want him to affect me like this.

I wanted to call Anya. Shaking my head, I walked out of the bathroom and flopped down on the bed. As I picked up my phone, I took a deep breath. I knew what she was going to say: “I told you so.”

Thinking about her with Troy was bad enough, but what if she and Troy decided they actually wanted to date? What if it wasn’t just a one-night stand? What if it was something more?

I saw myself, months in the future, forcing a grin and watching as Anya and Troy strolled down the aisle of a church together. Devin was standing across from me, he was grinning too. But his eyes weren’t on Anya and Troy, or even on me; they were on some girl in the pews. Some blonde who was staring back at him with rapt adoration. She wasn’t a complicated girl or a beauty queen, even though she was pretty enough to be one. But she wasn’t me, and that’s what stung the most. Maybe she was someone Devin had picked up in a bar, or maybe she was Wicked Bones groupie, but it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that he’d chosen to be with her.

The call to Anya went straight to voicemail. In a fit of anger, I threw my phone down on the floor and watched with a disgusted kind of satisfaction as the screen cracked. I couldn’t believe she was still ignoring me! She couldn’t still be with Troy. It had been hours! Ugh. I rolled my eyes. Why is she still him while I’m alone?

I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, especially not Anya, but I was feeling seriously jealous of her at the moment.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and shoved it in my purse. My clothes were scattered around the motel room, and I picked them up and slowly got dressed. My legs felt like they were disconnected from my body, and it took a long time to get my clothes all the way on. When I was done dressing, I perched gingerly on the edge of the mattress.

I didn’t know what to do. The car was still in the parking lot, but Devin had taken the car keys with him. I figured I could always call for a cab and go home. A small smile of satisfaction crept across my face when I realized that whatever happened to me was Devin’s fault. He wouldn’t be getting paid now that he’d basically abandoned me in the grossest motel I’d ever seen.

I decided that I was going to go home and take a long bath. I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget about this easily, but I didn’t care. I had to make Devin see that I didn’t really care about him. Hell, it wasn’t even that late. I could still go out to a club and meet a guy or two. The thought filled me with dread and turned my stomach, but I was determined to prove to myself and Devin that I could survive without him.

He’d left me. That had been his choice, and now I was going to make him pay for it. I knew it was fucked up. I should have crying curled up in a ball. But that wasn’t how Katia Reynolds had operated. Katia Reynolds had always been mercenary. Katia Reynolds had always made sure that she was number one and that all her needs were taken care of.

I wasn’t going to let some scruffy biker break my heart.

Hiking my bag over my shoulder, I walked into the cool, dark night. The air was like a balmy kiss on my dry face, and I sighed, breathing in the disgusting scent of motor oil, engine grease, and the unmistakable odor of fried food. I bet this cab fare is going to be huge, I thought with a sigh as I walked down the motel corridor and into the parking lot.

After calling a local LA cab company, I decided to wait by the road. I waited under the dim glow of the only streetlamp that was still working. The road was broken and cracked with blades of grass and greenery showing through the ruined asphalt. I’d always gotten a kick out of how plants could grow through concrete. How could something so small, so delicate thrive in such a harsh world?

But then, I might have been talking about myself.

“God, take a little longer why don’t you,” I said softly, glancing down at the cracked screen of my phone. The time was just after three in the morning. I closed my eyes and listened for the cab, but the only sounds around me were a soft hooting in the woods and the low buzz of the fluorescent motel sign staked into the roadside.

Finally, I saw twin headlights bouncing down the road. As they turned into the motel parking lot, I felt a strange rush of relief. I ran a hand through my knotted, greasy hair, already starting to feel just a little better about my situation. This place is creepy, I thought.

The car slowed to a stop. when I stepped closer, I noticed that it wasn’t a car at all. It was a van. Immediately I rolled my eyes. Of course. I’d called for a cab so early they probably thought I was going to the airport. I hated riding in vans, especially when they were crammed full of other smelly people going to the airport in the middle of the night. It had been my least favorite thing about traveling to pageants before I’d made enough money to hire a private driver.

Glancing up at the van, I twisted my face in disgust. There weren’t even windows in the back. How the fuck was I supposed to watch the road if there weren’t any windows?

Stepping closer, I cleared my throat. I had to explain to the driver that there had been a mistake, that I wasn’t going to the airport, and could they please send a regular cab? I was sure the cabbie would grumpy, but I didn’t give a shit. I was Katia Goddamned Reynolds, and I wasn’t riding in the back of some utility van like a migrant worker.

“Hello?” I said sharply, stepping closer to the van. The headlights shone brightly in front of me, capturing particles of dust and dirt in their rays.

“Hello?” I tried again.

The cabbie still hadn’t rolled down the window. The windshield and windows were tinted dark, so I could barely make out the shape of a man behind the wheel.

Great. He’s going to make me open the fucking door. What an asshole. I’m never using LA Cabs again. They’re going to hear about this!

Rolling my eyes, I stalked over to the passenger side of the van and yanked the door open. When I saw who was sitting in the driver’s seat, I screamed.

It was Ryan Winters.

His scruffy, scraggly hair was pushed back behind his ears, and the bald spot on his head was even larger than it had been when I’d met him at the pageant. He grinned when he saw me.

Startled, I let out a yelp and darted backwards from the van. My heels caught in a crack on the pavement, and I screamed as I crashed painfully to the ground. Bits of gravel and glass dug into the soft flesh of palms, and my ankle throbbed.

Ryan moved with surprising speed for such a porky man. He leapt out of the driver’s side and advanced on me, grinning evilly. There was a glint in his dark eyes, and I could practically see drool falling from his mouth.

“Hello, Katia,” Ryan said. “I was hoping to find you here. I didn’t expect you to be waiting on the road for me.”

I let out a wild scream as I tried to climb to my feet. My heel was firmly wedged in the crack of the asphalt, and I screamed again as a white-hot pain shot up my leg. Finally, in desperation, I kicked the shoe away from my foot and took off limping back towards the motel.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I bolted up the cheap metal staircase. I could tell that Ryan was in hot pursuit. His body thundered up the stairs with three times as much noise as I’d made. I let out another ear-piercing scream and started banging on all the motel doors, desperate for someone to save me.

“Help me!” I screamed as I ran down the hall. “Please, someone! Anyone, help! Help me!” My voice was a high, unintelligible screech. As I reached the end of the hall, I dropped my bag and frantically dropped to my knees to dig for my phone. I had almost finished dialing 9-1-1 when Ryan wrapped his grubby fingers around my arm and pulled me back from my bag. I skidded along the metal floor like I weighed nothing at all. As I let out another loud shriek, Ryan slapped my face. It stung, and for a moment I was silent.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ryan said. He was breathing hard, and his fat body was heaving with every gasp of air he took. “I’ve got a fucking gun, Katia. You’re coming with me.”

“I don’t believe you. Help!” I screamed, pounding on a door with my fists over and over. With a wail of panic, I realized it was my own room at the motel, and Devin wasn’t going to answer the door because he’d already left me forever.

“Come on,” Ryan said. He snapped his fingers. “Get the fuck up; you’re coming with me. Come on!”

Trembling, I climbed to my feet. Just as I was deciding how to make a run for it, Ryan held up a gun and pushed it towards my temple.

“Katia, hurry the fuck up,” Ryan snapped under his breath. “Come on.”

I yelped in fright as Ryan slapped the side of my face with the gun. It hurt, and I screeched as pain radiated through my face. Whimpering, I put my fingers up to my temple. They came back sticky and red, and I began trembling as I realized I was bleeding from a cut to the head.

“Keep your goddamned voice down,” Ryan grunted. He dug his sausage fingers painfully into my arm as he began dragging me down the hall and the metal staircase.

God, no, please, Devin come back! I closed my eyes as hot tears leaked out of my eyes. Suddenly, I was struck with the horrifying thought that I was never going to see Devin again. When I remembered how I’d felt back in the motel room, lying in bed next to Devin, I wanted to vomit.

For a moment, I’d actually thought about sleeping with Ryan, just to get him to leave me alone. I’d curled closer to Devin and put all thoughts of Ryan’s slimy persona out of my mind. I didn’t want him; I didn’t even want to look at him.

I wanted Devin. I wanted the man that I loved. I wanted Devin to come back and protect me.

As Ryan dragged me across the parking lot by my hair, I let out a terrified whimper when the van was in sight. I let out another shriek when Ryan whacked me over the head with the gun again.

“If you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut, I’m going to shoot you,” Ryan said through gritted teeth. “And trust me, I don’t want no dead beauty queen on my hands.” He laughed like he’d just made the joke of the century.

“I hate you,” I sobbed. Tears dripped down my face as Ryan forced me across the parking lot, towards the utility van. The headlights were still shining brightly over the motel parking lot and for a desperate moment, I craned my neck and looked around, hoping that some stunned bystander was watching everything and was able to help me.

“Don’t even think about opening your yap again,” Ryan grunted. He shoved the barrel of the gun against my neck, and I flinched at the sensation of cold metal against my delicate skin.

“I hate you,” I repeated. The tears had finally stopped, but I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread as Ryan guided me into the back of the van.

“I don’t give a shit about that now,” Ryan said. He seemed to have calmed down. “You’re not going to hate me forever, Katia.” He glanced up at me and smiled. “Someday, you’re going to love me because you’re going to realize that I’m the only one in the world who can understand you.”

I swallowed hard. A nervous lump had formed in my stomach, and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to get away from Ryan. He kept his fingers securely wrapped around my upper arm, even after I’d climbed into the back of the van. I winced; I knew I was going to have a bruise there.

“What are you talking about?” I asked slowly. “You’re kidnapping me, Ryan.”

Ryan snorted. “I don’t see it that way,” he said. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. “I’m helping you, Katia. This isn’t bad, it’s really not.”

I stared at him. Before, I’d always assumed that he knew what he was doing was wrong. But this made everything different. Did he actually think that I was going to fall in love with him because he’d kidnapped me?

“I’m telling you,” Ryan continued. Finally, he relaxed his grip on my arm, but he still didn’t let go. Instead, he stroked my bare skin with one of his greasy, fat fingers. “This is a good thing, Katia. You’re going to realize that you were really missing out on me all those years.”

I blinked at him. “Ryan, this is illegal,” I said softly. Suddenly, I was hit with a burst of inspiration. “And if anyone catches you, which they probably will, you’re going to prison for a long time. I have a bodyguard, you know,” I said, trying to look tough. “And he’s not going to be very happy when he realizes that you’ve kidnapped me.”

Ryan burst out laughing. I stared at him in horror.

“Honey, that doesn’t mean shit to me,” Ryan said calmly. “This is just between you and me now. No one knows that I’ve got you.”

I blinked. “You’re kidding,” I said uncertainly. “I think a lot of people know that you’ve got me, and it’s only a matter of time before they come to get me.”

Ryan laughed again. He stroked my arm again, and my skin tingled and itched under his unwelcome touch. I longed to yank my arm away from him.

“Honey, you’re going to see that this is all for the best,” Ryan said calmly. “Just trust Daddy.”

I stared at him in revulsion. “I’m not calling you that,” I muttered. “No fucking way.”

In a split second, Ryan’s demeanor changed from sickly-sweet to furious once more. When he slapped me across the face, I cried out in pain.

“You’ll do exactly what I tell you, you little cunt,” Ryan spat. “Don’t forget. I’m in charge now.”

Tears oozed from my eyes as I leaned against the cold metal wall of the utility van. Oh, don’t worry, I thought bitterly. I could never forget. Not even if I wanted to.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Devin

It took a long time to get Troy stabilized. I wasted precious minutes trying to make sure that he wasn’t going to bleed out all over Ryan Winter’s kitchen. Finally, I grabbed him and slung him over my shoulder, carrying him out of the house and setting him down on the grass.

Troy was fading in and out of consciousness. As he looked up at me with a pained, terrified expression, I could immediately tell that he was making mental preparations to die.

“You’re gonna be okay, buddy,” I told him, patting him roughly on the top of the head. “You just gotta hang out here for a little while, okay? The paramedics are on their way.”

“Devin,” Troy croaked. “Don’t leave – please don’t leave.”

“I have to go find Katia,” I said grimly. “I know that monster has plans for her, and I gotta catch them both before he does something awful.”

Troy didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and sank further into the wet grass, looking paler by the second.

“Go,” he whispered. “And make sure Anya’s okay.”

“Will do,” I said. I cuffed him gently on the side of the head. “And you’re gonna be okay, Troy. You’re gonna pull through this.”

As I ran down the wet grassy hill, I was filled with dread. I had no clue whether Troy would live or die. He’d been shot twice, one of which nicked a major artery, and my cotton shirt hadn’t done much to staunch the blood. He’d been fading fast, and if he didn’t make it to a hospital soon, he’d be gone.

I made an anonymous call to 911, alerting them to Troy’s condition and whereabouts. Then I pulled a spare shirt out of my bike’s saddlebags and pulled it down over my head. The cotton felt good against my bare skin, and I gritted my teeth as I climbed astride my bike. Before I could start the engine, I knew I had one more call to make.

Thankfully, Anya answered on the first ring.

“Hello? Devin? Her voice was high and panicked. “Where the hell are you? Where’s Troy? Where’s Katia?”

I sighed. “Troy’s been shot, Anya,” I said heavily. “He’s outside Ryan’s home, and I’ve already called the emergency services. You need to stay with him. He was shot in the thigh and the arm, and I did all I could to stop the bleeding but I’m not sure that he’s going to make it.”

Anya was silent for a moment. When she let out a sob, I felt it tug at my heartstrings. I felt like the worst kind of shit for leaving my best buddy behind me in the grass, but I knew that unless I acted fast, Ryan would hurt Katia.

“What about Katia?” Anya’s voice was quiet and soft. I knew she was scared.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I went to catch that asshole Ryan myself, but obviously, things didn’t go well. He shot Troy and then took off when I was patching him up. I have a feeling he went straight for Katia.”

“Jesus Christ,” Anya muttered. “What the fuck do we do?”

“Just worry about Troy,” I said darkly. “I’ll call when I have more news.”

I hung up before Anya could start crying again. Then I kick started my bike and headed back towards the Twin Gables Motel.

Part of me couldn’t help but think that maybe this was all over. Maybe Ryan had crashed on his way to get Katia, or maybe he’d lost his nerve. Maybe he’d been pulled over by the cops or something. Hell, maybe he’d even given up after he realized that he’d just shot a man twice. But I couldn’t shake the sense that something was seriously wrong.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I glanced up at the room. I sighed with relief when I saw that the lights were still off, but my mouth went dry as my eyes landed on the door that was slightly ajar. With my heart beating a thudding rhythm in my chest, I walked into the motel office.

The office was dimly lit and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. I coughed and then slammed my hand down on the little bell that rested on top of the counter.

“Hello?” I yelled. “Anyone here?”

A few moments later, an older guy came forward. He had deep-set brown eyes and bushy eyebrows. He looked harmless, but also like the kind of guy who’d been shooting heroin since he was a teenager. He could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty.

“Can I help you?” The man coughed. “You lookin’ for a room?”

“Uh, no,” I said. “I’m looking for a woman. She’s tall and blonde, named Katia. She was staying here tonight, but I have reason to believe that she was abducted.”

The man closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “I’ll check the register,” he said. He reached for a grimy book and started flipping through the pages. Finally, he slid his finger down a grease-spotted white page and pointed to Katia’s name. My stomach froze when I realized it was the same entry I’d made hours earlier back when things were still normal.

“She checked out,” the man said. “There was some fuss. Then a guy came in here and gave me the key and drove off in a white van. He said that she was his wife. They had a fight earlier and she threatened to leave him, but they made up and went home.” He chuckled as he dug in his pocket for a moment and pulled out the same plastic tag that had been in my pocket.

I groaned. “Shit,” I muttered.

“What? Somethin’ wrong? Are you her boyfriend?” he asked with a mischievous cackle.

“Not exactly,” I spat. “Did you see which way they went?” I knew it was a long shot, but I had to ask.

He scratched his head while he thought. “I think they took a right out of the parking lot, but I can’t be sure.”

‘Thanks,” I mutter gruffly under my breath as I turned to stalk out of the motel office and stare at the parking lot. I knew I had to find Katia, but where the hell had Ryan taken her?

I was so worried about Katia that I felt like I was going to be sick. At any point, Ryan could kill her. After almost a month of taking care of her, she could be gone. I had let down the only woman I’d ever loved.

Stop making this about you, I thought. It’s not about you. You have to save Katia. If anything, you’ve just proven yourself even more unworthy of her than you already thought.

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. Finally, I jumped on my bike. I had no idea where they would have gone, but I guess I’d go right. That road led away from Ryan’s house. I didn’t think he would dare to bring Katia back to his house, not with the blood and glass everywhere in the kitchen.

I was totally fucked.

Finally, I closed my eyes and tried to sense Katia. I know it sounds stupid. Hell, it was stupid. But that was the only thing I had to go on. Starting up my bike, I took a breath before turning right down the dark, cracked road. I had to catch up to them; I had to make sure that Katia was safe.

I was going sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety on the back roads outside of LA. As I sped down the road, the trees turned into a blur. I closed my eyes as the wind stung my face. Even though it wasn’t cold outside, my arms were soon freezing from the fast breeze whipping past me. Still, I pushed on faster and faster, until I was passing cars left and right.

Finally, I caught a glimpse of a white utility van. It was speeding down the side of the road, swerving and turning. I didn’t know whether or not it was Ryan’s van, but I had to take a chance. I caught up, tailing the van until it was so close I could memorize the license plate. If I closed my eyes and listened, I thought I could almost hear Katia hollering through the metal van and into the nighttime air.

“I’m coming!” I yelled loudly. I didn’t know if she would hear me. Hell, Ryan might have her bound and gagged. But I wanted her to know that I wouldn’t give up on her without a fight.

Still, I didn’t know what to do. Ryan could theoretically keep driving for hours. But at some point, he’d have to stop for gas. It was risky, but I decided my best chance was to wait until he’d pulled into a gas station. When he went inside to pay, I could rescue Katia and get her the hell away from that monster.

I couldn’t do anything that would put Katia in danger. I couldn’t hurt her, or even take a risk. After all, she was probably traumatized and terrified. I couldn’t imagine what that asshole had said to her to make her get in the van. When I thought of him turning a gun on her and forcing her against her will, my blood boiled an angry red. I wanted to make him pay.

It was enough to make me forget about my past troubles with the law. Ryan was one big fucking monster, but that didn’t mean the cops would show up and instantly let me off the hook. After all, the Wicked Bones was responsible for some of the worst crime in LA history. It was ironic; I’d somehow thought that working for Katia would spare me from anything else illegal and here I was, fucking tailing a van, just because I thought she was inside.

The van swerved and almost spun off the road, but the driver managed to right it at the last second. We were crawling up a steep embankment now, and my bike was really feeling the incline. As I pushed on further and harder, I gritted my teeth and leaned over the handlebars. I knew that I was still acting risky since I was within eyesight of the van. Ryan still had both guns, and it wouldn’t have been hard to shoot me. All he had to do was aim.

Please don’t notice me, I begged silently as I tailed behind the white van.

Finally, the van slid into a service center. I slowed down by a clump of bushes and peered around, waiting for Ryan to climb out of the van. But nothing happened. No doors opened, and there was no sound. Frowning, I listened as closely as I could.

It was then that I realized I was going to need help. As much as I wanted to show up and be Katia’s knight in shining armor, I wouldn’t be able to do this myself. I’d need some serious help from the rest of the guys.

As quickly as I could, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Tristan.

“Yo,” Tristan grunted. “What’s up?”

“I’m outside of LA, tailing Katia,” I said. “Ryan’s got her in a van. And the bastard shot Troy. He should be on his way to the hospital now, but I’m alone.”

“You want me there?”

“Bring Marlo and Pauly,” I said quickly. “And fucking hurry. We’re stopped at the Wooden Creek gas station, but he hasn’t even gotten out of the van. Some bad shit’s gonna happen if we can’t rescue her.”

Tristan sighed. “Dev, you got this,” he said carefully. “Don’t fuckin’ worry. We got your back.” I could picture him smirking. “We’re the Wicked Bones, ain’t we? This is nothing,” Tristan added.

I hung up and shoved my phone in my pocket. There was still no sign of life or movement from the van, and I knew Tristan, Marlo, and Pauly would be at least half an hour away.

And right now, all I could do was wait.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Katia

Ryan dumped me in the back of the van and crawled in with me. I stared out the windshield at the distant blinking lights of the motel sign in a state of shock, until Ryan’s face loomed over me.

“You know what we’re gonna do?” Ryan leaned close. His breath was stale and foul like he’d been eating canned tuna.

“I don’t want to know,” I moaned. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the metal sides of the van. I knew that I should feel exhausted. After all, I’d barely slept in days, and napping next to Devin didn’t count. But I was high on adrenaline, and my blood was singing through my veins.

“That’s no way to talk to me,” Ryan snapped. I stared at him. The switch was immediate; again, he’d vacillated quickly from calm and seemingly happy to angry in seconds. “You need to show respect!”

I narrowed my eyes. “I need to show respect to an asshole who kidnapped me?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I knew it was dangerous to piss Ryan off, but I was so fucking tired of being told what to feel and what to think. It was something I’d had to deal with every single day that I’d lived in LA, and it didn’t seem like Ryan was going to cut me any slack.

The slap across the face was almost welcome. I still cried out. It hurt more than the previous slaps. Ryan was escalating.

“There’s more of where that came from if you can’t fucking be respectful,” Ryan snarled. He leaned close. Instinctively, I flinched and tried to flatten my body against the wall of the back of the van.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “What are we going to do, Ryan?”

Ryan perked up at the way I’d said his name.

“No, that’s not quite right,” he said. He frowned. “You’re not going to call me Ryan. Try Mr. Winter.”

I shook my head. Just as I was about to protest, I felt a hot shock of pain surging through my body. Crying out, I glanced down and realized that Ryan was pressing something small and hard and made of plastic against my thigh. The pain was still vibrating in my limbs and I felt dizzy. My mouth tasted like burnt metal.

“You know what this is?” Ryan asked. He held up the plastic device. I whimpered when I saw the two tiny metal prongs sticking out of the plastic box.

I shook my head. My body was still buzzing from the last shock, and I didn’t want him to hurt me again. I shuddered at the thought that he had even worse things up his sleeve.

“Well, that’s fine for now,” Ryan said. He smirked at me. “You don’t have to know a lot of things to be a beauty queen, do you?”

I slumped down against the metal wall and pulled my knees close. Resting my chin on them, I tried to pretend that I was just in a very uncomfortable waiting room. I’ve not been kidnapped, I thought as a tear leaked down my cheek. I’m just waiting for my doctor.

“Tell me, Katia, what’s the most important part of being a beauty queen?” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “I wanna know.”

“Why are you asking me this?” I stared at him. “Can’t you just do whatever you want with me and let me go again?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.

Ryan’s stare turned murderous. “If you’re not going to play my little game, I’ll just have to make you realize that’s your best chance,” Ryan said. He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me close to him.

I struggled and fought, but when Ryan held up the small plastic Taser again, I went limp.

He grinned. “Good girl,” Ryan said softly. He pressed his lips to mine and pressed down. I screamed and shrieked, pulling away from him. The shocking pain that blasted through my body seconds before was horrifying, but not as horrifying as being forced to kiss Ryan had been.

“Leave me alone!” I shrieked. I began kicking and thrashing, trying to hit him with the balls of my feet. Somehow, Ryan managed to evade every kick.

Ryan grinned. “Okay, Katia,” he said. “If that’s what you want.” He grinned again, and I felt my stomach sinking. “Trust me,” he added. “You’ll be begging me to pay attention to you again by the time this is all over.”

I blinked. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was sick of talking to him. As Ryan pushed me further into the back of the van, he wiped his hands on his jeans and began crawling towards the front. I watched breathlessly as he climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted the van into gear. We sped out of the motel parking lot with alarming speed, and I cried out in pain as my body slammed against the wall of the van.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ryan called from the driver’s seat. “Go ahead and scream, baby. No one’s listening to you!”

My head was thumping in agony, and I had a sharp pain in my ribs that hurt whenever I breathed. Curling up in a ball, I rested my head on my arms. Ryan turned on the radio and soon the van was filled with the cheery, chirpy sounds of pop music.

“I hope this music is okay!” Ryan called loudly. “You’re gonna be hearing it for quite some time!”

The adrenaline rush that had started back in the motel parking lot was beginning to ebb but hearing the pop music made me feel panicked once more. The volume was so loud that it was hurting my head, and every time Ryan turned the van around a curve, I thought I was going to be sick.

I closed my eyes and began to pray.

Dear God,

Please let Devin save me. Please him let him be okay. I know I haven’t always been very nice to him….or to anyone else. But I really love him. I swear, I wasn’t thinking about hooking up with another guy just to make him jealous!

Well, okay, maybe I was.

But I didn’t mean it! You know that! You know me. God, please, I’m so scared. I promise if you get me out of this or help Devin get me out of this, I’ll never be a bad Christian again. I’ll even start going to church again.

The van lurched to the side, and I slid across the metal floor, slamming my head against the opposite wall. I saw stars fluttering around me and I moaned softly, burying my face in my hands. The cut on my temple had scabbed over, but I could feel that I had a huge, egg-sized knot on the side of my head. It ached with every heartbeat, and my eyes filled with tears even though I knew crying would just wind up hurting me more.

“You’re being awful quiet back there!” Ryan yelled. He slowed the van down and pulled off on the side of the road.

I gasped. I didn’t know why we were stopping, but I didn’t like it.

Ryan turned the ignition off and climbed into the back of the van. He was carrying something in his hand. It was a pink case with a white zipper.

“You recognize this?”

I shook my head. My heart was in my throat because I just knew it was going to be some kind of awful torture device like the Taser.

“No,” I said softly.

“By the way,” Ryan said. His voice had gone back to sounding kind and warm. “I think I do want you calling me Mr. Winter. Let’s try it out, shall we?”

I licked my lips. My mouth was dry and my lips were so chapped that the skin was flaking off. It ached, and suddenly I wished that I had lip balm in my pocket.

“Mr. Winter,” I said shakily. “What’s inside the case?”

Ryan grinned. He seemed pleased. I shrank back and leaned against the metal wall. My back was aching and my ass ached from the lack of padding on the floor, but at least it was better when the van wasn’t moving.

“I’m glad you asked, Katia,” Ryan said softly. He set the case down on the floor of the van and then unzipped it. “This is something that should be very familiar to you.”

Horrifying thoughts started galloping through my head and I was powerless to stop them. Is he going to hurt me? Is he going to shave me? Is there a vibrator in there? Pictures of me with Devin?

When Ryan opened the bag to show me a compact and makeup, I was almost surprised.

“You don’t look very pretty right now,” Ryan said. He sneered. “In fact, Katia, you look almost ugly.” The last word was spat with venom. “I don’t think you’d win any prizes!” Ryan threw his head back, laughing hysterically at his own joke.

Nervously, I giggled.

“So, let’s make you a little prettier,” Ryan said. “Come here, Katia.” He beckoned me with his two fingers. “Come closer.”

I stared. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but I didn’t like it.

“Come here,” Ryan said a bit more firmly. “And you know what to call me.” He raised his eyebrows. When I didn’t reply, Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black Taser. Before I could resist, he jabbed me in the chest, dangerously close to my nipple. The searing pain shooting through my body was worse than anything I’d endured, and I felt my body jerking painfully through the air as Ryan pressed the torture device closer and closer to my skin.

When he finally pulled the Taser away, there were two small scorch marks in my shirt. I was shaking and drooling and my limbs ached like I’d just run a marathon. I coughed feebly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hands.

“Come here,” Ryan said. He held up the Taser. “You don’t want me to use this again, do you?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said softly. “No, Mr. Winter.”

Ryan broke out into a wide grin. “Good Katia,” he said. “Now, you’re looking a little shaky to me. So, I’m going to help you with this makeup. Sit still,” he ordered, his voice still silky and warm.

I shuddered. Ryan held up a cheap tin of drugstore eye shadow. I watched as he rubbed the tiny sponge over a blue pan. When he was done, I waited for him to hand it over. Instead, he held it up to my face and gave me an expectant look.

“Katia, I know you’re a beauty queen, but even queens need mirrors,” Ryan said softly. “You’re going to have to let me put this on for you.”

I was about to protest when I remembered the hot, stinging pain of the Taser. Obediently, I closed my eyes. Ryan’s touch on my lids was feather-light. It tickled, which only made me feel sick. As he stroked the blue shadow across my whole lid, I held my breath.

“There, there,” Ryan said. “That’s much better.” He layered on more blue shadow, then wiped silver shadow up to my brows. When he held a mascara wand up in the air, I trembled.

“I’m not going to poke you in the eye,” Ryan said calmly. “At least, not unless you move. Keep your eyes open,” he ordered.

My eyes filled with tears once again, but I managed to keep my lids open just enough for him to coat my lashes with the cheap mascara. It stung and burned, and I felt a tear begin to drip from my eyes as Ryan applied coat after coat of mascara.

“You’re looking better already,” Ryan said. He capped the mascara and tossed it back in the cosmetic bag. The last item to come out of the bag was a tube of coral lipstick. Ryan applied it with little care, getting it all over the skin around my lips. I was sure I looked horrible, but I didn’t understand exactly why he was doing this.

“Well, you may not look like a beauty queen, but you’re something,” Ryan said. He leaned back on his haunches with satisfaction, surveying his handiwork.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked softly. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Where are we going?”

Ryan laughed. “Well, I think Mexico would be a good first stop,” he said. He raised his eyebrows as I felt my heart sink. “No one’s going to look for you there,” he said, effectively reading my thoughts. “And Katia, I wouldn’t think you’d have your passport on you, do you?”

I shook my head warily.

“Well, then I’ll just have to sneak you across the border,” he said. He rubbed his hands together in delight.

“Why are you taking me to Mexico?”

Ryan grinned. “So, I can do whatever I want with you, my little beauty queen,” he said. “And you haven’t been calling me Mr. Winter,” he added. “I think it’s time for a little punishment.”

“No,” I moaned loudly. “Please, Mr. Winter, don’t punish me! Please!”

I braced myself for another horrific shock from the little black Taser, but this one was worse than before. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I felt like I was trapped underwater, drowning and struggling for air. As I attempted to scream, I felt my body bounce and jolt in the air.

Ryan was laughing. “You were moving around like a little rag doll!” He chuckled again. “Damn, that’s funny. I don’t know why I didn’t get me a girl years ago!”

“Why me?” I asked through gasps. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Ryan leaned close. His breath was putrid enough to make me gag, and I shuddered as he rested his forehead against mine and deliberately blew a long stream of air in my face. Gagging and coughing, I fell to the side and covered my face with my hands.

“Because I can, bitch,” Ryan said. There was no trace of kindness or joy in his voice now. “Because that’s exactly what I can do, and I derive a strange sort of pleasure from hurting the woman who snubbed me. I was the most goddamned powerful man in Hollywood, Katia. I had everything I wanted. Pussy all the time, women licking and sucking my balls who were more beautiful than you’ll ever be. But you rejected me, so I wanted you even more.”

A hot tear dripped down my cheek, and I wiped it away. My fingers came back black, and I knew that mascara was smeared all over my face.

“Don’t cry,” Ryan barked. “You’ll ruin your makeup. And trust me, the second time won’t be as fun for me. It won’t be fun for you, either,” he added. “You ever think about what it would feel like to get shocked in the pussy?”

I howled with fear. Ryan only laughed. Finally, he climbed to his knees and crawled back into the front of the van. Seconds later, I felt the van moving away from the shoulder of the road and merging.

It was then that I began to feel truly hopeless. If Devin didn’t hurry, I was going to be lost and gone forever.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Devin

I heard Katia’s ear-piercing scream cutting through the air. Just then, the van began to move again. Her scream had paralyzed me momentarily. It was like I’d forgotten how to breathe. But as I saw the van taking off into the darkness, I knew that if anything, hearing her shrieks of pain had only strengthened my resolve.

Tightening the grip on my handlebars, I steered the bike onto the road behind the van. The roar of another bike behind me was enough to make me turn my head, and I grinned when I saw Tristan and Marlo coming up from the left. Tristan saluted me.

“That’s him,” I yelled, pointing ahead towards the white utility van as it swerved and careened over the roads. I didn’t know what Ryan had done to Katia, but I couldn’t get the sound of her screams out of her head. Every time I blinked, every time I closed my goddamned eyes, I heard her shrieks of pain.

Marlo and Tristan nodded.

“We’ll get that fucker!” Marlo yelled over the roar of the bikes. “We’ll fuckin’ get him—don’t worry, Dev!”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I gritted my teeth and kept staring straight ahead as the van careened around a sharp turn. I had no idea where we were going. We were headed south, towards the border of Mexico. I knew that Ryan couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to try to bring Katia into Mexico, but then again, I didn’t think he’d have been stupid enough to shoot Troy, either.

This guy was truly unhinged. I felt guilty for not taking Katia more seriously when she’d told me about what a creep he was. I’d just assumed he was some scorned white guy, embittered because a beauty queen had turned him down time. But this was insane. It was almost like he’d been waiting for the right moment to snap.

I wondered what that moment was. Katia’s assistant, Anya, had been getting creepy phone calls for weeks before Katia heard anything from Ryan. Had Ryan wanted Anya to convey the message sooner? Was he pissed that she hadn’t told Katia immediately? Why had Ryan waited until Katia had me around before trying anything truly gnarly?

The van showed no signs of slowing down or stopping again. I was starting to get frustrated. No, more than that – I was starting to get really, really angry. Fury was seeping into my veins and taking over my blood; it was pumping through my limbs and infusing my whole body with a sense of rage. I had a feeling that Ryan knew we were following him and that he was only doing this to make me sweat.

You’ll be the one sweating in prison, trying to get away from all of the other men, I thought with a humorless smile as I kicked my bike into a higher gear. You know what they do to kidnappers and rapists, don’t you? They’re gonna kick your ass and make sure you’re hollering for your mother by the end of shower-time.

The wind blew into my face, blowing back my lips and ruffling my eyelashes into my eyes. I squinted and leaned down closer to the handlebars, pressing on.

“Where’s he going?” Marlo yelled. He pulled his bike alongside mine. “If we don’t stop, we’re gonna be in Mexico soon!”

I nodded. I didn’t want to say anything that could make it more true. I was already more terrified of never seeing Katia again than anything in the world, and if Ryan took her to Mexico, I knew that was exactly what would happen. I didn’t even have a passport, so it wasn’t like I could chase her. And if he smuggled her over the border….

Chills ran down my spine. No, I wouldn’t think about that just yet. I wasn’t ready to think about that.

I sped up until I was driving alongside the van. I could still hear Katia’s screams in my head. They sent shivers of terror through my whole body, but at least she was alive. At least she was able to scream. I knew that she had to be terrified. I wondered how had it happened. Had he knocked on the door and grabbed her, taking her out to the van and then driving away? Or had she left the motel room, looking for me, and they’d stumbled upon each other like old friends?

No matter how it happened, I knew that it was my fault.

Ideally, Marlo, Tristan, and I would be able to get Katia free of Ryan’s clutches without resorting to extreme violence. That was an absolute rule that the Wicked Bones had always followed. But if Ryan didn’t stop soon, I’d grab Marlo’s gun and blow one of the tires out. I almost wanted to see the van crash, except for the very real possibility that Katia would be hurt. I’d seen the inside of those utility vans before – cold, impersonal metal. If she wasn’t restrained, she was probably already bruised to hell and back from sliding around in the van.

“Give me your gun!” I yelled to Marlo.

Marlo reached into his jacket and pulled out a small handgun. He veered his bike closer to mine until I could reach out and pluck the metal gun from his grasp. I nodded my thanks, then sped up.

Things were about to get ugly, but if it resulted in getting Katia away from Ryan, then that was for the best.

“I can’t wait much longer!” I yelled to Marlo. “My bike’s almost outta gas! This guy has to stop soon!”

Marlo nodded. I wondered again why Ryan hadn’t filled the van up at the last service station. My stomach clenched into a fearful knot when I realized that it was probably because he’d been too busy with Katia in the back. But she’s alive, I reminded myself as my bike zoomed around a sharp curve in the road. She’s alive, and she’s still screaming. That’s what counts. Everything’s going to be okay; she’s going to live right through this and maybe even laugh about it someday. She’s going to come out of this smelling like a rose.

Finally, the van braked. The red tail lights were an alien sight, and I gasped as they flashed brightly before my eyes. As quickly as I could, I slowed my bike and tried to stay out of side of the side view mirror.

I could hear the van’s engine rattling as Ryan guided the van over to a shoulder of the road again. There was another service station only a few hundred feet again. A rush of victorious energy spilled into my body. Yes! He’s going to get gas! He’s going to leave the van, and then I can go get Katia!

Ryan slowed the van to a stop. I slowed my bike and touched my boots to the ground about twenty feet back. It was still dark, but the sky was beginning to show streaks of pink and orange. I knew that soon dawn would break and my cover would be blown.

I knew this was my last chance to save Katia on my own, or risk losing her forever.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Katia

When I felt the van slow to a stop, I started screaming with all the air left in my lungs. My chest ached as little black and red spots danced in front of my eyes, but I kept screaming even after my throat was raw.

“Shut up!” Ryan howled. He climbed out of the driver’s seat and held up the Taser in one hand. “Shut the fuck up! Do you want someone to fucking hear you!”

“Yes!” I sobbed. “Yes, I want someone to hear me. Help me!” I shrieked as loudly as I could. “Help! Please! Someone!”

Ryan backhanded me across the face. I tasted blood. Spitting on the floor of the van, I stared at him defiantly.

“You think you’re doing something good,” I said calmly. “But you’re ruining my life, and yours too if you keep doing this, Mr. Winter.” I shuddered. I hated calling him that.

Ryan grinned broadly. He jabbed the Taser into my thigh and laughed, shrieking hysterically as he watched me jerk and twist on the floor of the utility van.

“I don’t give a shit what you think is right and wrong,” Ryan snarled. “You’re a pretentious little cunt, and I want to teach you a lesson.”

My heart thudded in my chest as he advanced on me. Was this it? Was Ryan finally going to do the thing I’d always been afraid of?

Rape, a nasty little voice from the back of my head piped up. He’s going to rape you, Katia. He knows that you know it, and he’s going to enjoy it. He might even do it more than once. He might even rape you up the ass. And you’re going to have to take it because he has a gun and a Taser. By the time it’s over, you’ll probably be bleeding from the head and lying naked in a ditch somewhere.

A cold wave of fear washed over me. For a moment, I was afraid I was going to be sick. The wound on my head had begun to bleed again after I’d smacked my head into the wall of the van during a dangerous curve, and I’d swallowed so much blood from a cut in my mouth that I felt nauseous.

“Please,” I begged softly. “Please let me go, Ryan.”

Ryan sneered. “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve already got you, and I haven’t even gotten what I wanted.”

I licked my dry lips, tasting blood. “Yes, you have,” I said softly. “Mr. Winter, you said you wanted to teach me a lesson about rejecting you. And you have. I know better now.” I lowered my eyes, trying to act as demure as I possibly could. “Ryan, I wouldn’t ever reject anyone like you again.”

Ryan shook his head. “That’s not good enough,” he said. “I’m not through.” He raised his hand into the air and I cowered, waiting for the blow.

When a few seconds had passed, and he hadn’t struck me, I cautiously glanced up.

“Maybe you are learning something,” Ryan said. He crossed his stocky arms over his barrel chest. “And that makeup makes you look like a whore,” he added. “But we all knew you were a little slut, Katia.”

My cheeks burned, but I forced myself to look down at the floor of the van. I knew that I had to submit myself before Ryan and make him think that I was nothing but a demure little girl.

“Ryan, please,” I whimpered softly. “Please let me go.”

“Ah-ah,” Ryan said in a nasty tone. He reached down. The shock that penetrated my body was the strongest yet, and my limbs twitched and spasmed as I hit the floor of the van. Crying out in pain as the bump on my head hit the floor, I started sobbing and curled up in a little ball.

“Please Mr. Winter,” I begged. Mascaraed tears were dripping down from my cheeks, and I sniffled, feeling snot leaking from my nose. “Please, if you let me go, you won’t get in trouble,” I said softly. “If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone about this.”

Ryan’s lips curled into a nasty smile. “Unfortunately, someone already knows,” he said smoothly. “Besides, I didn’t spend weeks planning only to see this fall apart.” He smirked. “Katia, I spent weeks planning so you could be mine. I spent weeks planning, so I could take you and keep you. You know what they say: if she’s worth catching, she’s worth keeping!”

I couldn’t even force myself to meet Ryan’s eyes. Even though he’d barely touched me with his hands, every inch of my body felt violated. I felt like Ryan had somehow managed to turn me inside out, to expose my guts and my thoughts and my nerves.

I’d always thought I was stronger than this.

As Ryan climbed back towards the front seat of the van, I sighed. I knew I should be relieved that he’d left me alone for now. And besides, I had to start thinking of a plan. If he made good on his threat to bring me across the Mexican border, I was really going to have to make a fuss. I wondered if the border officials would search the car. I wondered if I’d be able to scream, to let a cop know that I was there, hidden in the back of the utility van like a sack of cargo.

Ryan was coming towards me again, with something shiny and made of rubber in his hands. He held it up and grinned.

“You ever worn a ball-gag before, baby?”

Panic seized me. I’m not sure what it was about the sight of the gag that set me off, but something inside of me snapped, and I started screaming and thrashing and kicking around as soon as I saw the device clutched in Ryan’s hand.

“Come here,” Ryan said in a menacing voice. “Come the fuck over here!”

“No!” I screamed. Ryan came straight at me. He dived towards me, pinning me to the floor of the van. As I felt his hands wrap around my wrists and pin them over my head, I shrieked and twisted under his soft, lumpy body. The foul scent of tuna and sweat washed over me, and I gagged as Ryan pushed me down to the floor with all of his weight.

Ryan clipped me on the jaw, and my head snapped back on my neck, bouncing painfully on the floor of the van. I cried out in pain as blackness momentarily overtook my vision. As Ryan pinned my arms down with his body, I tried to buck my hips and throw him off. But he was stronger, and he shoved the gag in my mouth and buckled it around the back of my head. It was so tight that I could barely breathe and I moaned softly as the foul-tasting ball of rubber wedged over my tongue and under my top row of teeth.

“That should keep you quiet for a while,” Ryan said. He was sweating and his chest was heaving with the effort of knocking me to the floor and pinning me down. I wanted to knee him between the legs, but he rolled off of me and got to his knees.

Just then, he grinned. The same fire inside of me that had sparked when Ryan had first come at me with the gag returned. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d rolled to my knees and raged towards Ryan with my nails extended. I hadn’t had a fill in weeks, but the acrylic was still strong. As I scratched Ryan’s face, aiming for his eyes, he let out a cry of anguish. I savored the sensation of the skin under his eyes ripping. Thin lines of blood appeared on his cheeks, and he screamed in pain as I raked my nails down his face.

“You fucking bitch!” Ryan screamed. “You’re a fucking bitch, do you know that?” He lurched towards me, falling on his hands and knees. For a moment, I thought he was going to shock me again. Instead, Ryan lifted his hands to his face and held his mauled skin. I hadn’t managed to scratch his eye out, but he was bleeding profusely. I could tell the cuts were shallow, but Ryan seemed truly enraged by what I’d done.

“You’re a fucking cunt!” Ryan screamed. “That’s fucking it!”

I cowered on the floor of the van and wrapped my hands over my face, trying to keep myself protected. The ball-gag was making me drool everywhere and a tooth towards the back of my mouth throbbed; I wondered if Ryan had broken it when he’d hit me before. Ryan made his way back to the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The van roared to life, and I shrieked as my body rolled across the floor, slamming into the side of the van’s wall.

I could tell that Ryan was now driving faster than ever before.

Please, Devin, I begged silently. Please hurry.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Devin

By the way Ryan was driving the van again, something bad had happened in the back. I’d winced, listening to Katia’s screams. It sounded like they’d had a fight, and the sides of the van had actually rocked back and forth on the pavement. For a moment, it had come dangerously close to tipping over. But now Ryan was gunning the van off towards the south, faster than ever before, and I was struggling to keep up.

The sun was peeking through a hazy layer of early morning clouds, and I knew that I had to act fast or else Ryan would know he had three very angry bikers chasing after him. Gritting my teeth, I gripped my handlebars and forced my bike forwards on the road. I knew he couldn’t see me, but it was damn frustrating trying to outrun someone who didn’t even know that he had a captive audience.

I leaned forward, lowering my head and trying to break the wind resistance. As I pulled alongside Ryan’s van, I managed to speed up until I was alongside the driver’s side.

“Hey!” I screamed. “Pull the fuck over!”

The time had come and gone for intervention without violence. I’d been tailing Ryan’s van for hours now, and unless I did something drastic, that asshole was going to drive off with Katia. She’d be lost to me forever.

I knew what I had to do.

Speeding up as fast as my bike could go, I drove alongside the van and finally pulled in front. Ryan honked. I wasn’t sure whether or not he recognized me, but I knew that I had to try. Gritting my teeth, I swung my bike out in front of the van and braked to a stop.

If Ryan stopped, Marlo and Tristan could grab Katia from the back of the van.

If Ryan didn’t stop, well, it had been a real nice time on Earth that I’d had. I’d even gotten to sleep with a beauty queen, and I don’t think that’s something most people can say.

The brakes on the utility van squealed as Ryan slowed to a stop. I saw his beady eyes through the tinted windshield and his fat frame driving the van. He scowled at me from behind the wheel.

I know you hate me, I thought as I stared right at him. But trust me, you asshole. You don’t hate me nearly as much as I hate you.

Finally, the van skidded to a complete stop. I could hear Katia’s muffled screams coming from the back of the van, and Ryan’s loud curses through the thick glass of the windshield.

It was over. I’d done it. I’d saved Katia.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Katia

When the van stopped again so soon after taking off, I knew something was wrong. For one, Ryan had killed the radio, and the only sound I could hear besides my own heartbeat was the sound of his furious, angry cursing. He skidded to a stop, making the tires screech, and soon, my nose was filled with the odor of burning rubber. I gagged, feeling my nausea return. The slimy ball-gag was sliding around in my mouth, and I groaned, reaching behind me and trying to fumble with the buckle. Now that the van was stopped, I was finally able to get a grasp of one of the fake leather straps. I yanked hard and the gag shot out of my mouth, bouncing over the floor of the back of the van.

I screamed when the doors to the back of the van burst open. There were two men standing in front of me that I’d never seen before. One of them was tall and bald, the other was short with brown hair and a scruffy chin who looked almost like a younger version of Devin.

“Help,” I whispered.

That’s when I saw him. Devin. Walking towards me, slowly. He was wearing a t-shirt I’d never seen and had big dark circles under both of his eyes. As I watched him approach, I felt my body begin to shake. I was still sitting in the back of the van. But the closer he got, the more I realized that I wanted to be in his arms, safe and happy.

I sprinted out of the van. My legs were weak and shaky, but I made myself run on the pavement until I reached Devin. I couldn’t even look at him as I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself close to his body.

“You’re safe now,” Devin whispered. To the guys, he said: “Keep her safe.”

Devin pulled away from me. I watched in horror as he pulled a gun out of his pocket and aimed it towards the front of the van.

“Devin, please, don’t shoot him,” I begged. “Please let the cops get him. Please make sure he goes to jail!”

Devin smirked. “I ain’t gonna shoot him,” he said. “I just gotta make sure he does what I want him to.”

I watched silently as Devin walked along the pavement to the front of the van. There was still no sign of Ryan. I was almost surprised that he hadn’t leapt out of the van and tried to make a run for it.

Devin rapped the driver’s side door with the gun in his hand. The two guys holding me back were watching with just as much rapt interest as I was.

Ryan didn’t open the door. Devin growled, then wrapped his hand around the metal door handle and yanked it open. Ryan tumbled out to the pavement with a grunt. The way Ryan looked next to Devin made me almost embarrassed of the way I’d begged and pleaded for my life. He looked so worthless like the loser he really was.

“You,” Devin snarled. He grabbed his gun and jammed the barrel against Ryan’s neck. “Get the fuck up. Walk. Come on, porky,” he added when Ryan failed to move. Devin kicked Ryan, and I felt such satisfaction at his groan of pain. I was clenching my hands into fists so tightly that I could feel tiny cuts on my palms from my manicured nails.

Devin grabbed Ryan by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to his feet. Standing next to Devin, Ryan looked so short and harmless that I almost laughed. His face was ashen white against the bloody claw marks that marred his face, and he looked like he was going to be sick. I could see him trembling from where I stood, twenty feet away.

“My gun,” Devin growled. “Give me my fucking gun.”

Ryan whimpered and sniveled. “I don’t have it,” he said. “I mean, I don’t have your gun!”

“Bullshit!” Devin roared. He grabbed Ryan by the scruff of the neck. “If you keep lying to me, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Ryan made a sound that sounded halfway between a grunt and a sob. He reached down into his pockets and grabbed two small guns, tossing them to the ground. Glaring up at Devin, he narrowed his tiny piggy eyes into slits.

“You fuck,” he said. “You fucking ruined everything. You ruined my plan,” Ryan moaned. He covered his face with his hands when he saw me. “I had everything worked out!”

“I bet,” Devin said dryly. “Marlo, Tristan! Over here!”

The two bikers standing next to me gently released my arms from their grip and walked towards Devin and Ryan. Marlo and Tristan each grabbed one of Ryan’s arms and tugged him towards me.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Devin snarled. “Because I think you owe Ms. Reynolds an apology.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said firmly. I turned around from the men and rubbed my face in my hands until my fingers were covered in the cheap makeup Ryan had forced me to wear.

“I’m so-sorry!” Ryan stammered. There was a loud smack and I couldn’t help but grin. I guessed one of the men had slapped him.

“Shut up, you pig,” Marlo said. “The lady said she didn’t want to hear it. You gonna try anything else on our watch?”

I turned back around. Seeing Devin so close was torture; I wanted to bury myself in his chest, to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him so close that he’d never be more than a few feet away. I needed to talk to him before I did that. So many questions needed answering. Why did he leave me? Where did he go? How did he find me?

Just as I started walking towards the men, I heard the sirens behind me.

“No!” Ryan wailed. “No, not the cops!”

“Yeah,” Devin said. He raised his eyebrows and grinned at me. “And I have a feeling they’re going to take Katia’s word over yours, don’t you think?”

I swallowed nervously. Even though my torture and imprisonment was over, I still felt shaky and nervous. My hands were shaking so badly that I twisted my fingers together and twined them behind my back, so no one, especially Devin, would see.

“I think they will,” I said with confidence that I didn’t truly feel, stepping closer to where Ryan was behind held by Marlo and Tristan. “After all, I’m a beauty queen. And you’re nothing but a judge.”

After that, everything happened quickly. There were at least six cop cars that pulled onto the road, one ambulance, and even a fire truck. I laughed uncontrollably when I saw the whole entourage spill out. Ryan started crying and sank down to his knees, snuffling into the sleeve of his shirt. I couldn’t find an ounce of pity for him anywhere in my heart; I felt pleasure at seeing him cry. I know that’s probably a bitchy thing to say, but you can’t tell me I didn’t deserve to feel like that.

One of the cops approached me nervously. “Katia Reynolds?”

I nodded.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

I licked my lips. “I can try,” I said softly.

The cop nodded. He had soft brown hair and kind blue eyes. I could tell that he was young and that he actually gave a damn about his job. The badge on his chest read ‘Officer Stevens.’ While the other cops pulled Ryan into the back of a cruiser with his hands bound behind his back, I led the bikers over.

“They saved me,” I said simply, pointing to Devin.

The cop narrowed his eyes. I could tell he didn’t like the idea of bikers doing anything good in the community.

“Is that true?” Officer Stevens turned towards Devin and the other guys. “Is what she said what really happened?”

Devin nodded soberly. “Yep,” he said. “Ask her anything, and she’ll tell the truth.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. In that moment, he looked so kissable that I wanted to run to him and cover his face and neck in kisses. Somehow, I managed to restrain myself as best I could.

“Well,” Officer Stevens said. He turned back to me. “And why did this guy kidnap you? Did you know him?”

I nodded solemnly. “He harassed me before at a pageant a long time ago, and he kidnapped me because I rejected him.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed. He stared at my face for so long than I began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

“Wait,” he said. “You’re the Katia Reynolds?”

I nodded. “Yes,” I said softly. “Just like I told you.”

“My daughter…” The cop trailed off, looking slightly flushed. “My daughter loves you,” he added. “Do you think you’d be able to give me an autograph to take home for her?”

“Well” I paused to glance over my shoulder at Devin at the other guys. They were all watching me with stony expressions on their faces. I

“Please, Miss? She’s a huge fan,” Officer Stevens said. “It would mean the world to her.”

I grinned. “Yes,” I said. “As long as you give these guys a break for me. The whole reason Devin was guarding me was because he said the cops were coming down too hard on his completely legitimate MC.” I trembled as I spoke. A wave of exhaustion came over me and suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to lie down in my soft bed and sleep for days.

Officer Stevens sniffed. “Well,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re a good man,” I said softly. I reached out and touched the cop’s arm, squeezing his muscle under the thick material of his uniform. “I know you believe me. Just trust me, okay?” I batted my eyelashes, well aware that again I was using my charms to get what I wanted.

Officer Stevens nodded with a slight smile, clearly trying to remain professional. “Okay, you’ve got my word.”

“They’re good men,” I repeated. “Thanks so much, Officer. Who should I make the autograph out to?”

Officer Stevens blushed. “Tony,” he said.

I grinned. As I signed “To Tony, with love from Katia” on a piece of police blotter paper, I had a feeling the autograph wouldn’t be going to his daughter after all.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Devin

After the whole damn thing was over, I went home and slept for what felt like a week. Turns out it was only forty-eight hours, but damn. That’s still the longest consecutive sleep I’ve ever had in my life.

Katia did us a solid, getting us off with the cops. I knew that after that, it was my responsibility to clean up the club and make sure the cops never had a reason to fuck with us again. After all, LA’s a big city. There were lots of ways to make legitimate money, right?

When I called the guys to order, it was Troy’s first day out of the hospital. He was still bandaged up, but he was paler and shakier than he had been before the whole thing went down. I welcomed him back to the club with a night full of strippers and booze. The strange thing was he didn’t even seem interested.

“Man, you okay?” I sauntered over to Troy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You’re barely drinking. They still got you on meds?”

Troy shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Just got somethin’ on my mind, that’s all.”

The other guys showed up and we partied and drank for a few hours. When I was just starting to feel the slightest buzz, I clapped my hands and called for a meeting. The guys all followed me into the meeting room of our clubhouse, and I shut the door.

“So,” I said, my voice echoing off the wood-paneled walls. “I gotta talk to y’all. Big changes in store,” I added. “And I can thank Marlo, Tristan, and Troy for helping me out of the biggest jam I’ve ever been in.”

There was raucous cheering and applause. For a moment, I smiled. It was good to be back. But there was something on my mind, something even more pressing than the needs of the club. And her name was Katia Reynolds.

“So,” I said again. “We’re gonna have to have a talk and a vote about the way we keep running things,” I said. “You guys on board with that?”

Troy, Tristan, Marlo, and the rest of the guys nodded. After I thanked them all for helping me out with a toast, we settled down into the leather chairs.

“This is serious. Katia talked to the cops. I don’t know what she did, but she worked her magic and now they’re gonna leave us alone,” I said firmly. “So, we gotta make sure we stay on the right side of the law. Y’all think we can do that?”

Tristan snorted. “Boss, come on, we gotta stay legal now?”

I nodded firmly. “I came too close to losing this club, and I’m not going to let that happen again,” I said. “And it’s your job to help out with this transition. We gotta make sure that we all have legitimate, and I mean legitimate, sources of income. I’m talking body-guarding and maybe a little security work.”

The guys nodded. “It’s a relief,” Troy called. He grinned. “I don’t fuckin’ think I can take being shot again.”

The guys all laughed for a moment until I pounded on the table and called to order.

“I don’t give a shit what it is, but you all need to figure out what you’re good at and how to make money,” I said sharply. “Find a store that needs a guard, or find a way to pass a piss test and start working as a private investigator. You think you can do that?”

Once the guys realized how dead serious I was, they agreed to change their ways in a heartbeat. In a certain sense, it was almost sad. It was like the end of an era. No more guns, no more drugs for Wicked Bones. But I knew that now we had a better chance of being able to keep our club, and furthermore, keep all of our guys out of prison.

When the meeting was over, I banged the gavel on the table and went to talk to Troy. He was still perched in a corner, watching the rest of the guys take shots and chat up the strippers. He looked forlorn and morose.

“What’s wrong, man?” Slapping a beer in Troy’s hand, I stared into his face.

“I dunno,” Troy said.

I rolled my eyes. “Always so fuckin’ verbose,” I muttered. “You okay? You havin’ nightmares or any of that PTSD shit?”

Troy snorted. “Fuck no,” he said. He took a long swallow of beer and banged the bottle down on the table. “How’re you, man? Lookin’ a little weak.”

I sighed. “I can’t get Katia out of my mind,” I muttered. “It’s been days, and I can’t stop thinking about her. I bet she fuckin’ hates me for leaving her and for not being able to save her faster. Wouldn’t you?”

Troy shook his head. “No,” he said. “And besides, she did a good thing. She took up for us with the cops, didn’t she? Why the hell do you think she hates your guts?”

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, taking a long drink of my own beer. The malty, yeasty liquid was well on its way to filling up my stomach and numbing some of the hurt and loneliness that I’d felt ever since I’d watched Katia climb into the back of a police cruiser for a ride to the hospital.

“Don’t be embarrassed, man,” Troy said. “You love her,” he added simply. “Why not just tell her?”

I squinted. “Wow, you really think I’m a fuckin’ pussy, huh?”

Troy burst out laughing. “No,” he said. “But come on, Dev. We’re getting old. We ain’t gonna be young forever. Don’t you ever think about settling down?”

I rolled my eyes. “No,” I said. “That was never my job. That was always my brother’s plan and my family’s expectations.”

“And Katia Reynolds’s not good enough? What are you waiting for? Someone better?” Troy snorted into his beer. He finished the bottle and tossed it across the room where it landed gracefully in the recycling bin. “Stop waiting,” Troy said. “You’re happy with her; I can tell. I watched y’all at dinner, and I saw it.”

I nodded. “I do love her,” I said. “Shit, did I just say that out loud?”

Troy laughed. “And she’d be happy to be with you, as long as we don’t do anything illegal,” he said. “Tell me, come on. That’s the real reason you’re so dead-set on not going back to drugs or guns, ain’t it?”

I hated to admit it, but he was exactly right. I nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “That’s it. I don’t want her to be ashamed of me. I want her to be proud. I know I’m not some Hollywood fop, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s the most perfect woman I’ve ever met. Even when she’s being a total asshole, I love her.”

Troy rolled his eyes. “You know what you have to do,” he said. “Call her. Ask her out to dinner.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure she paid you fuckin’ well. Use some of that money to take her someplace nice. Chicks like that,” he added confidentially like I didn’t know shit about women.

“I’ll think about it,” I said moodily.

But deep down, I knew the damage was done. I was in love with Katia Reynolds, and if I didn’t tell her, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Katia

I waited days for Devin to call.

“He doesn’t care about me,” I pouted to Anya. We were lounging in my living room, going over my plans for the next month. “If he cares about me, he would’ve called me.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “That’s not true,” she said. “How did things end? I mean, you didn’t really get to talk to him much when they got Ryan, did you?”

I shook my head, letting my perfectly-waved blonde hair fall in front of my face. “I couldn’t talk to him,” I confessed. “I was covered in bruises and cuts. And besides, those cops dragged me off before I had a chance to say anything.” I swallowed hard. Deep down, I was glad the cops had done something before I’d had a chance to embarrass myself further. I didn’t want to tell Devin how I felt, if only because I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me. Sure, we’d have great sex. But then he’d left me, and now he was avoiding me.

“I think he just wanted to get away from me, you know, a clean break,” I said carefully, reaching down for my cup of diet seltzer. “That’s how men are. They’re so noncommittal.”

“Call him,” she said with a sweet smile. “I know how you build things up in your mind, Katia. You always have to have the perfect man who’s a perfect gentleman. But Devin isn’t that kind of guy. And if you don’t tell him how you feel, you’re going to lose him forever.”

I licked my lips. Along with the rest of my body, they were finally starting to heal from Ryan’s assault. At the advice of the doctor in the emergency room, I’d started going to a counselor to deal with the “lingering trauma,” but aside from a few nightmares, I hadn’t really had anything too horrible to deal with. The bruises faded in a couple of days, the knot on my head drained down, and the cuts and scratches healed over in a remarkably short amount of time.

Oliver, my pug, darted towards me and barked. I grinned. “Hi, baby,” I crooned. “You wanna cuddle with Mommy?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you go,” she said, getting to her feet and wiping her hands on her round thighs. “I know you probably want some alone time with your baby.”

I felt a tug of anxiety on my heartstrings as I watched Anya gather her things.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Thank you. For– for everything.”

Anya smiled, looking pretty and ten years younger. She smiled back. “I love you, Katia,” she said. “Even if you’re a royal pain in the ass sometimes.”

I grinned, feeling much more like my old self. Just as I was about to get up to hug my best friend, my phone started buzzing on the table. When I saw that Devin was calling, my heart leapt into my throat.

“You’d better answer that,” Anya said slyly. “I know how you’ve been dying to talk to him and all.”

I giggled. “Go!” I yelled playfully. “Give me some privacy!”

# # #

Six hours later, I stood nervously in front of my full-length bedroom mirror, staring at the way the black cocktail dress hugged my body. It was something I’d bought a few months ago but had yet to wear, and I was still self-conscious of the way it pushed my breasts into a high cleavage.

Still, it was probably the best thing I had for a date with Devin at Marcus & Fine, one of LA’s newest and most expensive steakhouses.

Sliding into the backseat of a cab, I pulled a mirror out of my purse and glanced at my reflection. With my hair teased and slightly over my forehead, the last of my bruises was all but invisible. Inside, though, I was feeling more nervous than I’d ever felt in my life. More nervous than when I auditioned for my first pageant, and much more nervous than I’d felt when I’d gone in to my oncologist’s office to hear whether or not the leukemia had finally left my body.

Devin was sitting at a table in the back, looking incredibly handsome in a dark jacket with a dark t-shirt underneath. I instinctively grinned when I saw him.

Devin raised his eyebrows. “The lady arrives,” he said smoothly. He leapt to his feet, pulling my chair out in front of me. “Would she like to sit?”

“She would, indeed,” I said softly as I sat down on the smooth velvet chair. The restaurant was dim and intimate with roses and candles on each table. Even though the tables around me were filled with chattering couples, I still felt like Devin and I were alone together.

“So,” I said softly. “How are you?”

Devin snorted. “Well, things are getting back to normal,” he said. “I fuckin’ miss your condo, though. That was a sweet place to crash for a while. My apartment doesn’t really feel the same.”

I smiled and blushed at the same time. As the waiter appeared to take our drink order, I grabbed the wine list from Devin before he could say anything.

“Ma’am?” The waiter glanced down at me with disdain. “Did you have a question?”

“No questions,” I said sweetly as I pushed the wine list towards him. “But we’ll take the second most expensive bottle of wine on the list.”

Devin snorted and the waiter threw him a quick glare before turning his attention back to me. “But, madam,” he said calmly. “You don’t even know which kind of wine that would be.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care,” I said sweetly. “I just know that it’s gonna be good.”

When the waiter had left us alone, Devin stretched. He raked a hand through his dark hair; I noticed that it wasn’t nearly as unruly as usual. I blushed at the thought of Devin taking more time than usual to get ready for me. Something about that idea turned me on more than I was willing to admit.

“So,” I said, scooting my chair closer to the table. The wine came, and I poured us each a generous glass, taking a sip of mine. The wine was a pinot noir, and it was delicious. I savored the way the rich, alcoholic flavor poured down my throat. It was almost enough to calm me, which is something I hadn’t felt since before The Incident had taken place.

“So?” Devin raised his eyebrows and eyed me. “What were you about to say?”

“I was just going to ask you how things were going,” I said softly. “But now I think that we need to make a toast. We have our drinks now,” I added meaningfully.

“Okay.” Devin and I clinked glasses. His dark blue eyes stared into my own, and I felt a small shiver of arousal crawling down my spine.

“So, what do we toast to?”

Devin grinned. “You always gotta put me on the spot with these hard questions,” he said softly. “But I think we should toast to you, Katia, for taking charge and clearing our name with the cops. And for being fabulous, no matter what.”

My cheeks burned bright red. For a moment, I couldn’t even meet Devin’s eyes. Then I clinked my glass against his and drank.

“You were cool, too,” I said softly. “You– you saved me, Devin.”

Devin shook his head. “I didn’t do a good job,” he said. “I really fucked up. It’s good you’re so strong, Katia. I know most women wouldn’t have been able to go through that and come out on top. But you…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking champ.”

. “I know and modest, too,” I said laughing and cocking my head to the side.

“You’re incredible,” Devin said in all seriousness. He stared into my eyes. When I could no longer meet his gaze, I had to look away.

I sighed. “I– I don’t know, Devin. I just –I can’t believe you left me. I woke up, and you were gone. Why did you leave me?” I demanded.

He ran his fingers through his hair, which ruffled the parts he’d tried hard to tame, and he let out a sigh. “I was trying to be the hero. I thought that I could take care of Ryan in one night, and in the morning, all your problems would be gone. I knew that you would try to stop me if I told you that I was going.”

“I probably would have,” I said with a bit of shame. I rolled my eyes and took another long drink of wine. “I’m sorry for being angry,” I added. “I just think I lost my confidence, or whatever it was that I had beforehand. Everything’s changed.”

Devin snorted. He drained his wine glass and poured himself a refill, smirking at me the whole time. “Well, I talked to the rest of Wicked Bones,” he said. “And the other guys are with me, and they want to make sure that we stay as legitimate as possible. And Katia, that’s all thanks to you. If you hadn’t put in a good word for us, fuck, I don’t know. The cops would probably still be out there chasing me.”

I giggled. “I can’t believe they listened,” I said. “If I had a dollar for every guy who thought I was some actress instead of myself.” I rolled my eyes.

“Well, I’m glad they listened,” Devin said seriously. “I’m actually going into body-work full time now, and the rest of the guys are going to do security or guarding or work as mechanics. Guns and drugs are off the table,” he added. “And thank you, Katia. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the incentive to really tell them how things had to change.”

I nodded. “So you’re going to be working as a body guard again?”

Devin nodded. “Some girl, the daughter of the former mayor, she thinks she needs help. So I’m going to be moving into the apartment over her garage to keep an eye on things for a few days.”

I couldn’t help it, but I felt my eyebrows go up in the air. Suddenly, my mind was filled with horrible thoughts. What if Devin decided he liked this girl better than me? I knew exactly who he was talking about, too. She was young and very pretty. She’d already had dozens of boyfriends, and I knew that she’d like a guy as hot as Devin to watch over her. Probably a little too much, I thought as my eyes narrowed in jealousy.

“What?” Devin frowned. He took a sip of wine. “Aren’t you happy that I’m not a criminal anymore? Shit, Katia, part of the reason why I’m doing this is for you.”

I stared at him. “I don’t even know what that means,” I said. I set my wine down. The alcohol was starting to make me feel a little hot and fluttery inside.

“It means that I want to impress you,” Devin said patiently. I licked my lips, not believing his words until he stretched his hand across the table and laced his fingers with mine. When he squeezed my hand, I finally looked into his blue eyes.

“You mean that? You won’t get all crazy over this new girl?”

Devin snorted. “She’s a child,” he said. “I like you, better.”

I love you, I almost said. The words were on the tip of my tongue. I swished them around in my mouth, staring at Devin and wondering if he felt the same way. After all, there wasn’t much he was getting from me anymore. I wasn’t paying him, and he’d even said that he was trying to impress me. So, what was I waiting for?

“So, again,” Devin said wearily. He grabbed my glass and refilled it to the brim. “Thank you, Katia. For saving my reputation and the reputation of my club. I really owe you.”

“It’s not a problem,” I said softly. “I love you.”

Devin stared. As the blood drained from his handsome face, I felt my heartbeat race in my chest.

“I love you, too,” Devin said. He squeezed my hand. “Is there anything I could do to thank you?” His voice was husky and deep. Just listening to him sent frantic, delicious shivers down my spine.

“Well,” I said softly. “There’s one thing.”

# # #

Twenty minutes later, we were in the back of a cab, kissing passionately. Devin wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me close, trailing hot kisses down my neck and breastbone until I was moaning with pleasure. As he slipped his fingers over the bodice of my black cocktail dress, I wriggled under his touch, desperate for his fingers to touch my bare skin.

“Hey,” the cabbie snapped from the front seat. “What the fuck is going on back there?”

Devin and I burst out laughing. I sat up, straightening my dress and smoothing my hair.

The ride back to my condo was torture. I kept staring at the handsome angles of Devin’s face in the low light of the streetlamps. As the cab rolled through the hills of LA, I thought about everything that had changed over the past couple of months. I’d gone from a silly, selfish, spoiled girl into a real woman. A woman who wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings; a woman who cherished and reveled in the idea of being in love.

But as soon as the cab pulled into my driveway, that love turned to lust. I grabbed Devin and kissed him passionately in the driveway, laced my fingers with his, and led him quickly up the drive. Inside the condo, we were kissing madly. Devin pushed me against the wall of the foyer, nudging my head back and nipping at the soft skin of my neck, as I moaned and ground my hips against his pelvis.

Devin reached down and wrapped his strong hands around my thighs, pulling my legs up and around his body. As we moved together in a slick, undulating rhythm, I let out a wild cry of pleasure.

Devin groaned. He bucked his hips, and I could feel his massive erection through his trousers. As he scooped me into his arms and carried me back into the bedroom, I closed my eyes and let my body relax fully. I wasn’t afraid, or anxious, or even worried that someone was watching us. Ryan was in jail, and my lawyer told me that there was a very good chance he’d go away for at least ten years.

“I love you,” Devin whispered. He nipped at my earlobe, and I cried out. The sensation of his hot breath and tongue on my skin was almost too much to bear. I twisted in his arms, tangling my hands in his dark hair and pulling his face close to mine. As we kissed, our tongues danced delicately inside of my mouth. The taste of wine and cigarettes in Devin’s mouth sent my level of arousal skyrocketing up to the starry sky, and I threw my head back and growled with lust.

“Come here,” I whispered. Scooting back on the bed, I spread my legs and slid a hand down my body. Devin’s eyes were glued to me as I threw my head back and arched my back, letting my fingers wander over my body. My dress clung to my skin as I slipped my hand between my legs, spreading them wide so Devin could see how aroused I was.

“God, Katia,” Devin panted. He crawled between my legs on his knees and rested his big, brawny hands on my thighs. “You’re so hot,” he growled. I shivered as I felt his breath on my bare legs. Devin lowered his face to my thighs and began licking the soft skin. It tickled, and I moaned again. As Devin pushed my hand out of the way, he slipped two fingers inside the sodden silk of my panties. I groaned and rubbed my crotch against his hand, desperate for more of the wicked pleasure he was granting me with every passing second. Devin slid a finger inside of me and gently wriggled it back and forth. He pushed the crotch of my panties to the side and lowered his head to my crotch. When I felt his hot breath on my soaked labia, I let out a wild cry of lust.

Devin’s tongue on my clit was heavenly. I bit my lip and purred as he swirled his tongue around my clit in slow, torturous circles. The feelings of pleasure swarming through my body were almost too much to bear, and I tugged at his scalp as I ground my hips against his face.

Devin pulled away from me just as I was about to come. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and yanked the top of my dress down. My breasts popped out, and he began caressing my stiff nipples with his fingers. As I reached out for him and pulled him close, Devin tumbled on top of me and pinned me to the bed. The pressure of his muscular body against mine was exquisite, and I held my breath as I slid my hands under his shirt and stroked his silky skin. Devin growled as I tugged his shirt off and tossed it to the side. I sucked in a breath, staring at him. He was so perfect. His muscles were gleaming and tensed. Tracing a finger over the tattoo on his pectorals, I used my other hand to beckon Devin closer. He crawled on top of me, shoving his hips against mine.

I wrapped my legs around Devin’s waist and ground my crotch against his body. The pressure on my clit felt incredible, and I closed my eyes as tiny sparks of fireworks exploded behind my eyes.

“God,” I groaned. “Please, please, Devin!”

Devin growled. He reached down and tugged my dress over my head, throwing it to the side. With one hand, he ripped my panties off of my body. Now that I was naked, I loved the feeling of his trousers between my legs. There was something both lewd and sensual about being naked when my partner was clothed, and I moaned as Devin trailed a hand down my body. He pinched my nipples, making me cry out in pleasure mingled with pain.

With trembling hands, I unfastened the snap of Devin’s trousers and began tugging them down his narrow hips. As always, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His cock sprang free. I grinned, then rose up on my haunches and pushed Devin over onto the bed. He returned my smile. As I got closer, I licked my lips and stared down at him. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, especially when he was naked.

“I missed you,” I said softly as I crawled between Devin’s legs and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. As I began to stroke Devin’s manhood with firm, slow movements, Devin groaned. His eyes rolled back in his head and he arched his back, shoving his cock further towards me.

“I can take a hint,” I teased. Leaning down, I slowly took the head of Devin’s cock into my mouth and began to suck. As I traced the tender underside of his manhood with my tongue, Devin jerked and jolted on the bed. He groaned as I took him all the way down my throat, moving my hand up to meet my mouth and ensuring that his whole cock was covered with my ministrations.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Devin growled. I didn’t listen. I wrapped my tongue around the head of Devin’s cock and swirled like I was sucking the world’s most delicious ice cream cone. I loved the taste of him and moaned softly as he groaned and shifted him into my mouth once again.

Finally, Devin reached down and placed a hand on my shoulder. As he pushed me away, I fell back on my hands and knees. Devin’s hands were instantly on my body, pushing me down on my stomach. I moaned as I felt his fingers trace down my spine and then between the cheeks of my ass and force my legs apart.

“God,” I moaned into the pillows. My whole body was buzzing and singing with arousal, and I wanted Devin to plunge deeply inside of me and stay there forever. This is perfect, I thought. Just me and Devin, forever. That’s all I need, and all I want. I’m completely satisfied.

“I’ve thought about your every day,” Devin growled. He crawled between my spread legs, steadying himself with a hand on my hip. I arched my back, spreading my ass and raising my pussy up for Devin. I was so wet that I was leaking juices onto the bed, and I groaned when Devin slid a finger into my soaked cunt and pulled it out again, making me quiver with want.

The head of Devin’s cock pushed against me, and I raised my hips again, shoving back, desperate to be taken. As Devin plunged inside of me, I cried out into the duvet. Devin grabbed a fistful of my ass in one hand and began pumping into me slowly. As his cock slid in and out of my soaked pussy, I let out a cry of delight. Devin’s other hand tangled in my hair and he pulled my head back, grinding and thrusting against my body as he pulled me towards him with each delicious stroke of his cock.

“God,” I moaned softly. “Devin!” I screamed his name into the duvet over and over. As Devin slid a finger between the soaked cheeks of my ass, I moaned softly and blushed when I felt his fingertip slide over my puckering asshole. It felt dirty, taboo. As he slid his finger around the sensitive skin of my ass, I groaned and shoved my hips against Devin’s pelvis. His cock was buried inside of me to the hilt and he squeezed my ass, groaning loudly with his own pleasure.

A sheen of sweat had broken out over our bodies and we moved slickly together, like a sensual machine. Just when I felt my orgasm building inside of me, Devin pulled out.

I gasped as Devin grabbed me by the hips and forcefully flipped me over onto my back. I groaned as he slapped my inner thighs, spreading my legs. When he slid inside of me, I threw my head back and closed my eyes. Devin impaled me deliciously, sliding in and out of my body and holding himself up with one hand on my hip. He lowered his face to my chest and began sucking and licking at my stiff nipples, driving me into a frenzy of delight.

“I’m gonna come,” I moaned softly, wriggling and rolling around on the bed underneath my lover. “I can’t wait, Devin!”

“Come, baby,” Devin grunted. Sweat dripped off his forehead and landed on my bare breasts as his thrusts grew more intense with each passing second. I stared into his blue eyes, feeling more naked and exposed than I’d ever felt in my life As Devin’s cock began to pulse and twitch inside of me, I felt my pussy clamp down again and again with delicious pleasure. As my orgasm tore through me, I let out a wild cry of unbridled lust.

Finally, the shockwaves of desire passed through me and faded away into a delightful lull. Devin slid out of me, flopping down on the bed beside me and wrapping an arm lazily around my waist.

“Hey, Katia,” Devin whispered in my ear. “I’ve got something to ask you.”

I frowned and pulled away. “What could you possibly want to talk about after that?” I whispered softly. “Aren’t you satisfied for now?”

Devin grinned. “Will you be my date to Anya and Troy’s wedding?”

I was so startled that I gasped. “What?”

“Anya and Troy’s wedding,” Devin repeated. “Will you be my date? Yes or no?”

I pouted. “Yes,” I said. “But I’m so mad that she didn’t tell me first!”

Devin grinned. “Don’t say anything,” he said, pulling me close and tucking my hips under the silk sheet. “But he’s gonna ask her tonight. I know she’s gonna say yes, so I thought I’d get a head start and ask you before any of these other Hollywood assholes get around to it.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my face. “Of course,” I whispered softly. “There’s no one I’d rather go with.”

Chapter Thirty

Katia

My designer gown was gripping me so tightly around the waist that I could barely breathe, but I couldn’t help but smile anyway.

“You look gorgeous!” Anya gushed. “My god, you’re going to steal the show yet again,” she added in a playful grumble. “You’re perfect, Katia.”

My eyes filled with tears. “Don’t even say that,” I told her sincerely. “This is your wedding day, and it’s all about you.”

Anya smiled. She looked beautiful. I’d used my connections to get her an appointment at the most exclusive bridal salon in LA, and she was wearing an ivory mermaid gown with a fishtail spray of tulle at the bottom. Her brown hair was done up beautifully in a vintage-style beehive and she carried a bouquet of peonies. Or rather, she would carry a bouquet of peonies as the ceremony wasn’t due to start for another ten minutes.

“Do you think I’m crazy, honestly?” Anya stared into my eyes, searching my face. “I mean, I know I just met the guy. But this is real. I can feel it!”

I laughed. “I think it’s your biological clock ticking,” I said sweetly. “But no, you’re not crazy. I love you and Troy together.”

“You’re not mad that I’m getting married before you?” Anya looked at me anxiously. “I know that was something that used to bother you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her. “I’m only twenty-seven! There’s loads of time,” I added. For Devin to come to his senses and propose, I finished in my head.

“I’m really proud of you,” Anya said. She pulled me into a tight hug. “You’ve really grown up a lot, Katia. It’s really impressive. I know you don’t believe me, but you’ve really started showing everyone your best colors, not just me.”

I blushed again. I’d heard that so frequently in the past few weeks that I was almost starting to get sick of being complimented. A first, I know.

“Well, I’m just glad you picked me to be your maid of honor,” I said. “And I love this dress. Thanks for not making me look like a hag,” I added. “I was a little worried about that.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said stiffly. “Like you could look like a hag in anything. Katia. I could have picked a paper sack, and it would have been flattering on you.”

I glanced down. The strapless pink dress was just flattering enough, and I liked that all eyes wouldn’t be on me for once.

“Are you ready?” I raised my eyebrows. “This is a big commitment, you know. You’re going to have to live with someone,” I added.

Anya nodded. “Katia…” She trailed off, her hands fidgeting in front of her body. “There’s one other thing. I’ve been dreading telling you this, but after I get married, Troy says that he doesn’t really want me working anymore.”

I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

Anya nodded. She blushed and licked her lips. “I mean,” she added, leaning in. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered in my ear. “And Troy doesn’t want me working with the baby on the way.” She pulled away and straightened up, brushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Not that I think you’re in any more danger, but you know, Troy was a little spooked.”

I nodded. I felt tears coming to my eyes, as much as I didn’t want to cry and ruin my professional makeup job.

“I understand,” I said gently. “And I think you’re making the best possible decision for your family.”

“Oh, Katia,” Anya gushed. “This is going to be the happiest day of my life!”

“Five minutes, ladies!” The wedding planner, Cheryl, gushed. She breezed past me in a spray of expensive floral perfume. “Anya, are you ready?”

Anya nodded. Her cheeks were red and her breath was coming in damp little pants. I could tell she was thrilled. I’d rarely seen her so happy, except maybe for the night when she met Troy for the first time.

Reaching down, I squeezed her hand. “You’ll be awesome,” I told her. “I know you can do this, babe.”

Anya smiled nervously. She picked up her bouquet and walked out of the room. At Cheryl’s request, I followed her and then positioned myself in the nave of the church.

“You go first,” Cheryl whispered. “And then Anya followed behind you, in about five seconds. Remember to walk slowly; you’re not on a runway,” she added.

I rolled my eyes. “I know,” I said. “I’ve been a bridesmaid before.”

Cheryl glared at me. As the music started, Anya gave me a little swat on the ass. Turning around, I blew her a kiss as I started to walk down the aisle.

The church was filled with Hollywood elite. I recognized lots of talent agents, models, and their plainer personal assistants. I couldn’t help but grin when I realized all eyes were on me. It had been a long time since I’d done pageants, but a part of me did miss the spotlight.

The music was a classy jazz arrangement of a classic piece, and I swayed down the aisle gracefully. Devin was at the altar, standing on Troy’s right-hand side. When he saw me, his eyes practically bulged out of his head. I smiled chastely at him as I continued my way down the aisle, swaying my hips gently from side to side.

As soon as I was in place, Anya began her walk down the aisle. Everyone turned to look at her, and there was more than one audible gasp amongst the crowd. I had to grin; she looked so beautiful and happy. Tears came to my eyes, and I gently dabbed them away with a tissue. It was so hard to believe that a little over a month ago, I’d been in the back of Ryan’s van, praying for God and Devin to come help me and save my life.

Anya reached the end of the aisle. The priest reached down and took her hand, placing it inside of Troy’s. When I saw the way Troy looked at his new bride, I realized that true love was possible in the world, and not just for people like me and Devin. My heart filled with joy as the priest began his monologue, and by the end of the wedding, I was sobbing along with most of the other people in the audience.

“May I escort you?” Devin raised his eyebrows and his elbow towards me, smirking all the while. “I believe you are the maid of honor, are you not?”

I stood as tall as I could in my four-inch heels, smiling placidly. “I am,” I said sweetly. “And you’re the best man?”

Devin nodded. I could tell he was fighting off giggles, and after a moment, so was I. I linked my arm with his and we began the slow stroll down the aisle together, trailing after Anya and her new husband. Troy was still limping slowly from the gunshot wound to his thigh, which the doctor had told him might never recover, but it was the happiest I’d ever seen him look.

Outside of the church, we all posed for pictures. Anya and Troy kissed and mugged for the cameras as I threw birdseed at them, cheering and clapping and waving my bouquet in the air.

“You’re a friend of the bride’s?” Devin grinned at me. I rolled my eyes, wondering how long we were going to keep playing this silly game.

“I am,” I said. I licked my lips. “And you’re a friend of the groom’s?”

Devin nodded. He reached for my hand and squeezed. Feigning shock, I pulled my hand away.

“That’s a bit fresh!” I gasped. “After all, we only just met!”

As Anya and Troy turned to stare, Devin and I burst out laughing. When he pulled me into a tight embrace and kissed me on the lips, I felt the tears return to my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks.

It was the happiest day of my life. As Anya and Troy danced their first dance, Devin and I watched from the bridal table.

“You know,” Devin said. “If I’d had a date, she’d be awful jealous of you.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, and you know it.”

I blushed. “That’s not true,” I said, pointing towards Anya. She was wrapped in Troy’s arms, slowly swaying to the beat of an instrumental take on a popular song. “She’s the bride; she’s the most beautiful. That’s how these things work, duh.”

Devin rolled his eyes. “You girls and your chivalry,” he teased. He pulled my chair closer, then planted a delicate kiss on the side of my face. “I can’t wait to dance with you,” he said. “I bet we’re gonna have everyone staring at us.”

“And just what makes you think I’m going to dance?” I pouted. “After all, we just met.”

For a moment, Devin and I stared into each other’s eyes. The moment was completely serious, and the sounds and the laughter of the wedding fell away as I searched his face. This is the man I love, I realized as Devin leaned closer. And this is the man I’m going to love for the rest of my life.

Devin squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know you, Katia. I know you can’t stay out of the spotlight for too long.”

Somehow, I had a feeling he was talking about more than just dancing.

When the time came for the best man’s toast, I watched lazily as Devin stood up and praised Troy. He said some truly heart-felt emotional things, and I found myself tearing up for the umpteenth time that day as Troy and Devin pulled each other into a tight bro-hug.

“I’ve known Anya for years,” I said into the microphone. Everyone clapped, and I smiled, waiting patiently for the applause to die down. “And she’s always been a wonderful friend to me, even when I didn’t deserve it.” As I talked about all of the good times and bad times that Anya and I had gone through, I started to cry. Devin handed me a tissue, and I actually had to blow my nose before the end of my speech.

When Anya came up to hug me, she was sobbing, too. Her mascara had pooled under her eyes and there were tear streaks down her face, but she’d never looked happier or more beautiful. I pulled her into a tight embrace.

“We always have to stay friends,” I whispered into her ear. “This isn’t the end of that, you know?”

Anya nodded. “Katia, I’m so thankful to have you,” she said softly. “Thank you for being my maid of honor.”

My heart swelled as a fresh wave of sobs washed over me. “I’d have been seriously offended if you’d asked anyone else,” I said.

“Come on,” Anya said. She tugged my hand. “Time for the bouquet toss.”

“Oh, no,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not fighting with a bunch of women to get your bouquet. I don’t do that.”

“Please?” Anya made puppy eyes. “For me?”

# # #

Ten minutes later, I was standing in a group of other girls, fighting and shoving my way towards the front of the line. As Anya stood in front of us with her back turned, she threw the bouquet over her head. I leapt into the air, pushing and shoving my way past Anya’s cousin and some other Hollywood assistants. When my fingers wrapped around the gauze-covered stems, I let out a wild shriek of delight.

“Devin’s going to freak,” I told Anya cheerfully as I handed the bouquet back to her. “He’s not going to know what hit him!”

Anya burst out laughing. “Please,” she said. “Knowing him and Troy, they probably had a bet going.”

Devin and Troy appeared. As Devin wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a kiss, I watched Anya and Troy cuddling together on the side of the stage.

“Come here,” Devin said. He wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me close. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Uh-oh,” I said softly. “That’s never good.” I rolled my eyes. “You’d better not break up with me at my best friend’s wedding,” I added. “She’ll kill you.”

Devin gave me one of his heartbreaking, crooked smiles. “Nothing like that,” he said. He tugged me over to the corner of the room and we sat down at one of the tables. The dance floor was packed, and everyone had eaten and now they were busy working on the cases of excellent champagne that a friend had sent to Anya and Troy as a wedding gift.

“So,” I said, shifting in the chair. “What exactly did you want to say?”

“Well, I want you to know that after I’m done working with the mayor’s daughter, I’m not doing any more body work,” Devin said. He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. “I don’t want you to be jealous,” he added. “I know that was bothering you the other night.”

Relief gushed through my body. I blinked and swallowed. “Well, thank you,” I said. “And I expect you couldn’t get out of that job because you’ve already given your word?”

Devin shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said. “They already paid me, and I needed the money for something important.”

“Like a new bike?”

Devin snorted. “No,” he said. “So, what are you going to be doing now?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my blonde locks. “Well, I’m done with pageant work,” I said softly. “I’m going to focus more on philanthropy. Anya even suggested I write a book, you know, about what happened. She said it would be a good role model for young girls going into showbiz since they have to deal with gross people like Ryan all the time.”

“Are you quitting pageants because of Ryan?” Devin’s voice was low and serious. I could barely make out his features in the dim light of the room. Leaning over, I kissed him gently on the lips. Devin wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in closer, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I moaned softly and felt my nipples stiffen against the silk of my dress before pulling away.

“No, I’m quitting because of you.” I sighed. “I’m quitting because I realized that I don’t just want to do meaningful things sometimes; I want to do them all the time. I want to spend more time at the hospital with my girls, and maybe even arrange to take some of them on day-trips to places around here. I think some of them would really love a trip to a theme park. At least, I know I would have loved that back when I was sick.”

Devin squeezed my hand. He leaned in and kissed me gently on the temple. The sensation of his scruff against the delicate skin of my face made me tingle with desire.

“That’s incredible, Katia,” Devin said. “I’m really proud of you.” His lapis lazuli eyes shone. “You’re such a good woman, and I know that whatever you do, you’re going to be amazing at it.”

I snickered. “So you’ll read my book? Even the chapters on fashion? And shoes?”

Devin crossed his heart with one hand. “Baby, I’d read anything you’d written,” he said. Devin stood up and leaned over, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter with a tray. As he handed one to me, we clinked and then drank.

“So,” I said. “What exactly did you need that money for? Didn’t I pay you well enough?”

Devin snorted. “You did,” he said carefully. “And, well…” He trailed off, suddenly looking nervous.

“You can tell me,” I insisted. “What? What’s the problem? Did you use it to help Troy with his medical bills or something?”

Devin chuckled. “No,” he said. “I wanted to get you this,” he added.

I was breathless as I watched Devin reach into the pocket of his jacket and pull out a small velvet box in robin’s egg blue. My mouth went dry as he opened it and offered me the box. Inside was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. It was a large, emerald-cut diamond flanked by two small round diamonds on each side set in platinum. The diamond reflected the low light of the reception hall, and I gasped, putting my hand to my chest as Devin reached for my left ring finger.

“Katia Reynolds, will you marry me?” Devin whispered.

Staring at him, I realized that while Devin wasn’t the kind of guy I thought I’d ever fall in love with, he was exactly who I wanted for my husband. He was loving, kind, sarcastic, and smart. He’d challenged me and surprised me, and I knew that he’d always be there for me.

“Yes,” I whispered. Tears spilled from my eyes as Devin slipped the ring over my finger. It fit perfectly, and I couldn’t help staring down at it and moving my hand in the air to make the diamonds sparkle.

“You’ve made me the happiest man on Earth,” Devin said as he leaned over and kissed me.

“There’s just one condition,” I said softly.

Devin raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “No more cheap motels.” I raised my eyebrows and laughed. “Or the marriage is off. And I mean that.”

Devin grinned. When he kissed me, I felt myself swoon against his muscular chest.

“I think we can manage that,” he whispered.

THE END

THE END

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CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Angel’s Keepers MC)

By April Lust

Daddy’s about to show his pet how it feels to be corrupted.

There’s a price to pay for venturing where you don’t belong.

And she’s about to learn that the hard way.

I’m going to f*ck a baby into her sexy little body…

Just to show her that purity lost can never be regained.

Angels like her should stay far away from hellholes like this.

But Little Miss Priss thought she could handle herself.

Too bad she wasn’t ready for me.

To be fair, not many girls are.

I’m too much for any lone woman to handle.

With biceps like tree trunks and a c*ck like a python –

not to mention a world-class filthy mouth to go along with it –

a night with me leaves scars that last a lifetime.

And yet, she wanted to take me for a ride.

I let her think she had a chance of walking away unscathed.

And then I did what I do best:

F*cked her until she could barely walk.

But this one deserved an extra special treat…

My baby in her belly.

If only I knew all the trouble that would bring.

Chapter 1

Amelia

Amelia turned on a smile and took a sip of her champagne. She needed both to get through the evening ahead of her.

“So, hesaidit was a yacht,” Lauren went on. “But, it was the smallest boat I’ve ever seen.”

Katie giggled, sweeping another three glasses of champagne off of a passing server’s tray. “Did he think you wouldn’t know?” she asked, handing the crystal flutes around. “Youare a Dorfman. He has to know your father has a fleet of his own.”

Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know what he thought, but I certainly didn’t sail off into the sunset with him on his pathetic little skiff.”

Amelia laughed because she knew Lauren expected it. The Dorfmans were big political supporters and even bigger donors. And Lauren was spoiled rotten. She’d already complained about the champagne, the venue, and the waiter who’d taken too long to get to her with the tray of hors d'oeuvres. Amelia hadn’t seen that particular waiter again, which meant Daddy Dorfman had taken care of it for his little girl. She pushed her annoyance down before it could show. Her father had been in politics since she was three; she knew how to arrange a poker face by now.

“At least your father lets you out of the house,” Katie said with a resentful sigh.

Lauren laughed, “Sweetie, I don’t ask.”

“My parents have decided I need to go to college this fall and they haven’t let me out of their sight since,” Katie went on, looking envious of the other young woman.

“What are you going to study?” Amelia asked, leaning forward in interest. She had loved her college years. The freedom had been part of it, but the sense of purpose had been even more important. She couldn’t believe she’d managed to land right back where she started.

Katie Martin only shrugged. “They haven't decided yet.”

Lauren sighed heavily. “You need to get your parents in line. I wasn’t nearly that bad when I was your age.”

Amelia smiled reluctantly. She and Lauren were closer in age than the senator’s daughter who stood with them, and Lauren had had her parents wrapped around her little finger since she was old enough to give orders.

“Well, not all of us have an investment portfolio of our own to fall back on if our parents disown us,” Katie snapped.

Lauren’s eyes widened for just a moment and then a cold, indifferent look settled on her sharply pretty face. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who’s interested in your problems,” Lauren said. “Why don’t you run along back to Mommy and Daddy, little girl? It must be getting close to your bedtime.”

Katie’s face flushed bright red and she cast a glance at Amelia. Amelia looked down into her glass. The Martin family didn’t donate to her father’s Taylorpaign. The Dorfman family did. She hated that that was a factor, but speaking up now wouldn’t do her father’s struggling Taylorpaign any good. Katie slammed her champagne glass down onto the nearest table and stalked away, her black Prada dress swishing with every angry movement.

Lauren laughed, but the amusement didn’t reach her hazel eyes. She was watching Katie with a narrow gaze that promised retribution.

“She’s just a kid,” Amelia said cautiously. She’d seen Lauren destroy other girl’s reputations before for slights both real and imagined. It was early in life for Katie to have to worry about that kind of thing. She was barely eighteen.

“A kid who needs to learn some manners.”

The accusation had struck home, Amelia could tell. The straw-colored liquid in Lauren’s glass was sloshing ever so slightly as her hand trembled.

“I’d be exactly like I am now if I didn’t have that money,” she said, her voice low and angry. “And she needs to understand that.”

Amelia laughed. She’d gotten it down to a science. It sounded exactly like she was really amused. Of course, twenty-three years of practice would do that for any skill. “Everyone knows that,” she lied. “Why waste your time with little Katie when you’ve got yachts to sail on? Now, tell me honestly, which of the waiters would you take home?”

Lauren scanned the room, placated and diverted. “The guy with the veggie platter is pretty hot.”

Amelia looked at him, too. “Tall, dark, and handsome. Isn’t that a little cliché?”

Lauren grinned. “Well, darling, I wasn’t planning on keeping him.” She straightened her dress. “I’ll be back.”

Amelia watched her walk away. Apparently, the dress, though it looked fairly simple, was part of an exclusive collection just off the Paris runway. Everyone had been talking about it.

Amelia had to admit it looked good. It was form-fitting with a deep plunging neckline and a scallop down the front that enhanced and caressed all of Lauren’s curves. To be perfectly honest, Lauren would have looked good in almost anything. Her confidence would have carried her even if her hours with a personal trainer weren’t obvious in every move she made.

Amelia rubbed the back of her neck. Her hair, swept back into an intricate chignon, was starting to come down just a bit. It always did, even though she’d tried every trick in the book to get it to stay where she’d put it.

It wasn’t just the hair either. She felt like there was always something just a little off about her appearance, no matter how hard she tried to match the other women in her circle.

Her hair would invariably come down, or there would be a small run in her stocking, or she’d arrive in what she thought was the latest trend, only to find her clothing just a few weeks out of style. Amelia’s own little black dress had missed the mark of simple elegance that Lauren’s had hit so effortlessly; she felt boring and stodgy. She sighed, wishing she could leave and knowing she couldn’t.

A booming voice over the speakers shook her out of her musings and made her jump.

Ben Barlow, the Governor of Nevada, had leaned close to the microphone. “And now,” he said jovially. “Let me introduce you to the man who made this possible, your state representative, Gregory Stratton!”

Amelia turned to watch her father ascend the small stage. He was smiling out at the crowd and she felt a slight surge of pride. He really did care a lot about the people of the state he represented. It was easy to forget when he was infuriating her and treating her more like a three-year-old than a twenty-three-year-old, but he was passionate about his job. She’d been so proud of him when she was younger.

“Good evening,” he said, his well-trained politician’s voice echoing through the room. “I’m so happy to see you all here. With your help and donations, I know we can conquer the drug problem in Nevada!”

The crowd clapped enthusiastically. Amelia looked down at her shoes. They’d argued over the fundraiser; she’d wanted him to do something more concrete with people’s time and money than the amorphous “war on drugs” but he’d shot down her suggestions. She let the rest of his speech wash over her without letting it really sink in. She’d heard him practicing enough over the past two months anyway.

When he was done speaking, he waited for the applause to end before leaving the stage. The crowd began reaching for purses and wallets, fired up to save the youth of their state from the evils of marijuana. His Taylorpaign might be struggling, but Gregory Stratton had always been an excellent and effective speaker, able to sweep a crowd right along with him.

Amelia turned away, wanting another glass of champagne. The irony of the fact that half of the group was tipsy, some of them even verging on drunk, while they rallied to stop substance abuse wasn’t lost on her. She planned to stay in control of herself here, though. The last thing she needed was to make of a fool of herself in front of some many of her father’s friends.

“Let me get that for you.”

She turned as someone reached around her and picked up two glasses. She vaguely remembered the man, but she couldn’t quite place him. She saw so many people at these types of events.

The man was good looking, but in an average, nondescript way. He had thick, light brown hair and pale blue eyes. His black, slim, crisp-enough-to-cut-someone Armani suit didn’t justsay ‘money’; it practically shouted it. His tie was in a perfect double Windsor knot. She was sure by the way he was looking at her that she should know him.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Amelia?”

“Yes,” she lied automatically, giving him her best social smile, wide and sincere. There was nothing she could do but be honest. There was no way to bluff an entire conversation. “But, I’m so sorry; I can’t remember your name.”

Those ice blue eyes blinked in surprise. “I’m Anthony,” he said, his suavity momentarily suspended, overridden by disbelief. “Governor Barlow’s son.”

Amelia’s face flushed. Of all the people to forget about. Governor Barlow was the man that her father was most hoping to impress tonight. “Of course,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile was a bit forced. “It’s not a problem,” he said. “I had hoped to be as memorable to you as you are to me...”

“I knew your face,” she said quickly, hoping to minimize the damage to his ego. “I just couldn’t remember your name. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other,” she went on, turning the conversation as smoothly as she could. “I think the last time was at your father’s reelection celebration. What have you been doing with yourself lately?”

He took a sip of champagne, apparently placated by her explanation. “I just finished my law degree.”

“Congratulations,” she said, actually meaning it this time. She leaned closer in interest. “What do you plan to do now? Is there a certain firm you’re looking at?”

He gave a negligent shrug, apparently getting bored with the topic. “I’m not sure. I’ll figure it out later, once I’ve taken a break.”

“Oh, I see.” She sighed as the avenue of conversation fell flat. Why did no one in her social circle want to do anything with their lives? Especially when most of them had the time, money, and status to do anything they wanted. She knew Anthony Barlow probably wouldn’t have much trouble finding a job in Nevada, but did he really have to sound so lazy about it?

“What about you?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

So much for hubris. Amelia glanced down at her shoes and held back a sigh. “Not much,” she admitted. “Helping Dad Taylorpaign for reelection and doing a lot of fundraisers and drives.” Or hindering him, depending on the day, but she wasn’t about to admit that to the man in front of her.

“That’s a lot,” Anthony said, looking over at her father, who was shaking hands with a senator and smiling as he spoke enthusiastically. “Your father has a lot of responsibility. I’m sure he’s happy you help him shoulder it, especially on a project that means so much to him.”

“Mmm,” she said absently as a sudden movement caught her eye.

Lauren was waving at her from a corner of the room. The wave grew slightly more frantic with each repetition. Amelia had no idea what could possibly be going on, but she needed to find out before Lauren drew too much attention to herself. Or before she gave up completely and walked away. Lauren Dorfman wasn’t known for her patience.

“I’m sorry, Anthony.” How many times was she going to have to apologize in one conversation? “Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” He held out his hand. “I’ll hold onto your drink for you.”

“Thank you.” He was telling her to come back, then. It was too smoothly done for her to reject him, but she resented the pushiness of it all the same.

Amelia hurried over to Lauren and glanced around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “What are you looking so excited about?”

“I’ve invited a few people back to my hotel for a party,” Lauren said in a quick whisper. “Want to come with us?”

Amelia glanced around. She could stay here and watch as stodgy people sipped champagne while her father funneled money into a meaningless buzzword of a cause. She could keep struggling through a conversation with a guy she barely remembered while she tried her best to garner support for her father’s flagging Taylorpaign. Or she could go to one of Lauren’s lavish, impromptu parties. She knew what sheshoulddo. She also knew what shewantedto do.

“I’m in,” she said excitedly.

Lauren flung her arms around Amelia with a squeal. “I knew I could count on you. Come on, the waiter showed me a side entrance. We can sneak out right now.”

Amelia wasted no time in following the impulsive socialite down the hall and out of the side entrance. They walked down a short alley, past some garbage bins, laughing as they left the fundraiser behind them. It felt just like skipping school and Amelia knew she’d probably catch hell for it later, but she couldn’t take one more second of polite conversation.

# # #

Amelia stumbled into the foyer of her house at three in the morning. She tried to close the door quietly, but she misjudged the distance between her hand and the doorknob. It was much closer than it had looked. The slam reverberated through the hall and she giggled.

Her head was swimming from the alcohol she’d consumed steadily for the past few hours. It hadn’t been just champagne that Lauren was serving and Amelia hadn’t had any shortage of guys bringing her shots. She’d downed so many that the cab ride back had felt more like a rollercoaster. Now it was feeling more like a dream or a long forgotten memory. Had she paid? She probably had...otherwise, she wouldn’t be in the house. She giggled again.

“You’re finally home.”

She whirled around, slipped in her stocking feet, and sat down hard on the marble floor. Muted pain buzzed up her backbone, but she had to choke back another drunken giggle. She’d just remembered that her shoes, her horribly uncomfortable black stilettos, were at the bottom of the hotel pool. Lauren had thrown hers in, as well, and soon all the women had.

Her father flicked a switch and the chandelier seemed to beam directly into her eye sockets. Amelia gasped and smacked a hand over her eyes.

“Where were you?” he demanded tightly.

“Out,” Amelia answered. “Making political connections.” She peeked through her fingers and glanced up at him. “Just like you.”

“Out destroying my career!” Gregory shouted, hauling her to her feet as his strong voice echoed off the walls and made her wince. “Do you realize you stood thegovernor’s son up tonight?”

She pulled her arm away quickly and nearly lost her balance. “How? We didn’t have a date! Or...” She reached out and steadied herself against the mahogany bannister. “Was that why he was talking to me? It’s not enough that you control everything else about my life? Now you’re trying to marry me off?”

“He was interested in you,” Gregory said, looking her over from her messy hair to her bare feet. “I didn’t see the harm in the two of you talking to each other. Though, if he could see you like this...”

“What?” Amelia challenged. “Then he wouldn’t want me anymore? I had no idea that you were so eager to sell your only child!”

“Sell you?” Her father’s shoulders rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m tired of you acting this way, Amelia May Stratton! Your drinking, your partying, your whining, your determination to run away from all your responsibilities to me, even at the expense of my career!”

“What?” Amelia began indignantly. “I--”

He held up his hand. “I’m not going to pay for you to behave this way anymore. And I’m certainly not going to fund you while you drag my name through the mud. This election has been hard enough!”

“Dad, I’m not--”

He cut her off brutally. “Get yourself together or pay your own way, Amelia. I’m done.”

She laughed, trying not to show the fear that was rising inside her. “And what exactly should I do, Dad? How do I prove I’ve gotten myself together?”

“Find a good man, marry him, and have some kids. Maybe help him with his career when you can. Keep your mind off of the stupid things you do when you’re alone.”

“Stupid things like enjoy myself with my friends?” she asked, furious that her voice was wavering.

Tears were beginning to sting her eyes. None of the people at the party were really her friends and her stomach was already beginning to twist from drinking too much. She didn’t enjoy herself away from home any more than she enjoyed herself when she was safe in the confines of her gated community.

“Or start paying your own bills,” he repeated. “I won’t pay you to flush your life, or my career, away.”

She opened her mouth to respond, then clapped her hand over it and ran up the stairs to the sanctuary of her ensuite bathroom. Showed what her father knew. She, Amelia Stratton, didn’t have a life of her own to flush away. She never had.

Chapter 2

Ethan

Ethan eyed the bike with a grin of pride and satisfaction that most people would have reserved for a wedding day or the birth of a child. Most people wouldn’t have directed it at the 1936 Flathead Harley Davidson in front of him. Surface rust covered the dilapidated bike from handlebars to tailpipe and it was missing a few pieces. The paint, which had been army green, was flaking off.

He loved it. He’d seen it on the poker run The Angel’s Keepers had done two weeks ago and he just had to have it. In his head, it was sleek and the chrome shone. In his head, it purred like a kitten and rode like a dream. In reality, it was going to take a shit ton of work.

He’d just started taking her apart when the garage door slid up and Taylor and Ryan walked in.

“Hey,” Ethan said, looking up quickly to acknowledge his road captain and his treasurer and then putting all his effort back into loosening rusted bolts. “Glad you stopped by, actually. Been meaning to talk to you about that ride out to the canyon and back.” It was getting close, but he hadn’t heard any final confirmations and that wasn’t like either of them. The wrench slipped from the pressure he was putting on the stubborn bolt and he skinned his knuckles on the engine. He switched hands and wiped the blood on his jeans.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “We need to talk to you about that, too.”

Ethan finally pried his eyes away from his new bike long enough to notice how serious his road captain looked. His eyes flashed to Taylor, who was the treasurer for The Angel’s Keepers, and he saw pretty much the same expression. That wasn’t good.

Taylor laid a folder down on the sheet Ethan had spread out under the bike and opened it to find a long column of numbers. “The numbers are shit,” Taylor said bluntly. “And the ride ain’t happening. There’s no way we can afford it.”

Ethan leafed through the paperwork. There was a big withdrawal just a few days ago.

“What’s this?” he asked, indicating it with a greasy finger. “I don’t remember anything that should have cost that much from the last meeting.”

“Building taxes,” Taylor answered, his voice tight with anger.

Ethan’s brows drew together as he looked at the spreadsheet. Numbers weren’t exactly his strong suit, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen the prices that high before. “They aren’t usually like this, are they?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, not by a long shot. When I went down to pay it, I asked. It’s part of Stratton’s new safety act.”

“Right, because how much I pay in taxes makes me safer,” Ethan said sarcastically.

A shadow fell over the spreadsheet and Ethan glanced up to see his Sergeant at Arms standing in the garage doorway, blocking out the late afternoon sun. William’s massive arms were crossed over his chest and he was scowling hard. “It ain’t your safety he’s worried about, dumbass.”

“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Ethan asked, going back to the numbers. There had to be some way to finagle them so they could still take the ride. Although, if there was, Taylor would have been the best man to find it.

“State Representative Gregory Stratton,” William growled. He stomped into the room and gestured for Taylor to get up off of the rolling stool he was currently occupying. Taylor stood quickly and without complaining. The Sergeant took no shit on a good day. No one in his right mind would argue with him when he looked like a thunderstorm.

“The taxes guy?” Ethan asked, turning away from the bike completely now. “Ryan, turn down the radio.” It looked like he wasn’t going to get any work done, and it looked like he had a damn good reason.

“Yeah,” William said, getting comfortable on the stool and lighting a cigarette. “This is gettin’ to be a serious problem.”

“How serious could building taxes be?” Ethan asked, looking at William questioningly. It seemed like a small thing for everyone to be so concerned about. Expensive, sure. But the only thing more certain than taxes was death, and they’d find a way to pay for it. “I mean, it sucks, but we can--”

“Nah, it’s more than that now.” William took a deep drag and exhaled smoke, looking like a pissed off dragon. “Ran into Rogers. Guy’s this close to gettin’ his colors.” He held up his thumb and forefinger a scant millimeter apart. “Tells me today that he’s backin’ out.”

“What?” Ryan demanded, standing up straight from his leaning position and looking surprised. “He sure as hell didn’t say anything to me when I asked him about the ride last week.”

William nodded. “Yeah. Asked him about that. He said his wife’s gettin’ real antsy about the bad spin in the press. They’ve got a kid on the way. I ask him what spin and he hands me this.” William lifted himself up, pulled a folded and creased newspaper out of his back pocket and handed it to Ethan.

“Motorcycle Club or Biker Gang? Nevada State Representative Gregory Stratton Questions the Difference.”

Ethan snorted. “Are you kidding me?” He tossed the clipping down onto the sheet beside the folder. “This isn’t exactly news anyway. We’ve never had a totally clean reputation.”

“No,” Taylor agreed. “The reputation might not be new, but the fees are. It’s not just the building taxes, Ethan. He’s upping the taxes on our dues and our colors.”

“And he’s pushing like hell to limit where and when we can all ride,” Ryan added, his face darkening with anger. “Something about us being a danger to responsible motorists.”

Ethan stood up, anger flooding him with sudden adrenaline. “What?”

“Have you had your head up your ass these past few months?” William demanded. “This has been everywhere.”

Ryan and Taylor took a few steps back, eyeing the two of them warily. Ethan felt his jaw clench and he had to resist the urge to step forward. He stopped himself though. He respected William too much to say any of the things that ran through his mind. William had been his father’s best friend. He’d been an honorary uncle from the time that Ethan had arrived in Nevada at the age of fifteen. He was a founding member of The Angel’s Keepers and he knew the club inside and out. Because of those things, Ethan counted to ten before he spoke again.

“Okay,” Ethan said when he’d stopped seeing red.

He pushed his hands down into his pockets and glanced at the Flathead. Getting it had taken up a lot of his time. And he’d gone on the poker run out to Lovelock. His schedule at the mechanic shop he worked at had been tight since two guys had quit right when the summer rush started. He’d been working a lot of overtime.

And then there’d been Rachel. And Carey. And Brittany. Too bad she’d moved on to someone else; he could have used some stress relief right about now. He had to admit that he hadn’t put as much into being the president as he should have lately.

“Get me up to speed.”

“Things are shit,” William said, lighting another cigarette.

“Specifics,” Ethan snapped. He liked William, but if he was going to give respect, he was damn well going to get it back in return.

“Anything related to motorcycle clubs that Representative Stratton can tax, he’s taxing,” Ryan said with a shrug. “It’s pretty much that simple.”

“So what are you gonna do?” William asked.

Ethan was momentarily at a loss. Then something that had been at the back of his mind for a while rose to the front. “What if we got a tax-exempt status?”

“Not sure we could.” Taylor answered readily. So his treasurer had already thought of it. It didn’t surprise Ethan, but it was disheartening. If Taylor couldn’t work it out, there probably wasn’t anyone who could. “It’s part of the umbrella we fall under,” the treasurer went on. “We fall under social and recreational clubs. He argues that we’re gangs and not a social club, the idiots higher up believe him, and there you go. No tax breaks for gang members.”

Ethan rubbed his chin. “Okay. So we just have to be a more charitable group of bikers, I guess.” Everyone looked at him suspiciously. “Hell, I’m not planning force you guys to make cupcakes,” he said with a grin. “The ride’s cancelled. We’ll have plenty of time to get something good and charitable together.”

“Not talking about any charities ’til I’ve had some beer,” William said gruffly, pushing himself up from the stool and looking just as pissed off as he had when he’d walked in. Well, Ethan thought, looking at Taylor and Ryan’s more hopeful expressions. You can’t please all of the people all of the time. “Get up with Kenny and Jimmy and tell them to meet us at The Hole. We’ll have a real meeting.”

Ethan didn’t think they were likely to get anything done at the bar, or even be able to hear each other clearly, but William was clearly not going to be talked out of this. He nodded in reply to the other man’s request. “Sure thing.”

“This shit was a lot easier when your old man was in charge,” William muttered as he turned to the door.

Ethan didn’t answer that. It had been easier. Easier on him, too. He’d only been a Road Captain then. Organizing the rides and poker runs and keeping the members’ bikes maintained had been a hell of a lot more fun than running the whole damn club. And Marcus Billings hadn’t had a State Rep with a pointless vendetta breathing down his neck.

He watched them leave and then sent a text to Kenny, his Vice President, and to Jimmy, the club secretary and most organized man on the face of the earth. While he waited for their answers, he started packing up his tools. There wasn’t going to be time to work on the Flathead today after all.

Chapter 3

Amelia

Amelia woke up with her head pounding. She’d forgotten to close the blinds and the bright morning sun that poured into her room from her large balcony window felt like an insult. She sat up slowly, putting one hand over her eyes and rubbing her temple with the other. Then she began to piece last night together. Lauren’s party, about a thousand shots, a blur of a cab ride and then...her father threatening to cut her off? One of those things was not like the other, but it felt right.

She replayed the evening again, adding details slowly but surely. Yep. He’d definitely accused her of trying to flush his career away. There had been tension between them since she’d graduated from college the year before, but nothing like this. He’d never been so obviously ashamed of her. Sure, coming home stumbling drunk wasn’t something any parent would really love to see their child do, but he’d been harsher on her for ditching Anthony than he had been for the drinking.

They would have to talk. Maybe today he would be calmer, more rational. Amelia vowed to do her best to be as logical as she could. There was no way she could keep living this way. She needed to find a way out of the walls that closed in around her every day. If he would help her with an apartment and a car, she could find work and slowly distance herself from him. If she presented it the right way, surely he’d say yes. She didn’t want anything crazy. Just a life of her own.

Amelia got up slowly, testing her balance. She wanted to take a shower, but she knew her father would be leaving soon, so she settled for brushing her hair and putting it up in a tight bun. Then she dressed in clothes that were casual, but that at least didn’t smell like cigarettes, spilled alcohol, and chlorine.

When she was satisfied that she looked fairly respectable, she walked downstairs. The smell of breakfast greeted her and twisted her stomach, but she sat down at the table beside her father. He was reading over some papers with a pen in one hand, his coffee going cold in front of him. It was his usual pose. The word relax wasn’t found in Gregory Stratton’s vocabulary.

Amelia poured a glass of juice and looked at the bacon thoughtfully. It smelled pretty good. Maybe she could eat something after all. A rumble from her stomach contradicted her and she took a cautious sip of juice instead. When it stayed where it was supposed to, she took a longer one.

“Have you thought about what I said?” Gregory asked without looking up from his notes.

She tried for some levity. Her father did have a sense of humor buried somewhere under his professional exterior. It couldn’t hurt to start with a smile. “About how you won’t buy me pretty things anymore if I’m not perfect?”

The glance he gave her was pained. So much for her attempt at humor. She glanced down at her plate and sighed.

“You should be prepared to take this seriously, Amelia. I am.”

“Why the sudden interest in my behavior?” She’d seen that look in his eyes before and it meant there was no talking him out of what was about to happen. Amelia was suddenly a little afraid that her logical approach wasn’t going to do the trick. She remembered that he’d mentioned setting her up with Anthony as part of the plan. A life of stilted conversations and boredom.

“Have you been payingany attention to my campaign?” he asked, his voice already tight with annoyance. “The last thing I need right now is you creating headlines!”

“What could they say?” Amelia demanded, hurt by the fact that he was more concerned about his campaign than he was with their already strained relationship splitting at the seams. “State Representative’s Daughter Does What Most People Do and Enjoys a Night Out With Friends? Where’s the scandal? Look at what Lauren Dorfman does in her spare time!”

“Her father isn’t a politician and I’m not taking any chances!” Gregory dug through the stack of papers beside him and pulled out a newspaper. “Look at this.”

A young man smiled out at her confidently. The headline over him asked if it was time for Gregory Stratton to exit Nevada’s political arena and let new blood take over. The opinion piece that followed pointed out that Stratton might be a little out of touch with today’s voters. Given his “war on drugs” party last night, Amelia was inclined to agree, but she knew better than to point it out.

“They’d rather have youth than experience,” her father said flatly. “But I’m not going down without a fight and I don’t need any distractions.”

“My life counts as a distraction?”

He looked at her steadily. “Yes.”

“It might make you look young and hip,” she said bitterly. “Having a daughter on the party circuit.”

“And how will it make me look when she comes home pregnant?”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Times have changed, dad. They won’t stone me for it anymore.”

Gregory yanked the paper back across the table and slammed it down on top of the stack so hard Amelia winced slightly. The plates and cutlery rattled. “I’m not discussing this,” he hissed. “Either you play by the rules or you find your own way. I’m sure I don’t need to point out howuseful your degree in human services will be in getting a job.”

Amelia’s hand clenched on her glass and she put it down with a loud thump. Her father wasn’t the only one who could abuse dinnerware to make a point. “I could get a job with that degree right now!”

Gregory laughed. “Sure you could, honey. And where would you live with your minimum wage salary?”

“Wouldn’t it make you look better if I did something like that?” she demanded, trying to remember what she’d originally planned and bring the conversation around in a way that would satisfy him and get her the hell out of this house. “Selfless Gregory Stratton and his selfless daughter, helping the poor. Dad, it couldn’t possibly make you look bad.”

“What could you possibly accomplish?” he asked, and the genuine confusion in his voice made tears well in her eyes. “There’s nothing you can do for these people. They live the way they live because they want to. They can’t be taught.”

She felt sick all over again, and it had nothing to do with her hangover. “Dad, you’re supposed to care, too. The last time you were running, you talked about bringing jobs here and helping people rebuild after the economic crash.” She’d been proud of him then. He actually had helped create some jobs back then and the economy had taken a slight upswing.

“I do care! I care about keeping our meaningful citizens safe!”

“Meaningful?” She pushed her chair back, sick from her stomach and in her heart. “I don’t care if you do cut me off. I--”

“I’d rethink that,” he said, calm again. He looked at her with derision as she started to walk away. “Come back to me when you’re less emotional. There are a lot of things to work out.”

# # #

Amelia stomped upstairs and into her bathroom where she turned the shower on full force. She hated how childish it all felt. He’d practically told her to go to her room!

What she hated more was what her father had said. Taking care of meaningful citizens? Poor people were poor because they wanted to be? She agreed more and more with the opinion piece. Her father was out of touch. Out of touch and possibly even dangerous to people who were counting on him to help them. If he lost this race it was because he deserved to. She would leave as soon as she had some things together. There was no way she could stay after that argument.

She stepped under the pounding spray, holding her breath and letting the hot water pour down on her throbbing head. More of her father’s words reverberated through her mind though and her indignation turned to worry. If she did leave, where would she go? He wasn’t going to let her take any money and she didn’t have any friends that she wanted to talk to about this. Except Aubrey. But Aubrey wasn’t exactly close by. And Amelia liked her too much to feel okay asking to borrow money from her. She was stuck at home for now.

Whatwould she do with her degree? Where would she live if she didn’t live with her father? She knew what she could expect to make and it wasn’t enough.

Who was she kidding? She’d never make a difference anyway. Unless...would she be able to do more if she stayed in the political scene? Anthony might be boring, but he’d also want to look good, to bring his father more votes and status. Amelia’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. She might hate the life of a political kid, but she knew it inside and out. She could stay in, work from the inside, and maybe actually do something that meant something.

Or was she rationalizing so she didn’t have to leave her comfort zone? She glanced around at the grey and white swirls in the marble tile that surrounded her. It had been imported from Italy when she’d wanted the bathroom redone after high school. The soothing gray blue on the walls complimented the tile perfectly, just as the interior designer her father had hired had told her it would.

Amelia glanced out of the steamed-up glass shower door and looked at her Japanese orfeo. Made of hammered steel and deep enough for her to sit in up to her neck, it was the showpiece of the room. Candles and jars of expensive bath salts that she bought on whims and then somehow never actually used were balanced on the wide rim. She didn’t even actually know how much she’d spent and the realization made her feel even worse.

There wouldn’t be any of this if she lived on her own. No more meals out. No more days at spas or boutiques. No more pampering in general.

It wasn’t necessarily the stuff she’d miss, though. It was the fear of how she would be without it. Bitter ex-rich girl? She’d met a few in her time and she’d felt bad for all of them. It was the last thing she wanted to be. Being her father’s puppet wasn’t exactly at the top of her list either, however. All of her thinking had brought her right back to where she’d started.

Amelia sighed and reached for the shampoo, tilting her head back and lathering up, letting the sweet scent do what it could to make her feel better. She needed to decide. If she was going to give in to her father – and she usually did – she wanted to give in on her own terms. So what did shereally want?

There were a lot of things, but there were probably only a few that she could actually manage under the radar. Her mind raced over everyone she knew. Lauren’s freedom stood out. Lauren, who flitted from man to man with a smile and absolute confidence. Amelia had never been able to do that. Probably why she was still a virgin.

Her hands went still as she thought of Anthony. Would he expect her to go to bed with him? That was a completely unappealing thought. There’d been no hint of a spark between the two of them. Maybe he didn’t want her either. Amelia was more relieved than insulted.

She thought about losing her virginity to Anthony and it looked bleak. Passionless. Lauren always said rich boys were terrible lovers.

When Amelia had asked her why, she’d smiled bitterly and said, “Darling, they never have to work for anything. Give me a working-class man in bed any day.”

Amelia had always taken it with a grain of salt that every trust fund free man was good in bed, but Lauren had much more experience and knew a lot more about that sort of thing. Amelia had considered it a few times, but there’d never been anyone who’d been anything more than a moment of curiosity. She wanted more than that. She wanted a man who could make her need him, even if it was only for one night.

Her thoughts ground to a halt. Was that what she wanted? A night free of the cage before she signed the majority of her freedom away? Free to do whatever...whomever...she wanted?

Yes.

Her father was going out of town on a business trip, too. Now was the perfect time. He wouldn’t know where she was. More to the point, he wouldn’t know she wasn’t at home. Her hands began to shake, but more with excitement than anything else.

Having made up her mind, she began to take more care with the shower. She rubbed on a facemask, and smoothed a hair mask through her long hair. While she waited for those to do their magic, she made sure she was shaved and smooth, looking at herself more critically than usual.

She’d never set out to seduce anyone before. Tonight would be different. She’d find the best-looking guy in the seediest bar and go home with him, come hell or high water.

There was a knock on her bathroom door and she nearly dropped her razor.

“Yes?” she called over the sound of the running water pounding down.

“I’m leaving,” Gregory said, his voice heavy.

“Fine,” she answered. “Oh. Dad...before you go...”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve decided to do what you asked.” She waited, hoping her acquiescence would make him see how unreasonable he was being.

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad you decided to see some sense. Anthony is planning to take you out this weekend. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Fresh anger flooded through her, but she kept her tone sweet. “See you soon. Have a good trip.”

He didn’t respond, but she heard the floorboards creak slightly as he moved away. Good to know that she apparently had a date. Creepy to know her father had arranged it for her already.

Chapter 4

Amelia

As evening drew in, Amelia stared blankly into her closet. She might know exactly what she wanted to do tonight, but that didn’t mean she had any idea how to dress for it. Jeans and a tee shirt? No, that didn’t make sense. She was going for seductive. Something a little more revealing? Somethingmuch more revealing? Her heart pounded even though she was still in her own home. She didn’t have to go through with the plan. Not if she didn’t want to.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Yes, she did. Her father’s words still rang through her mind. The more she thought about them, the angrier she became.

She was still staring at the array of clothing when her computer chirped the Skype alert. There was only one person who ever Skype called her. She rushed over and hit accept.

“Hey, Amelia!”

Amelia smiled. The first real smile she’d felt in a long time. “Aubrey!” She tilted the screen, eyeing the women who filled the screen. Something was different. “You look great!”

Aubrey grinned and pretended to fluff her new pink and blonde pixie cut. “This old, fabulous hair? Why thank you.”

Amelia laughed, feeling most of the stress she’d accumulated since before the fundraiser vanishing. She was Amelia’s oldest friend. Aubrey had moved to Nevada in sixth grade and she and her military family had been gone before seventh grade started.

Amelia had expected that to be the end of their friendship, but Aubrey had been determined to stay in touch. She had written Amelia letters on Lisa Frank stationery faithfully, week after week. Amelia had taken a while to respond, but it hadn’t mattered. Aubrey had seen Amelia’s need for friendship and had decided to fulfill it. In a very real way, Aubrey had kept Amelia sane through her formative years.

The letters had become emails as the years passed, the emails became instant messages, and now they spoke on Skype several times a week. In addition to being her longest friendship, Amelia knew without a doubt that Aubrey was her only meaningful friendship. They might talk about clothes, money, and men from time to time, but normally they talked about Aubrey’s job, or the latest news in any number of subjects. Aubrey stayed informed on almost every issue somehow, and Amelia always felt better and smarter after one of their talks.

“How’s the new job going?” Amelia asked. “You must be doing well if you’re celebrating with fancy hair.”

Aubrey’s eyes lit up. “Amelia, it isso great. The director and I are really on the same page, and I finally feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, you know?”

Not really. “I’m happy for you,” Amelia said instead of answering the question. “It sounds like the move really was the right choice.”

“It was,” Aubrey agreed. “I swore I’d never move again after I got my own place and didn’t have to follow Dad around the country anymore.” She grinned and shrugged. “So, having inadvertently lied the first time, I hereby swear it again.” She held her clenched fist up to the ceiling of her living room and shook it dramatically. “As God is my witness, I will never leave Texas!”

“I like having you a little closer,” Amelia said. “Ten hours is better than...what was it? Thirty-five when you were in Connecticut?”

“Thirty-eight,” Aubrey corrected. “And I kind of like this dry heat thing Texas has going on. You know I hate the snow.”

“Only because you’re scared to drive in it.” Amelia stood. “Mind if I take you over to the dressing table? I’ve got to get my makeup on.”

“Go nuts. You know the stuff fascinates me.”

Aubrey never wore anything more than lip gloss and maybe a coat of mascara if she was feeling fancy. She wasn’t making a statement; she just didn’t have the interest.

Amelia envied the confidence. She hadn’t walked out the door without makeup on since the age of twelve when she’d seen a picture of herself in the paper next to Lauren and was horrified at how much more polished the other girl was.

She carried the laptop to her dressing table, set it down on the edge and flicked on the lights of her mirror.

“My eyes!” Aubrey cried dramatically, clapping both of her hands over her face.

“Oh, sorry!” Amelia angled the laptop so the bulbs on the mirror weren’t shining directly into the camera.

Aubrey laughed. “I can’t believe you still have that mirror.”

“Hey, it might be as old as I am, but it works,” Amelia replied, getting her brushes and palettes out, assembling what she hoped would end up being an irresistible makeup look.

“You know I was dying for one the first time I saw it, right?”

“Really?” Amelia looked at the white-framed mirror with its attached Hollywood-style bulbs and then at her no-frills friend. “It doesn’t exactly seem like...you.”

“I know. So impractical. It would have gotten broken the first time we moved. That’s probably why I wanted it,” she admitted.

“I know what your housewarming present should be, then,” Amelia said, patting concealer under her eyes and making a mental note to order the gaudiest, fanciest makeup mirror she could find the next day.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Aubrey promised. “So, let’s talk about you. What are you getting ready for?”

Blatant disobedience. “Nothing special.” She didn’t know how Aubrey would react to her plan and she didn’t want to test it. She’d already ruined one person’s opinion of her. Amelia began blending her foundation and then applied a few coats of mascara.

“I don’t know how you do that without opening your mouth,” Aubrey commented. “I thought the weird face was an essential part of putting on mascara.”

Amelia snapped the wand back into the tube and closed it with a practiced flick of the wrist. “That’s only because you’re a hippie.”

“Hey!”

A glance at the screen told her that Aubrey wasn’t offended. To be honest, Aubrey rarely was. She was the most easygoing person in Amelia’s life and talking to her was always as soothing as a visit to a spa.

“Seriously, though, Amelia,” Aubrey went on. “This is the look of a woman with something up her sleeve.”

“My father is forcing me into a life of respectability and dates with the governor’s son,” Amelia replied before sweeping bold red lipstick over her mouth carefully. “I plan to go out with a bang.”

She checked her lips in the mirror, pleased with the way they had turned out. She might not be the sexiest woman in the world, but she felt happy with the bolder look. Her father hated it when she wore red lipstick. Or more than one coat of mascara. She felt almost like a pinup girl. She definitely felt confident and that was great, because she needed all the confidence she could get.

“You do have kind of a sexy war paint look going on,” Aubrey admitted. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to be respectable,” Amelia said firmly, capping the lipstick and dropping it into the tray again with a small clatter. “Tomorrow. Tonight? I’m going to do whatever I damn well please.”

Chapter 5

Ethan

Ethan glanced around The Hole. The bar was busy, the way it always was on Friday nights, and everyone was scattered around.

This was the first time he and his whole MC had managed to get together in a long time. He wasn’t the only one with a lot on his plate these days. William was sitting at a table in the corner, scowling.

“Cheer up.” His girlfriend, Maria dropped down into his lap and stroked one finger down his jawline. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep making that face.”

He swatted her hand away, but he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “You got a problem with that, then you shouldn’t have moved in with a guy ten years older than you,” he informed her.

“If I had aproblem with it, I wouldn’t have stuck around for twenty years,” she shot back.

Ethan hid a laugh with sipping his beer, but Maria gave him a wide smile. She was good looking for someone almost old enough to be his mother, and she was probably the only woman in the world calm enough to match William’s crazy.

She and William also had the most stable relationship out of anyone in the MC, though Taylor’s girl, Penelope, was starting to look more like a permanent fixture than Ethan had thought when he’d first met her. The two of them were currently by the jukebox, flipping through the selections and arguing amiably.

Ryan was leaning close to a dark-haired woman at the bar, clearly offering to buy her a drink and even more clearly hoping to impress her. Jimmy, the secretary, and Kenny, the Vice President of The Angel’s Keepers, had stopped by a table of her friends, chatting casually.

“Thought we were supposed to be having a meeting,” William groused.

Ethan took a long pull of his beer and then thumped the bottle down. “In the middle of a bar? When we’ve barely had time to sit down for weeks? Come on, you had to know it wasn’t gonna happen.”

William shrugged.

“He just wanted to drink,” Maria said.

William pushed her up and out of his lap and smacked her ass. “Go find someone else to bug,” he suggested.

Maria wriggled her eyebrows and walked over to the table where Jimmy and Kenny were still hanging around. William and Ethan watched as she draped an arm across each of their shoulders and then leaned down to the girls. Whatever she said made both women look at the men with much more interest.

“She’s a helper,” Ethan said admiringly.

“She’s a shit stirrer,” William said shaking his head even though his tone was affectionate. “What happened to...what was her name?”

“Brittany?”

“No.”

“Rachel?”

“No.”

“Carey?”

“No...”

Ethan looked blank. William shook his head and sighed. “You’re gonna wear it out, kid.”

“Kelly!” Ethan said suddenly.

William snapped his fingers and then pointed at Ethan. “That’s the one. I liked her.”

“She moved out to L.A. a few months back. Wanted to be an actress. Or a model.” Ethan shrugged. “I can’t remember which one. It might have been both.”

William snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe she’ll get up with you on her way back home.”

“She might make it. She was kinda hot,” Ethan said.

“You’d know better’n me,” William replied, taking several long sips of his beer. He’d barely put it down before Maria was back, dropping another one in front of him with a wink.

William reached out and pulled her back down into his lap. “Perks of living with a waitress,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

She wriggled in his lap and gave him her bite-the-bottom-lip grin. “Not everyone gets these perks, big guy.”

Ethan stood up. “Gonna get more beer.”

He still had half a bottle, but William’s scowl had finally faded, so he figured he’d let the guy relax. The better William’s mood, the more inclined he would be to be helpful in wrangling the rest of the MC for an attempt at a meeting.

He was halfway to the bar when he saw the door open. He stopped in the middle of the room, staring in pure surprise. It was a woman. That wasn’t really the shocking part; lots of women came to The Hole. Most of them were honest enough and just looking for a rough guy to take a ride with later. In both senses of the word. This woman, though...God. He’d never seen anyone like her walk through these doors.

She was small, a bit more than a foot shorter than his own six feet five inches. Her slender body was shown off to its best advantage in a clinging green dress. He thought maybe it was silk and lace. He knew for sure that it was sexy.

Her red gold hair fell down over her shoulders in soft waves and framed a heart shaped face that made his mouth go dry. He’d had his share of pretty women. This one was gorgeous. Her bright red lips and dark eye makeup reminded him of the ’40s pinup girls that decorated one full sleeve of art on his arm.

She was obviously well off, too; even he knew the bright red sole of her black stilettos meant money. Her bag had a clear emblem on it, too. And there was something about the way she held herself, framed in the doorway, lit by the harsh lights, that told him she was used to being watched. He wasn’t the only one staring and that pissed him off.

She stepped into the bar and the smooth skirt moved with an alluring sway around her lean legs. As she walked closer, clearly headed to the bar, he could see her green eyes flash. Her full mouth was set determinedly. Was she tracking down a cheating boyfriend? If so, he was happy to kick the guy’s ass for her.

His brain only kicked into gear once she had taken a seat at the bar. He moved after her, trying hard not to hurry. He wasn’t the first to get there.

“What can I buy you, sweetheart?”

The woman looked the man up and down. Ethan could see she wasn’t impressed. He didn’t really blame her. Michael Slattery was the leader of another MC just outside of Elko. Michael considered The Angel’s Keepers a rival. Ethan considered Michael a moron.

Ethan stood behind the woman and gave Michael a smile. “Nothing,” he said, making the woman look over her shoulder and up at him. He glanced down and read appreciation in her big green eyes. A knot in his stomach relaxed.

“Why don’t you let the girl speak for herself?” Michael demanded, drawing himself to his full height and stepping closer.

“You mean the woman?” Ethan questioned, leaning casually against the bar.

“Whatever. Ain’t your call, Sammy boy. It’s hers.” Michael was barely looking at the woman now, spoiling for a fight that he clearly felt had been coming for too long. “Unless maybe you think me and you should take it outside.”

“If I’m gonna kick your ass,” Ethan said easily. “I’d rather have an audience.”

The woman had turned to face him now, her eyes wide, her breathing faster than it had been before. He tried not to look, but he couldn’t help but follow the plunging neckline of her dress to the swell of her pale breasts.

She bit her lower lip. She was clearly a little afraid. She was also watching him much more closely than she’d watched Michael. William was approaching from the back of the bar. Taylor, Ryan, and Kenny were getting up from their various conversations to join him. Jimmy was looking up from his game of pool speculatively. He always analyzed the situation a bit longer than the rest. Ethan appreciated it. He pushed himself upright.

“She turned down your drink. I’m turning down your fight. Looks like there’s nothing left for you to do, Michael. I’d suggest you get the hell out of here.”

“Fuck you, you don’t own the place!” Michael took a quick step forward.

William grabbed the back of his vest and jerked him back so fast that he nearly lost his balance.

“You can either hit the road, or I can make sure it hits you,” the Sergeant at Arms snarled.

Michael straightened his jacket and eyed William appraisingly for a moment. He decided that he didn’t want to try it and walked away as fast as he could without being accused of being a coward. William walked back to his table in the corner after giving the woman a quick glance and Ethan a raised eyebrow.

Clearly William was wondering what the hell she was doing there. William wasn’t the only one. A lot of the men in the bar had turned their attention her way. But none of them were willing to challenge Ethan.

Ethan turned to the bartender, trying to figure out the best way to approach her. “Whiskey.”

The bartender, not the least rattled by the near miss at a brawl, poured a glass and slid it over. Ethan picked it up and took a burning sip. The woman smiled at the bartender when he glanced her way.

“Same,” she said simply. The whiskey glass was in her hands before she looked up at Ethan again. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t really know what to do.”

“No problem. That guy’s a dickhead.”

She nodded. “He looked like it.”

“And what about me?” Ethan asked. “What do I look like?”

She sipped her drink and then gave him a quick smile. “A man with good taste in whiskey.”

“And you look like a woman who got lost on her way to somewhere better,” he said bluntly. Hell, the only other option was “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” and he wasn’t willing to go quite that far in order to get his question answered. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged lightly and raised her glass to her lips. Just before she took a sip, she said, “Branching out. There are only so many fundraisers a woman can take.”

“I think you’re pretty safe from that here. The only time we have fundraisers is when Taylor’s too broke to drink,” Ethan said, raising his voice so his friend could hear him as he approached the bar.

Taylor laughed and flipped Ethan off. The woman smiled, revealing a dimple in her left cheek, and Ethan’s stomach clenched again.

“Never told you my name,” he said abruptly. “Ethan.” He held his hand out, wanting her touch.

“Amelia,” she answered, placing her small-boned hand into his.

Her skin was pale and smooth. His gaze dipped to her cleavage once more and he allowed himself a slightly longer glance now that she wasn’t afraid. Her breasts were on the small side, but they looked full for their size. There was a dusting of small freckles on her chest and he wanted to follow every one of them with his tongue.

“How do you like it, Amelia?” he asked, more insinuation in his tone than he’d planned.

Her blush at the question tinted her cheekbones a pleasing pink. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman flush with anything other than anger or liquor. He saw her throat work as she swallowed.

“The bar or the company?” she asked, her voice only loud enough to be heard over the jukebox.

He leaned down, speaking closer to her ear. “Both.”

She turned her head, her breath warm on his skin as she said, “One’s okay. The other is exactly what I was looking for.”

He stepped back and finished his whiskey in one drink. He liked the light in her eyes and the curve of her mouth when she flirted with him. He liked the way that she spelled out what she wanted and what she thought. He was tired of the games that seemed to come with a night or two of mutual satisfaction.

“Dance with me,” she said suddenly.

“I don’t dance,” he answered just as quickly.

She stood up, finished her own drink, and caught his hand. “That’s okay. I do.”

Knowing that William and the rest of the guys were never going to let him live it down, and finding it completely impossible to care what they thought, Ethan let her pull him out near the jukebox. She smiled up at him, clearly happy that he was letting her lead him.

“Now,” she instructed. “Just put your hands on me and I’ll do the rest.”

He rested his hands on her slender hips as she found the rhythm in the song. She moved sensuously, her body brushing his just enough to make his skin tingle for more contact. He wanted to pull her closer, wanted to taste those red lips, the whiskey on her tongue.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he said as she twisted her hips, letting him feel her move.

Amelia gave a half smile, flashing that dimple again. “I’m good at a lot of things, Ethan.”

His hands tightened on her. He still didn’t quite understand why she was in this rundown biker bar, but he was so damn glad she was.

Chapter 6

Amelia

Amelia couldn’t quite believe she’d been so bold. Or so lucky. She had picked the bar at random, telling the cab driver to stop when she saw the gleaming motorcycles lined up under the neon lights. The cabbie had pressed his card into her hand when she’d insisted that this was where she wanted to be dropped off. He’d been so clearly concerned that she’d felt honored. While she appreciated the gesture, she hadn’t wanted anyone worrying about her tonight. This might be the last night she’d ever be truly free.

Of all the men she’d imagined populating a bar like this, she hadn’t expected anyone like the man she was currently dancing with. For one thing, he’d defended her and he’d done it without throwing a single punch. She’d been amazed and more than slightly relieved that the encounter between Ethan and Michael had ended the way it had ended. She was in the mood to be a little wild, but not quite ready for center of a bar fight wild.

For another thing, the man she was currently dancing with was better than good looking. He was devastatingly hot. Ethan had to be close to six and a half feet tall and he simply towered over her. His broad shoulders strained the seams of his plain black tee shirt and she could tell that the rest of him was just as muscular.

She couldn’t resist resting her hands on his biceps, which were rock hard. His chest and stomach were equally defined, but her courage wasn’t quite up to them yet. In her world of office workers and campaign managers, he was certainly the biggest man she’d ever been close to. And, yet, she felt perfectly safe.

It was more than just his body, though. He had a way of moving that was absolutely intentional and confident, even though he hadn’t been lying when he said that he didn’t dance. He was moving slightly, mostly just holding onto her, keeping his body as close to hers as he could get it. She wasn’t complaining. She wanted to look at him as closely as she could.

He had thick, black hair that was cut shorter on the sides and left slightly longer on top. He kept it pushed back, but stray pieces fell over his forehead, making him look a little less intimidating than his firm features and muscular build implied. She couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes in the low bar lights, but they were dark. His smile was gorgeous, curving his lips, flashing even, white teeth, crinkling those dark eyes at the corners. It was especially delicious because she hadn’t expected any of the men here to have a sense of humor at all. A kissably firm jawline and a five o’clock shadow finished off his good looks. What would that stubble feel like on her skin? She didn’t know, but the thought of finding out sent shivers through her.

“These are nice,” she said when the music changed to a slower song, a classic rock ballad. She traced her finger down the inside of his forearm, admiring the art there. “I like all of them. Or at least, all the ones I can see.”

“Hell, I like everything about you,” he said, too distracted by how amazing such a simple touch from her felt and by how she was moving to conceal the way he was feeling.

“You do?” She regretted the question immediately. The woman she was channeling tonight wouldn’t be shocked at a man’s appreciation. She’d take it as her due.

He gave her a frank appraisal. “What’s not to like?”

Amelia saw the look in his eyes when Ethan pulled back and it made her breath catch in her throat. Intent burned dark there and she felt herself begin to tremble. No one had ever looked at her that way. She stopped dancing, going onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around him, feeling the tension in his broad shoulders. “It all looks really good to me,” she said. “So... you’re in a biker bar...I’m guessing one of those bikes out there is yours....”

“Yeah?”

“Well...” She gathered her courage. It was easier than she’d thought it would be because she was close to desperate to have his amazing mouth on hers. “Will you let me ride?”

He scanned her face, seeming to make sure that they were on the same page. Then he grinned, a slow smile that made her knees go weak as her stomach somersaulted. “Only if you promise to hold on tight,” he said.

# # #

In the parking lot, Ethan stopped in front of a gleaming blue motorcycle.

“This one’s mine,” he said.

She could hear the pride in his voice. “What kind is it?”

He glanced down at her. “Are you really interested?”

“Of course I am!” Amelia answered, slightly indignant. “I might not know a lot about them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn.”

Ethan eyed her appraisingly and then handed her his helmet without speaking. Before she had a chance to begin fumbling to put it on, he leaned down and kissed her. All she could do was grip the helmet as his mouth worked over hers. She’d been kissed before, of course. She’d even liked it. She’d always thought kisses were nice. Slightly tingly. Basically, just okay. This was completely different. It was like an earthquake in every heartbeat. Ethan’s lips coaxed hers to part easily and when his teeth caught her lower lip, she surprised herself with a moan of pleasure.

His hand tightened on the back of her neck at the sound, but he pulled back from the kiss. His breathing was a little heavy as he looked down at her, watching her steadily. She could feel her nipples tightening and she knew that he could see it through the thin silk of her dress.

“Still okay with going home with me?” he asked.

Amelia nodded rapidly and then cleared her throat, trying to look a little less desperately eager. “I’d love to.”

He grinned and traced his thumb down her cheek. “Good, because I’d love to have you.”

Before she could respond, he took the helmet out of her hands and pushed it down over her head. Then he slung a leg over the bike and helped her settle in behind him. She leaned close, pressing against his back.

“Arms around me,” he said, his voice rough. “Keep ‘em tight and lean when I lean. The sooner I get you home the better.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling his stomach muscles tense as he kicked the bike into gear. The hum of it between her legs, combined with feeling his lean back against her aching nipples, had her whole body tingling.

Amelia let her hands dip just slightly, down to the waistband of his jeans, where she cupped him surreptitiously. She couldn’t hear it over the roar of the bike, but she thought that she felt him groan. She caught her breath. He was pretty big. And likely to get bigger once they got started. Maybe she’d chosen the wrong guy.

They stopped at a red light and his hand moved back, rubbing the backs of his fingers down her thigh. Her skin tingled. No. This was the only man she wanted for the task at hand. She shivered when he squeezed her gently and then seamlessly pulling into traffic, driving confidently and casually. The way he moved with the bike was sexy as hell, an extension of the way he moved through a crowd.

It seemed like too soon when they pulled up to the curb and she had to slide off of the bike. Amelia looked up at the small white house. The blue painted window and doorframes were just visible under the flickering streetlight. The house itself was in good shape, though. Unlike the neighboring houses, Ethan’s had no peeling paint or ripped window screens. There wasn’t anything scattered on the postage stamp front lawn either.

It was just as unapologetically plain as the surrounding homes, though. There was no sign of any landscaping, and in Nevada's desert atmosphere, the brown grass crunched under her feet. He led her up the cracked concrete front steps and onto the small front porch where he fumbled for a second to get the key into the lock. His porch light was burnt out.

The door swung open and he pressed a switch, illuminating a small lamp that sat beside the door. The walls were bare and paneled. The carpet was old and worn down. She could see through the small room and into the kitchen where there were a few dishes piled in the sink. The appliances were plain white; none of the shine of stainless steel that she was used to.

But, again, the place was clean and relatively neat. Some mail was scattered on the couch and there were a few DVD cases and discs haphazardly tossed on the small table under the television that hung on the wall, but that was all. She turned to find his eyes scanning her face. He seemed to be bracing himself. This couldn’t possibly be the first time he’d brought a girl home...or was he just as aware of the differences between them as she had been?

“Pretty nice place for a single guy,” she said lightly. “I expected a carpet of beer bottles and maybe a crazy ex waiting behind the door.”

“We have an agreement. She only comes over on Tuesdays,” Ethan assured her. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “Now that I know the place meets your approval, I’d love to take you to the bedroom.”

Sudden nerves fluttered in Amelia’s stomach, but she nodded and then followed him down the short hall and into an even smaller room. It just managed to hold a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser and still leave room to walk around.

It was the bed that held her attention, though. Or, rather, the thought of what was about to happen in it. They were really going to do this. She was going to let this huge, rough, biker have her virginity. Excitement joined the nerves at the thought of him over her...inside her.

“Hey,” he said, tilting her chin so she was looking up at him. “Okay?”

And, just with that question, her nerves were gone. She nodded, standing on tiptoe again. “Better than okay,” she said.

He kissed her again, one of those all-consuming kisses that seemed to be his specialty. This time, his hands slid down her sides, moving around to cup her ass and rock her against him. In the spur of the moment, she wrapped her legs around him and a rough groan rumbled against her lips.

Ethan took a step, turning, pressing her against the bedroom door. She could feel his cock straining against her even through his thick jeans. It must be as big as the rest of him. When he gave a slight thrust between her widespread legs though, she threw her head back. Even clothed, he felt good.

“You aren’t wearing underwear,” he said in surprise.

She looked down to see that her dress had been rucked up, revealing more than she’d meant to right away. Amelia looked into his dark eyes and read pure lust there.

“God, if I’d known that when we were dancing, we never would have made it back here,” he said.

Keeping her braced between his body and the door, he reached down, grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it up over her head. She was suddenly in nothing but her bra and heels. She hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. Or where he could see her so well. He’d see her scars. There would be questions...

He kissed her again, his hands cupping her ass and his tongue teasing hers insistently. Relief flooded her and she returned the kiss with abandon, wanting more and more of him. His t-shirt was frustrating her; she wanted to feel his heated skin against hers.

Amelia put her feet on the floor again and tugged his shirt off. His chest was better than she’d imagined. There was a tattoo across it, but she couldn’t really read it in the half light of his bedroom, so maybe he hadn’t seen her scars after all. A slight sheen of sweat made his body even more mouthwatering. Dark hair made a line that dipped into his jeans. She followed it. When his stomach muscles went tense, she slid her hand under his waistband and found his cock.

It was as big as she’d thought it was. Heavy and long and thick, she loved the feel of it in her hand. She just wasn’t ready to have it between her legs. Ethan unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down, kicking off his boots, too.

“Do you like this?” Amelia asked, even though she could see that he did. His cock was throbbing in her hand; she was surprised that she could feel it.

“A little bit too much.” He picked her up, carrying her to the bed and dropping her down onto it. Intent was burning in his eyes again.

“Wait!” Amelia cried. This was too sudden. “Not...not yet.”

Ethan looked confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...it’s just...” She decided that a half-truth fit the situation best. “It’s just that you’re going to be the biggest I’ve ever had. I’m not ready yet.”

He couldn't hold back a grin at that knowledge. “Okay,” Ethan said. “I can fix that.”

He braced himself over her again, but before she had time to worry, he was kissing his way down the side of her neck. His stubble was rough on her skin, but his lips and tongue soothed every scrape and soon she was arching against him. His cock rested on her stomach, trapped between them, and she loved feeling the hard evidence of his arousal.

His head dipped to her breasts, still confined by her bra. She expected him to take it off, but instead, he ran his tongue over the swell of her right breast, dipping just slightly under the bra cup. Then he pushed the cup down and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Amelia nearly arched off of the bed. “Oh, my God!”

She hadn’t had sex before, but she’d had a few close encounters. None of them had ever done this. Ethan’s mouth was relentless, sucking until her nipple was hard and puckered, then nipping the sensitive peak sharply, making her cry out again.

When he finally flicked the front clasp of her bra open, she was writhing under him. “Feeling a little more ready now?” he asked, his interesting, slightly southern accent deeper now.

“Yes!” she said quickly. Her nipples were aching from his rough and delicious attention and she was soaking wet between her legs. She’d never been this ready in her life.

“Too bad,” he said lazily. “I’m not.”

She moaned when moved back up her body, kissing her until her lips were as swollen as her nipples. “Ethan,” she gasped. “Please!”

Her pussy felt empty, aching, and her clit was pulsing with each heartbeat. She’d never been so close to an orgasm without rubbing it before. She desperately wanted to touch it, but she didn’t know if she should.

“Please?” he asked roughly. “Please what, Amelia?”

“I want to feel you inside me,” she said, throwing discretion to the wind. “I’m ready now. I need you!”

Amelia felt him reach down and braced herself to be filled. Instead, he gripped his thick cock and began rubbing her swollen clit with the head. Her own head fell back against the pillows, her hands fisting in the sheets. He was hard as steel, but he was so smooth at the same time. He ran his cock lower, gathering moisture from her entrance, spreading it back up.

Her back arched the second time he did that and the head of his cock was momentarily gloved in her heat. They both froze. Then her hips arched again, gripping the slick head, slowly, slowly, taking him in. Ethan was holding himself still, letting her take him at her own pace. Amelia bit her lip as she felt herself stretch to accommodate those nine inches. It was such an odd feeling, that hard smoothness.

His broad shoulders rose and fell quickly as she worked him inside. She’d only managed a few inches.

“Rub yourself,” he said when she didn’t take any more of him, content just to work her hips on the head and few inches of shaft she’d managed. “That’ll make it easier.”

Amelia hesitantly lowered her hand to her pussy. She’d wished she could have done this earlier, but now she was a little embarrassed. She’d certainly never touched herself in front of anyone before.

“Play with it,” Ethan said. “It’s only fair. You’re killing me, so tease yourself.”

She dipped her hand down to her slit, feeling it stretched wide around his insistent hardness, and gathered some of her own wetness. Then she began to stroke her clit slowly. His cock pulsed inside her at the sight, and she gasped. Her body reacted on its own, her hips jerking up, another inch of him sliding inside. He groaned roughly as she rubbed herself more quickly.

Another inch and she felt a flash of pain. Not a virgin. Not anymore. And it had been her own choice. Abandoning herself to whatever came of this, Amelia arched up, taking the rest of him deep in one movement. It hurt, but not as much as she’d feared. It felt...right.

Ethan reached down and yanked her up, pulling her into his lap without letting himself slide out. Amelia gasped. He was so deep inside her and she could feel every inch.

“God, you’re tight,” Ethan said, his voice warm against her skin as his hand skimmed down between them, pushing hers out of the way and taking over.

He curved his fingers on her hip and teased her eager clit with his thumb, rubbing in circles until she began to move on him again, bouncing on his cock like she’d been born to do it. Amelia felt his free hand tangle in her hair and then he tugged her head back. Not hard enough to be painful, but firm enough to be perfect.

His lips found the hollow of her throat and she moaned. There were almost too many sensations for her to handle. She rode him slowly at first, then faster, then slowly again, drawing out every moment of this.

She loved the way it felt when she rolled her hips, feeling him hit every pleasure point she possessed. His firm jaw was tight and she kissed her way along it, moving languidly, loving how deep he was, how big he was, how he was hers just for this moment.

His free hand moved down and he gripped her ass again. She saw him catch his breath. Struggling not to come? Was she really pleasing him as much as he was pleasing her? The thought sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through her and she began to move faster again, letting him slide in and out of wetness, loving how slick he’d become. She was growing closer and closer and she had no idea how to go over the edge with him wedged that deep, or how it would feel if she did. Her body was starting to tremble and his light touches were starting to feel like torture.

“You’ve gotta come for me, baby,” Ethan said, sounding nearly desperate.

“Rub me harder,” she gasped, working herself up and down frantically now. “I’m...I think I’m close!”

Ethan did as she’d asked, rubbing her swollen clit almost roughly and, to her shock, she came at once. She tried to hold back her scream, but coming with him buried deep in the center of her was too good and she cried out again and again. Her pussy spasmed around him, filled for the first time ever. It was amazing, having something for her body to clench around.

As swiftly as he’d pulled her into his lap, he pushed her back down onto the bed, covering her body with his, just as she’d imagined. He braced himself over her and thrust brutally, making her breasts bounce and her breath catch. Her orgasm ramped up all over again and she dug her fingernails into his back, holding on for the ride as she’d promised.

“I can feel you coming,” he said, his voice hardly more than a growl. “Didn’t know you could get tighter. God, Amelia...I’m gonna come now. I’m gonna...” The sentence ended in a groan.

She felt his heat flood through her. She hadn’t known that she’d be able to actually feel him come, but she felt the jets as he muffled a yell against the side of her neck. She arched into them, loving every one. She had given him as much pleasure as he’d given her!

“Goddamn,” Ethan groaned after the bulk of the pleasure had subsided, leaving him able to string a few words together. He started to move, but she held on, keeping him inside her, over her. “Baby, I don’t want to crush you.”

“I like having you over me,” Amelia said.

She wasn’t ready to have to leave, even if she had been sure her legs would hold her. Ethan kissed the side of her neck and she twined her fingers through his hair. It was damp with sweat now, but she didn’t care. She didn’t let him go until his muscles started to shake with the strain of holding himself up.

He collapsed onto his back and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Bathroom’s just down the hall,” he said. “You can get cleaned up if you want.”

So, that was it. Amelia slid out of the bed and went down the hall. It was what she’d expected. No, it was more than that. It was what she’dwanted. People didn’t cuddle after one night stands. But he had felt so good against her. She felt cold without his heat.

She looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink. His stubble had reddened her skin, especially on her neck and chest. Her lips were still swollen from their kisses, and her hair was a wild tangle. She looked like a thoroughly pleasured woman. She wondered if she’d ever look like this again. She didn’t exactly see Anthony as the type to watch her play with herself while he moved inside her. Her cheeks heated at the memory.

She wished she’d brought her clothes into the bathroom with her, so she could just leave from here. He clearly wanted her gone and she told herself that was what she wanted, too. But she hadn’t been thinking clearly, so she’d have to go back into his bedroom once more. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked back down the hall.

“There you are,” Ethan said, a lazy smile tilting his lips as he caught her around the waist and tugged her down into the sheets with him. “Thought you might have gotten lost.”

Amelia was too surprised to reply. This was so far from what she’d expected that she didn’t even know what to say. He didn’t want her to leave?

Well then, she’d take all she could get. Amelia snuggled against Ethan, her body relaxing once more as she breathed in his scent. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, smoothing it with each stroke. It was as relaxing as being petted.

“Youare good at a lot of things,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She was relieved. “You are, too.” She traced one of the tattoos on his arm. “I really do like your artwork.”

“Thanks. I’ve been working on ‘em for about five years now. They’re finally just about what I want.”

“I noticed you have kind of a theme,” she said, propping on one elbow and looking at him. “Bikes, women, and America.”

Ethan laughed. “That’s about it.”

Amelia walked her fingers down his left arm. “Why is this the patriotic side?”

“The other side already had a few crappy bike tattoos on it,” Ethan answered honestly. “I had ‘em covered up as soon as I could,” he went on when she leaned down to squint at his right arm. “And no, I’m not gonna tell you what they were.”

“Are you a soldier?” It struck her as odd to be having this conversationafter she’d given him her virginity, but she was genuinely curious about this man.

“Did a stint in the Army,” he said. “Mechanic. In for a little more than five years. My dad was Army, too, and so was his dad.”

“Is that why you did it?” He didn’t really seem like the type of man who did something just because it was expected of him.

“I did it because it felt right,” he said. “And it was better than hanging around with my thumb up my...better than doing nothing,” he corrected himself, making her giggle.

“It must be nice to know what feels right,” Amelia said wistfully, forgetting herself for a moment. She felt so damn close to him, closer than she’d meant to.

To her surprise, he cupped her cheek and turned her toward him. “You feel pretty damn right to me, Amelia.” He pulled her down for a kiss, taking his time with her mouth, running one hand down her bare back. She gave in to both the kiss and to the desire to curl up beside him and sleep.

# # #

The early morning sun dawned right into Amelia’s face. She put one hand over her eyes, trying to figure out why it was so bright. Her bedroom faced west, so she usually slept much later than this with no problem. Then it hit her. She wasn’t at home.

Ethan was lying on his side and his arm was still around her, resting just under her breasts. He was clearly sound asleep. She eased out of his grip and sat up, wincing slightly. She wasn’t as sore as she’d thought she would be, but she was sore in more places than she’d expected. Sex was quite the workout, it seemed.

Amelia pulled her dress on carefully, trying not to wake him as she stood. Her heart nearly stopped when he rolled over, murmuring low in his throat. Last night had been amazing, but she didn’t nurse any delusions about it. He’d be glad to see her go. No one liked an awkward morning after.

She also wasn’t looking to get cut off by her father. Now that it was over, the reality of how furious her father would be was sinking in. She had to go. No matter how hot Ethan was. Or how right it had felt to have him moving inside her, or holding her afterwards. Her body went hot at the memories, so she shoved them away.

No. No attachments. Even if the thought of leaving was physically painful. He was even more handsome in the early light of day. As she pulled on her shoes, Amelia realized she still didn’t know exactly what color those dark eyes were.

She stood there for a moment, giving in, hoping he’d wake up. He didn’t. She left as quietly as she could.

Chapter 7

Ethan

Ethan woke up feeling more relaxed than he’d felt in weeks. He stretched out his arm for Amelia, but he only found empty sheets beside him. He propped up on one elbow and listened. There was no sound from the bathroom or the kitchen. He frowned, sitting up. Had she gone outside?

He pulled his jeans on and walked through his small house quickly. She wasn’t there. First woman he’d ever brought back to his own place and she’d ditched before breakfast. But why? She’d fallen asleep in his arms and he...hadn’t minded. He’d had a fair amount of sex in his thirty years, but he’d never actually slept with anyone. He’d also never slept as well as he had with her sharing his bed.

He glanced around the kitchen hopefully, but there was no note. He didn’t even know her full name. Just Amelia. How many Amelia’s would there be in the surrounding area? Was he even sure that she was from here? The answer was a depressing no.

Ethan started the coffee maker and walked back to the bedroom, contemplating how little he knew about the woman who had thoroughly rocked his world last night. He didn’t know her last name, didn’t know where she was from, didn’t have any idea why she’d left without saying goodbye...he stopped suddenly, staring at the sheets.

He flicked the top one back. He knew one thing about her now that he hadn’t known before. She’d been a virgin. There wasn’t much blood, but it was enough.

Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed, even more confused. That would explain the determination he’d seen on her face when she’d walked into the bar. It would also explain why she’d taken him so slowly in the beginning, a memory that had him stiffening at the mere recollection. But why?

Why the hell had she picked some seedy biker bar if she was planning to lose her virginity? God knew what kind of person she could have picked up. If he hadn’t been there, would she have gone home with one of the other guys?

Probably not Michael; she’d seemed repulsed by him. But maybe Jimmy or Kenny. Or Ryan. He never had a problem finding a woman. It felt surprisingly like both a near miss and a gift. He’d been the one to take her back to his place. He’d been the one she trusted. It felt like an honor. One he wanted to revisit, if possible.

He rubbed his hand over his chin, feeling his two days’ growth beard and thinking abstractedly that he needed to shave. He’d probably roughed her up a little bit. Kissed her too hard. Fucked her too hard.

He couldn’t regret it, though. And he had a feeling she didn’t either. He might not know why she’d left, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t because she’d hated last night. She’d slept in his arms. She’d smiled at him. They’d talked. Even without him taking her virginity, it had been a different kind of one nighter. Maybe it didn’t even have to be one. Sure, there might be a lot of Amelias, but this was the age of the internet. He could probably find her.

Should he find her, though? Ethan stopped. They were obviously pretty different people. He wasn’t rich. Hell, he wasn’t even middle class.

Maybe what she’d wanted was a night of slumming it. She might have gotten all she’d wanted from him. He turned the idea over in his mind and then shook his head. It didn’t ring true. He’d felt her relief when he’d pulled her back into bed with him. She’d wanted to stay.

So, that was decided. He’d find her and see where it went. With his mind at ease on the subject of Amelia, he pulled out his phone and called Kenny.

“Hey,” he said when his Vice President picked up. “You know that meeting we were supposed to have at the bar?”

“Yeah,” Kenny said, sounding mildly amused.

“Let’s do that at HQ today. Whatever the guys have got going on, tell ‘em to cancel it. I’m making this one mandatory.” He didn’t do that a lot because he knew the other officers had lives, but they really did need to get a plan in action about State Representative Stratton.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll round up the guys.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, knowing he could leave it in Kenny’s hands and it would happen. “I’ll see you--”

“Hey, hang on. Who the hell was that girl you left with? She was--”

Ethan discovered that he didn’t want Kenny to finish the sentence. “Her name’s Amelia. See you later.” He hung up, half amused by his own protectiveness, half worried he was falling for a shadow.

# # #

The day at the mechanic’s shop he worked for had been long. He wasn’t even supposed to be there on a Saturday, but there was the usual summer backlog. People wanted to make sure their cars would run as they escaped the desert heat. He couldn’t blame them, but his back was aching and he was sick of the paperwork that came along with supervising the shift. And he still hadn’t been able to get Amelia off his mind, even while he was trying to think of ways to take Stratton down.

Ethan clocked out and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Maybe he could start tracking her down. Then he noticed the time. He’d worked through lunch and now he had to get to HQ or William would have his balls on a plate. He’d have to do it when he got home. Swearing, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and headed to his meeting.

Everyone else was already there when he walked in. He’d known Kenny could handle the typical scheduling issues without breaking a sweat.

“’Bout time,” William said, exhaling smoke.

“There was a pileup at the four way stop,” Ethan replied, going to the mini fridge and pulling out a beer. He didn’t speak again until he’d downed a few cold swigs. “Slowed things down more than usual. God, it’s hot as fuck out there.”

“So, what’s the big plan?” Kenny asked over the general chatter that rose about the heat. He was always the one to shepherd them back to the business at hand.

Ethan put his beer down and leaned back against the desk. “Charity. Charity is the big plan.”

“Charity?” Ryan repeated with a grin. “You mean like that girl who took you home last night? That kind of charity?”

Ethan reached over and smacked the road captain in the back of the head. “Actually it’s more like the poor girl who had to spend the night talking to you.”

“Settle it down and get to the point,” William said evenly. “What kinda charity?”

“We’ve got a few good options,” Ethan said. “But I thought we could do--”

He was interrupted when the door banged open, the glass pane shivering as the frame smacked against the inner wall. Ethan thought for a second it was going to shatter. They didn’t have the money to deal with repairs right then.

Then his attention was drawn to the person who’d flung the door open in the first place. He didn’t look at all like the kind of man to come bursting into a motorcycle club. His suit was charcoal gray and tailored to a perfect fit and everything about him screamed money.

“Ethan Billings!”

Ethan raised his eyebrows. Holy shit, the guy was looking for him? He doubted he’d won the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. The trouble was, he had no idea what he’d done to piss someone off that badly either.

“Yeah?” he asked, keeping his voice low and his tone neutral. The guy’s face was red with anger and Ethan wasn’t looking to add fuel to the fire until he knew exactly what the man’s problem was.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” the man demanded, his strong voice shaking with fury.

“I do a lot,” Ethan answered, not about to admit to anything that vague. “I’m gonna need some specifics.”

“Fuck, you’re Gregory Stratton, aren’t you?” Kenny suddenly blurted out.

“What?” the man demanded, turning to look at Kenny who had gotten to his feet. “Yes, I am.”

Kenny just looked at Ethan, who felt a little stunned. He’d spent all day thinking of how to show this guy up, to prove that not all motorcycle clubs were biker gangs...and now he was here? Here and more than a little pissed off. The trouble was, Ethan still had no idea why. He’d never had anything to do with the man before. Unless the guy was a mind reader, he had no reason to be so pissed off with Ethan.

“You took my daughter home last night,” Stratton shouted.

William snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m sure your little princess is hangin’ out in every biker bar from here to the strip.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Stratton informed the Sergeant at Arms.

Ethan had a sinking feeling in his gut. There was no way. It couldn’t be. Right? She had looked like she had money. But why in God’s name would Stratton’s daughter be looking for a biker? Unless she really wanted to piss her father off. Shit.

“Look, I don’t even know your daughter,” he said, trying to sound firm and praying like hell that he wasn’t lying.

Stratton pulled a photo from his pocket and the beautiful strawberry blonde from last night smiled out at him. “Amelia Stratton! Or have you already forgotten her?”

William stared at the picture for a second and, when he recognized the woman in it, he turned to Ethan with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You didn’t think that maybe--” he cut himself off, clearly furious, but knowing damn good and well that they didn’t need to be discussing this in front of an outsider. Even if he was the State Rep. He stood up and walked over toward the door.

“You need to get going,” William informed Gregory Stratton.

Stratton stood his ground, giving William a disgusted look. “I’ll leave when he’s answered my questions. What did you...what did you do with her?”

Ethan crossed his arms, amazed that the guy thought he had the right to ask that. What the hell kind of question was it anyway?  Did he want Ethan to name positions? Or was there a reason Amelia had been a virgin up until last night? Maybe her father saw her as more valuable that way. The thought made him feel sick. “She’s a grown woman and that’s none of your damn business.”

Stratton looked like he was choking on things he wanted to say. He settled for an ultimatum. “You won’t ever see my daughter again. Do you understand me? If I get so much of a hint of you going anywhere near her, I’ll use the full extent of my authority to--”

“To do what?” Ryan cut in, his voice dry. “Shut us down? I’m pretty sure you’re already doing your damnedest to do that, aren’t you?”

Stratton looked around, seeming to finally see the group of men in the room and realize he was outnumbered. Outnumbered by a group of men he’d vilified to anyone who would listen. William was still standing, looking more furious by the minute. Ryan and Taylor had stepped up to flank the older man. Kenny and Jimmy stayed where they were, but they were watching the drama unfold with narrow gazes, clearly ready to step in if they saw the need. Stratton stepped back, wrenching open the door once more.

“I’m warning you,” he hissed. “Stay away from her, or this will get much worse.”

The door slammed and after a few moments they heard a car pull away. Ethan forced his body to relax. He’d gone so tense that every muscle hurt now. William stared at him.

“Are youkidding me? Fucking the State Representative’s daughter? What in God’s name were you thinking?”

Ethan’s temper, already pushed to the limits by a long day and then strained even more by Stratton, boiled over. “What the fuck do you want me to do?” he demanded. “Start checking I.D.? How was I supposed to know she was his daughter?”

“Maybe by her goddamned name?” William yelled. “Or did you not pay attention when we were talking to you about it yesterday?”

“Obviously, I did! I didn’t get her last name, okay? I didn’t ask!”

William snorted derisively. “Good plan.”

“Like you’ve never had a one night stand,” Ethan growled.

“Hell yeah I have! I can tell you this, though, none of ‘em looked that much like money!” William shouted. “You didn’t think something was a little off about her? Swaggering in like she owned the goddamn place? Fucking us over like any rich bitch--”

Ethan took a quick step forward. “Don’t call her that.”

“Jesus,” William snarled. “What are you gonna tell me now? That you’re gonna see her again?”

“No, I’m not going to see her again!” Ethan said, every word a pain in his chest. “I’m gonna do what’s best for this place and let her go.”

“Be the first time you have.”

“That’s enough,” Kenny said when Ethan’s fists clenched again. “This isn’t doing anybody any good. Let it go, William”

William rounded on the vice president, but Kenny didn’t back down. He didn’t even look confrontational.

“Ethan?” Jimmy asked and his voice also calm, cutting through the tension in the room and letting it dissipate into the air. “You were saying something before?”

“What?” Ethan demanded, pushing his hands through his hair and trying to breathe properly. For some reason, all he could think of at the moment was that he finally knew her full name. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Your charity thing?” Jimmy went on smoothly. “Looks like we’re really going to need it now. Clue us in, tell us the big plan.”

Ethan glanced around. William had pulled out a new pack of cigarettes and he still looked furious, but everyone else was listening. He shoved Amelia Stratton’s memory out of his mind with an effort and said, “I was thinking a drive to raise money for a good cause.”

“And how the hell is that gonna help us?” William demanded.

“It’ll make us look good,” Ethan snapped back at him. “Change our reputation, prove to people that we aren’t lawbreaking assholes. I guess you can just stay home.”

Ryan laughed, easing the tension in the room even more. “Yeah, that’d probably be for the best, man. We don’t want your face to scare anyone off.”

William flipped the road captain off and Jimmy reached over and pulled a legal pad off of the cluttered desk. “Okay, tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, pen poised over a clean sheet of paper.

“We need a charity that actually donates everything to the people who need it,” Ethan said. “None of this 5% bullshit.”

Jimmy nodded and made a note. “I’ll do some fact checking tonight. What kind of charities are we thinking?”

“Women’s shelters,” Taylor suggested.

“Or we could do something with a soup kitchen,” Ryan added.

“I was thinking something for veterans,” Ethan said. “Start with those three and see what we can do. It’s short notice, so it might limit things.”

“I can do that. Might be good to have some stuff for kids to do,” the secretary added. “I could bring the rugrats if we pick one of my weekends.” As it always did, his businesslike expression softened just slightly when he talked about his daughters.

“Good idea,” Taylor said. “Part of that ‘we’re not monsters’ thing.”

“Maybe some of those things kids can jump in,” William said gruffly, lighting another cigarette. “Kids fuckin’ love those.”

Ethan nodded at William, feeling a little more civil to the Sergeant at Arms now. “That’s a good idea.”

Jimmy continued to scribble ideas hurriedly as the rest of the officers tossed them out. “Okay,” he said when the spate of ideas ran dry and he had two and a half pages of notes. “The gist is that we want food trucks, somebody who can do balloon animals or face painting, bounce houses, and games. Anybody got anything else?”

“A membership booth,” Ethan said.

“Good idea,” Ryan agreed. “Get ‘em interested and then get ‘em signed up on the spot.”

“No,” Ethan corrected and the rest of the group looked at him in surprise. “Get them interested, yeah. But the thing is, we want ‘em to come to us after the drive is over. This can’t look like we’re trying to add members. It needs to look like what it is. A nice, non-criminal thing to do to help people who need it.”

“Yeah, needy people like us,” Taylor said with a grin. “I like the sound of all of it.” He stood up. “I gotta hit the road. Told Penelope I’d be home for supper.” He smacked Jimmy on the back. “Just let me know when you get some decent numbers and I’ll figure out the money.”

Ethan watched his treasurer walk away. William followed him out without speaking and Ethan knew that, even though he’d contributed some ideas and was willing to play along with the charity thing, the other man was still angry with him. He also knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He wasn’t feeling cheery with William either, but he figured it would smooth itself out. It always did when they butted heads.

After he’d wrapped up a few loose ends, Ethan gave Jimmy, Ryan, and Kenny a distracted goodbye and left them drinking and planning. All he really wanted was food and the coldest shower he could stand. And Amelia.

Had she done it on purpose? To make her father even angrier with bikers? If so, it was completely unnecessary, but apparently damn effective. Or had she done it to get back at her father? That seemed more likely, given how determined she’d been. And given how her father barged into The Angel’s Keepers demanding the details of his daughter’s sex life. Ethan might not have checked her I.D., but he knew damn good and well that she’d been above the age of consent, which was a big part of why he’d refused to answer. It was, plain and simple, none of Gregory Stratton’s business who or what his daughter did in bed.

Ethan sighed in frustration. All he had were more questions and no possible way of finding answers. Not with such a tight timeline to try and save his motorcycle club. Or, if he couldn’t save it, at least repair the damage he’d done by taking Amelia Stratton to bed with him.

Chapter 8

Amelia

Amelia looked up from the television show that she wasn’t paying any attention to when she heard the front door slam closed. Her heart began to pound with fear. She was supposed to be the only one home. She wondered if she could get to her phone quickly enough if it turned out to be a homicidal maniac.

When her father appeared in the living room, she was relieved, but only for a moment. His face was red with anger and his usually immaculate hair was disarranged. His suit was wrinkled and his hands were clenched.

“Dad, what’s--”

“Where were you last night?” he demanded, cutting her off.

Amelia felt the blood drain from her head. How could he have known? It just wasn’t possible! “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice wavering. “I was right here.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Her father walked into the room and threw a picture down. Amelia saw herself in the parking lot of The Hole, her arms around Ethan. He was holding her tightly, one hand clasping the back of her neck and the other at the small of her back. Seeing it again made her whole body respond to the memory of the heat of his mouth and the firm muscles of his chest.

We look like we fit. Amelia shook the thought from her head. It wasn’t exactly the most important part. Suddenly she realized exactly what it meant for her father to have this picture. “Did you have me followed?”

“You promised me you were going to shape up,” Gregory said, his voice ragged with anger. “You said you--”

“Did you have me followed?” she asked again, her voice rising frantically, trying to hide the fact that she was shaking. This was the first time she’d been honestly afraid since the issues between her and her father had begun.

“Yes!” He spat out “I did. To keep you safe!”

“Taking dirty pictures of me is keeping mesafe?” Her stomach turned. Had she ever felt so completely violated before? “How could you do this?”

“How could you?” Gregory demanded, looking back at the picture with derision. “Do you know who he is?What he is?”

“I...”No. The look her father fixed on her made her feel very dirty all of a sudden. She resented the feeling. What she’d done with Ethan wasn’t wrong. Her body was hers, damn it, and she could do what she wanted with it. At least for one night. She forced a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s the leader of a biker gang,” Gregory said. “It’s called The Angel’s Keepers. Don’t you know what biker gangs do, Amelia?”

She shook her head. She hadn’t thought to ask him what he did. She hadn’t cared as long as one of the things was her.

“They run drugs! They hurt people! They’re responsible for over half of the sex trafficking in Nevada!”

Amelia stared at her father. None of that even made sense. “That’s a lot of stuff for one group,” she said, trying to sound sarcastic. “The Angel’s Keepers must be a busy place.”

“Don’t be deliberately stupid!” he ordered, pointing his index finger in her face. “They’re all in it together. What do you think those rides are for? Why do you think they have meetings and headquarters?”

“Where did you even hear this?” she asked, shaken by his anger, but not cowed by what seemed to be insanely biased statistics.

“I heard it from people who give a damn about my campaign,” Gregory snarled. “The only serious financial backers I have!”

“What about Lauren Dorfman’s father? What about the Governor? What about-”

“Don’t contradict me, Amelia May!”

Amelia caught her breath, feeling lightheaded. “Stop shouting at me.”

“Stop whoring yourself out to gang members! I know you spent the night with him!”

Her mouth dropped open. Even Gregory seemed surprised at what he’d said.

“I am not a whore,” Amelia said, her voice shaking. “Don’tevercall me that again.”

“I...” But his temper overtook his remorse. “I told you I’d cut you off and I--”

“You can’t,” Amelia said coolly. “Not unless you want me to give Ethan a call. Ride off into the sunset with my gangster and spend the rest of my days spilling your dirty little political secrets.”

It was her father’s turn to be shocked. She hadn't even known whether or not her father had dirty secrets, but his sudden silence wasn’t encouraging. Amelia went on before she lost her nerve.

“I’m willing to play by your rules,” she said. “Date the men you want me to date. Be the respectable little daughter in public. But youwillrespect what I’m giving up for your campaign, or I’mdone.”

“Fine,” Gregory said, breathing hard, clearly trying to calm down. “As long as you behave properly, we won’t have a problem.”

“And I don’t want anyone following me anymore. That’s too far and you know it.”

“Maybe you should just stay home unless you have a proper chaperone,” he said and she resisted the urge to throw something.

“Perhaps you could make me a list,” Amelia said between clenched teeth. Wasn’t she already giving up enough? Now she had to have a chaperone? “I’m going to assume Ethan is off limits.”

“He already knows,” Gregory said, sweeping the picture off of the coffee table and ripping it in two. He finally looked in control again. “I stopped by and told him what I’d do if I saw the two of you together again. If he wants to hang onto his little club until the end of the year, he’ll listen.”

Her father tossed the shreds of the picture into the small wastepaper basket by the door and walked out of the room without a backward glance. Amelia dropped down onto the couch, her heart sinking down to the pit of her stomach. Her father had talked to Ethan? She could only imagine how that conversation had gone. Ethan didn’t look like a man who would willingly take orders. Maybe he’d show up just to prove a point.

Her traitorous heart pounded at the thought. No. He probably wished he’d never gotten involved with her. And she couldn’t blame him. In retrospect, it had been insane to drag him into this.

Amelia covered her face with both hands as hot tears burned in her eyes. Her father claimed to pay her way, she was suddenly fully aware that she was selling herself, piece by bloody piece.

Chapter 9

Ethan

Ethan stared down at the stack of papers on the desk and wished he didn’t have to look through it all again. The sun was setting and heat was pouring into the window above him, making it impossible to actually cool the room down to a comfortable temperature. His eyes felt like they were full of sand. He’d been up since five in the morning, putting in overtime at the repair shop. The heat wasn’t helping his exhaustion, but it was more than that. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since...well, since he’d woken up and found Amelia gone. He pushed the thought away, sitting up straighter in his chair, determined to be businesslike. There were more important things in the world than Amelia Stratton. Even if it didn’t feel like it.

This paperwork had to be right. He couldn’t afford any mistakes, not with Stratton breathing down his neck. The State Representative had been oddly silent in the news since he’d stomped into the headquarters shouting at Ethan for taking Amelia home with him. Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to brace for impact. Something was in the air and it wasn’t just the shimmer of late summer.

He rested his head on his hand. Memories of Amelia kept bubbling up. The way she’d looked in that dress, sexy and determined. The way she’d looked in his bed, abandoned and yet somehow shy at the same time. The way she’d looked afterward, happy that he wanted more than just the sex. And he had. That was what really made this hell. He’d wanted more than just her body.

Apparently, all she’d wanted out of it was a way to make her father angry. Ethan didn’t appreciate being in the middle of that relationship. That was why he was working himself stupid, both at the shop and at the headquarters. He hadn’t touched the Flathead in three weeks, even though some of the parts he’d been missing had come in. Jimmy, who was the undisputed king of organization and motivation, had been unable to keep up with Ethan’s demands for the upcoming event.

The minute the ink was dry on the permits, Ethan had been promoting the charity drive. The officers had motivated the patch members and the patch members had talks with the few pledges that were left. Soon the town was covered in flyers. Ethan had been pleased to hear a few people talking about it while they were out and about.

They’d ended up with the cause he’d suggested and he knew he’d picked a good one. Not just for PR either. It made him feel good to be able to say that all the profits were going to go to wounded and homeless veterans. It also helped a bit financially and he wasn’t going to ignore that. When he talked to the rental companies they were going to be dealing with, most of them agreed to a reduced rate, which helped him a lot since they were stretching the budget as thin as possible. Maybe even thinner. This would take almost every dime they had, even with reduced rates.

Thankfully, the rest of the club agreed that this was pretty much a last-ditch effort to stand in the face of Stratton’s rules. Ethan didn’t like the all or nothing feeling. It made him nervous to think of what might happen if their gamble didn’t pay off. What if Stratton’s propaganda had spread too far already?

Ethan’s dad, Marcus Billings, had founded The Angel’s Keepers in the early ’90s and it had gone strong until Marcus got sick. Somehow, despite Ethan’s best efforts, it hadn’t been the same since Marcus died.

He leaned back in his chair once he’d been over every word of the papers. Every ‘I’ was dotted and every ‘T’ crossed. There was nothing Stratton could legally do to block them. Ethan’s cell phone rang, disturbing the quiet of the small office and taking him by surprise, shaking him out of his reverie. He answered the call without checking the screen. He was still organizing a lot of things for tomorrow's event and Kenny had promised to call later.

“Yeah?” he asked, bundling the permits and documents in the order he was going to need them tomorrow morning. No missteps allowed; he was going to get this right.

“Is this Ethan Billings?”

The woman’s voice on the other end of the line caught him by surprise. Was it-

“This is Marta Waters, from News 6.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat as his heart rate slowed down. He should have realized right away that the woman on the other end of the line wasn’t Amelia. Amelia’s voice was a little softer, but a little sultrier, as well. “Right, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I’d like to apologize, as well, and let you know I just got your message.”

It had been Kenny’s idea to get some news coverage, and Ryan had managed to secure a newspaper reporter. None of them had had any luck with television news sources, though. Ethan hadn’t really expected anything different. It was probably small potatoes.

“I would bevery interested in covering this event,” she went on.

“Really?” he asked, nearly dropping his pen.

“Absolutely!” she assured him. “Of course, I would expect comments on Gregory Stratton’s new, restrictive proposals.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of those,” Ethan said grimly. “Since we’re talking expectations, I’ll be honest. I’d expect you to talk us up. We’re doing a good thing for a good reason here, and I want everyone watching News 6 to know it.”

“Of course,” Marta said. “You know...my uncle was in a motorcycle club. He was also a cop. He’s not thrilled with the way Representative Stratton is making you all look.”

Ethan grinned. “Glad to hear I’m not the only one who’s getting pissed off.”

“No, you’re not. The difference is that youare the only one who seems to be willing to take Stratton on.”

“Hey, this is just a charity drive,” Ethan said easily.

“Right,” she answered and he could hear the smile in her voice. “A simple charity drive. Right over Gregory Stratton’s toes.”

Ethan couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Okay, there might be a few ulterior motives, but they aren’t the whole point. Sounds like you’re looking forward to tomorrow just as much as I am.”

He could hear a smile in the reporter’s voice as she said, “Trust me, I am. See you there.”

“Sounds good.” He hung up and pulled up the news channel site on his phone. He didn’t really follow the news that closely, and he wanted to be able to recognize her tomorrow.

Marta Waters smiled out at him from her place on the page and he raised his eyebrows. Recognizing her shouldn’t be a problem. That was one pretty news reporter. She had bright straw blonde hair and a great smile. She seemed smart and career driven, too. She might be Jimmy or Kenny’s type. He’d have to see if he could get them into a conversation together.

Ethan sat back in his chair, stunned at himself. Was hematchmaking? He really needed to get Amelia out of his head, because Marta Waters was exactly the sort of woman he should have been interested in. A nice smile, a desire to stick it to the man, and what looked like a great body...heshould have been thinking about her. Not a woman who’d used him to make daddy jealous.

So, if he knew that...then why the hell couldn’t he forget her? He locked up the headquarters and headed home. At least he was exhausted enough to sleep without dreaming of Amelia’s innocent green eyes and the wicked way she’d learned to move.

# # #

“Cool! A bounce house!”

Ethan barely managed to catch Jimmy’s younger daughter as she barreled for the red, blue, and yellow castle that was being inflated slowly.

“Give it some time, Daisy,” he said, putting the five-year old’s feet back on the ground once he felt she wasn’t going to run for the inflatable again. “It’s not ready yet.”

“Come on,” her sister, Hope, said, catching up and giving Ethan a shy smile as he pushed Daisy over to her. “I think we can get some cotton candy now.”

Ethan watched the eight-year-old take her younger sister’s hand and lead her away to where Jimmy stood under the flashing lights of one of the food trucks. The inflatables had been the last thing to arrive and Ethan had never realized just how long they took to inflate.

He was starting to worry that they wouldn’t be up in time. People were going to start trickling in at any moment. Or at least, he hoped so.

William walked up, squinting against the bright morning sun. “What’re you gonna do if nobody shows?”

Could the other man read his mind? “Come on,” Ethan said, trying to sound casual. “What else are they gonna do on a Saturday in this town?”

“Maybe they’re all on vacation.”

Ethan felt himself starting to lose his temper. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“Ain’t no point in sittin’ in the booth if there’s nobody here,” William said.

“Go and practice,” Ethan suggested, turning away.

He’d put William and Ryan in charge of the information booth because, as Sergeant at Arms and Road Captain, they had the answers to everything that the average person was going to want to know. And also because William had flatly refused to help in any other way, despite Ethan’s suggestions that he’d make a hell of a face painter.

Ethan waved Jimmy over and told him to round everyone up for a meeting at the information booth. A few minutes later all his officers, most of his full patch members, and all the pledges they had were gathered around. The club wasn’t nearly as big as it had been, but Ethan didn’t chase that rabbit. That was one of the things that today was going to fix. Hopefully, anyway.

“Okay, everybody listen up!” he called, making sure to speak loudly enough that they could all hear him over the roar of the air pumps. He looked around at the group solemnly. “This is gonna help our reputation and we all know it,” he said honestly. “But if anybody acts like these veterans are just a means to an end, I will personally hunt you down and kick your ass. Then I’ll kick it to the curb and keep your colors.” He looked around; making sure they all knew he was serious. “Most of us know someone who served this country. Everyone that shows up here today has more than earned some respect. Make sure you show it.”

Once the club had dispersed, Ethan heard a voice behind him.

“I like a man who can give a good speech.”

He turned and the blonde held out a hand. “Hi. It’s--”

“Marta Waters,” Ethan said, shaking her hand.

She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Ethan. Thanks for calling.”

“Thanks for showing up. I wasn’t really sure it was meaningful enough to make the news.”

“A biker telling Representative Stratton to eat it via charity drive?” Marta’s blue eyes twinkled. “Totally newsworthy.”

“Yeah, but you’re biased,” he said. “With your bike owning uncle and all.”

“No one will know that once I get started,” she said seriously. “Fair and balanced reporting is the name of my game, so be ready for some pointed questions to come your way, too.”

“I can handle that.”

Marta nodded, eyeing him leisurely and thoroughly. “I believe it. You look like a man who could handle just about anything.”

Chapter 10

Amelia

Amelia put the glass of ginger ale down on the table beside the couch and then grabbed the television remote. She made sure to check her temperature once more before she sat down and she was disappointed to see that it was still normal. So why did she feel like she’d been run over?

She leaned her head back against the soft leather of the couch, but that didn’t ease the dizziness. She slid down so she was curled up on her side, knees drawn to her chest. That only made the nausea worse.

With a sigh of frustration, Amelia reached to the end of the couch and pulled the blanket she’d brought down from her room over her. She wasn’t particularly cold, but it was a very old blanket, left to her by her mother and it always made her feel better. So did the flannel pajama pants, the oversized tee shirt she’d had since high school, and the messy bun she’d fixed in desperation after the third time throwing up that morning. Which would make...she’d actually lost count of how many times she’d been sick in the past few weeks.

She had a date with Anthony tonight at eight o’clock and she wanted to rest for as long as she could before she had to get ready. They’d been seeing each other a few times a week for the month and a half that her father had basically had her under lock and key. None of the dates had been memorable and she wasn’t looking forward to this one either. Especially not when all she wanted to do was cuddle up under her blanket and think about Ethan. In her favorite daydream, he rode up on his shiny blue bike and took her away from it all, telling her that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her.

Because men loved women whose fathers showed up to yell at them the morning after. With a heavy sigh, Amelia turned the television on and began flicking through the channels, looking for something that would catch her interest. If there was any hope of being happy in the future, she had to stop thinking about Ethan. All it did was make every date with Anthony worse.

The remote fell from her fingers and she actually gasped when the local news channel came on. Ethan filled the screen, as big as life and even more handsome than she remembered him. He was squinting into the bright sun and looking down at the reporter with a smile.

“So, what made you decide to do this event?” the reporter asked, looking up at him and holding the microphone over for him.

That was Marta Waters. Amelia had seen her at a few events in the political arena. What was she interviewing Ethan for?

“I come from a long line of military guys,” he said. “So it’s familiar to me. I knew more about what they’d need.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted when he spoke. Had she really thought she could get over him? Had she forgotten how low and rough that voice was? The trace of a southern accent still made her heart jump.

“Since I knew what they needed, I thought it would be a good idea to give back to the soldiers who gave up a lot for us. Going through the system for benefits can take time. We’re working with an organization that bridges that gap. Every dollar we raise today goes straight to help vets in need, no fines, no fees. Just help for people who need it.”

“And none of it is to address State Representative Stratton’s view that motorcycle clubs are glorified gangs?” Marta asked, watching him closely.

Ethan grinned. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to get his attention.”

Marta was quick to take the chance. “And what would you say to Representative Stratton if you knew that he was watching?”

Ethan paused for a moment, and then looked directly into the camera. “That there’s more to a person than what they’re interested in. Most motorcycle clubs are good places with good people who just like bikes. I’d also say thank you, I guess.”

“Thank you?” Marta repeated. “That’s an odd stance, given his tax increases on clubs like yours.”

“Yeah, but without it, I’d probably up to my elbows in grease in my garage today.” He glanced around. “Instead, I get to see our community turn out to support a great cause. That’s my secretary over there with his daughters. That’s my treasurer trying to win his girl a stuffed animal and sucking at it.” He gave Marta another grin, this one positively mischievous. “We’re all regular guys. We’re accountants, we’re doctors, lawyers, cops, mechanics.” He shrugged. “And we’re all congregating, which is apparently dangerous in Representative Stratton’s eyes, but I don’t think anyone here feels too scared of the big bad biker guys.”

Marta laughed. “I’d have to agree,” she said as the camera panned away from them and Amelia finally got a good glimpse of the festival. It was extremely crowded despite the heat, teeming with people playing games. Others were eating funnel cakes and cotton candy, there were kids squealing and shrieking with laughter in the bounce houses, and guys in vests with the Angel’s Keepers patches on them talking to veterans.

When the camera swooped back to Ethan and Marta, the reporter said, “So there you have it, Nevada. Come on down to the community park and meet the guys! I hear The Angel’s Keepers is even taking new recruits, in Stratton you’re feeling rebellious enough to do some good today.”

The next story came on, leaving Amelia to stare blankly as the weatherman prattled on. Ethan had looked so good with his vest hugging those broad shoulders. His tee shirt had been white today, showing off his tan to its best advantage and making her feel weaker than she already did.

Had that reporter been flirting with him? Amelia bit her thumbnail. She had. She’d remained professional, but there’d clearly been a bit of attraction.

More importantly, though, had Ethan been flirting back? Even if he had, what claim did she have on him? None. And her father had ruined whatever hold a one-night stand would have offered anyway. Maybe hehad been flirting with the gorgeous Marta Waters, who was blonde and flawless and not in sweatpants.

Clapping her hand over her mouth, Amelia ran for the hall bathroom where she lost the little bit of ginger ale she’d managed to get down. She leaned back against the wall and slid down, resting her head on her knees and fighting the urge to sob.

What the hell was wrong with her? When she wasn’t feeling sick, she was crying. When she wasn’t crying or feeling sick, she was asleep. Her skin was breaking out like she was a teenager again and she had no energy. And, yet, she had no fever, she wasn’t sneezing or coughing. None of it made sense.

# # #

Amelia barely dragged herself off of the couch when her computer gave the Skype alert. She was feeling like a terrible friend on top of everything else, because she’d put Aubrey off the last few times she’d called. She answered the call, determined to be cheerful.

“Hey,” she said, giving the happiest looking smile she could muster.

“Hey,” Aubrey replied. “Can I rant at you for a second?”

“That’s unusual, but sure.” Aubrey was the most positive person Amelia knew, hands down.

“I just...I feel so bad for some of these kids that I counsel!” Aubrey burst out. “What iswrong with sex education in this country? I just had a sixteen-year-old girl in my office who had no idea that she was pregnant! Nausea, weight gain, missing her period, lack of energy...she thought she had the flu! The freaking flu! A friend of hers forced her down to the center to take a test and she freaked out; she was completely terrified. She actually thought she couldn't get pregnant if it was her first time, and I wish to God I’d never heard that before, but I get it all the time!” Aubrey suddenly stopped. “Amelia? Are you okay?”

Amelia cleared her throat and pressed her lips together. Her mouth had been hanging open. “Yes, absolutely. What is she going to do?”

Aubrey sighed heavily. “She hasn’t made a decision yet. I spent most of the time just calming her down.”

Amelia did her best to listen as Aubrey talked and give the appropriate responses, but her mind was racing. Shouldn’t she have had her period last week? No, it should have come the week before that. And she’d been sick for a while now.

In her anger when she was getting ready and nervousness once she was at Ethan’s house, she hadn’t thought of asking him to use a condom. What had she been thinking? She had to find out, and she had to find out as soon as possible.

“Amelia?” Aubrey asked. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tears filled Amelia’s eyes. “No, honestly. But I don’t want to get into it right now. I can’t.”

Aubrey’s face had gone from annoyed with the state of the world and the public education system to concerned for her friend, which made Amelia feel even more like a jerk. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and took a deep breath to avoid letting the tears spill down her cheeks.

“Sorry, Aubrey,” she whispered. “I have to go now.”

“Okay,” Aubrey said slowly. “But I’m here for you. You know that, right? The minute you can talk about it, I expect you call me. No matter what.”

“I will. I...I’m sorry, I have to go.” She had to get to the drugstore and back before her father came home for the day.

# # #

Amelia had barely gotten back home and she was only halfway up the stairs to her bedroom when she heard the front door slam. She quickly checked to make sure that the small box was buried deeply in her purse. Of course, if he’d had her followed again, it wouldn’t matter. He’d know exactly what she’d bought. Heart hammering, she put her purse down on the stairs and walked into the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, but her father was already headed into the living room where he turned on the television with an angry jab of his thumb to the remote.

News 6 popped right up and he gave Amelia a quick glance. She made her face as bland as possible and he turned back to the LCD screen. Marta Waters was behind the anchor desk, looking just as beautiful as she’d looked that morning.

“Our story earlier today featured Ethan Billings, the president of motorcycle club: The Angel’s Keepers. In the current climate, created largely by State Representative Gregory Stratton, most of our viewers might expect this to be a story about trafficking or other crime. However, Ethan Billings set up a charity drive for injured and homeless war veterans and made sure they left with every penny earned, despite Representative Stratton’s new restrictive tax plan putting the squeeze on his and other bikers’ organizations.”

“Sounds like a pretty good guy,” her co-anchor said cheerfully. “It’s a shame Representative Stratton couldn’t be reached for rebuttal.”

“You know,” Marta went on. “Many voters believe he may be getting a little old for the political arena. Things like this may prove him to be even more out of touch with younger voters than ever before. And now for the weather with Ben--”

The television went dark.

“Why can’t they see that this is a publicity stunt?” Stratton demanded. “He doesn’t give a damn about veterans!”

“Yes, he does,” Amelia surprised herself by saying. “He was in the Army.”

Gregory sneered. “He’s not anymore; I checked. Probably a dishonorable discharge. All of these people are criminals.”

“No they’re not! Even cops have motorcycle clubs!”

Gregory looked at her closely and suspiciously. “Why are you looking into them?”

“Whyaren’t you? You’re the one who’s supposed to know!”

“I get my facts from a very reliable source,” he said, his face stony now.

“And who is that? Because, Dad, I am being serious when I say this.” Amelia took a deep breath to steady her voice. Her father had been reasonable in the past...when he was winning elections by landslides. She hadn’t realized that the two were so closely connected. But maybe she could get through to him again. “They seem to be wrong about everything. Motorcycle clubs are perfectly legitimate organizations. They-”

“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Gregory said flatly. “A few hysterical blog posts defending these people isn’t the same thing as actual research. Warren Miller and Richard Brewer have actually done some work, here. They’re the only ones who seem to be willing to put in the time.”

Disgust overtook her logical response and she turned away. She’d put in her share of hours researching this too. It was more than just making sure Ethan wasn’t the horrible person her father painted him to be. She genuinely wanted to help her father make decisions that would make people’s lives better. And she was being brushed off, dismissed, in favor of two men with inflated statistics that fit Gregory’s own prejudices.

“I’ll be upstairs,” she said tiredly.

“Fine. They’re coming over to discuss how we should address this and I expect you to keep a civil tongue if they want to talk to you.”

Of course, it wouldn’t occur to him to ask if she wanted to talk to them. Maybe in the past it would have, but not anymore. Amelia didn’t bother to reply, she just scooped her purse up and walked up the stairs.

“And don’t forget your date with Anthony tonight,” he called at her retreating back.

“How could I?” she asked, suddenly feeling even more exhausted as she remembered that she hadn’t done anything to get ready. Anthony always took her to places where he could see and be seen. She’d probably need to do better than yoga pants and a messy bun. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll stay out of your way and go on my date like a good girl.”

After I find out whether or not I’m pregnant by another man, that is.

Chapter 11

Amelia

Amelia stared down at the small, white stick, her hands shaking. The test had advertised correctly. Her results were clear. They were actually a little too clear. She wouldn’t have minded some reassuring vagueness at the moment. Pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant by the leader of a biker gang that wasn’t actually a gang. She was pregnant by a man she’d had a one-night stand with and hadn’t spoken to again in almost two months. Of course, she’d probably have to talk to him now.

A quick, slightly hysterical giggle escaped her and she smacked her hand over her mouth. This was no time to laugh. If she laughed too hard then the next swing of the emotional rollercoaster would be tears and she didn’t want that either. She needed logic, not emotion. What the hell was she going to do?

“Amelia?”

She jumped, the pregnancy test flying out of her grip and clattering into the sink when her father appeared suddenly in the doorway.

“What are you...” Gregory began and then trailed off when he recognized what she’d been holding. His face went a dark red and he stepped forward so fast that she shrank back. There was no way to hide it now. In keeping with her recent luck, the test had landed face-up, still cheerily proclaiming she was going to be a mother. He swung to face her, shock and fury written all over his face. “What in the hell is going on, Amelia?” he shouted.

She had to swallow several times before she could motivate her vocal cords into action. “What does it look like?”

“You better be able to tell me that this is all some sort of joke,” Gregory said, breathing heavily, his hands clenching and unclenching.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not feeling particularly funny right this second.”

What she actually felt was sick, dizzy, and a bit frightened. She’d never seen her father this angry. He was actually shaking. Was he going to hit her? She’d never had a reason to wonder that before, but she was afraid of it right now.

“Is it Anthony’s?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“That’s none of your--”

“Don’t tell me this is none of my business, I’m your father!”

“Then act like it!” she shouted back, her fury and worry finally reaching the boiling point. “Don’t stand there screaming at me when I’m scared to death!” Tears filled her eyes, but she knuckled them away angrily.

“You wouldn’t be scared if you hadn’t been so stupid!” he snapped back. “If it’s not Anthony’s then you know what to do. Just get rid of it and, for God’s sake, keep your mouth shut about it.”

He stomped out, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Amelia sank down on the edge of the tub. Her chest burned with anger and the sobs that she tried her hardest to choke back. She didn’t want to give into the panic that threatened to consume her. If she did, she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop crying.

Her hair fell forward into her face and she contemplated it blankly. It was greasy and lank. At least now she had an explanation for that.

That wasn’t the point right now. She needed a shower. No matter what her father had just said to her, she was sure he still expected her to go out with Anthony that night. Mechanically, Amelia stood up and walked over to the glass enclosure. She turned the water on and waited, staring blankly at the wall until steam had fogged the glass. Then she stepped in, barely registering how hot the water was. She was shaking and she couldn’t seem to stop.

Halfway through shaving her legs, she realized that she would have to tell Anthony that she was pregnant. She also realized she had no clue how to start that conversation.

She put her hand on her stomach. It was still flat, obviously. It might even be a few more months before she started to show. It would be even longer before she could feel the baby move. She could take care of things quickly and quietly, like her father had suggested.

But she didn’t want to. It wasn’t just her innate desire to rebel either. The thought of the clinic frightened her. The sterile environment and equipment that she didn’t want to think about. She didn't want a stiffly professional doctor telling her she was doing the right thing. Not when she was so unsure. There was just no way that she could make this decision. Not this soon. Not when she was still so frightened.

Her thoughts went back to Anthony once more. They’d been seeing each other regularly, but he’d never been more physical than a kiss goodnight. And it was always a slightly stiff kiss. A duty kiss more than anything else. He never even parted his lips. That was fine with her. She didn’t want his kisses and God knew that she didn’t want to go to bed with him. Not with Ethan’s memory so fresh in her mind.

But how would Anthony feel about her now that she was carrying another man’s child? She couldn’t imagine he’d be thrilled. If he broke up with her, would her father cut her off anyway? Why did she feel so relieved at the prospect? It had terrified her a month and a half ago.

The hand she’d placed on her stomach once more curled somewhat protectively. No, she couldn't give it all up now. This wouldn’t be the time to be financially unstable. She had to take care of more than herself now.

So was that it? Was it really that easy? Deciding to be a mother? She wrapped a towel around herself and walked into her room to get dressed. She was still terrified, shocked, and more than a little worried, yes. But...she liked the idea of having someone who loved her just because of who she was and not what she could do for them. Her own little baby to face the world with. Amelia and baby versus the world.

Her own person to raise and be totally responsible for. She swallowed hard. She wasn’t delusional enough to think motherhood was limited to picking out cute clothes and planning fun games. She’d grown up with no memories of the woman who had been her mother. Maybe, since she’d grown up without one, she didn’t know how to be one. Maybe the poor kid would be completely screwed up and it would be all her fault. In which case, she’d need her father’s money for therapy bills.

She had that same urge to laugh and cry and Amelia took a breath to steady herself. She had a little time; there was no need to choose right this second. She pulled out her phone and sent Anthony a text.

“Sorry for the short notice, but I’m not feeling well and I can’t make it tonight.”

His reply was nearly immediate.“Sorry to hear that. Feel better.”

It was as impersonal as calling in sick to work. Which was basically what she was doing. What both of them were doing, it seemed.

Taking a few moments to collect herself, she went downstairs to find her father.

# # #

“I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”

Amelia paused just outside the door to her father’s study. She didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but it was angry and forceful.

“I do-”

Her mouth dropped open at hearing her father so quiet and meek sounding. He’d never backed down in a political fight before and this new tone was a huge difference from the way he’d sounded in her bathroom.

“No, you don’t! You didn’t see the original footage, or how many people turned out to support that gangster! This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to have laws in place to prevent.”

“I’ve done everything I can,” Gregory said, a little more fire in his voice now. “I’ve passed the laws to raise the taxes and-”

“And what about the laws to prevent them from congregating?”

“Warren, I’m not even sure I can do that! I can’t get around the entire constitution!”

“Well, you’d damn well better find a way.” This was a different man’s voice, softer than the first man’s, but somehow more venomous. “Because that’s what we’re paying for.”

“Richard, you know I’m trying.”

The deferential tone was back. For some reason, it frightened Amelia more than the other man’s raised voice.

“We told you,” Warren said, “that we’d back you if you backed us. Get rid of the motorcycle clubs. That’s all we asked you to do. It shouldn’t be this hard, Gregory.”

She heard a chair scrape back. “I expect to hear something better soon. I’ve got a long drive back to Vegas and plenty of time to figure out who else I might want to support in this race,” Warren said. “Come on, Brewer, let’s go.”

The door handle turned and Amelia darted into the shadows of the living room. She somehow felt these weren’t the type of guys that you wanted to know you’d been eavesdropping.

From her vantage point in the dark, she saw two men came out of her father’s office. Brewer must have been the one that her father had called Richard. Richard Brewer. The name tickled something in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was. At least, not when she was so panicked about being seen.

“Warren, Richard,” her father said, his voice nearly pleading at her wiped a handkerchief across his forehead. “I promise, I’ll get this worked out. Just don’t--”

The men didn’t speak again. They simply walked out in the middle of her father’s sentence.

When the door closed behind them, she saw Gregory’s face. For the first time, he really did look old. Too old for the political game, and sad at the same time.

Amelia almost walked over to him, but she checked herself at the last minute. She didn’t want him knowing she’d overheard them either. She waited until he was back in his office and then went up to her room. There had been too much new information today for both of them and he’d probably hit the ceiling if he found out that she’d cancelled with Anthony.

Stopping only to grab her phone and pull her pajamas on, Amelia went to bed. It was early, but she was exhausted and she didn’t want to call too much attention to herself anyway. She’d have to start making decisions tomorrow and she wanted to make them with a well-rested brain.

Her hand curved over her stomach again. “You’re a lot of hard work already, kiddo,” she whispered just before she dropped off.

Chapter 12

Ethan

Ethan had just spread out all of his tools beside the Flathead, the first chance he’d had to work on it in the week that had followed the fundraiser, when his cell phone rang. Of course.

“Damn it.” He grabbed the phone, didn’t recognize the number, and answered it gruffly, already planning to make things quick. “Yeah?”

“Is this a bad time?”

He pulled the phone away and stared at it incredulously. He’d fully expected it to be a bill collector. “Marta Waters?”

“You remembered!” Her bright voice sounded honestly pleased. “I wanted to tell you that my boss loved the piece on your charity drive and he wants a follow-up about how much money you were able to donate,” she continued.

“I don’t have the exact numbers,” Ethan said, looking at the explosion of papers all over his desk. “But it was around ten grand.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what Taylor and Jimmy came back to me with. I’ll get up with them and then let you know for sure.” Taylor would be able to spit out the number down to the penny in a few seconds.

“Great! Thanks for the heads up about the event, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, too.” Her voice became more serious. “I’ve got something else I’d like to talk to you about, too. And I’d much rather do it in person than over the phone.”

“Paranoid about wire taps?”

“No, I just like looking at you.”

Ethan laughed. That wasn’t even close to what he’d expected to hear.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Marta said. “It must have happened to you a few times. Women love a bad boy. What do you think? I happen to be free tonight, and in the mood for French food.”

For a second, Ethan was shocked to find himself on the verge of saying no. But why the hell would he? Marta was smart, successful, gorgeous. Her blend of honesty and flirtatiousness was right up his alley too. The trouble lay in the fact that she wasn’t Amelia. But he didn’t owe Amelia Stratton a damn thing.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. He had to get Amelia out of his head and if Marta Waters wanted to help, he was damn sure going to let her.

# # #

“This is a pretty...uh...” He glanced around, feeling incredibly underdressed for the French restaurant she’d talked him into.

“It’s so overdone and ridiculously fancy,” Marta said, her eyes shining. “I love it here. You’ll be impressed when you taste it.”

He wasn’t convinced, but he followed the host to the table and took a seat across from Marta.

Once their drinks had been delivered, Marta took a sip of her white wine, then took a longer sip and finally said, “Okay. I’m taking a risk even telling you this. Can I have your promise that you won’t say anything to anyone about what I’m about to say?”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. He never made a promise before getting all of the details, and he wasn’t about to start now. “Probably. Depends on what it is.”

“It’s about Gregory Stratton. And a way to possibly get him out of our political system.”

Ethan put his drink down with a thump and leaned forward. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

She smiled. “I thought you’d be in. I’m just collecting threads right now, but there are plenty of them. Some really strange things going on behind the scenes.”

“Like what?”

“Mostly just in his behavior. He never said a word about bikers or motorcycle clubs until this past year. Why the sudden passion? Why the push to stop you from gathering? Why the higher taxes to basically force most motorcycle clubs to close their doors? More importantly, he’s lost a lot of his previous financial backers to his opponent. So, where’s the money coming from?”

“Maybe he’s paying for it himself?” Ethan asked.

Marta shook her head. “Politics is a big money game. He wouldn’t have the coin to compete without backers.”

Ethan took a bite of the terrine that had just been placed in front of him. Marta had recommended it and he was a bit suspicious.

“Good God,” he said, resisting the urge to close his eyes. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Told you,” Marta said smugly. “I have excellent taste in food, wine, and men.”

“And good instincts for your job.”

“Great instincts,” she corrected. “Anyway, I plan to follow this Stratton thing as far as I can. I’d appreciate knowing if he tries to do anything to you.”

Was it possible that she knew that Stratton had reason to target Ethan specifically? Was that why she’d invited him out to dinner? “Why would he go after me?” he asked carefully, watching her face casually, yet closely.

Marta shook her head and grinned. “Ethan. You called him out on public television just a few days ago. You really think you didn’t put a target on your back?”

“Hey,” he protested, relieved that that seemed to be the extent of what she knew about Gregory’s issues with him. “This is a hell of a lot of political intrigue for a guy who spends his time fixing engines, all right?”

She smiled. “I’m sure you do more than that.”

She was great at flirting, keeping things businesslike until she slid in a compliment. It was how he tended to operate, too. It should have been easy to tease her in return, but it wasn’t.

“Oh, my God!” Marta whispered suddenly. “That’s Stratton’s daughter!”

Ethan felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water directly over him. Every nerve tingled. “What?” he asked, doing everything he could not to turn around.

“Amelia Stratton,” Marta said in an undertone. “She’s here right now. I wonder if I have time to slip the host a twenty to get them to seat her near us.”

“Don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ethan muttered.

Marta zeroed in on him. “Why not?”

“She probably doesn’t like me any more than her dad does,” he hedged.

“Hmmm,” Marta said, sipping her wine and eyeing him closely.

“So,” Ethan said, redirecting her attention. “Amelia. What do you know about her?”

Marta shrugged and they both paused while Amelia walked by. Ethan’s appetite faded away when he saw she was on the arm of a guy who looked like he’d spent more on his suit than Ethan spent on his rent.

“Not much,” she went on when Amelia and the man had been seated. “There’s not much to know. She parties a little, or at least she did. But I’d be more suspicious of a politician’s kid that didn’t drink than one that does. She’s got a bachelor's degree, but she doesn’t work. She’s been seeing that guy for about two months, I think. His name’s Anthony Barlow and he’s Governor Barlow’s son.” Her phone buzzed and she gave him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I’ve got to check that.”

“Go for it.” Ethan was glad that she was looking down at her phone because he knew he looked like he’d been sucker punched. He felt like it, too. “Two months?” he asked, his voice much rougher than he’d wanted it to be. “Are you sure?”

Marta looked up, reading the situation in an instant. “Yeah. I didn’t know the two of you were--”

“We’re not,” he said. She didn’t look up, but he saw her eyebrow slide up. He sighed. “Okay. We had a really short thing a while back. It wasn’t serious.”

Nearly two months. She’d been seeing Anthony Barlow before she even set foot in that bar. Had she been cheating on her boyfriend that night? The unanswered questions were mounting up and he didn’t know how much longer he could take the weight.

“Okay,” Marta said, putting her phone back into her purse. “I didn’t ask you here to grill you about Amelia Stratton.”

“You didn’t know about me and her until just now,” Ethan pointed out.

Marta smiled. “Touché. But there’s one important thing you have to understand, Ethan.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’re going to help me bring Stratton down, that makes you a source. If you’re a source, you’re protected. So that means I’m not going to splatter your little one-night stand all over the television. Tabloid journalism isn’t my thing.”

He could tell he’d offended her. “I know it’s not,” Ethan said. “And I’ll take your word for it, Marta.”

“Thanks.”

He could tell his words hadn’t gone far to smooth things over. She still looked more than a little frosty. She glanced away, looking toward the table where Amelia and Anthony were sitting, and her expression changed. It was so quick that Ethan couldn’t help looking, too.

Anthony Barlow had pulled out a small box and opened it. Amelia was staring at him with her lips parted. Then, slowly, she held her hand out. It was shaking. Anthony pushed the ring onto her finger and Ethan swore he saw the light flash off the diamond from halfway across the room.

Anthony poured her some more wine. Amelia glanced away from the ring she’d been staring at and her eyes caught Ethan’s. It was a strangely static moment. He could see her breath catch as she went pale.

His stomach twisted when Anthony reached over and took her hand, drawing her attention back. She gave him a smile. Ethan’s hands clenched on the table.

“Gregory Stratton is going to be giving a speech in about an hour and a half. That’s what the message was,” Marta said, waving the waiter over and requesting a box and two checks.

Ethan didn’t miss the slight disappointment in Marta’s eyes and he knew he’d screwed up any potential they might have had. “I guess you should be sure to catch it,” he said.

Her tone was noncommittal when she said, “You should watch it, too. Let me know if anything catches your eye.”

# # #

Ethan opened the door to the headquarters, sorry to find it empty. He’d just bombed a date, seen a woman he hadn’t been able to get off of his mind for almost two months get engaged to another man, and now he was going to have to watch her father ruin his life on public television. He’d hoped someone would be hanging out that he could rope into watching the speech with him. And someone who could talk him out of getting blackout drunk and making a stupid decision.

He grabbed a beer, turned on the television and flopped down on the ratty, old leather couch. It had been there since the first time he’d seen the place at the age of fifteen and he had no intention of ever replacing it. It molded to a person, sucking them down into pure relaxation.

He figured he’d need all the relaxation he could get because Stratton had just stepped onto the stage. The audience was clapping enthusiastically, but Ethan noticed that the big room wasn’t full by any means. He’d take what victories he could get.

“I know a lot of you have been wondering why I’m so darn hard down on these poor bikers lately,” Stratton said once he’d given his opening comments. He gave the audience as charming smile. Ethan resisted the urge to throw his beer at the television. William would never forgive him if he broke it. “But, even if they try to make themselves look good by collecting for charities, we can’t be taken in by it. The Angel’s Keepers...” He paused and shook his head at the name. “They never released how much money was made. And they certainly didn’t release how much they actually handed over to the veterans’ charity. Which, forgive me, is suspicious for a group that claimed they would donate 100% of the profits that you people took out of your hard-earned money and gave to them in good faith that they would do the right thing!”

A cheer went up and Ethan realized his hands were aching from how tightly he’d clenched his fists.

“And this is the kind of thing that these gangs do,” Stratton went on, looking out at the sparse crowd earnestly. “They like to make you believe that they’re just everyday guys. Just good old boys who like to ride motorcycles in their spare time.” He thumped his fist on the podium. “But do you know what they do on those rides? They exchange drugs and dirty money! They help sex traffickers take our daughters! And, even more than that, they cause an astounding amount of deaths on the roadways. They are simply hazardous to us as drivers, as people, as a moral state and nation!”

Ethan snorted. It was almost funny because the guy sounded like a complete idiot. It was just that he was an idiot with power. Stratton waited for the clapping to die down before he spoke again.

“That’s why I’m proposing a law to limit their ability to ride together in such large numbers. No longer will they be able to clog our highways for something as simple as a poker run. Or something as dangerous as a drug run. But I’m going to need your help. Write to your congressmen. Sign the petitions that are out there. Make your voices heard and help me protect the state I’ve served for twenty years!”

Ethan threw his beer bottle against the wall and reveled in the crash. He’d have to clean it up later, but it had been worth it. He turned the television off. There was research and then there was risking a stroke from high blood pressure.

What the living hell was the guy’s problem? Theories swirled in his mind. A new backer who hated bikers? The fact that he’d fucked Stratton’s daughter? It couldn’t be that, because the guy had been out for motorcycle clubs before that. Amelia’s beautiful face appeared in his mind’s eye.

He wanted answers from her, too. Fuck it. He was tired of living with these questions. He stood up and yanked his jacket out. He was going to see Amelia.

# # #

A quick search on his phone had gotten him the address, but when he pulled up to the massive gates he had no idea how he was going to get in. There was a convenient buzzer, but he didn’t nurse any illusions of being let right in. He couldn’t take the chance of being turned away by some impersonal staff member or security guard. Not when he needed to be able to see her face.

Ethan realized his heart had started thumping harder. Nervous? No, it couldn’t be. Whatever he’d felt for her had to be dead. She was engaged to someone else now, damn it. He reassured himself it was just anger. It couldn’t be anything else. He left the bike on the street and went over the wall, hoping to God her father didn’t have dogs.

He made it to the door without any issues and knocked firmly. It took a few repetitions before the door opened slightly. The chain was still on. Amelia’s face peered out. Her mouth dropped open and the door slammed.

Ethan was raising his hand to knock again when he heard the chain drop and the door was flung wide.

“Ethan?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” For a second, that was all he could say.

Now that he saw her up close, under the bright hallway lights, she looked smaller than she had two months ago. She’d washed her makeup off and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and ask her what was wrong. Even though he was supposed to be furious with her.

“What...what are you doing here?”

She pushed her hair back into the untidy bun and he noticed the way the light caught and flashed on the massive diamond. It was surrounded by countless smaller diamonds. He was almost relieved to feel his anger flood back.

“I don’t know, Amelia,” he snapped, stepping into the foyer and closing the door behind him. “Maybe I’m here for some goddamn answers.”

“A...answers?” she asked, backing up just a bit, looking suddenly afraid.

She was so much smaller than him. Ethan took a breath and stayed where he was. He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on.

“Were you watching your father’s speech?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “No. I read it when it was finished this morning. Is that really what you came for? Ethan, I--”

“Were you with that other guy when we had sex?” Ethan burst out, needing to know.

“What guy?”

“What guy? Hell, I don’t know...maybe the one that just gave you a diamond the size of a golf ball a few hours ago at dinner?”

Amelia glanced disinterestedly down at her ring. “Oh. Anthony.”

Ethan snorted at her bored response to a ring that probably cost more than he spent on food in a year. And she didn’t seem too interested in the guy who’d given it to her either. Did she just not give a damn about any of the men she associated with?

“So is that a yes?”

“No!” She looked into his eyes, hers begging him to believe her. “Ethan, I hadn’t even been out with Anthony before that night.”

“Pretty quick work,” he said coldly. “Going from a one night stand with a big, bad, biker to an engagement with a little rich boy.”

Amelia’s face flushed. “You don’t know anything about why I’m doing this! Don’t you dare stand there and judge me!”

“Fine,” he snarled. “I don’t even know why the hell I expected anything different from you. Just another rich girl slumming before she has to give in and make Daddy proud.”

He was nearly out the door when he heard her begin to cry.Don’t look, don’t look. He turned back. Her hands were over her face and her small figure was shaking with harsh sobs. “Goddamn it,” he muttered, going back inside. “Amelia...come on. Stop that.”

“Stop that?” she managed through her tears. “You’re shitty at making things better, Ethan!”

He huffed out a half laugh. “Hey, if you’re just gonna criticize me, maybe I’ll go after all.”

He only just braced himself when she threw herself at him, sobbing into his chest, soaking his tee shirt. He cupped the back of her head, pulling her hair free of its ties and running his fingers through it, allowing the silky strands to soothe the confusion and anger that was still bottled up. He was still furious with her father and he still didn’t understand what the hell had happened between him and Amelia that night, but, God, she felt right against him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please. I’ll do what I can to explain. Just...please don’t go.”

When she looked up at him, he couldn’t help himself. She wasn’t his. She was engaged to another man. And he still cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Amelia went up onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around him and parting her lips for his tongue.

He’d convinced himself over the time that they’d been apart that there was no way being with her had been that good. He’d told himself that the memory only stuck with him because he was confused by it. None of that was true. Standing her with her now, kissing her again...it brought it all back vividly. Her mouth was perfection. Her small breasts pushing against his chest were even better, if anything could be better than perfection. And he was pretty sure that she somehow was.

Ethan pulled back before he really wanted to, remembering that engagement ring. He’d done some questionable things in his life, but he wasn’t a cheater. He didn’t want to be the person someone cheated with either.

He had to even out his breathing before he could speak, but he managed. “Then talk to me, Amelia.”

She took a deep breath as well. “Okay. Come out onto the back deck. We’ll talk there.”

Chapter 13

Amelia

Amelia’s whole body felt like it was buzzing with nerves. Nerves and arousal. The back deck had seemed like the safest place for a talk. There had been a look in his eyes...his gorgeous, dark blue eyes...that had shaken her to her core.

It wasn’t fear; it was desire, plain and simple. Could she really live the rest of her life with a man who barely glanced up from his cell phone when she was around when there was a man who devoured her with his eyes? God help her, she didn’t know if she could.

Her mind was racing with possibilities. Why had Ethan come? Just for answers? She could understand why he wanted them. But did he want more? He’d nearly walked out on her. But that kiss...she brushed her fingers over her lips. They were still tingling.

“You said you’d explain,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

She nodded, leaning back against the deck railing so she felt steadier. “Yes. And I will. I want to answer your questions.”

“Why me? That night?”

That wasn’t exactly where she’d expected him to start. She blinked up at him, thrown. “Um...well, I guess because--”

He held up his hand suddenly. “Wait. That’s not...why anyone? You were a virgin.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?”

“Blood,” he said succinctly. “On the sheets. I saw it the next morning.” He gave her a half smile. “And even if I hadn’t been sure, you would have confirmed it for me just now. You’ve got no poker face.”

She looked down. Why did he have to be so suddenly charming? “I wanted to make at least one decision in my life that was just mine,” she said.

Ethan shifted, pushing his hands down into his pockets. “So you decided to lose your virginity to some random dude?”

Amelia raised her chin. “Yes. But it wasn’t going to be just anyone. I mean, definitely not that first guy. You...you felt right.”

“Why?” His eyes locked with hers, seeming to search her.

“Because you stood up for me and you didn’t have to. And because you did it without throwing a single punch. You were unexpected.” Amelia glanced down. “And I thought you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen in person.”

“You thought?” he asked, stepping forward, caging her in, his body only a few inches from hers. “What happened between now and then?”

Amelia looked up at him, swallowing hard. “Nothing important.”

Slowly, his features hardened and he stepped back. “Except now you’re marrying someone else. That’s not important?”

What should she tell him? Confusion warred within her. How much did he need to know? What would send him running out?

“You were really fine with walking out of my house?” he asked. “And never coming back? Without saying a damn thing?”

“I had to,” she said. “If I’d waited...if you’d woken up...”

“You’d have stayed?”

“Did you want me to?” she asked, turning the tables on him. He didn’t answer. Amelia shook her head. “No. You’re not going to stand here and drag answers out of me without giving anything. Are you the kind of guy that makes breakfast for the women he brings home?”

“No,” he said, his anger rising up again. “I’m not even the kind of guy who stays the night. I just...”

“So you can just fuck and leave, but you’re going to judge me for it?”

“I’m not judging you! I missed you!”

She turned away, looking out over the sparkling pool while she blinked back tears. He moved behind her again, putting his hands on either side of her and leaning down to speak into her ear.

“Why are you marrying him?”

“Because I have to.”

She saw his hands clench on the railing. “No. You don’t. This is the 21st century, for God’s sake! You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to marry! You don’t lo--like him. Do you?”

“He’s okay. It’s a business partnership, nothing more than that. Do you want to know how our dates go? He picks me up; he spends the whole car ride texting people. We only go to places where he thinks we’ll be seen. He--”

“Why?” he demanded harshly. “Why the hell would you do this?”

“I... it’s hard to explain...Anthony...he has money--”

“You have money!”

She spun around. “And I won’t if I don’t do this!”

“Basically, your old man won’t give you money if you don’t marry this guy?”

“Yes.”

“And money’s more important than anything else?”

“No, but I do like to eat!”

“Then get a job like the rest of us!” Ethan shouted.

“It’s not that simple!” Amelia shouted back.

“Then explain it to me!”

She pushed her hands through her hair, fighting tears again. “I don’t know how. I don’t want you to walk out on me!”

Ethan grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against his chest. “Let’s get two things straight right now. You drive me fucking crazy, Amelia. But I’m not going anywhere unless you throw me out.”

She threw her arms around him.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Amelia spun to face her father. Ethan kept his arm over her shoulders, holding her against his side, tucking her in protectively.

“Amelia?” Gregory asked again. “What are youdoing? You’re engaged to Anthony!”

“For now,” Ethan said, his body so tense that Amelia could feel every muscle tighten and flex. “Maybe she’ll change her mind. Since it’s her decision to make and everything.”

“You honestly think you’ll make a better father to that child than the governor’s son will? What could you give the baby? An addiction problem before it hits high school? A life on food stamps?”

Ethan looked down at Amelia in shock. “What?”

She dropped her face into her hands. Gregory Stratton stared at the two of them, seeming to realize Amelia hadn’t told Ethan yet.

“Get off my property or I’ll call the police,” he blustered.

“There’s...there’s a baby?” Ethan asked, ignoring her father, his voice nearly shaking. She didn’t answer. “Amelia. Are you pregnant? With...” He sounded almost staggered, completely shocked. She had no idea whether it was good or bad, though. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I’m calling the police,” Gregory said, pulling his cell phone out and beginning to dial.

“Just go,” Amelia said, completely humiliated and unable to take anymore. “Just go, Ethan, please.”

Her heart broke when she heard his heavy motorcycle boots thump over the wooden deck boards as he left her behind. Hands still over her face, she sank down and sobbed. Her father stood over her for a moment, but he didn’t speak before he turned and walked into the house.

Chapter 14

Ethan

Ethan walked out of the house, aware Gregory Stratton was following him closely and watching his every move. Probably to make sure he didn’t steal anything on the way. He shouldn’t have bothered. The only thing he’d wanted to leave with was on the back deck, refusing to look at him.

And she hadn’t told him she was pregnant. A month and a half of silence, an engagement to another man, and now this. Ethan’s head was spinning.

He shoved the huge metal gate open and walked down to where his bike was parked. Every footstep sent the words through his brain again. She was pregnant. With his kid. He didn’t even have an extra bedroom. Where would he put a baby? How would he afford to feed it?

He made enough to get by, to put a little aside even, but he wasn’t exactly rolling in dough. He could sell the bike. He could take on more hours at the shop. He could--

Ethan shook his head. No. What was he thinking? He didn’t have to worry about any of that because Stratton was going to call the cops if he ever so much as saw him within five hundred feet of Amelia. Amelia, who hadn’t told him she was pregnant.

Why in God’s hadn’t she told him? Why the hell hadn’t she said something? The conversation had been enlightening and infuriating, but he’d felt close to her. She stood up to him. So why couldn’t she stand up to her father? Or was it more that she simply wouldn’t?

He slung his leg over the bike and jerked his helmet down over his head. Now where the hell was he going to go? He couldn’t go home. There was no way he could face the bed that still gave him flashbacks of their night together. Not knowing what he knew now. Knowing he was never going to be able to be with her again.

The Flathead needed work and he had anger to burn off. That settled it. He’d go to headquarters.

He rode there almost distractedly and, when he recognized William’s bike parked out front, walked straight into the garage, bypassing the common room. He couldn’t bring himself to face the man, not while he was still so shell shocked. There were other guys there, as well, full patch members. Ethan vaguely remembered that they played poker once a week here. So they probably wouldn’t pay him any attention anyway. They tended to take the game pretty seriously.

He walked into the garage and over to the full-sized refrigerator they kept there. Maybe a beer or ten would help him get some feeling back in his numb brain and body. The massive black refrigerator was covered in layers of newspaper clippings, postcards...most of them featuring nearly naked women and dirty jokes...from rides various members had been on, and photographs of varying quality taken with cheap cameras. As he reached to pull the door open, he accidentally pushed a clipping of Stratton that someone had drawn devil horns onto off of the picture behind it.

He’d forgotten the picture was there. Ethan tugged it off of the fridge and leaned back against a workbench, beer forgotten. It was a picture of him with his father, right after he’d first come out to Nevada. He remembered posing for it now. Maria had taken the photo.

“Come on! It’s the first time your son has been to your motorcycle club!” she said, waving her camera in their faces. “You’re gonna wanna remember it!”

Marcus looked at William over Maria’s head and William shrugged. “Might as well let her do it, man. She’s been taking pictures of every damn thing since I bought it for her. ‘Bout time she picked on somebody who ain’t me.”

“Shut up, or you’ll end up in the picture, too,” she said with a grin. “Now, get in closer, in front of that bike.” She glanced up at them, frustrated. “Pretend like you love each other, okay? We’re going for a Kodak moment here.”

Marcus put his arm over Ethan’s shoulders, both of them tensing up. This was the first time Marcus touched him since he’d arrived in Nevada two weeks before. Ethan stood stiffly, not leaning in. He’d been so unsure back then. Hell, they both had. And, of the twenty-seven years Ethan should have gotten with his father, he’d missed out on sixteen of them.

Was he really planning to do the same thing to his own kid? Ignoring it? Going back to his life with the motorcycle club as if he didn’t have any responsibilities at all? Letting Anthony Barlow raise his child just because the guy had more money than he did? Or worse, just because Gregory Stratton had told him to back off?

Hell no. With some of the shock dissipating and his brain firing on all cylinders again, Ethan knew there was no way some jackass politician was going to keep him out of his own kid’s life. He shoved the picture into his back pocket and started for the door. Then he pulled up short.

There was no way in hell he was going to get back into Amelia’s house without a fleet of cops showing up. He chewed his thumbnail, thinking hard. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number from his call log.

“Hi, Ethan,” Marta said.

She sounded a little cooler than normal, but he couldn’t really blame her. He’d basically ignored her on their date and stared at other women half the night. He probably wouldn’t have even answered the phone if the roles had been reversed.

“Hey,” he said. “I wondered if I could ask a favor.”

“You can ask,” she said cautiously.

“It’s nothing crazy,” he assured her. “I just need Amelia Stratton’s cell phone number.”

“Are yousure it’s not crazy?” Marta asked. “You’re not thinking of ruining my investigation, are you, Ethan?”

He didn’t begrudge the question. “No. You said yourself that Amelia doesn’t seem to be a big part of the picture. What I need to talk to her about isn’t related to Stratton.”

“But she is.” Marta pointed out.

Ethan blew out his breath in frustration. “Okay, forget I asked.”

“Wait a second.” She sighed. “You really are impulsive, aren’t you? I’m not saying no.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?” Time was ticking away and he was getting impatient.

“I’msaying there’s a strong chance she knows the campaign inside and out. If you get any information out of her, I want you to remember who put you in touch, that’s all.”

“I’m not grilling her for you.”

Marta laughed ruefully. “You wouldn’t be very good at it anyway. Like I said, you’re impulsive. Too impulsive for the long game. What I’m getting at is simple. If she’s associating with you, I’m banking on the fact that she doesn’t exactly share her father’s ideals. She might tell you things freely. She might evenwant to help. If she does, come to me.”

Ethan pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Okay, I get it.”

“I’ll call you back when I have the number.”

Ethan paced the room, too wired to think of working on the bike to kill some time. He couldn’t even bring himself to sit down, let alone do anything that required any detail.

“What’re you doin’ here?” William asked in surprise.

Ethan jumped. He hadn’t heard the other man walk in. “Uh, nothing. I mean, I thought about working on the bike, but now I don’t know.”

“Okay,” William said slowly, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a Stratton of beer. “You look nervous.”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Ethan defended himself. “And hell, with everything that’s going on...Stratton and his damn speech...why wouldn’t I be nervous?”

“Okay,” William said again. “Maybe have a beer or somethin’ while you try to figure out whether you wanna work on that bike. You’re wound awful tight, kid.”

“Sure,” Ethan said. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that.”

His phone buzzed and he turned away from William, reading the text quickly. Marta had sent Amelia’s number and a message wishing him luck. Ethan dialed rapidly, trying to get himself together. William was right. He was wound so tightly that his muscles ached. He could feel a headache beginning at his temples too.

“Hello?”

“Amelia?”

He heard a gasp on the other end of the line and he hoped to God that her father wasn’t in the room. Stratton would be all over that in a heartbeat.

“Ethan?” she whispered.

He guessed her father wasn’t there and held back a sigh of relief. “Yeah. I need...I need to talk to you.” He paused, but when she didn’t speak, he went on. “I can’t leave it like that, Amelia. You can’t expect me to.”

“Ethan, if you keep pushing this, it’ll damage your club even more. That’s part of the reason I’m doing what I’m doing. He said he’lldestroy you if I didn’t!”

Ethan snorted. “You think he won’t anyway? Amelia, I don’t give a damn about damaging The Angel’s Keepers right now. Not after what you told me. I just...I can’t leave things like this. Even if you want to marry this Anthony guy, I’m gonna be part of this. I’m not walking away.”

Amelia caught her breath again, and Ethan discovered he was holding his breath. What was he going to do if she said no?

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice unsteady but determined. “We do need to talk. But how....”

“You’ll have to find a way to meet me outside. I’ll be waiting down the road.”

“Okay. I’ll...I’ll figure it out. See you soon.”

Ethan disconnected and shoved the phone down into his pocket. In his haste to get out the door, he didn’t see William in the doorway. All he could focus on was getting to Amelia before she changed her mind.

Chapter 15

Amelia

Amelia wrapped her hands around the steaming cup of coffee Ethan had placed in front of her. Summer was dying, and the nights were cooling rapidly, the way they always did in the desert. That wasn’t the problem at the moment, though. It was nerves, pure and simple, that made her shiver now.

He sat down across the table from her with his own mug. He took his coffee black. Hers was practically blonde. She wondered what that meant. If it even meant anything. She’d heard that smokers drank black coffee more often than nonsmokers. It was supposedly something about how smoking killed their taste buds. Did Ethan smoke? He hadn’t been smoking that night at the bar and she hadn’t smelled it on him on the ride back to his house. He’d just smelled like fresh air and leather.

She shook her head slightly. Why was she wasting her time thinking about that? Probably because she had no idea how to begin a conversation about what they actually needed to talk about.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked once he’d taken a sip of his coffee.

Apparently, he had no problem diving right in. She took a breath, rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms down the sides of her pants and gathered her thoughts. She wanted to be upfront and honest because it looked like they were going to be in each other’s lives for the long haul now. She was tired of tiptoeing around things with her father and Anthony. She wanted at least one person who knew her inside and out.

“Because you were already mad,” she said. “You walk in looking like a thunderstorm and expect me to say what? Glad you dropped by, I’m having your baby?”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and he shook his head. “No. But tell me honestly, were you going to get around to it if your father hadn’t come home?”

Amelia ran her fingertip around the rim of her cup. “I can’t tell you honestly, because I don’t know. I...wantedto. But I can’t promise I would have had the courage to do it tonight.” Ethan frowned, but she went on before he could ask more questions. “I can tell you why and it doesn’t have anything to do with you as a person. It’s just that no one has had a good reaction to this news, Ethan. Anthony is annoyed because it speeds up the wedding. My father is humiliated. I’m terrified. I couldn’t handle it if you’d walked out on me, or told me to get rid of it. Out of all the outcomes I’ve already dealt with, I was expecting a good one from you. I never in a million years expected you towantto be a part of this.”

Ethan shifted in his seat and, for a second, she thought that was almost as if he’d planned to reach for her. In the end, he stayed where he was. Was he already distancing himself from her? Amelia pressed her lips together so they wouldn’t tremble. There was no time to deal with the voice in her head right now. She needed to focus on the issue at hand and worry about where they stood as a couple later. If they stood anywhere at all.

“I was kind of ticked off about that,” Ethan said. “But then I figured it out. You don’t know much about me. Hell, we don’t know that much about each other. But I can tell you why I feel the way I feel. If you’re interested.”

“Of course I’m interested!” Amelia said eagerly, leaning forward. She’d been dying to find out more about Ethan since the minute she’d left him.

Ethan looked flattered and a little flustered by her enthusiasm. He pushed one hand through his hair and put the coffee cup down on the table. “Okay. Well...” He shifted in his seat again and cleared his throat. “My parents were only nineteen when I was born. They weren’t...the most stable couple. My dad, Marcus, drank. He drank a lot, actually. My mom did, too, but she cleaned it up when she found out she was pregnant. My dad didn’t. When I was about six months old, she finally got tired of him drinking their paychecks away and she packed up. She left with this other guy she knew who was headed out to a job in the south.”

“So that’s where your accent comes from,” she mused.

He made a face. “Yeah. I’ve tried to get rid of it, but--”

“Don’t!” she said emphatically. “It’s hot.”

This time he did grin. The accent broadened as he said, “Why thank you, ma’am.”

Amelia laughed. He made that move again, as if he wanted to touch her, but he held himself back. She wished he wouldn’t, but she couldn’t say she didn’t understand why he did.

“So is that why you want to be a part of this baby’s life?” she asked. “Because your dad wasn’t part of yours?”

Ethan looked surprised. “He was. I mean, later.”

She blinked in confusion. “Oh. I thought...”

“It’s not really a complicated story,” he said with a shrug. “But it’s not really normal either.”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“We lived in North Carolina until right before I turned sixteen,” Ethan went on. “My mom wouldn’t let me talk to my dad. She didn’t even like to talk about him. All I ever heard was that he’d rather drink and mess around with other women than take care of his family. I thought he must be a real jerk. A loser. A drunk.” Ethan looked down at the table for a long moment and then he took a sip of his coffee before he went on. “Then my mom died.”

Amelia’s lips parted. “Oh, Ethan.”

“Yeah,” he said, acknowledging her sympathy roughly. “It happened really fast. One day she was fine and the next...she was just gone. Meningitis. It’s apparently a pretty rare thing to die from when you’re her age, but that’s what happened. Anyway, the state didn’t know what to do with me because she didn’t really have any other family. It was either foster care or Marcus and he said he’d take me. So, they bought me a plane ticket and sent me to live with my dad.”

“That must have been rough,” she said, knowing “rough” was probably inadequate.

Ethan shrugged and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess it was,” he agreed. “I didn’t know what the hell was gonna happen. You know, was he gonna drink himself stupid every night? Was he going to try to hit me? Maybe he’d just disappear for days at a time and I wouldn’t know what the hell to do.”

“You were scared,” Amelia said softly.

“Hell yeah, I was,” he admitted. “My mom was a good person, and she did the best she could for me, but she never had a kind word for Marcus Billings. And I’d...never really been away from her. Never been out of North Carolina. At least, not that I could remember. The idea of getting on a plane really freaked me out. And I was leaving every single friend I’d ever made on the other side of the damn country.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “By the time I got off the plane and got smacked in the face with all the dry, desert air, I was ready for a fight.”

He got up and poured Amelia another cup of coffee, putting in sugar and creamer, turning the drink golden brown before putting it down in front of her. This time, he didn’t sit across the table from her. He leaned against the counter instead, holding his own fresh coffee and looking pensive.

“He was waiting for me at the gate. Grease all over his hands and his clothes. See, he meant to change before he came to get me, but he always got distracted when he was working on something new. And he’d just gotten his hands on a 1960 Royal Enfield Interceptor.” Seeing Amelia’s blank expression, Ethan said. “British bike. They’re hard to find and 1960 was the first year they made ‘em. Anyway, he’d been working on it when he remembered me--”

“He forgot his son was coming back for the first time since he was six months old?” Amelia asked, completely incredulous.

“He didn’t forget,” Ethan said, just a touch defensive. “He just lost track of time and couldn’t clean up. So he’s waiting at the gate, covered in grease and looking like a bum. Ripped jeans, black tee shirt, black leather vest. He hadn’t shaved in a few days...what?”

Amelia smiled. “Nothing.” Ethan stood before her, grease under his nails and in the creases of his palms. He was wearing ripped jeans, a black tee shirt, and a black leather vest. And he hadn’t shaved in a few days. It was a really good look for him, no doubt, but it was more than a little funny given the way he’d just described his father. “Go on,” she encouraged when he continued to look a little quizzically at her.

“I walked over,” Ethan went on. “And he said hello. That was it. Just...hello. He didn’t ask how my flight was or anything else. It pissed me off, so I blew him off and went and got my suitcase. He just kind of stared at it when I brought it back and then he said it wouldn’t fit on the bike.” Ethan shook his head, a half smile playing around his lips. “I asked him what the hell I was supposed to do with all my stuff, shove it up my ass? My mom would have smacked me right across the back of the head for talking to her like that. Dad just shrugged and said if I thought it would fit, I could try. But otherwise, he could call me a cab. So, that’s what he did. I rode to his house by myself and he followed on the bike.”

“And then what?” she asked.

“Then we kinda settled in. He was gone most of the day, working. He was gone a lot at night with the club. So I kinda thought I was right; he was just gonna be out all the time, doing whatever he wanted. It would have been okay if it weren’t summer. I didn’t know anybody in the town yet, so it wasn’t like I could throw any parties while he was gone. And then I noticed there wasn’t a drop of beer in the house. No liquor either. Now, my mom had said that this was a guy who couldn’t go twelve hours without a drink, so I figured he was drinking at the club. One day, he got tired of me just lying around the house and dragged me over to The Angel’s Keepers HQ.” Ethan pulled the picture out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table in front of Amelia. “This was taken that day. It’s pretty much the only picture of us there is.”

Amelia picked it up carefully. The camera had obviously been a cheap one and the color was a little off, the edges a little fuzzy. Sixteen-year-old Ethan looked out at her slightly defiantly. He’d been pretty tall by then, only a few inches shorter than he was now. His shoulders had been beginning to broaden and his hair had been longer, falling into his eyes.

“You were grunge,” she said with a smile, looking at his red and black flannel and baggy jeans. “I never would have pictured that.”

He shrugged, looking away. “Well...it was a big deal back in North Carolina.”

Amelia chuckled at the tone. “I think it’s cute.”

Ethan reached over and twitched the picture out of her light hold. “I think you’ve seen enough.”

“Wait just a second!” she protested. “Give it back. I wanted to look at your dad!”

“You had your shot,” he said.

Amelia pushed her chair back and dove for the picture he was starting to push back into his pocket. He grabbed her wrist and spun her neatly, putting her chest to his back. She squirmed, trying to break free of his grip.

“If you promise to be good, I’ll give it back,” Ethan said, his voice rough in her ear.

Amelia caught her breath. “I’m never completely good,” she answered, bolder when she wasn’t facing him.

“That much I know for sure.”

Ethan let her go slowly and she turned around, too shy suddenly to look up at him. She held out her hand and he reluctantly returned the photograph. This time she focused on the other man in the frame.

Marcus Billings was tall, too. In fact, Ethan bore a very strong resemblance to his father now that he was grown up. They had the same firm jawline and dark eyes. They both had the same expression in the picture too. She would describe it as manly terror.

“He looks like a pretty nice guy,” she offered.

“He’d really cleaned himself up,” Ethan said. “I had to put the story together piece by piece, but he’d stopped drinking when I was about two years old. He’d tracked my mom down, tried to see me, but she wouldn’t let him. She said we were better off without him.”

“Even though he was clean?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if maybe she didn’t believe it, or if she just liked her life a whole lot better without him in it. Either way, he left. Joined the Army for a while. Then, when his tour was up, he came back and he and William started The Angel’s Keepers. I would have been about ten then. So it had been around for about six years when I came out to Nevada. I didn’t know anything about mechanic work, but I didn’t have anything better to do, so I started going to the HQ with my dad. He taught me everything he knew.”

“And then you joined the Army, too,” Amelia said when Ethan stopped talking. “Right? You said you were a mechanic in the Army.”

He nodded, surprised she’d remembered. “Yeah. I probably would have stayed in longer, too. I kinda planned to make it my full-time gig.  But my dad got sick.” He cleared his throat. “He kept saying everything was fine, but I could tell it wasn’t, so when it came time to reenlist, I didn’t go back in. I came home and saw he’d lost more than fifty pounds while I was gone. His hair was starting to get really thin and he looked about twenty years older. I sat him down, told him I wasn’t going to leave until he told me what the hell was going on. He finally gave in and told me. He had cancer, pancreatic. He made it two years after that, which was a year and a half more than they gave him.” He paused, swallowing hard. “Eventually the pain got to be too much. Then I lost him. So I had ten years with my dad when I could have had twenty-six.” He met her eyes. “Amelia, I’m not gonna do that to my kid. Nobody knows how long they’ve got, but I’m gonna be there as long as I can.”

Amelia blinked back sudden tears, looking down at the scarred tabletop. He’d sounded like he meant every word. It was the most emotion she’d ever heard in his voice. And, as foolish as it sounded, she felt a little jealous of the baby.

“Hey,” Ethan said, sitting down across from her once more. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

That I’m falling in love with you. That I don’t think you’ll ever love me back.Amelia took a breath to steady her voice. “I’m sorry,” she said, putting on a small smile. “I’m an emotional wreck. Thanks for telling me that story. I understand now.”That I’m just the woman who happens to be pregnant with your child. That it wasn’t me you came back for.

Ethan’s dark eyes searched her face. “I’m not so sure you do,” he said flatly. “You look--”

Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her bag. “It’s my father.”

His mouth tightened. “Ignore it.”

“I can’t,” Amelia said. “If he has even the smallest, slightest reason to think you might have hurt me, he’ll have the police out here before you can think twice. I don’t want to put you through that.”

Ethan stood up. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

She grabbed his shirt as he walked past. “No, please don’t. I’m sorry, but...I just need you to stay with me for this.”

He stopped as she accepted the call and after a brief second, she felt his big hand resting on her shoulder. The warmth and strength there were the only thing that gave her the courage to say hello.

“Where are you?” Gregory demanded. “I’ve had security all over the house and the grounds, so don’t try to lie and tell me you’re still here!”

Ethan squeezed her shoulder and she glanced up at him. He could clearly hear her father’s shouting from where he stood. It was just as clear that he didn’t like it. His jaw was tight, but his eyes were reassuring.

“I’m not going to try to lie,” she said, her voice shaking only slightly, which she was proud of. “I’m with Ethan.”

Amelia jerked the phone away from her ear as her father bellowed, “What did you just say?”

“I said I’m with Ethan,” she repeated. “I told you if he wanted to be involved--”

“Don’t be an idiot, Amelia. He doesn’t want to be involved!” Gregory interrupted, his tone angry and mocking. “He just wants to screw me over!”

Ethan snorted and Amelia glanced up at him. He looked furious now.

“Dad--”

“This conversation is over. Get home. Now, Amelia.”

“This is my child,” Amelia went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And it’s his, too. If he wants to be involved, I won’t stop him. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. All it would take is a DNA test and any court would give him visitation rights.”

“All it will take is some money.”

There was a different tone in her father’s voice now. Amelia thought she heard an undertone of desperation. She’d never disobeyed him so blatantly before. To her surprise, under the nervousness, she felt good.

“Ask him, Amelia. Ask him right now and make sure he knows I’m serious. Ask him how much it will take to pay him to ride off into the sunset.”

“My dad wants to buy you off,” Amelia said, looking up at Ethan.

He laughed humorlessly. “Sure, let’s work something out. How about a million dollars and my kid?”

“Hear that?” Amelia asked into the phone. “This is going to happen, Dad. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“You can!” Gregory said and there was no denying the desperation in his tone now. “Amelia, just come home. Maybe...maybe I have been too hard on you. I’m willing to let you come and go a little more as you please. Willing to give you a little more freedom. I...we can talk about the engagement to Anthony. Maybe we’re rushing things. I’m sure Governor Barlow would understand.”

Amelia put her head in her hand, fighting the urge to laugh. If she laughed, it would dissolve into tears and she didn’t want to cry anymore. “Dad. You were rushing things a month ago. It’s too late now.”

“No, sweetie, it’s not.” His voice was calming now, a tone she remembered from childhood. It very nearly weakened her resolve because it had been so long since she’d felt soothed by him. “I know you’re scared and you think this is the right decision, but just because he’s the baby’s father doesn’t mean he’s going to be a good dad. He’s never going to be able to provide anything. Do you really want to raise your child in a world with no opportunities?”

Amelia’s voice was firm. “I could help provide those opportunities, too.”

There was a long pause and she could almost hear her father swallowing his words. The soothing tone seemed to be a struggle for him now. “Amelia. I know you think you’re capable of doing that, but you have no idea how the world works. You’ve never even managed your own money!”

“And whose fault is that?” she demanded. “I begged you to let me have some control! I’ve been asking if I could get a job since I was sixteen! I’ve wanted you to let me...” she broke off. A list of all the ways she’d wanted to be a functioning adult would take much too long. “This is pointless. I’m not going to deal with it right now. Ethan and I have things to work out and that’s all there is to it.”

“Amelia May Stratton, don’t you dare disconnect this call!” Gregory boomed. “Get home where you belong before you make a fool of me and end up getting yourself hurt!”

Amelia ended the call, shaking. She tried once again to hold back the tears, but they poured down her cheeks anyway. She covered her face with her hands and let the sobs shake her.

Ethan pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t let him get to you,” he said in a low voice. “You’re doing the right thing.”

She only cried harder. The worst part, even worse than having her lack of money and profitable skills rubbed into her face, had been the prediction that she was going to get herself hurt. She hadn’t needed to hear that. She knew it was true. It was actually the only thing she was sure of. She felt more for Ethan than she’d ever felt for any man in her life. She was teetering on the edge of falling in love with him and she would always just be the woman he got pregnant. Amelia pulled away, wiping her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I should go.”

Ethan eyed her. “Go where?”

“I... I guess a hotel.” If she could figure out how to pay for it. Amelia chewed her lower lip. Maybe Gregory hadn’t cut off her credit cards just yet.

“Don’t be stupid. You can just stay here.”

She caught her breath. Was she wrong? Maybe she was. He had kissed her earlier, after all. Before he found out about the baby. And he’d held her twice since then. Maybe--

“You can have the bedroom,” Ethan went on. “I’ll stay out here on the couch.”

Her heart sank. “Oh. No, I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine.”

He caught her upper arm and steered her down the short hall. “I’ve got shirts in that drawer over there if you want something to sleep in and you know where the bathroom is,” he said brusquely. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“Thanks,” she said, feeling a little hollow.

He only nodded and closed the bedroom door behind him. Amelia stripped off her clothes and pulled one of his shirts on. Then she slid down into sheets that smelled like him and closed her eyes, even though she knew sleep wasn’t going to be easy to attain.

Chapter 16

Ethan

Ethan sat down on the couch and turned the television on, making sure to lower the volume more than he normally would have. He didn’t want to keep Amelia awake, but there was no way in hell he would be getting to sleep anytime soon. Not with her in his bed and her kiss still lingering on his lips.

Why in the hell had he kissed her? He’d been so furious with her that he saw red at first. But...she’d seemed so broken. And he was drawn to her like a magnet. Even now, with all the worry he felt about the club and about the fact that, in less than eight short months, he was going to be a father, he was thinking about her. She was alone. In his bed. And engaged to someone else. He couldn’t forget that part. If he let that part go, even for a second, he’d do something stupid.

She’d stood up to her father...sort of. But she hadn’t broken the engagement. She hadn’t even mentioned breaking it off. Ethan rubbed his forehead. It was late and the day had been shitty for her. Hell, for both of them. But...if she were planning to dump this Anthony guy, wouldn’t she have said something? He wanted it to be first on her list and fuck it if it was selfish of him.

His restless thoughts took a different turn. Maybe he should be happy that she was going to marry someone else. Anthony Barlow was rich. Or, at least, his father was. Why not let the guy give his kid everything Ethan couldn’t? He could provide the nice clothes, the good school. He could give the kid a college education without student loans. Ethan could stick to funding meals at McDonald’s when it was his weekend and buying the kid a motorcycle when it hit time to ride. So why not?

The answer came swiftly and easily. Because it felt as wrong as sandpaper on a sunburn, that was why. He pictured leading that empty life. Amelia and her husband would pull up in their sleek new car, making all of his neighbors stare. Amelia would get out and hurry up to the door, rushing the kid along so they didn’t take up too much of the governor’s son’s precious time. Places to go and people to see, of course.

She would look tired, the way she had when she’d opened the door for him tonight, all the light in those vivid green eyes dimmed by being someone she wasn’t. Then what? Would they have to have an awkward catch up conversation? No, she probably wouldn’t stay that long. She’d kiss the kid, tell them what time she’d be back for pickup and be gone, off to be the good Stepford wife.

Ethan didn’t want that for her. Hell, he didn’t want that for any of them. He didn’t want someone else spoiling his kid. He didn’t want anyone else providing for his kid at all.

And, he might as well admit it: he didn’t want anyone else in bed with Amelia. He had no right to be so possessive of her. She was clearly going through a lot. That was why he’d held himself back when she flung herself into his arms earlier when all he’d wanted to do was scoop her into his arms and carry her down the hall. He wanted to make love to her until she looked at him the way she’d looked at him that night together. He was addicted to that look. Pleasure hazed shock. God, he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head since.

His phone rang, shaking him out of the reverie. Ethan glanced down at the display and didn’t recognize the number. He answered it quickly, eager for something to take his mind off of Amelia. Usually, only members of the club called this late and he was almost hoping someone was having engine trouble. Anything to give him something new to focus on. Hopefully something that would be a real son of a bitch to handle. It would help to have something to funnel the rage into.

“Hello?” he said.

There was a slight pause and then a cultured voice spoke. “This is Representative Gregory Stratton.”

Ethan smiled grimly. Pompous ass. This was perfect. He was already spoiling for a fight.

“Okay,” he said, stretching his legs out and leaning back. “And just what the fuck do you want?”

“I want my daughter to come home,” Stratton said flatly.

“Yeah,” Ethan drawled. “Shouldn’t you be talking to her, then? I’m not her keeper.”

There was another pause, this one slightly longer. “I’m unable to get in touch with her. She’s turned her phone off.”

Ethan didn’t bother to hold back his bark of laughter. “Sucks to be you, Stratton.”

“Representative Stratton,” the man corrected furiously. “I can make this so much harder for you, Billings.”

“You think so?” Ethan asked curiously. “Because I kinda think you’ve played your hand already. You probably won’t be able to get the rest of the government to agree to exterminating us.”

“These laws,” Stratton went on, ignoring Ethan’s provocation. “They don’t have to be so stringent. At least, not on your particular club.”

Ethan snorted. Was Stratton really trying this? It was insulting to his intelligence. “Right. I don’t know if you know this,Representative Stratton, but laws tend to apply to everyone.”

“They don’t have to, Mr. Billings. Not when you know the right people.”

The slick suggestion in the other man’s voice got under Ethan’s skin. In addition to insulting his intelligence, Stratton was insulting his honor. “I think we’re done here,” he said.

“I’m glad to know your club doesn’t mean anything to you,” Stratton hissed.

“I’m glad to know you still think you can bargain for a grown woman’s freedom,” Ethan replied, losing the tenuous grip he had on the ragged remains of his temper. “I’m not holding her here, you dumbass. She came back with me because she wanted to do the right thing! I guess that doesn’t make any sense to you, since you’re bending every goddamn law that you’re not already breaking, but she seems to be actually be a good person. Maybe you should take a fucking hint, you son of a bitch. I’m not crooked like you, and I’m not gonna bargain my kid away!”

“You have my number when you change your mind,” Stratton said tightly. “I promise you, I can make this very--”

Ethan disconnected the call, his hand tightening on the phone until his fingers ached. Losing his temper had felt good for a few moments, but he didn’t get his frustration out completely and now had no outlet for it. He normally went for a ride when the walls closed in on him like this, but he didn’t want to leave Amelia alone in the house. Not when he’d just antagonized her father so badly, anyway.

Guilt began to creep in around the edges of his anger as he thought about what Stratton had said. What could the man do to the club? Ethan really couldn’t think of anything that would hurt them more than the laws Stratton was already pushing for. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something up Stratton’s sleeve. If the conversation had proven anything, it was that the two men were complete opposites in how they ran their lives.

His own father had been so proud of The Angel’s Keepers. It had given him a purpose, a reason to keep living on the straight and narrow even once he’d lost all hope of ever seeing his son. And now Ethan might lose it all because of his own kid.

Ethan rubbed his hands over his face. His eyes were gritty with exhaustion, but he was too wired to get the sleep he needed. Was this really what his father would have wanted? He couldn’t believe Marcus would have valued the club over his kid...but he had valued the club a lot. There had to be a way to have both. There just had to be.

“Ethan?”

He looked up and saw Amelia standing in front of him. His tee shirt hung down nearly to her knees, but he didn’t think she was wearing anything under it. He had to swallow hard before he could answer her.

“Yeah, Amelia?”

“I wasn’t listening on purpose,” she said. “But I couldn’t help hearing what you said just now. I just...I wanted to say thanks,” she said. She looked down at the floor and then back up at him. “For standing up for me. It really means a lot to me.”

“You stood up for yourself,” Ethan corrected. “I just didn’t sell you out afterward.”

She looked stunned for a second and then a quick smile flashed over her face. “I guess that’s true. Anyway...thanks. For not selling me out.”

“No problem.” He waited, just looking up at her. If she asked him back to the bedroom with her, there was no way he’d be able to tell her no. Her breasts pushed against the black fabric of his tee shirt in a mind numbingly sexy way and he could see her nipples starting to bud in the cooler air.

“Goodnight,” she said quietly, and walked back down the hall.

Ethan waited until he heard the bedroom door close behind her before he fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He had to be at work in a few hours and he wasn’t sure he was going to manage to get any sleep. At least, not as long as he kept envisioning her gorgeous legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Chapter 17

Amelia

Amelia woke up the next morning surprised by how well she’d slept and how comfortable she felt. Ethan’s bed felt...right. She finally knew how Goldilocks must have felt. She smiled to herself as she snuggled in under the blankets again. Slowly, as she woke up more and more, she realized how late she’d slept and how quiet the house was.

A glance at the clock on the small bedside table told her that it was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. So where was Ethan? And why hadn’t he woken her up long before this?

She sat up slowly, testing the waters. Mornings could be a little tricky. Her stomach tightened briefly, but she managed to breathe through the initial nausea. Once everything had settled back to where it was supposed to be, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and waited a second or two more. Just as she was about to get up, she noticed a note beside the clock.

The paper was slightly ragged from being ripped out of a spiral bound notepad, but Ethan’s handwriting was neater than she’d expected. It was a hurried scrawl, but very readable. She shook her head at herself. It was a bad infatuation when a girl got giddy over a guy’s handwriting.

Amelia-

I didn’t want to wake you up. I had to go into work, but I’ll make sure to be home around six. There’s some food in the fridge, but call me if there’s anything you want or need.

Ethan

She glanced down at the edge of the paper and saw the number written there. There was also another small note, scrawled more quickly than the one at the top.

I guess you know your old man better than I do, but be careful. Stay inside. I’ll see you tonight.

He was worried about her. Or he was worried about the child she carried. Either way, she walked to the shower with a spring in her step. For the next eight or so months, they were pretty much a package deal anyway.

The shower didn’t take as long as Amelia had hoped. When she was dressed again, she discovered she still had around four hours to fill before Ethan would be back. She put her hair in a quick bun and wandered out into the living room.

It felt slightly awkward to be alone in his house. She didn’t feel like she had the right to dig around, but she also didn’t want to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall until six o’clock. There had to be something she could do and there had to be something it was okay for her to look through.

Not that there was a lot to look through anyway, even if she had been feeling a bit nosey. Ethan had the basic furniture, a couch and a coffee table in the living room in front of the television on the wall. There was a low bookcase against the opposite wall with paperback detective novels piled in it haphazardly. There were also car and motorcycle guides that were dog-eared and smudged with greasy fingerprints. A row of DVDs filled the bottom shelf. She glanced through and found a good mix of action and comedy.

He seemed like such a normal guy. And he was neat, too. The things in the bookcase weren’t exactly stacked and alphabetized, but they weren’t dusty. And the floor she was kneeling on looked like it was vacuumed fairly recently.

Amelia discovered that she was smiling just thinking about him. Smiling in that lovesick way she’d seen other women smile when they talked about their boyfriends’ most minor traits. As if a man taking out the trash without asking or bringing a forgotten lunch by the office was the same as him planning a romantic flight to Rome or proposing on top of the Eiffel Tower. She’d probably had the same smile when she’d read Ethan’s note.

She pushed herself upright. There was no sense in getting all worked up. He was letting her stay temporarily because he had a personal interest in making sure she was okay. They’d seen each other a grand total of twice. It didn’t make sense for her to feel this way about him. He certainly wouldn’t be feeling this way about her.

Logic failed her as she remembered the kiss they’d shared last night. His hands had cradled her face gently, even though the rest of him had been tense with anger. He should have intimidated her, with his big muscular body caging her in when they’d spoken out on the deck, but instead desire like lightning had flooded her whenever he was close.

The woodsy smell of his soap, the clean scent of his skin, the warm leather of his vest...it all combined to make her weak in the knees. And she thought he at least wanted her as badly as she wanted him physically. All that remained was whether he planned to do anything about it.

She walked back into the bedroom and turned her phone back on with a sigh. Missed calls flooded the screen. There were over twenty from her father. There were three from Anthony, too, which surprised her.

She hadn’t even thought about him since Ethan had walked through the door. She’d have to call him and arrange to give his ring back sometime soon. He wouldn’t want Ethan involved in their married life, at least not in such a public way.

Her stomach rumbled, but this time it seemed to be hunger. She turned the phone off again, tossed it onto the bed and headed to the kitchen. She knew she needed to work everything out, but right now she needed space more than anything else. And a snack.

A quick perusal of the kitchen told her Ethan didn’t eat at home a lot. She settled for a bowl of cornflakes and the last of the milk. It was two days out of date but it still tasted okay, so she went for it.

She sat down and watched mindless television while she ate, being sure to avoid the news and gossip stations. She doubted the news had broken yet, but if they were talking about her already, she didn’t want to know about it. The cereal was gone too soon and she was left with nothing to do after she washed out the bowl and put it away.

Ethan was probably right when he told her she should stay in the house, but she chafed at the restriction. She could have gone to the grocery store and had a nice dinner ready when he came home. That would be both impressive and time consuming. Then she realized that, even if she’d been able to leave, she didn’t have any money. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away as she stood up determinedly.

She turned her phone on again, saw three more missed calls from her father, and then sent Ethan a text.“Would you mind stopping at the grocery store on your way home?”

The reply was almost immediate.“What do you need?”

Before she could answer, she got a call.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Ethan said. “On second thought, just text this guy and tell him; he’ll deliver it.”

Her cheeks heated up. “It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. I...”

“No, I know there’s pretty much nothing to eat there. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t have any money to give him,” she explained, trying to hold onto her confidence.

“I’ve got it,” Ethan answered. “He’s joining The Angel’s Keepers, close to getting his colors. He’ll be happy to help. He’s a tall guy, blond hair. He’ll be riding a Harley and his name’s Connor Smith. I’ll tell him to show you his license.”

Amelia stood there in silent surprise for a moment. He’d thought of every single contingency and way to keep her safe. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing. Don’t forget to text me when he gets there.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Bye.” She disconnected and then hurried to make a grocery list.

She texted it to the number Ethan had sent her and got another nearly instant reply.“Should be there in about 45 minutes. If you think of anything else, just text me again. It’s no problem.”

Amelia settled herself on the couch with one of the detective novels, hoping to kill some time while she waited for the grocery delivery. She soon found herself engrossed in the story to the point that the knock on the door nearly made her drop the paperback. Her heart pounded, but when she looked out of the small window, she saw a tall, blond guy on the small porch. There was a shiny red motorcycle parked on the street.

“Connor?” she asked, when she opened the door. “Come in.”

He didn’t step forward. Instead he held out his driver’s license where she could see it easily. “Ethan would kick my ass if you didn’t check the license,” he said with a smile.

Amelia took it, feeling slightly embarrassed. The picture matched the man and the name was Connor Smith.

“Thanks, I forgot about that part,” she said, handing it back. “And thanks for doing this, by the way.”

“No problem,” he said easily as he followed her to the kitchen and began unpacking the backpack. “Here.” He handed her the bag on the very top. “Eggs.”

Amelia watched him as he unloaded the pack and slowly realized how much she’d asked for. “I’m really sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I guess this wasn’t easy to get all of this here on a motorcycle. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Connor said with a grin as he dug down into the pack, checking all the nooks and crannies. “All right, I think that’s everything. I’ll head out, but Ethan says if you need anything before he gets home, you can call me and let me know.”

“I think this is fine,” Amelia said. “Thanks a lot, though. I hope you weren’t doing anything important.”

“Nah,” he said, walking back through the living room with her. “I work from home, so I get to make my own hours.”

“What do you do?”

“Graphic designer,” he answered. “I’m in the middle of a huge website redesign, so a chance to get out from behind the desk was great.” He held his hand out. “It was good to meet you, Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said with a smile. “And good luck with the site.”

He walked out and she watched him ride away before she closed and locked the door. Yet another perfectly normal member of a motorcycle club. For a moment, she wished her father had been there to meet him. Maybe then he’d see they were just people like anyone else.

She shook her head, her hand trailing down to rest on her stomach again. She doubted there was anything anyone could do to change her father’s opinion about The Angel’s Keepers now.

As she began mixing ingredients for the chocolate pie she’d planned, she thought back to what she’d overheard of her father’s business meeting. Should she tell Ethan? She chewed her lip. What could he do? The sad answer was nothing. There was nothing legal that he could do about any of it. She didn’t think he’d try anything illegal, but she didn’t know for sure. They just didn’t know each other well enough yet.

She tried to tell herself ] it was better not to talk to him about it, but that didn’t ring true. Amelia sighed and pushed it away. Like everything else in her messed-up life, she’d decide what to do about this later.

# # #

“It’s me,” Amelia heard Ethan call from the living room several hours later.

She grinned as she put the last glass on the table and the oven timer dinged. Her timing had been perfect.

“I’m in here!” she called back, eager for him to come in and see what she’d done with the money she’d spent.

Ethan stepped into the kitchen and looked around his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he sniffed the air. “Something smells good. Hell, something smells great.”

“Pork tenderloin with a peppercorn rub, au gratin potatoes, green beans, ginger carrots, and a chocolate pie,” she said proudly as she leaned back against the counter casually, trying to project the air that she cooked big meals every day. “Sit down and eat.”

“Give me just a second to get cleaned up,” he said, holding up his dirty hands for her to see. “I’ll be right back.” When he walked past her to the bathroom sink, he pulled her against him, being careful not to get her clothes dirty, and kissed the top of her head. “It all sounds great, Amelia. Thanks.”

She glowed with pride as she put large helpings of everything on his plate and set a bottle of beer down beside it. She’d considered getting a bottle of wine, but she couldn’t drink it and he didn’t exactly strike her as a wine drinker.

When he came back, hands and face scrubbed clean, his slightly damp hair pushed back off of his face, her heart ached slightly. Would it be like this every day if they were together?

“Tell me what you think,” she said after he’d taken several bites. She couldn't take the suspense anymore. It tasted good to her, but what if he hated it?

“It’s good,” he said, opening his beer. “I guess you can tell I don’t cook.”

She shrugged. “I don’t get to cook at home either.”

He took another bite of potatoes and then pointed at her plate. “Then where’d you learn to do all of this?”

She took a sip of her water. “My friend Aubrey.”

“I like her already.”

Amelia smiled. “You would, I think. We met in middle school. When I got to go to her house, we’d always make dinner. Her mom worked and her dad was in the Marines, so he was gone a lot. And Aubrey really liked to cook. She couldn’t believe I didn’t know how, so she taught me a lot.”

“Tell her thanks next time you see her,” Ethan said as he put more carrots on his plate.

“I will. She lives in Texas now, though, so it might be awhile.”

“What about your other friends?” Ethan asked.

Amelia looked up at him, wondering how to answer that question. “What do you mean?” she asked instead of trying to come up with something.

“Well...I mean...do you need to let them know where you are? What’s going on?” He gave a shrug. “I talked about myself a lot last night, and I don’t know a whole hell of a lot about you. I’m trying to fix that.”

She cleared her throat. If she didn’t make her tone as matter of fact as possible, she was going to come across as incredibly pathetic and that was the last thing she wanted. “Well...the fact is...I don’t really have a lot of friends other than Aubrey. I know a lot of people, but most of them are the daughters of my father’s political acquaintances. I don’t really want to deal with them right now. All they would want is gossip.”

Ethan nodded. “Has your father called?”

“Yes.” Amelia got up and took her plate to the sink. “I haven’t answered, though.”

She brought the pie back to the table along with two tall glasses of milk, which made Ethan smile.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s just...it’s been a fucking long time since I’ve had a glass of milk.”

“It’s good for your bones,” she said firmly.

“Tell me something.”

“Like what?” His eyes seemed to search her in that way that made her feel nearly naked. It wasn’t the way she wanted to be naked with him.

“Anything,” he said. “I just want to know more about the woman I’m having a kid with. I told you about my family last night, why don’t you tell me about yours? Is it just you and your dad?”

Amelia nodded, concentrating more than she really needed to on cutting slices of pie. “My mother died in a car accident when I was three,” she said quietly. “Drunk driver. I was in the car with her. It nearly killed me, too. I was in the hospital for over a month. I broke a lot of bones and had a lot of stitches.”

“Is that where the scars come from?” Ethan asked matter of factly, holding out his plate for a piece.

Amelia’s face flushed. So he had noticed them. “Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t remember not having them. I just have to miss out on the bikinis,” she tried to joke.

“They’re not anything to be ashamed of.”

She looked up at him and found him watching her closely.

“I don’t mind them,” he went on. “And you’d be sexy as hell in a bikini, scars or not.”

Amelia dropped a piece of pie onto her own plate, trying and failing to hold back her relieved grin. “Well, maybe I’ll have to have Connor bring me one tomorrow,” she said lightly.

“Like hell,” Ethan said. “There’s a few things I’d wanna be the one to take you shopping for and that’s definitely one of ‘em.”

She laughed, scooping up a bite of pie.

Ethan turned serious again. “I guess that’s why your old man was so protective,” he said. “Nearly losing you when you were just a kid.”

“That’s part of it,” she admitted. “A bigger part of it is just the fact that he’s a controlling man. And he’s in the public eye. He wants to look a certain way.”

Ethan nodded. “Makes sense. The only other question is, what the hell did we poor innocent bikers do to him?”

Amelia remembered Richard’s voice.That’s what we’re paying you for. “I don’t know of anything,” she said trying to match his light tone. “Maybe he’s jealous of your awesome jackets.”

“Couldn’t blame him there,” Ethan agreed. “But if he wants colors, he’ll have to work for ‘em just like the rest of us.”

Chapter 18

Ethan

Ethan watched as Amelia started stacking dishes. “You don’t have to clean up,” he said, finishing his glass of milk and joining her at the sink. “I’ll get it in a little while. You cooked.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t ask me to,” she protested. “It’s my mess, I can--”

“I ate two helpings of everything,” he pointed out. “I think that earns the chef a break.”

“I really don’t mind. You’ve been at work all day.”

“So have you,” Ethan countered, gesturing at the food. They were going to have leftovers for a few days and he was already looking forward to taking some of it for his lunch tomorrow.

“What are you, some kind of feminist?” Amelia demanded with a grin.

Ethan laughed. “You got me.” Her green eyes were sparkling and he wanted to kiss her so badly, he ached. “Now, get out of here and let me prove it.”

“No way,” she said. “We can clean this kitchen like equals, can’t we?”

He pretended a very heavy sigh and swatted her gently with a dishtowel. “Fine, if you really wanna steal my thunder.”

Amelia began to fill the sink with hot, sudsy water and Ethan gathered the rest of the dishes. He stacked them neatly on the counter beside her. Then he leaned around her to wet a cloth to wipe down the table and sink. He caught her scent and his body immediately registered the heat of hers. He knew he needed to back up, but God, he didn’t want to. This was the closest they’d been all day and his body relaxed at the small contact with hers. She fit him so well.

She leaned back against him and he dropped his head to the curve of her neck, following it with his lips. She was irresistible, even if he had no idea what was going to happen between them in the future, or how she really felt about him. She might want nothing more than some support in a scary time. He was beginning to discover how much more he wanted.

She turned in his arms and raised her chin. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I’ve missed kissing you so much, Ethan.”

He couldn’t have told her no if his life depended on it. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her lips all day. He covered her mouth with his own, teasing her tongue with his until she moaned into his kiss.

“Come to bed with me tonight,” she murmured against his lips. “I don’t want to sleep in there without you again.”

“Baby, if I take you into that room, you won’t be doing much sleeping,” he said roughly. He needed her to know what she was getting into.

Her arms tightened around him as her eyes went bright. “Good.”

He swept her up into his arms, making her squeal and laugh, and then carried her down the hall. Ethan kicked the door open and dropped her gently onto the bed. Then he looked at her. Amelia Stratton, looking breathless, her gorgeous green eyes shining with excitement and laughter. In his bed, where he’d been dying for her to be again for almost two months. In his bed, where she belonged.

She sat up and reached for him, pulling him down onto the bed with her, but he didn’t push her back onto the mattress again. Instead, he knelt over her, gripping the back of her neck, taking her mouth until she gasped against his. Her hands gripped his t-shirt as he continued the kiss greedily.

God, he’d wanted her. A warning sign went off somewhere in the back of his mind. This was more than simple want. This was need, pure and simple. He ignored it, threading his fingers through her thick red, gold hair and tugging her head back, exposing her neck and kissing his way down it before closing his teeth over the sensitive spot at the side.

“Oh God,” she moaned and he felt her body strain toward his.

With him kneeling over her, curving his body down to hers, there wasn’t much she could do to touch him. He wanted to keep her that way for the moment. He wanted her wanting him, needing him right back. He’d be damned if he were the only one dragged down into these feelings. He’d find a way to take her with him, a way to make her his.

She tugged at the t-shirt he wore and he let her go only long enough to yank it off and toss it over his shoulder. Her hands swept down his chest, but he gripped her wrists, moving her hands behind her back and holding them with one of his own. Then he settled in at her neck again.

“You taste so damn good,” he said against her skin. “I wonder what you taste like everywhere else.”

Still holding her hands behind her back in that easy grip, he began unbuttoning the shirt she’d worn that day. It was one of his and it looked just as right on her as she looked in his bed. He kissed every inch of skin he exposed, feeling her catch her breath when he got to her breasts. They were just slightly fuller than they’d been before and, apparently, a bit more sensitive. Her nipples were rock hard, pressing against the thin fabric of her bra already. He hadn’t even touched them yet. She pushed up, presenting her breasts to him in a silent plea and he took one of those nipples between his teeth through the bra. Her head fell back, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, tickling the arm he had behind her back. It was like silk.

“Oh, not too hard,” she whispered.

He flicked open the front clasp of her bra and dragged his tongue over the nipple he’d been a little too rough with. “Better?”

Her only answer was to move forward as much as she could, so he took it as a yes. He circled the hard point with his tongue before drawing it back into his mouth, teasing her with long licks. She was squirming on the bed now.

“Gettin’ impatient?” he asked.

“Yes! Ethan, please, I need you to touch me!”

He grinned. “I am touching you, baby.”

She squirmed again. “Not here...I...”

“Oh, you don’t like it?” He moved back up and pressed his lips to hers again. “Maybe I should just stay up here.”

She moaned in desperation. “No!”

He laughed. “Then I guess you’ll have to tell me what you want. I’m not a mind reader.”

“You are such an ass sometimes,” she gasped.

“See?” he said, lightly pinching the nipple he’d been ignoring. “You’re already saying what’s on your mind. What’s the problem with telling me what you want?”

“I want you inside me,” Amelia managed to say.

“Too bad,” he said, ducking his head once more. “I said I wanted to know how you taste, remember?” Ethan waited long enough for her eyes to widen in surprise and excitement and then he let go of her wrists and pushed her back onto the pillows. “Hold onto the headboard,” he said. “No hands yet.”

When she did as he asked, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and tugged them down. He left her panties on for the moment, kissing his way down her thighs, making her tremble. He dragged his tongue up her inner thigh and went just under the edge of her panties. She jerked slightly and he saw her hands tighten on the headboard. When he pressed a kiss to the center of her, over the panties, she jerked again.

He glanced up at her, realizing something suddenly. “Nobody's ever done this to you, have they?”

A flush highlighted her cheekbones as she shook her head. “No.”

Ethan grinned at her. “And here I thought we were done with firsts.”

He stripped the underwear off and then hooked his arms underneath her legs, spreading her open to him. “Last chance to say you don’t wanna do this,” he offered fairly.

“No,” she said quickly. “I... I want to see what it will be like.”

“Remember to hang onto the headboard,” he advised.

“Why can’t I touch you?” Amelia asked.

“It’s not that,” he answered, letting his grin go wicked. “It’s just that you’re gonna need something to hang onto.”

Her giggle was cut off by a cry of pleasure when he pressed his mouth to the heat between her legs. He ran the tip of his tongue up her tight clit and held her down firmly when her body bucked upward.

“Oh my God,” she gasped out. “Do that again!”

He indulged her, focusing solely on her clit, which was plumping up just a bit more, swelling with her arousal. He brought her to the very edge of an orgasm and then pulled back, raining kisses on her thighs again while she trembled. He was holding her too tightly for her to arch up the way she was clearly desperate to and he enjoyed the whimpers and moans she gave as her body drew back from the precipice.

Then he started in again. She was more sensitive this time and he took advantage of it, sucking her clit a little more roughly. Amelia choked back a scream and gripped his shoulders.

He pulled back once more. “Hands on the headboard, baby.”

“I think you get off on the control,” she said, gripping the bed until her knuckles went white.

“No, I just don’t want you drawing blood before I fuck you,” he answered, making her mouth drop open. “Be good and I’ll make you come this time.”

Her legs, which had gone tight, loosened up and he lowered his head, licking her slowly and gently. Her head began to toss on the pillow. He dragged his tongue up her slit, loving her taste.

“You said you’d let me come this time!” she reminded him raggedly.

“Yeah, but I didn’t say it’d be fast.” He gave her another leisurely lick while she writhed under him. “Do you know how long I thought about doing this to you?”

“You...” Her voice caught on a pleasured moan when he slid a finger into her soaked pussy. “You did?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered against her skin. “And, baby, it’s even better than I thought it would be. You taste damn good here, too.”

His cock was throbbing, jerking, rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans with every beat of his heart. He was dying to sink into her. She was even wetter than she’d been their first night together and all he could think about was how tightly she fit him. He’d get every inch slick in her arousal and then he’d fuck her as hard as he dared.

But first, he wanted her to come. It wouldn’t be difficult. She was on the razor's edge of it, her pussy soaking his fingers, her hips pumping now that she had a bit more freedom to move. Amelia was panting, half begging him to let her come.

Ethan pushed his fingers deeper, letting her fuck them while he sucked her clit between his lips, lapping at it quickly with his tongue. She screamed to the ceiling, her body jerking wildly as she came on his fingers. He used his free hand to keep her steady, licking her and licking her, wanting every drop of her delicious orgasm.

She let go of the headboard and dragged him up over her, her fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “I need you,” she said breathlessly. “God, I need you so much.”

Ethan was happy to oblige. He smacked her hands out of the way, shoved his jeans down and grabbed her around the waist as he rolled over. He came to a rest on his back with her straddling him. He gripped her hips, lifted her, settled her over his cock.

Amelia slid down slowly, letting him fill her. It was his turn to grip the headboard. She needed to get used to him again. He needed friction and heat. Her eyes, still heavy with pleasure after the orgasm he’d given her, scanned his body with admiration. He couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at him like that.

“You’re so sexy, Ethan,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse. “I can’t believe I’m the one who shares your bed.”

She rocked forward, seating him deep. He bit his lower lip, tightening his hands until the headboard dug into his palms.

Amelia leaned down, her hair curtaining around the kiss she gave him. He returned it desperately, needing a distraction from her tight heat. Her lips traveled down, doing the same thing to him that he’d done to her. His hips jerked up off of the bed, shoving his cock deep when she sucked firmly at the hollow of his neck.

She moaned. “It feels so good when you go deep like that.”

He loved it when she got so abandoned that she didn’t worry about talking dirty. “Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked roughly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Her smile was soft. “It’s fine, Ethan.”

He brought his hand down on her ass, smacking it just hard enough to sting. Her eyes widened in pleasure.

“Then ride me,” he said. “I remember you being damn good at it.”

She sat up, working her hips slowly at first, driving him crazy with frustration. But when she got into her rhythm, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Ethan grabbed her hips, steadying her so she could take him as deep as she wanted him. The slick friction sent pleasure spiraling through every nerve he possessed.

She was moaning steadily now, cupping her own breasts and teasing her nipples. Ethan reached around and began to rub her clit with his thumb. She began to ride him more quickly, her head falling back again as she gave into the next rise of pleasure.

“Yes, Ethan, yes!”

He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing her say his name. She was working him like a pro now, her body perfectly in synch with what he needed to come. Even the first time hadn’t been this good. If it kept getting better, he probably wouldn’t survive it. But fuck, what a way to go.

“I’m going to come,” she cried out. “Oh, God! God, yes!”

She tightened like a vice and Ethan’s own orgasm took him by surprise.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt it begin. “Ah, fuck, Amelia....don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.”

She rode him hard as he came deep inside her. “I can feel it,” she whispered. “I can feel you coming.”

He groaned again at the amazement in her voice. When she’d wrung him dry, he wrapped her in his arms and dragged her down to his chest, staying inside her as long as he could while they caught their breath.

# # #

Eventually she shifted off of him, so Ethan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close against his side. She cuddled in, draping her leg over him and resting her head on his shoulder. They both caught their breath slowly.

It was perfect. Ethan wished he could just go to sleep, holding her like that. But there were still questions tumbling through his brain. Too many of them to let him sleep.

What were they going to do next? What about her father? Why hadn’t she told him about the baby? Would she really have let him go his whole life never knowing he had a kid?

The last one was the one that haunted him the most; it was the answer he had to have to move forward. The rest was incidental. If he trusted her, they could get through the other bullshit. But he had to be able to trust her first.

“Amelia?”

“Mmm?” she murmured, clearly more than half asleep already.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the baby when you found out?”

She didn’t speak for a few moments. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. “I told you before. I was scared,” she said honestly.

He felt his jaw clench, but he tried hard to keep the anger out of his voice. “Because of your father and his shit about motorcycle clubs?”

To his surprise, she shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that. It was everything else. What would you say? Would you tell me to get rid of it? Would you laugh at me? Tell me it was my problem? Tell me I should have been more careful? Can you tell me honestly that none of that would have crossed your mind?”

Ethan cupped her cheek and laughed a little ruefully. “I guess we both should have been more careful,” he admitted. “And it would have shocked the hell out of me. Itdidshock the hell out of me, so I don’t really know what I would have said if it had been just the two of us in the moment.” He reflected for a second, trying to imagine hearing it from her instead of her father. “I don’t think I would have been a dick about it, though. I wouldn’t have tried to force you into anything you didn’t want to do.”

“I probably would have broken the news a little more gently than my dad did,” she said with a small smile.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” He wasn’t aware he was holding his breath until his lungs started to burn. This was the question that would determine whether they could stay together. He knew that he couldn’t forgive her if she’d really planned to hide his child from him for the rest of their lives.

Amelia sighed heavily. “I thought I wasn’t. But honestly...I don’t think I could have kept it from you the whole time. It felt more and more wrong every day. I would have broken down sooner or later.”

He studied her face, searching for any sign of a lie in her words.

She met his eyes squarely. “I don’t know how to handle anything in this situation,” she admitted. “And I know I’ve screwed some things up. I just hope you give me the chance to fix them. I want us to be honest with each other from now on.”

Something that had been tight in his chest relaxed and he pulled her forward for a kiss. She returned it eagerly, clearly relieved.

“If we’re gonna go ahead and be honest,” Ethan said, running his fingers through her hair. “Then I have to tell you that I still don’t have any idea what you wanted that night.”

“Freedom,” Amelia answered promptly. “Dad was pushing me about going out with Anthony, threatening to cut me off, reminding me I wouldn’t get anywhere without him. The walls felt like they were closing in.” She nested in the curve of his arm again. “I felt like I could see my whole life playing out. The good political wife, heading up meaningless charity drives for buzzword causes, never making enough waves to matter. Never really doinganything.”

“So you headed for a biker bar?” Ethan just couldn’t figure that part out. “I mean, hell...you could have gone anywhere.”

Amelia shrugged. “I thought if I was going to spend the rest of my life being good, I wanted to be really bad for one night. It was the most daring thing I could think of.”

Ethan laughed dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s cute.”

She smacked him in the center of his chest lightly. “Are you making fun of me?”

His eyes sparkled in the low light. “You’re damn right I am, baby. You’ve got the Vegas strip a few hours away, and you headed for The Hole.”

“I believe in supporting local businesses,” she said loftily, pleased when he laughed again.

“And so you walked into a biker bar, got everyone’s attention, and--”

“I didn’t geteveryone’s attention,” she said with a laugh. “Just you and that creeper.”

“The hell you didn’t. I was there. I saw it.” When she didn’t reply, he drew back and looked down at her. “You walked in like you owned the place; don’t act like you don’t know you’re sexy.”

“I was too scared to look at anyone,” she admitted. “I just kept my eyes on the empty stool at the bar and went for it.”

Ethan shook his head, amazed that she’d been unaware of all the eyes on her. “Trust me, everyone noticed you. Michael and I just happened to get there first. You could have had your pick that night.”

“I did,” Amelia said shyly.

Ethan continued to run his fingers through her long hair, sifting the silky strands between his callused fingers. “And then I went and knocked you up,” he said, feeling more than a little guilty about it suddenly. She’d been so naïve. “When all you wanted was some freedom.”

Amelia looked at him. “I wasn’t going to be free anyway,” she reminded him. “At least this way...” She put her hand on her stomach. “Well, I don’t regret anything about it.”

Chapter 19

Amelia

Amelia rubbed her temples and sighed. There was a headache building just behind her eyes. Probably from the sheer weight of the stress she was putting herself under. It was a little early, but she was tired of wandering aimlessly around Ethan’s house while he was working, so she’d decided to get one of the baby related tasks that was nagging at her out of the way.

So, with a fully charged phone and a sheet of paper, she’d sat down at the kitchen table and prepared to make a list of all the things she would need to buy before the baby came, complete with prices and name brands. She’d been working steadily for nearly an hour and the list was much longer than she’d ever thought it would be. It was also astronomically more expensive than she’d planned.

She’d started simple enough, or at least she’d thought she had. The baby would need a crib. Once she looked up the crib, she had to find a mattress, and after that she spent a long time looking at the different crib sets. The pink and white frilly sets caught her eye, but the black and white minimalistic ones were apparently supposed to help develop the baby’s vision. She’d had no idea about that. And hadn’t she heard about babies suffocating under those cute little quilted crib bumpers? She was pretty sure she had.

And they’d fallen out of certain high chairs, strollers, and swings, too, at least according to reviews and recalls. It didn’t seem like any equipment was safe. When she looked up bottle sets, she found arguments about the superiority of breastfeeding. When she looked up nursing bras, she found complaints about loss of sex drive and sex appeal.

The research that was supposed to ease her mind and calm some of her fears was getting more than a little depressing. Not the least of which because she had no idea how she would pay for all of it. Ethan’s salary hadn’t been discussed and she didn’t want to ask. Not when the income difference between him and her father was so obvious.

Amelia’s phone rang, breaking the quiet of the room so effectively that her hand jerked, making a huge dark mark on her paper. She glanced at it warily; she really didn’t need a call from her father to underscore her fears.

She nearly knocked her phone off the table in her eagerness when Aubrey’s number popped up for FaceTime.

“Aubrey!” Amelia’s undisguised relief made her friend catch her breath.

“Amelia, what’s wrong? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days. I was really starting to worry.”

“I’m sorry,” Amelia said. She and Aubrey typically spoke on the phone every five days or so and usually messaged back and forth daily. They hadn’t spoken since she’d left with Ethan.  “I don’t have my laptop right now and this is the first time I’ve turned my phone on in a few days. I guess the missed calls from Dad buried yours.”

“Why are you missing calls from your dad?” Aubrey asked, picking up on the last sentence.

“I...” Amelia couldn’t think of a good excuse and suddenly she was tired of trying. Aubrey would find out sooner or later anyway. “I’m pregnant.”

Aubrey made a sound halfway between an exclamation and a gasp.  Amelia waited patiently while her friend sputtered out half questions.

“Did you say...you said...you’re...with...Oh my God!” Aubrey took a breath. “Okay, important questions first, Aubrey,” she muttered, clearly talking to herself. “What does Anthony have to say about it?”

Amelia felt a small flash of amusement. “It’s not his.”

“What?” she blurted out. “Did you just say you’re pregnant and it’snotAnthony’s baby?”

“That is exactly what I said,” Amelia confirmed. “I’m pregnant, and it’snot Anthony’s baby. There’s no chance it’s even his baby, to tell the truth.”

Aubrey blinked, staring at Amelia through the phone. “I... I don’t even know what to say, Amelia.”

Amelia was suddenly nervous. “What do you mean?” Was Aubrey going to say the same things that her father had said? She didn’t think that she could handle that kind of rejection from her friend. That was the biggest reason that she hadn’t wanted to tell her. Amelia knew how the story sounded. Pregnant by the guy she’d had a one-night stand with and engaged to someone else. Her face burned.

“What do you expect me to say?” Aubrey demanded. “First you tell me you’ve been seeing some guy and you think it’s getting serious.” She held up her hand, counting on her fingers. “Then you completely fall off of the face of the earth. Now you’re telling me you’re pregnant. And you’re also telling me he’s not the father!” She leaned back in her chair, looking completely shocked. “I’m completely at a loss here. Why didn’t you talk to me before?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into it,” Amelia said, even more worried when she saw the hurt look on her friend’s face. Of everything she’d thought that Aubrey would say or feel, she hadn’t expected this.

Aubrey pushed her hands through her short, pink hair and sighed. “Amelia, seriously? It’s not like we’re casual acquaintances or brunch buddies. We’refriends. Hell, it’s more than that! We’rebestfriends. I’mhere to be dragged into stuff like this.”

“No you’re not!” Amelia protested. “You’ve got enough going on. The move, the new job--”

“None of that is as important as you,” Aubrey said firmly. “I’m coming up. Where are you staying?”

“What? No, you really don’t need to do that. I’m doing fine.”

Aubrey didn’t even bother to come up with a good argument. She simply raised an eyebrow and said, “Come on. Are you in a hotel?”

“No, I’m staying with Ethan.”

“Baby daddy?” Aubrey asked.

“Well...yes.”

“Tell me Ethan’s address, then. I’m coming up.”

“You don’t have to--”

“But I’m going to,” Aubrey said. “I’ve worked a lot of overtime and put out a lot of fires here lately. They can let me go. Now text me that address before I have to track you down, because I swear that I will. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Amelia sent her the address without any further argument. It was pointless, for one thing. For another, she really didn’t want to argue any more. She was so happy at the thought of Aubrey’s visit that she felt tears gather in her eyes.

“So,” Aubrey said once she’d gotten the address. “Tell me about the guy.”

“What guy?”

“The President of the United States,” she answered with blistering sarcasm. “Who do you think? The guy you’re going to have a baby with. The one who seduced you away from a life of political boredom. Unless he’s a politician, too, in which case, I want you to forget I called it boring.” She smiled, flashing the dimple in her right cheek that made her look so impish.

“He’s not a politician,” Amelia said. “He’s a mechanic. But you weren’t far off when you said the president thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He’s the president of a motorcycle club called The Angel’s Keepers.”

Aubrey’s eyebrows soared. “Well, well. There’s nothing like a complete 180 from your previous type.” She paused thoughtfully and then went on. “Or did you really even have a type before? It’s not like you ever did a whole lot of dating. Not even in college.”

Amelia shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I really didn’t.”

“Why not?” Aubrey asked. “I mean, I never really thought about it...but clearly you’re into some guys, so what was the deal?”

“It was probably because I always figured I’d end up with a politician, so that’s what I usually went for. And actually, I didn’t even go for them, I just settled for them. It turns out I prefer guys with calluses, scruff, and leather jackets.”

“What woman with good vision doesn’t?” Aubrey asked with a grin. “So, tell me more about him. All I know is his name and that he got you pregnant.”

“He’s thirty years old and he--”

“Cut to the chase,” Aubrey cut in. “We both know what I’m asking is whether or not he’s good in bed.”

“Aubrey!”

Aubrey grinned unrepentantly. “I mean, I’m going to assume he is, but come on. Wenever do this.”

“This, what?”

“The girly talk about sex.”

“Before Ethan, there wasn’t much for me to say,” Amelia protested.

“And now you’re twenty-three and you finally have some experience so spill!” Aubrey ordered. “You only have to say as much as you want, but you’ve got to give me something.”

“He’s amazing,” Amelia said.

“Okay, I lied. You have to give me a little more than that.”

Amelia felt her face flush hot. “Well...um...he’s got stamina and imagination and he’s bigger than average.”

Aubrey laughed. “There we go!”

“He’s good out of bed, too,” she went on, getting into the spirit of the thing. “He brings fries home every night because I’m craving them like crazy lately. He also got rid of all the mustard in the house because for some reason the sight of it makes me want to hurl. And he’s so tall, Aubrey. So damn tall.”

“Very nice, indeed,” Aubrey allowed. “You’ll give me more of the story when I’m there, right? Because I love the fact that he’s tall and hot and sweet, I really do, but I still have no idea how this happened and I need more information because I want to help.”

“I will,” Amelia promised. She chewed her thumbnail, feeling guilty for ever doubting her friend. “Aubrey...I really am sorry. I should have told you.”

“Hey,” she answered seriously. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Amelia. Despite the conversation we just had,” she said, flashing that dimple before growing serious again. “I just want you to know I’m here. I feel like you could have used me over the past few months. You’ll probably need me even more once you really get into all of the baby stuff. Have you gotten an ultrasound? Found a gyno? How’s your insurance?”

Amelia stared at Aubrey blankly and her friend laughed. “See?This is why I’m here. Helping women plan this stuff is literally my job.”

Amelia wiped away sudden grateful tears. “Thanks, Aubrey. It really means a lot to me.”

Aubrey grinned. “I’m not going to comment on the hormone-induced tears either, because that’s how good of a friend I am.”

They were both laughing as they ended the call. Amelia took a long moment to simply be grateful to her friend before she tackled the baby supply list once more. She felt like she could face it now.

# # #

When her phone rang again later in the day, Amelia paused, looking at the name on the screen. Her first instinct was to ignore it and finish finalizing the list she’d completed earlier. Then she reached out, picked up the phone, and answered that call, too. After the conversation with Aubrey and knowing Ethan was on his way home, she was probably never going to feel much stronger than she did now. And it was time to have this conversation.

“Hello, Anthony,” she said.

“Amelia,” he answered, clearly caught by surprise. “I didn’t actually expect you to answer.”

“Then why call?” she asked bluntly.

He paused and she imagined him gathering his thoughts. He wasn’t used to people challenging him. Too bad.

“Mainly because your father keeps calling me and asking me to do it. He said you’re back together with that biker guy. The one who got you pregnant.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re back together.” For that matter, she wasn’t sure she and Ethan had ever been together. They’d been sharing a bed for a week now, but she’d been too worried to try to define the relationship with him. But Anthony didn’t need to know any of that. “It’s a little more complicated than that at this point.”

“Then why aren’t we going out anymore? You’ve shown up in the press. At the moment, it’s just little gossip column things about us not being together, but we both know it will get out of hand when they find out you’re pregnant. They’ll be easy enough to get rid of if we’re seen together soon. We’ll just say it’s my baby.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear so he couldn’t hear her snort. Easy as pie, just cut her child’s father out of her life. And in his world, it was that simple. Amazing that it had been her world, too. “And that’s the whole point to you, isn’t it? To be seen together? Is that really the only reason you called?”

“There’s no sense in getting emotional,” he said, already sounding distracted and bored with the conversation. She wondered who he wanted to be texting at the moment. “You always knew what this was, Amelia. Don’t act like it’s a surprise now.”

“I was aware our parents set us up, but I wasn’t sure how you felt about it,” she said honestly. “If it was just for show, I would have appreciated us all being on the same page.”

“I can understand that,” Anthony said negligently. “Your father didn’t want you to know because he was afraid you’d run off if you understood that our relationship wasn’t real. And I guess he was right.”

“Why don’t you lay it all out for me?” she asked, trying to slow her breathing down. Anger was flooding through her, making her breathing ragged. She didn’t want him to know he was upsetting her.

“Okay. It doesn’t bother me to be seen out with you. You’re not my type, but I think this could be beneficial for us both. I won’t ever question you about who you fuck or where you go as long as you keep it out of the public eye. My dad owed yours a favor. He wants the debt paid; I want him off my back about my sex life. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”

Amelia blinked. “Oh.” It had been abundantly clear that she wasn’t Anthony’s type, but she hadn’t known that Governor Barlow owed her father a favor. “So you didn’t ever plan for us to be...together?”

“God, no,” he said quickly. “I never planned to have a... for lack of a better term... real relationship with you. And, as I said before, I’m not going to expect you to stay faithful to me either. You can have other relationships if you want. Not that Ethan guy, because that’s probably already too public...but other relationships. That would be fine with me.”

Amelia laughed bitterly. “You really think I would do that, Anthony?”

“I don’t see why not. You said you weren’t exactly back together.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t allow him to be in his child’s life!”

“Oh, so you decided to keep it.” He didn’t sound the least bit interested in that either. “I really don’t understand why you would. I told you the tabloids haven’t gotten hold of that information yet.”

She heard the door open and watched as Ethan walked in. He stayed quiet when he saw that she was on the phone, but she could see the curiosity in his eyes. Oddly, seeing him calmed her down.

“Yes, I have,” she answered Anthony. “And you don’t need to worry. I’ll be sending your ring back as soon as I can.”

“I guess it’s your mistake to make, Amelia.”

“No,” she corrected firmly. “It’s my decision. And it’s already been made.”

“You know,” Anthony said, sounding really annoyed for the first time, “you don’t have to sound so happy about this.”

“I’m just relieved to know you didn’t want to go to bed with me any more than I wanted to go to bed with you,” she said, happy to let him have a taste of his own medicine. “Good luck finding someone who wants a political partnership with you.” She hung up before he could reply.

Ethan stood leaning against the doorframe. “I guess that was Anthony. Unless you had some other guys on the line that I didn’t know about.”

Amelia stood and they walked into the kitchen together. “Yeah, that was Anthony. I’m going to be sending his ring back as soon as I figure out how.”

“Okay,” Ethan said carefully. “How do you...you know...feel about that?”

“I was supposed to marry him,” Amelia said helplessly. Now that the conversation was over, she realized exactly what she’d done. One more bridge back to her old life, and her father’s approval, burned. “But it’s not like we loved each other. And I’m having a baby with a different man.” She spread her hands. “I’m not sure how to feel, to be honest.”

“Well....” Ethan said slowly. “Since we’re the ones having the baby, you could always marry me.”

She stopped and stared at him in wide-eyed shock. A part of her was screaming with excitement, jumping up and down, relieved and exalted. Another part was frozen, waiting for him to say that more than duty had prompted his proposal.

But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything else; he just watched her. The silence filled the small kitchen until she felt it pressing in on her ears.

“I... I don’t...” she finally stammered out. “I don’t have any idea what to say to that right now. We...we hardly even really know each other.” And that had just occurred to her somehow. Her mind was suddenly spinning with all the things that she didn’t know about him. How could she marry him? On the other hand, how could she not?

Ethan held up a hand. “It’s fine. You’ve got time; there’s no pressure. Just think about it. Meanwhile, do you want to go down to HQ with me tomorrow? I’d like to show you around.”

“HQ?” Amelia was still too thrown from the fact that he’d proposed as casually as he asked her if she wanted pizza to think clearly.

“Headquarters,” he said with half smile.

“Oh!” She rubbed her temples, trying to get herself together. “I’d love to...oh, wait,” she interrupted herself. “I actually can’t. My friend is coming up.” Then she realized she hadn’t actually asked Ethan how he felt about meeting Aubrey yet. She didn’t want to make plans for him. Not when she wasn’t sure what they were. “Um, she wants to meet you, by the way.”

“When’s she coming up?”

“She’s driving up from Texas in the morning,” Amelia answered. “It’s about eight hours away, so she probably won’t be in until around five. She’s not exactly an early riser.”

Ethan nodded. “Sounds fine to me. And we’ll have time to go to HQ before if you’re into it.”

“Don’t you have to go to work tomorrow?” She hardly saw Ethan with the amount of overtime he’d been putting in. And from the list of baby necessities, she wasn’t about to complain.

“Not tomorrow,” he said. “I wrangled the day off.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Just to show little old me around?” she drawled in her best attempt at his slight accent.

“The accent needs work,” Ethan informed her. “But yeah, basically. I thought you might want to see what I do when I’m not at work.”

She put her arms around him. “I’d like that a lot.”

Chapter 20

Ethan

“So, this is it,” Ethan said the next day. “The Angel’s Keepers’ headquarters. What do you think?”

Amelia looked at the building. It was a brick and metal building, slightly on the small side and pretty unassuming. Not exactly where you would expect supposed drug dealing sex traffickers to hang out. She’d expected more neon, given the type of bar she’d met him in.

“Is there anyone here now?” she asked as he held the door open for her. She wasn’t sure she was ready to meet a bunch of people.

“Probably not,” Ethan answered, not bothering to tell her that was a big reason he’d picked this particular time to show her around. “Most of the guys are either at work right now or they’re getting ready to go to bed.”

Amelia gave him a questioning look. “Getting ready to go to bed? It’s nine in the morning.”

“A few of the guys work nights,” Ethan explained. “Well, lay it on me. What do you think of the place?”

Amelia looked around, struggling for something to say. “Well...it looks...it looks...nice.”

Ethan quirked an eyebrow. Amelia raised her hands in a defensive sort of surrender.

“I’m sorry!” she said. “I’m just kind of thrown by all of this, actually.”

“Why?”

“Because it all looks so normal! I expected...”

“Hookers and blow?” Ethan supplied when she trailed off. “That’s the next room. I’m glad you don’t mind.” He couldn’t help but chuckle with her eyes darted to the closed door to their right. “I’m just teasin’ you, baby. That’s just the garage.”

“What’re all the papers on the desk?”

Ethan glanced over. “Tax forms, membership roster, dues paid and owed, a sheet telling me just how fucked we are money wise, other bullshit like that.”

“It all sounds so legitimate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s probably because it is.”

She flushed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I knew it was different from what my father said it would be. But I guess I thought it might be more...I don’t know...”

Ethan gave her a slow grin. “A little more dangerous?” he supplied. “Did you picture motorcycle outlaws riding the desert, taking what we want? Whiskey and women and wild ways? That kind of thing?”

“Sort of,” she said, raising her chin defiantly when he walked closer. “That’s how it always looks on television. Maybe this life isn’t going to be as exciting as I thought. You’re going to have to step this up.”

“I don’t think now’s the best time to start dealing,” he said, brushing his knuckles over her stomach as his mouth curved. “Maybe I’ll wait ‘til after the baby’s born to join the one percenters.”

His mouth closed over hers deliciously. Her head was spinning when he drew back, and she gripped the front of his vest to keep her balance.

“I could get you a leather jacket and put one of those ‘property of’ patches,” he teased. “What do you think? Good way to let everyone know that you’re mine.”

She smacked him in the center of the chest. “I’ll wear one if you wear one, too,” she challenged, making him laugh.

“Want to see my other baby?” he asked, linking his fingers through hers and pulling her out to the garage before she could say yes or no. “You’re really gonna love this.”

A very rusty bike sat on a ripped and stained tarp in the corner. Amelia’s gaze slid right past it as she looked for something that would make Ethan that happy. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her in against his side.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked.

“What?” Amelia asked in confusion. “Who?”

“The bike,” Ethan said, sounding confused too. “Right there.”

“That...does it even run?” It didn’t look like it possibly could. At least, not without falling apart completely.

“Not yet.” He walked closer, touching the bike as gently as a surgeon would if he were performing brain surgery. “But, baby, she’s gonna purr like a kitten when I’m done.”

“Where do you even start?” she asked, still amazed at the idea of taking something that broken down and actually riding it at some point.

Ethan sighed heavily. He’d hardly gotten anything done. “With a lot of patience,” he admitted. “Actually, I’m thinking of moving her back to our--the house. I’d have more time to work on her there. Do you care if I pack some stuff up before I show you the rest of the place?”

She liked the idea of him being around more in the evenings. She liked his slip of the tongue even more. “No, go ahead. Is it all right if I wander around while you work, though?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

She walked back into the main part of the headquarters and over to the glass case she’d noticed when they first came in. There was a black leather jacket inside it. It was hanging so the back of the jacket faced out. She saw The Angel’s Keepers’ patches. Colors, she corrected herself. Ethan had called them colors. Then she noticed the name. Marcus Billings.

This was Ethan’s dad’s jacket. There were other things in the case, as well, a belt buckle rested on one of the small shelves inside and there were a few articles and things in frames. Her gaze kept returning to the jacket, though. The leather looked soft from wear, especially at the wrists and collar. He must have practically lived in the thing. Did Ethan wear his own jacket that much? He usually wore a vest, but it was still summer. Maybe he had a butter soft leather jacket of his own in a closet somewhere.

“Hey there.”

She gasped and spun around quickly, startled. The man who’d walked in so quietly gave a short bark of laughter. It wasn’t exactly a friendly sound. She thought that there might be a smile playing around his lips as she pressed her back to the case and tried to catch her breath, but his beard and mustache made it hard to tell. If there was a smile in that salt and pepper tangle, it sure as hell didn’t reach his eyes.

He was just as big as Ethan, but there wasn’t any warmth coming from him. In short, he was an intimidating presence and she found herself shrinking even further backwards. Should she call for Ethan?

“I’m not gonna hurt you, girlie,” he assured her, his voice cigarette rough and his tone slightly sarcastic. “I’m William. The Sergeant at Arms for The Angel’s Keepers. That’s my buddy’s jacket you’re eyein’.”

“Oh, you knew Ethan’s dad?” Amelia asked, feeling herself relax slightly. She gave the man a smile, hoping to make up for the way she’d practically screamed for help a second ago. She really didn’t want to offend anyone here.

Anyway, it should have been obvious that he’d known Ethan’s father. He wasn’t exactly old, but he was clearly a good bit older than Ethan. He also had that dangerous air she’d teased Ethan about earlier. She slightly regretted it now and she found herself glad that Ethan was easier going.

“Yep,” William said, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops and looking at her appraisingly for a moment. “I’m guessin’ you know Ethan, too.”

There was a hint of suggestion there, but Amelia decided not to take offense. Not just yet, anyway. She’d see how the rest of the conversation progressed first. “I do,” she said evenly. “I’m Amelia Stratton.”

His expression changed so rapidly that she was tempted to take another step back. With her back to the glass case, though, there was nowhere else to go.

“State Representative Stratton’s daughter?” he asked, his voice low and furious.

She swallowed hard and pulled herself up as tall as she could, trying not to look as intimidated as she was. “Yes,” she answered.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath. Then in a louder voice, he asked, “Where the hell is Ethan?”

“He’s in the garage,” Amelia answered quickly.

She was sorry he was mad and she wished there was a way she could redirect the man, but she was too eager to get him away from her to think of anything believable. Her knees began to feel shaky. She’d never been looked at with such venom before. “He’s going to take the bike back to—” But William was already turning, heading for the garage. When the door closed behind him, Amelia walked over and sank down on the couch, trying to catch her breath.

# # #

“Hey, William,” Ethan said, wiping the grease off of a wrench and then dropping it down into the tool bag he planned to put in his saddle bag. “I was wondering if you--”

“What the hell is that jackass politician’s daughter doing here?” William demanded, cutting him off.

Ethan sighed. He’d known William wouldn't take Amelia’s presence well, but he’d hoped for better than this. “I’m--”

“An idiot,” William cut in fury burning in his tone. “What in the fuck were you thinking? Jesus Christ, Ethan, she--”

“She’s pregnant,” Ethan said flatly.

William’s jaw dropped. Ethan went back to packing up his tools, trying to calm his heart rate. Getting into a brawl with William wouldn’t help anything. He had to keep reminding himself of that. This really wasn’t the way he’d wanted anyone to find out, but what else could he have said? William was never going to let it go.

“Are youshitting me?” William demanded after a few moments of silence.

“No,” Ethan answered, zipping the back closed. “I’m completely serious.”

“And you...hell I don’t even know. What are you doing? Gonna play knight in shining armor just because you took her home one time?” William stared him. When Ethan didn’t deny it, he slammed his hand against the wall. “Jesus, do you even know if it’s yours? She left the bar with you after a whiskey and a dance!”

“Watch it.”

“Then make some damn sense! Her father is trying to destroy us. Everything your dad worked for! Everything I fucking worked for! And you’re playing goddamn house with some whore you--”

Ethan dropped the bag on the floor and stepped over, getting in William’s personal space and staying there, looking the other man directly in the eyes. “I said to fucking watch it, William. Do not test me on this.”

William fell back a half of a step. “Maybe you should watch it, too,” he said. “I think it’s about damn time for you to figure out what’s more important here.”

Ethan stared at him. “What are you talking about, man? Are you saying I need to choose between this club or my kid? Jesus, are you really asking me that?”

“I’m asking you what your dad would have thought of you just letting all of this die. Especially just so you can play around with some woman who’s going to leave you the fucking minute the fun of disobeying Daddy runs out.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?” Ethan demanded.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t she?” William bellowed. “What do you think you have to keep a woman like her interested?”

“We’re having a kid together!”

“Yeah, your old man had a kid, too,” William said scathingly. “And look what happened with that. Get your head out of your ass and pay attention!”

There wasn’t anything Ethan could say to that argument. Hell, what did he have to offer a woman like Amelia? It wasn’t like she’d jumped at his proposal. Maybe she was already having second thoughts. Suddenly, he was exhausted. “We need to talk about this later, man,” he said tiredly. “There’s no point in doing this right now.”

“There’s no point in any of this,” William corrected. “I’m takin’ a break.”

Ethan felt winded, like he’d been sucker punched. “What do you mean, you’re taking a break? You’re a founding member! You’re my Sergeant--”

“Yeah, and you probably just put the last nail in this coffin.”

“William!” Ethan called after the other man when he turned and walked out. “Come on, man, this is insane!”

He didn’t even turn back. He just shoved his hands into his pockets, hunched his shoulders into the wind and walked over to his bike. Ethan pushed a hand through his hair, wondering what else could go wrong and what the hell he was supposed to do now. Then he saw Amelia standing in the doorway. Tears were seeping down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin.

“Shit,” he growled. He’d known that she would be able to overhear some of what was said, but he hadn’t known that she was there listening. “Were you there the whole time?”

She shook her head, trying to wipe her cheeks and succeeding only in smearing her tears around. “Only since he called me a whore.”

Ethan walked over and pulled her against his chest. Her body began to shake as she cried harder. He really wanted to chase William down and rearrange the other man’s face for him. “I’m sorry, Amelia.”

“Is that what they’re all going to think of me?” she asked between sobs. “Are they all going to be like that?”

“Not if they want to keep all their teeth, they’re not,” Ethan said grimly. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”

“I thought you wanted to get the bike,” she whispered.

“I can get it later.” He didn’t feel like hooking the trailer up to the old but still serviceable truck they kept in the back. “Come on, we’ve gotta get the place cleaned up a little before your friend comes over. Also, I thought that you might wanna go shopping.”

She followed him out quietly. “You don’t have to buy me stuff.”

“Maybe I just want you to quit wearing my shirts,” he said, trying to keep it light. When she didn’t react, he tilted her chin up. “Hey. It’s just one guy and his one jackass opinion. I’ll hunt him down and kick his ass if you want.”

A hint of a smile played around her lips. “No, that’s okay.”

“You think I can’t take him?”

“That’s not the problem.”

“If you change your mind, let me know,” he said, only half joking. “I’m definitely in the mood for it.”

“It’s okay. You still stood up for me,” she realized. “You always do.”

“And I always will,” he promised, realizing that he meant every word of that. “Now get your helmet on and we’ll go get you something to wear. And maybe we can get some Chinese food for lunch, too. I’ve got a bad taste in my mouth.”

She slid onto the bike behind him and moved in close, letting herself be comforted by his heat. William’s words had stung, but Ethan’s had been like a healing balm. It would be a long time before she wasn’t hurt by it, but he’d done exactly the right thing. She was just sorry that she’d complicated his life so much.

Chapter 21

Ethan

“Hey, you must be Aubrey,” Ethan said, opening the front door in response to the brisk knock.

“That’s me. And I guess you’re Ethan.”

“You guessed right.”

He stepped to the side so the woman could walk inside. He and Amelia had only just gotten back from a day of wandering the town aimlessly. Amelia had picked up a few outfits, but he’d been able to tell her heart wasn’t in it. His anger at William burned brighter.

“Amelia wasn’t looking for you to get here until around five,” he went on.

“I’m early because I didn’t stop anywhere for lunch,” Aubrey said. “So I seriously hope that having dinner is a big part of the plan for the evening.”

Ethan gave Aubrey a swift appraisal as she stepped into his house. Fluffy pink and blonde hair stood straight up on top of her head, leaving no distractions from her oval face. She had a direct gaze that seemed to take everything in at a glance and a mouth that looked like it normally curved easily into a smile.

She was wearing a plain green t-shirt and a pair of worn in jeans. The red converse sneakers on her feet were even more worn than the jeans. She surprised Ethan, but it was a pleasant surprise. There had been far too few of those lately and he felt a surge of gratitude as he looked at her.

He’d been afraid that he was going to be inspected by a flighty socialite. The woman was about as far from that description as a person could be and he found himself warming to her immediately.

“We can do that,” he assured her. “Anything you want in particular?”

“Lots and lots of pizza,” she answered promptly. “Every pizza place I drove past called my name on the way here.”

When Amelia appeared, Aubrey gave her a smile and opened her arms. “You’ll figure out pretty quickly that I’m not fancy like this one here,” she finished as the two of them hugged.

“Oh, bite me,” Amelia said, but Ethan was pleased to see a bit of the sparkle return to her pretty green eyes.

“I just might if we don’t make some moves in the direction of the nearest pizza place,” Aubrey assured her, faking seriousness. “I want it cheap, fast, and greasy.”

“I could hook you up with a few of my mechanic buddies,” Ethan said without thinking about it. The minute he’d said it, he wondered how she would take it. The last thing he wanted to do was tick her off, too.

Aubrey grinned, revealing a cute dimple. “A few might be a lot to start with,” she replied in that same dry tone.

Ethan’s relieved laugh ended on a whoosh when Amelia smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand.

“Ethan! And don’t you encourage him,” she ordered, pointing at Aubrey. “He doesn’t need it.”

“I promise nothing,” the other woman said loftily. “I assume I’m driving?”

“Uh, I guess so,” Amelia agreed, looking at Ethan’s bike. “I doubt all of us would fit on that.”

“Yeah, because let’s face it, even if you have a side car, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to be getting in it,” Aubrey said. “Now, can we pretty please get this show on the road?”

“Sure,” Ethan agreed. They’d had Chinese not long before, but he could go for some pizza.

Soon enough they were sitting in a booth, chowing down on the greasiest pizza on Ethan’s side of town. Aubrey’s eyes were closed in abject pleasure as she chewed a mouthful of cheese, bread, pepperoni, sausage, onion, green pepper, and pineapple. Ethan was watching in fascination.

“You’ve gotta admit that is a weird combination,” he said to Amelia. She’d been totally calm about it and that was flipping him out.

She shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.” She turned to Aubrey. “Where are the anchovies and the mushrooms?”

Aubrey swallowed. “I’m off anchovies now,” she informed them. “It’s no fun if you’re not grossing people out and--”

“Everyone got used to it?” Amelia guessed.

“Exactly.” Aubrey polished off her first slice and then wiped her mouth. “Okay, Ethan. Tell me all about yourself.”

She trained that intense gaze on him and he suddenly felt the need to tell her where he was the night of June 28th and everything else that he could think of.

“Aubrey,” Amelia said in a warning tone. “Don’t freak him out.”

“The pizza already did that,” Ethan said.

Aubrey waved her hand. “Oh, come on. We all knew I was going to grill the guy. That’s why I’m here. It’s the obligatory best friend, ‘you hurt her and I hurt you right back’ speech.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Ethan admitted. “But I’ve never seen it in action.”

“Then you’ve been dating girls with crappy friends,” Aubrey said flatly.

Ethan picked up his own slice, loaded down with all the meat the establishment offered. “It’s a possibility,” he acknowledged. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Job,” Aubrey said.

“I’ve got a steady job at a mechanic shop fixing everything that rolls in. I manage the place when they rope me into it. I do okay, money wise.”

“Anything crazy in the romantic past? Stalkers? Crazy ex-wives? Insane ex-lovers waiting to boil your pet bunny?”

“I avoid that trap by not having a rabbit.”

Aubrey nodded. “Smart man.”

“Also, I’ve never been married, and my stalker got bored and moved on to someone more interesting,” he added, reaching over for a slice of Aubrey’s pizza. He took a cautious bite. It wasn’t half bad.

“Okay,” Amelia said. “This conversation is getting weird. Why don’t you two get to know each other through normal human interaction instead of pointed questions and witty rebuttals?”

“Hey,” Aubrey protested. “He gets called witty and all I get is pointed?”

“Wittypointed questions,” Amelia corrected herself.

“I guess we could do that,” Aubrey allowed.

“So does that mean I get to ask what you do?” Ethan questioned, taking another bite of the pizza. It was really starting to grow on him. He wondered how it would be with mushrooms and anchovies and decided he’d chase that rabbit another day.

“I work at a crisis pregnancy center,” Aubrey answered.

For some reason that struck them all as very funny. The rest of the meal was much more relaxed.

# # #

“All right,” Aubrey said when they were back at Ethan’s house. “I know that this is your place, Ethan, but I need you to get out for a while so Amelia and I can talk about you. Go and do guy things.”

“Fair enough.” He’d figured he was going to get thrown out at some point. There just weren’t any real places to have a private conversation in his small house. He gave Amelia a kiss on the cheek. “If you two need me, I’ll be drinking with the guys and belching the alphabet.”

“Well?” Amelia demanded the minute the door closed behind Ethan.

“Well?” Aubrey repeated.

“Don’t mess with the pregnant woman,” Amelia said emphatically. “Tell me what you think of him!”

“He’s okay. Tall, dark, and handsome,” Aubrey answered dismissively. “Let’s get something to drink. All this desert air has really dried my throat out. I don’t know how you stand it; I don’t remember it being this dry when I lived here.”

“Aubrey!” Amelia followed her friend into the kitchen.

Aubrey stretched up and got two mugs down out of the cabinet. “Mmm?”

“Come on!”

Aubrey grinned. “Okay, I can see that you’re about to lose it. He’s got a little bit of an edge. I meant the tall, dark, and handsome thing, but he’s taller and hotter than I pictured when you told about him. He’s also got a pretty decent sense of humor. The accent is a little bit delicious and so are the eyes. In short, I like what I see and I think he’s a nice guy. You could do worse.”

“I’m so glad you like him! He asked me to marry him.”

Aubrey’s lips parted and she stared at Amelia for a moment. “Okay. Now I think he’s all the things I just saidand I think he’s a little crazy.”

Amelia chewed her thumbnail. “You do?”

“Um. Yeah! Don’t you? For Pete’s sake, Amelia, how long have the two of you even been official?”

“I’m not exactly sure we are,” Amelia admitted, more than slightly embarrassed to have to admit it.

Aubrey smacked her coffee cup down on the kitchen table and stared at her. “Oh my God! Okay, I’m putting my foot down. I absolutelyrefuse to allow you to marry this man, Amelia Stratton!”

“Okay, I’ll tell him,” Amelia agreed meekly.

Aubrey was a real force to be reckoned with. She sighed. “All right, clearly we need to get down to the heart of the matter here. Sit down.”

Amelia dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. Aubrey pulled out the chair next to her and sat down beside her, taking her hand.

“The first thing I want you to do is stop looking at me like I’m going to start screaming at you any second,” she said gently. “Next, I want you to tell me why you think Ethan asked you to marry him.”

Tears sprang to Amelia’s eyes. That was the heart of the matter, right there. “Because he has to. Because I’m pregnant.”

Aubrey’s eyes softened as she squeezed Amelia’s hand. “Honey, I’ve got a very important newsflash for you. You don’t have to marry anyone ever. Whether you’re pregnant or whether you’re not.”

Amelia shook her head, all her worry spilling out. “Yes, I do! I don’t have a job. Or a house, or a car, or any work experience at all! I can’t earn any money on my own! I can’t get a job! I don’t know how I’m going to pay for anything!” The list of baby supplies flashed into her mind. “There’s so much stuff that a baby needs and I have a list that’s close to five pages and it adds up to more than I had ever even thought possible! I have no idea what I’m going to do!”

“Shhh,” Aubrey said calmly. “Okay, we’ll go over the list in a minute or two and I’ll help you out. And so what if you don’t have any of those things? You’re actually worried about getting a job? You have a degree and you were practically at the top of your class. You have drive. You have intelligence. You also have a friend with an extra bedroom in her house.”

Amelia blinked at her. “What?”

“If you want to get away from your dad and you don’t want to marry a guy you barely know, you could come and live with me.”

“No, Aubrey, I can’t ask you to--”

“You’re not asking,” Aubrey cut in with a smile. “I’m offering. That’s different. And after the baby is born, you’ll get a job and pitch in. It’s not a big deal.”

Amelia swallowed hard. “You really don’t think I should marry Ethan?”

“What’s his favorite color?”

She frowned slightly. “What?” Why on earth did Aubrey want to know that?

“What’s his favorite band?” her friend pressed.

Amelia thought, but nothing came to mind. “Um, I don’t know.”

“When did he lose his virginity? Does he drink Pepsi or Coke? Can he drive anything but a motorcycle? Does he work as a mechanic because he wants to or because he has to? What else does he want to do with his life?”

“I don’t know!” Amelia exclaimed, wanting the barrage of questions to stop.

“Don’t you think you should before you marry him?” Aubrey asked gently. “I mean, those questions were just off the top of my head, but there are others that are more important. Political views, religious views...I mean for all you know he worships goats or thinks the world is flat.” Aubrey smiled. “Those last two might be a little farfetched, but they’d be good to know.”

“Okay, yeah, probably. It’s just...” Amelia gave a shaky sigh. “I’m just scared because everything was all worked out a few weeks ago. I thought I was getting married and now I’m returning a ring the size of an iceberg. And now he wants to marry me and it seems like it makes sense. I’m just not sure...I’m...”

“Free,” Aubrey finished. “Now you’re free from those obligations.”

“I know,” she answered. “But it doesn’t feel too great. It’s really scary. I’ve always known what was going to happen and how and when it was going to happen, too. This is all so confusing.”

“Amelia, that’s life,” Aubrey said, her voice blunt, but kind. “It’sveryrare that things work out exactly as you planned or as you wanted them to. I can probably count on one hand the number of things that have done that for me. Things fall apart all over the place. It’s scary as hell,” she said with a smile as she squeezed Amelia’s hands in hers. “But it’s beautiful, too. And you can finally have a life of your own if you just reach for it. I’m here to help.”

# # #

“Hey,” Ethan said casually as he walked into the headquarters of The Angel’s Keepers. “What’s going on?”

He hadn’t really expected to find Jimmy, Taylor, and Ryan there. At least, he hadn’t expected to find them working. They were all gathered around the small desk, though, pens in hand and maps spread out. There was a sheet of paper with a long column of numbers pushed slightly to the side. He was surprised to see it bore no red ink. That was the first time he’d seen that in months.

He was also surprised that none of them looked angry with him. Maybe William hadn’t said anything. Ethan shook his head at himself. Jesus, he sounded like a high school kid. If William had said anything, he’d set the rest of them straight. And if they didn’t like it, they could hit the road just like William had.

“Hey,” Ryan said cheerfully. “I’m glad you showed up. I’ve got good news for you, man.”

Ethan’s tense muscles relaxed. “Oh yeah? I could use it.”

“New membership is way up and all the dues are in,” Ryan said with a grin. “I’m thinkin’ we need to figure out a way to celebrate.”

“Cheaply,” Taylor cut in, ever the responsible treasurer. “We need to figure out a way to celebrate as cheaply as possible so we can keep the lights on.”

Ethan grabbed the other chair and pulled it up to the desk, flipping it around and straddling it, resting his arms on the back. “So what’s the deal with all the maps? Plannin’ a ride for the celebration?”

“We’re trying,” Jimmy said. “We wanted to see what you thought first. And there’s also the political situation. We don’t wanna piss Stratton off.”

“Fuck him,” Ryan said. “His bullshit idea about limiting our rides is just an idea right now. Come on, Mr. President, put in your two cents. If we do a ride, where should we go?”

“Cheap,” Taylor reiterated. “Where should we go that’s cheap?”

Ethan eyed the map thoughtfully, skipping over the more expensive places like Vegas. There was no way they could afford those hotel fees. One of the symbols caught his eye suddenly and inspiration struck like a lightning bolt.

“Valley of Fire,” he said, tapping the map. “It’s cheap as hell and we could camp. Nobody will have to buy anything but food.”

Everyone stared at him. No one spoke. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Are you all too good for it all of a sudden?”

“No,” Jimmy said. “It’s fucking perfect. Why the hell didn’t I think of it?”

“I guess you’re gettin’ old,” Ryan said with a grin.

Jimmy punched him in the ribs. Taylor bent over the column of numbers, ignoring the two of them.

“I’ll see what I can do about a group discount,” he muttered, clearly calculating expenses as he spoke. “I’ll price some stuff for grilling, there shouldn’t be any other fees. If everyone brings a few things....” He scrawled some notes across the expense column. “It’s a rough estimate right now, but it’s doable.”

“We’ll need to get up with Kenny and William,” Jimmy said. “See what they think. I doubt they’ll have a problem with it, but I can--”

“Not William,” Ethan cut in. “Call Kenny for sure, but you don’t have to worry about letting William know.”

That stopped everyone in their tracks. Even Taylor looked up from his calculations, his pencil going still. “What?” he asked.

Ethan decided that the best way to break the news was bluntly. “He said he wants out for a while.”

Jimmy leaned back in surprise as Ryan and Taylor fell totally silent.

“Out for a while?” Ryan repeated after a moment. “What does that mean? For how long?”

“He didn’t say.” Ethan shifted in the chair. There wasn’t any point in hiding it anymore. “He’s pissed off at me.”

“What’d you do?” Ryan demanded.

“I got Amelia Stratton pregnant. He didn’t take the news well.”

“Say what?” Jimmy asked.

Ethan shrugged. “She’s living with me right now, too. And she’ll probably go to the Valley of Fire with us, too. Any problems with it, you need to tell me now, because none of you are gonna treat her like William did and get away with it.”

Taylor rubbed his chin. Jimmy put his papers down. Ryan leaned back in his chair. Ethan watched them.

“Shit,” Ryan finally said. “You couldn’t just take her to dinner or something?”

Ethan laughed. “I did that earlier.”

“You’re playing with fire,” Jimmy said honestly. “But I guess you know that.”

“Yeah,” Ethan acknowledged. “It is what it is, though.”

“And Williamleft over it?” Taylor asked. “Do you think it’s permanent?”

Ethan sighed. “Yeah. He did. I don’t know how permanent it is, but he’s gone for now. The gist of his speech was that he thinks I don’t care about the club anymore. If any of you feel like that, I’d appreciate knowing it now.” He looked around at all of them, bracing himself for whatever came his way.

“I’m gonna go on record and say you’re crazy,” Ryan said after a moment. “But, hey, shit happens. Maybe she’ll be able to give you some inside information on her nutjob old man and--”

“She’s gonna do what she wants to do,” Ethan interrupted. “I’m not with her because she can help with that. And I want to know that you guys are gonna show her the respect she deserves when I bring her here.”

“Sure thing,” Taylor said. “It’s not her fault that her old man’s a dick.”

The other two nodded as well and Ethan relaxed.

“Thanks,” he said simply.

They went back to the budget and the plans without bringing Amelia up again.

Jimmy hung back once Ryan and Taylor had gone home. He leaned back in his chair, looking at Ethan seriously from across the desk. Ethan wondered if he had objections that he hadn’t wanted to bring up in front of the other two.

“Scale of one to ten, how scared are you that she’s knocked up?” he asked after a moment.

Ethan huffed out a half laugh in a combination of relief and amusement. “Ten’s the highest you’re willing to let this scale go?”

Jimmy smiled. “Yeah, I get that. You know how I was when I found out about Hope.”

Ethan nodded. “You freaked out. And you were married to her mother.” He looked down at the black leather of his boots. They were starting to crack; he’d been meaning to get another pair for a while now, but they were just so damn comfortable that he wasn’t willing to replace them just yet. And now he’d need the money for whatever the hell the baby would need.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Jimmy asked.

“Amelia could just head back to her charmed life any second now,” Ethan said. “I’ve got nothing to keep her with me.”

“How likely do you think that is?” Jimmy asked practically.

Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think she would. But how the hell do I really know?”

“How the hell do you ever know?” Jimmy asked logically. “I’m divorced, man. You think I knew Hope and Daisy’s mom was fucking everybody under the sun for three years? You think that piece of paper held her to me?”

“Good point.”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt you to get to know the woman, though,” Jimmy added. “I mean...fuck, this is a little bit crazy.”

“You’re telling me.”

# # #

“Hey, where did Aubrey go?” Ethan asked when he walked back into his house and found only Amelia sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of the tea she’d asked for the last time he’d gone to the store. He’d never been a tea drinker himself, but there was something calming about the scent in the air when she brewed it.

“Oh, I couldn’t convince her to stay,” Amelia said, dunking her tea bag up and down in the steaming water. “She’s crashing in a hotel and then she’s heading back to Texas in the morning. She couldn’t take too much time off of work and flying freaks her out.”

“Short trip,” Ethan commented.

“Good friend,” Amelia countered.

“Yeah, I liked her,” he agreed, opening the refrigerator and pulling a beer out of the back. He twisted the cap off and flicked it into the trashcan. “It’s too bad she doesn’t live closer; it’d be good to have her around more.”

Amelia thought of Aubrey’s offer to let her come and stay with her in Texas. It had been circling in her mind since her friend had left for the hotel. A town where she wasn’t known as a politician’s daughter. Where her father couldn’t watch over her every move. It was an intoxicating thought.

But the thought of being that far from Ethan didn’t seem like fair play. He probably wouldn’t be able to afford a lot of trips down to Texas. And working for starting pay at any job she found wouldn’t give Amelia any extra cash either.

“What?” she asked, getting the sense that Ethan had just asked her something.

“I asked if you’re okay,” he repeated. “You looked kind of down.”

“No, I’m fine.” Silence stretched between them. She rummaged through her mind frantically, looking for something to say to him. It wasn’t like she could tell him that she was thinking about what it would be like to go and live in Texas with Aubrey.

“We’re going to take a ride this weekend,” Ethan said. “We’re planning to camp at the Valley of Fire on Friday and Saturday night.”

“Oh,” Amelia said. She’d be on her own this weekend. She really needed to find a hobby; she was going to atrophy if she had to sit on the couch any longer. “That sounds like it would be fun.”

He smiled, looking relieved. “Good. I’m glad you like the sound of it.”

She blinked up at him. “Wait, I’m invited?”

“Hell yeah, you’re invited,” Ethan said incredulously. “What did you think? That I was just gonna take off and leave you sitting here twiddling your thumbs?”

For some reason, his reaction pissed her off. “How was I supposed to know?” she demanded. “It’s not like I know you! I mean...not really. If you wanted me to go then why not invite me? I’m not exactly a mind reader and I have no idea where I stand in your life!”

Ethan stared at her when she broke off. Where the hell had that outburst come from? “You gonna yell at me every damn time you don’t like how I say what I say?”

“I didn’t yell at you!” Amelia winced when she heard her voice carry through the small room. She hadn’t yelled before, but she was close to it now and she really didn’t even know why. “Why would you just assume that I was assuming the same thing you were?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean! You assumed I knew I was going!”

“Yeah, and what was so wrong with that?”

“There’s nothingwrong with it, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t even know if you want me in the same house, let alone out with your friends! Who, if you’ll remember, seem to hate me!” When he didn’t speak, she crossed her arms. “You don’t have anything to say about that?”

“I was just making sure you were done,” he said. “Okay, yeah. I should have asked you. Sorry.”

His tone was gruff and she wanted to be offended, but she knew that she’d overreacted. “In that case, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said stiffly.

He sighed, pushing his hand through his hair. “Jesus, this is exhausting. We don’t know a damn thing about each other,” he said.

Amelia blinked back tears. “No, I guess we really don’t. But I think it’s worth finding out.”

He gave her a short smile. “Yeah,” he said noncommittally.

“Do you want to go to bed?” she asked, suddenly worried. Had she pushed him too far? She hated the fear that lay in her stomach as she stood and reached for him.

He pulled her against him briefly, but then he stepped back. “That sounds good, but I think I’ll just shack up on the couch tonight. The sex just gets in the way. It’s too damn good with you.”

Amelia looked down at the tabletop as he walked out of the room. Everything had been going so well. They’d been so polite to each other since she’d moved in. She bit her lip.

Was polite the same as superficial? If they wanted to get to the real issues, it might be. It didn’t mean that she wanted to repeat the scene they’d just had, but the extreme, unrealistic niceness would have to stop.

As much as Amelia wanted to ask Ethan to come to bed with her, he was more than correct on that score. The sex made it easy to forget that they didn’t know each other very well. She sighed and walked down the hall.

Chapter 22

Amelia

Amelia rested her head against Ethan’s back when he stopped at a red light. The ride to the Valley of Fire was going to be the most physical contact they’d had since Aubrey left.

It had been a rough, awkward week. She wanted to talk to him, but she had no idea what to say. She couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way, because he’d been working as much overtime as he could handle, barely managing to stumble into the shower and get clean before he fell asleep on the couch every night.

Rough week or not, she planned to soak up all of the contact that she could while she could. As they sat there, the bike thrumming beneath them, Ethan reached back and squeezed her thigh. Amelia couldn’t hold back a shiver. Maybe he missed touching her as much as she missed touching him? She edged slightly closer, pressing her body against his lean back. She saw his free hand tighten on the handlebar.

The light flicked to green and Ethan eased into traffic again. Amelia went back to wondering if they’d forgotten anything. She’d been shocked at how much stuff Ethan had managed to pack down into the saddlebags and the old tan leather bag that was strapped down behind her. It still didn’t seem like enough to get them through a three-day weekend, though.

She glanced to the side and Ryan gave her a thumbs up. She gave him a slight, careful wave. Letting go of Ethan while they were riding still made her nervous.

It was really fun to ride in a pack like this, though. The Angel’s Keepers moved smoothly through the traffic, not holding anyone up or endangering anyone. Just another thing her father had been wrong about.

No matter how much fun the ride was, by the time they pulled up at the Valley of Fire, Amelia was more than ready to stretch for a bit. Ethan handed her a bottle of water after she’d tugged her helmet off.

“Go and take a rest while we get everything unloaded,” he said, pointing to a shaded picnic table. “That’s our site.”

“I can help,” she offered.

“Yeah and you can take a rest, too.” He swept his thumb down the curve of her cheek. “I know it was a long ride.”

She glanced down. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. All I did was sit.”

Ethan put his arm around her shoulders and steered her to the picnic table. “It takes some getting used to. What did you think, though? Did you like it?”

She looked up at him. “I loved it,” she said, happy she could be honest about that. She’d been afraid that she wouldn’t like it, but the freedom and the sound of the wind were downright addictive. His smile at her answer had her heart skipping several beats.

“I’m glad,” he said simply. “Sit down and drink that water. Once you feel better, you can help set up.”

Amelia watched as the rest of The Angel’s Keepers arrived, unpacking their saddlebags and calling a combination of helpful advice and friendly insults to each other. Ryan helped Taylor get his tent set up while Kenny walked over to the grill at the site and lit a fire.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Amelia glanced up at the sound of the voice and saw a pretty brunette standing in front of her. “Hi,” she answered. “Um, good, I guess.”

The brunette smiled. “You don’t have to look so freaked out. I promise I won’t bite,” she said with a short laugh. “I’m Penelope Maxwell, Taylor’s girlfriend.”

“It’s not nice meet you, I’m Amelia Stratton.” She gestured to the bench in front of her and said, “Please, have a seat.”

The other woman slung her leg over the bench and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her riding pants. “You smoke?” she asked, pausing before lighting one of the slim white cigarettes.

Amelia shook her head. “No, but you go ahead.” There was a strong breeze blowing through the canyon. It would sweep the smoke away with no problem.

Penelope tossed the pack down onto the table between them and took a drag of the one she’d just lit. “Don’t tell Ethan I’m doing this,” she said. “He’d have my head.”

“Why?” A few of the guys walking around were smoking too. Amelia didn't really see the difference between lung cancer for them and lung cancer for Penelope.

“Because you’re knocked up,” the other woman said matter of factly. “But he’s across the site looking at Buddy’s bike and it’s been a long damn ride, so I’m going to take the chance.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “Wait. What? Because I’m what?”

Penelope exhaled a thin stream of smoke and shook her head. “First thing you’ve gotta know is that there areno secrets in a motorcycle club. From the minute Ethan told the officers, it’s been circulating through. Everyone knows by now.”

Amelia blinked, trying to figure out how she felt about the news that everyone in the whole club knew she was carrying Ethan’s baby. Hardly anyone she knew was aware of the pregnancy and she wished Ethan had told her that he was going to tell the club.

Penelope looked closely at her. “Don’t get worked up,” she advised. “William’s the only one that really hated it. The other guys are happy to wait and see.”

“Wait and see what, exactly?”

Penelope shrugged casually. “What kind of person you are. Whether you’ll fit in. Your father’s a dick. You might be one, too.”

“I’m not,” Amelia said, her tone frosty now. “He and I don’t hold the same ideals.”

“Fancy political talk won’t get you too far,” Penelope said. “And I’m not trying to piss you off; I’m just telling you like it is. You’ll need to get used to it if you’re gonna hang around.”

Amelia looked down at her hands. The other woman smoked in silence.

“Okay,” Amelia said after a moment of thought. “Then you’ll need to get used to the fact that all of this is new to me. I don’t know anyone here except for Ethan. I’m getting used to things, too.”

“Fair enough,” Penelope said. “Hey, look. Kenny’s starting to grill.” She huffed out a laugh. “He’s actually wearing a damn apron. Wonder who he lost a bet with?”

Amelia glanced over and saw a stocky man with an extremely pink, extremely ruffled apron wrapped around his waist. He was laying steaks on one of the grills at the site. She clapped a hand over her mouth as another man walked up behind him and jammed a matching pink chef’s hat down onto Kenny’s head and over his eyes.

“That’s Taylor,” Penelope said with a laugh. “My guy’s so mature.”

Taylor ran away as fast as he could while Kenny swore and tugged at the hat. It appeared to be stuck. Kenny had a surprisingly varied vocabulary and it rang across the site, even over everyone’s laughter.

“Don’t take the bet if you’re not ready to lose,” Ethan called once Kenny had managed to pry the hat off.

“You wanna wear the hat or you wanna shut up and let me cook?” Kenny called back.

“Burn my steak and you’re out on your ass,” Ethan returned.

“Big kids. All of ‘em.” Penelope said, lighting another cigarette with the end of the first one.

“How long have you and Taylor been together?” Amelia asked. With the tension between the two of them broken, she wanted to continue in a friendly vein of conversation.

“Not long,” Penelope said. “Just about three months, officially. This is only the second ride I’ve been on with him.”

“Oh, really?” Amelia looked at the other woman. The boots and the jacket and the riding pants looked worn in; she hadn’t expected to hear that this was only her second ride. “You don’t seem like you’re new to all of this.”

“Oh, no, I’m not,” the other woman said, still watching Taylor, who was sneaking back over to Kenny, clearly aiming for the hat that was now on the ground. “I’ve been dating bikers since I was old enough to sneak out of my bedroom window. So, since I was fourteen, if you’re counting.”

“I used to sneak out, too,” Amelia said.

“Oh yeah?” Penelope turned to look at her. “That’s unexpected. Were you fucking bikers, too?”

“No,” Amelia said quickly. “I mean, not ‘til Ethan. Mostly, I was just getting away. Sometimes I’d go out drinking. But a lot of the time, I’d go to my friend Aubrey’s house and hang out with her and her family. Or I’d just go out for a walk. Basically, I went anywhere that my dad wasn’t.”

Penelope nodded. “I know how that feels. For me, it was my mom, though. She was always on my case about something.”

“Get better grades,” Amelia said.

“Don’t wear your skirt so damn short,” Penelope added.

“Remember his name, he’ll be important later on.”

“Get that mascara off, you look like a whore.”

“Hey, I got that one from my dad, too!” Amelia exclaimed.

Penelope grinned. “Yeah? Guess there’s not as much of a class difference as I thought between the rich and the poor.”

“Our parents would probably get along well,” Amelia agreed. “Maybe we should set them up.”

Penelope laughed, but there was a slight tinge of bitterness to it. “That would involve talking to her and I’m not ready for that, even if it would mean I was rich by proxy.”

“You two don’t speak at all?”

Penelope shook her head. “Not since I turned eighteen. Do you talk to your father now that you’re with Ethan?”

Amelia paused. “No. Not really.” But she hadn’t really planned for that to be a permanent thing. Although...when had Gregory Stratton ever changed his mind about anything? Had walking out with Ethan really severed that relationship completely? The thought was unnerving.

“Just from personal experience, I wouldn’t expect that to change,” Penelope said. “I guess you miss your friends, since you’ve been hanging out with the likes of us for so long.”

Amelia paused and then shook her head, realizing she hadn’t thought about Lauren or any of the other women she would have causally called her friends a few months ago. “No, not really. It’s mostly just political gossip and talking about whose dress cost the most or looks the worst.”

“You sure as hell won’t hear about that around here,” Penelope said with a chuckle. “I work retail and I’m usually a combination of K-Mart and Goodwill, which I make look hot as hell. And the only political gossip I know is that Ethan Billings knocked up Representative Stratton’s daughter. But I’m guessing you know that.”

Amelia nodded seriously. “I’d heard something about it, yes.”

Penelope leaned in, her dark brown eyes dancing mischievously. “And who the hell could blame her when he looks like that?”

Amelia looked over to where Ethan was putting up their tent. When he bent over to grab a tent pole and his jeans hugged his ass, both of them sighed. He really was incredibly hot. Amelia felt her whole body flush at the memories of what that muscular body could do.

“If news travels that fast in the club, maybe--”

“I shouldn’t be ogling your guy with Taylor right over there?” Penelope finished, picking up Amelia’s train of thought with no problem. “I like to live dangerously. And you’ll have to get used to that, too. Every girl I know gives Ethan the longing looks. Especially since he used to play so damn easy to get.”

Amelia’s gaze snapped back to Penelope. “Did he?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“No reason why he shouldn’t,” the other woman said easily. “Don’t get freaked out about it. He’s with you now, isn’t he?”

Well, she wasn’t sure about that. She didn’t want to get into it with Penelope, though. She went for a diversionary tactic. “What are you, some kind of a mind reader?”

“Nope, just a decent poker player. You wouldn’t be. I’m just saying.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” Amelia said, remembering Ethan’s words of a few weeks back.

Ethan turned around. Penelope tossed her cigarette away quickly and Amelia gave him a wave. He finished with the tent and then walked over to them.

“Ready to come and help me unpack?” he asked.

“Okay, but what are you going to do for me?” Penelope asked with a grin.

“I won’t tell you off for smoking in front of my girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Told you,” she said to Amelia. “Once you get your set up done, come hang out at our tent. We can eat together.”

“That sounds great,” Amelia said.

Penelope jogged over to Taylor and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. She snuggled against him with a smile.

“She’s a real handful,” Ethan remarked.

“I liked her,” Amelia said, surprised to find that she was telling him the truth.

“Oh, I like her just fine,” Ethan agreed, pulling the bag off the back of the bike. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s a handful. Come on in and help me get this air mattress set up.”

Amelia ducked into the tent with Ethan and began to unfold the air mattress he’d bought earlier. “She says she always dates bikers.”And that you’re easy to get.

“Yeah, I guess she does,” Ethan agreed absently, digging through the bag for the sheets as the mattress expanded.

“Have the two of you ever...you know...dated?”Have you had sex with her?

“Nah,” he answered. “Taylor’s had his eye on her for a while now. Going after her would have been against the code.”

So he hadn’t had sex with her. He hadn’t said that she wasn’t his type, though. Amelia chewed her lip, wondering whether or not to pursue that. In the end, she decided not to. Not now, anyway.

“There’s a code?” she asked instead.

“Yep. Rule number one: don’t go for the girl if your buddy’s been there or if he’s aiming to go.”

“Simple enough, I guess.”

“Solves a lot of problems,” Ethan said. “Here.” He tossed the bundle of sheets her way.

“I told you you should have folded them,” Amelia said, vindicated.

“Grab an end and we’ll get ‘em straightened out.”

“Why did it take him so long?” she asked.

“Who? To what?” He frowned at the sheets and tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles. “Oh, for Taylor to get Penelope? Because she used to go for bad boys. He doesn’t really fit the bill.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “The bike and the leather aren’t enough?”

“Did you see him with the hat?” Ethan asked. “No, the bike and the leather weren’t enough. But she’s come around, I think. Getting clean helped. That fact that he doesn’t smack her around helps, too.”

“I would think so,” Amelia agreed.

“You don’t seem as surprised as I thought you would,” Ethan said, giving up on the sheets and sitting back and eyeing her.

“At what? Someone hitting her? Do you really think rich men don’t hit their wives?”

“Good point, I guess.” Ethan’s brows knitted together thoughtfully. “Never really thought about it. Anybody ever do anything like that to you?”

“No,” Amelia replied, smoothing the sheets over the air mattress. “My father tends to stick with what works, which is moral intimidation. And you’re the first...” she trailed off, still unsure of what to call him.

“And I’m sure as hell not about to tune you up,” he said seriously.

She smiled. “I know that.” That, at least, she was confident in. She had no idea if he loved her, but at least she was safe with him.

He reached over, tracing his thumb down her cheek. When she looked up at him he buried his other hand in her soft hair. “Amelia,” he said, his voice low. “I-”

Several motorcycles revved loudly, making her jump. She heard Taylor call a hello to Jimmy. Ethan eased back and she returned to smoothing the sheets.

“Wanting you gets in the way,” he said as he shook out a blanket. “I keep meaning to talk to you and I keep wanting to take you to bed instead.”

There was the honesty they’d promised each other. Amelia’s cheeks heated up at his blunt words and the desire in those dark blue eyes.

“I’ve missed you at night,” she admitted.

“Good. I want you to miss me like I miss you,” he said roughly.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“What?” he asked. “I was trying to make you feel better! What’s wrong?”

“I do miss you,” she whispered. “I miss you so much. And it feels like we’re never going to get into that comfort zone with each other. And if don’t then all of this...” Amelia swung her hand, gesturing at both of them. “It’s all just going to fall apart and...” She couldn’t go on, not without the desire to sob getting the better of her. She caught her breath rapidly.

Ethan pulled her against him, disarranging the sheets and blankets she’d just straightened, pulling her into his lap. “I know, baby,” he said against her hair. The thought of losing her sent his pulse racing. “That’s why I brought you out here with me. I want us to talk. Without all the distractions and the bullshit.”

She nodded against his chest. His t-shirt was wet with her tears. “Okay. We’ll do that honesty thing.”

He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “Sounds good to me. Amelia...I meant what I said. I want to marry you.”

Her heart jerked, skipping several beats.

“We’re having a kid together,” he went on. “I want this to work.”

She eased back, away from the heat of his body, away from the distracting desire. “I want it to work, too,” she agreed. But not for exactly the same reasons, apparently.

Chapter 23

Ethan

“Hey, what the hell took you so long?” Ethan demanded when he walked out and saw Jimmy opening a beer.

Jimmy sighed. “More custody shit. Liz didn’t show at the right time, she says she told me she was going to be late, but I know she didn’t because I would have written it down. She was four hours later than she should have been and it really freaked the girls out. And she didn’t want to hear it when she finally got over to the house, of course. Because she’s never wrong.”

Ethan could tell that Jimmy didn’t really want to talk about it. “Well, drink up,” he said casually. “You’re a few beers behind and we’ve got a steak on the grill with your name on it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jimmy said tiredly. Then he seemed to notice the woman standing at Ethan’s side. “Hey, you’re Amelia, right?”

“It’d be super awkward if I weren’t,” Amelia said with a smile. She held out her hand. “Lucky for you, I am. I didn’t get your name, though.”

“Jimmy,” he answered, giving her a smile. “I’m the secretary at The Angel’s Keepers.”

“Is that a lot of work?”

“Not lately,” he said. “We’ve been having some--well, I guess you know all about the issues. I’m really hitting this out of the park, aren’t I?”

Ethan gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. “Doin’ great.”

Amelia laughed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to put on the kid gloves. My father is making things hard for you. And he’s completely wrong. How many kids do you have?”

The conversation turned to Daisy and Hope as the delicious smell of grilling meat wafted over the campground. She learned that his daughters were six and eight years old, respectively, and that Hope was mature, quiet, and in the gifted program for math at her school.

“The only girl in the room,” Jimmy said. “But she kicks ass and takes names there.”

Daisy, the six-year-old, was much more outgoing and impulsive. “My little firecracker. A little braver than I want her to be while she’s still so little.”

Amelia rubbed her stomach, wondering when the last time her own father had looked so proud of her was. Or if he’d ever been as enamored for her as Jimmy was with his girls. Jimmy clearly thought his daughters were the best people on the planet. There was a softer look in his eyes every time he mentioned either of their names.

“Sorry,” he said when she was silent. “I know I’m rambling. It’s just been a rough day.”

“No, it’s no problem!” Amelia was quick to assure him. “I think it’s great. My father and I aren’t very close. I like knowing there are some dads who love and accept their daughters no matter what.”

Jimmy put his hand on her shoulder briefly. “He’ll come around. He’s probably just freaked out with how everything’s going down.”

She doubted it, but she smiled up at him anyway. “Thank you.”

Penelope jogged over to the two of them and gave Jimmy a small wave before looping her arm through Amelia’s. “Hey, ready to eat?” she asked. “I think everything’s pretty much done.”

They walked across to the table Ethan had chosen for them. Different groups were scattered all around the campground, opening bags of chips and bottles of beer. There was a man at each grill slapping steaks and burgers and hotdogs down on plates rapidly. Everyone was chattering and laughing, but the wind swept all but the closest conversations away.

Amelia took her plate up to Kenny, who gave her a grin. “What can I getcha?” he asked.

She looked at the array of grilled meat. She actually felt hungry for the first time in a while and she planned to enjoy this meal to the fullest. “Steak,” she said decidedly.

He slid one onto her plate. “I cooked that one a little bit longer,” he said. “Since you’re eating for two and all.”

She hadn’t even thought about that and so she beamed up at him. “Thank you so much!”

“Am I going to get special treatment when I get knocked up, too?” Penelope demanded, giving Amelia a small wink to let her know she was only teasing the chef.

“Maybe just a little,” Kenny said, sliding a thick hamburger patty and a hot dog onto her plate without asking. “Don’t know how special I can make a hamburger and a hot dog, though.” When Penelope looked down at the white foam plate in surprise, he went on. “What? This is your usual, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I just...I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“You act like Taylor doesn’t talk about you from dawn to dusk.” Kenny sounded annoyed, but one look into his brown eyes told both women that he wasn’t. “Now, get on back to the table and let these poor hungry men get their food.”

“Are we the only women?” Amelia asked in an undertone as they headed for the table.

“At this table, yeah,” Penelope answered, ripping open a bag of spicy barbecue chips and handing Amelia a foil packet of potatoes along with the bottle of ketchup. “I don’t know what Kenny does to these potatoes,” she went on. “But they are so damn good, so you’re gonna split them with me. Anyway, yeah, and I’m glad you’re here because with William taking off, I would have been the only woman at the table.”

“Really? None of the other guys are involved with anyone?”

“Not really. They’ve all got their reasons, I guess. I mean, Jimmy’s divorce hasn’t been easy on him, so he’s not looking for anything serious. Or anything too casual because of his girls. He doesn’t want them seeing women going in and out of the house all the time. Kenny just likes the single life. Ryan doesn’t, but he hasn’t found the right one yet. And now Ethan’s got you.”

“Does William have a girlfriend?” Amelia asked.

She could tell from Penelope’s laugh that she hadn’t done a good job at concealing her surprise. “Yeah, her name’s Maria and I think she’s great. If anyone is gonna help him get his head on straight again, it’ll be her. They’ve been together for something like fifteen years, so she knows him better than most people.”

“That’s a long time,” Amelia said as she opened the foil packet of potatoes. The scent wafted up with the steam and her mouth began to water instantly. “Wow, these smell amazing!”

“They taste even better.” Penelope reached over and plucked one out, popping it into her mouth and chewing appreciatively. “The man is a magician.”

“Talkin’ about me again?” Taylor asked, dropping onto the bench beside her and slinging his arm around her shoulders.

She rolled her eyes and then grinned. “You know it, baby. You’re all I can think about.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He took a bite of his steak and chewed for a second. Then his face went red and his eyes began to water.

Amelia looked on in alarm as he grabbed his beer and chugged it, caught his breath, and reached for Penelope’s beer, too.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope asked sounding worried.

Kenny sat down in front of him, wearing a grin worthy of the Cheshire cat himself. “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen,” he said placidly. “You oughta know by now not to piss off the chef.”

“What did you put in there, Kenny?” Ethan asked, sitting down beside Amelia and looking at his treasurer with almost academic interest.

“Nothing much,” Kenny said, cutting into his own perfectly medium rare steak casually. “Just a little more pepper than normal.”

“A little?” Penelope asked, her eyebrow sliding up.

“Okay, a lot.” Kenny smiled across the table at Taylor, who was still drinking and wiping his streaming eyes with the back of his free hand. “Relax, man. There’s another steak for you on the grill.”

“Don’t know if I trust you now,” Taylor managed to say. “You son of a--” He grabbed Ethan’s beer and drank it, too.

Penelope went and got the steak. She took the first bite, chewed thoroughly, and then handed the plate to Taylor solemnly. “I think you’ll be okay,” she said dryly.

“Now that’s dedication,” Ethan remarked. “I’d lock it down while I could. And go get me another beer, you asshole.”

His words reminded Amelia of his proposal, still unanswered. She realized she wanted to say yes. No matter how crazy Aubrey would think she was, she wanted to be Ethan’s wife. But she couldn’t tell him yes without more information. She had to know they were getting married for the same reasons.

Amelia glanced over at Ethan and found his eyes resting on her. His hand rested on her leg briefly. It felt good; there was still the shiver of electricity and desire. But she needed more than that.

# # #

After dinner and cleanup, everyone had drifted off into smaller groups. Ethan ducked into the tent, grabbed a blanket and took Amelia’s hand. She followed him out to a secluded area where the setting sun struck full on the red rocks; the view that gave the Valley of Fire its name.

He spread the blanket out and dropped to the ground, pulling her down with him. She sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He felt her relax slowly and her breathing matched with his. It was incredibly relaxing, holding her while the sun put on a show. He had nothing to do and nowhere to be except in this moment with her.

“So,” he said. “Did you want to talk about--”

“When did you lose your virginity?” she cut in.

Ethan stared down at her, but she had her chin up, facing determinedly toward the great view. It could have been the light of the setting sun, but he would have sworn she was blushing.

“Say what?” he asked, just to be sure he’d heard her correctly.

She half turned, glancing quickly up at him and then away again. She was definitely blushing.

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, but...”

“I thought we were going to be getting to know each other,” she said. “And it’s not like you don’t know when I lost mine, so I figured I’d ask you about your first time.”

He rubbed his chin. “Okay, you’ve got me there. I don’t mind telling you, it’s just that this really isn’t where I thought we’d start.”

“Well, you could always tell me your favorite color if you want to start easy.”

“Blue, all ‘em except the really pale blue. And I was fifteen when I lost my virginity.”

“Mine’s green, especially emerald green. And isn’t that kind of young?”

“It might have been,” Ethan agreed. “But I saw the chance and I went for it.”

“So this was before you came to Nevada, then?” she realized.

“Yeah.”

“Okay...”

“Okay, what?”

“Well, who was she? Give me a little more information than that!”

“Her name was Maggie and she was about a year older than me. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Cheerleader at our high school. Her parents had just split up and her mom had to go to back to work to make ends meet while she waited on her settlement. There was a lot of time to be alone. We went for it.”

“Was she your first girlfriend?”

Ethan leaned back a bit, looking up at the sky. “No, I guess I wouldn’t say she was my girlfriend. The age difference matters a lot in high school.” Hell, he’d promised to be honest. “And even if it hadn’t...I didn’t really want to date her.”

“Why not? You liked her enough to sleep with her.”

“I liked her a lot,” Ethan agreed. “It’s just that relationships aren’t really my thing.”

Amelia held her breath, holding back everything that she wanted to say. The last thing she wanted to do was push him away by reacting to what he’d said with the fear that had suddenly filled her.

“No relationshipsever?” she asked. “Not even after high school.”

“No, not really. Nothing I’d call serious.”

“Penelope says you’re easy to get,” Amelia blurted out.

Ethan snorted. “Did she?”

“Are you?”

“I guess so,” he said easily.

“Like...how easy? New woman every night easy or...”

“Good God, no,” Ethan said quickly. “I’m not...” He tried to figure out how to put it. “I’ve had more than a few one-night stands, sure. It’s more about the no strings thing. Open relationships, I guess is the best way to put it.”

“That’s not what I expected.” Was that what he would want with her? Because she wasn’t the type to share. Not when it came to him.

“I don’t mean open relationships like that. I just mean the freedom for either person to pick up and leave whenever they want.” He felt her stiffen slightly and he sighed. He wasn’t doing the greatest job of explaining this. “Look, I’ve never wanted to end up with any of the women I’ve been with, and I don’t mind admitting it. They didn’t want to end up with me either.”

Amelia snorted softly. “Yeah, right.”

“I like the disbelief, but I’m serious.”

“You’re telling me that there weren’t ever feelings? From any of them? For any of them?”

“There were feelings. There was lust and there was friendship. But it wasn’t love. And we both knew what it was going into it. I’m not one of those guys who likes stepping on a woman’s heart.”

She nodded, but she didn’t speak.

“Is it my turn to ask a question now?” he asked.

“Sure,” she answered quietly.

“Was I your first kiss?”

Her surprised laugh rang out, pleasing him. “No!” she said, still giggling.

“No?” he questioned. “And here I thought I was special.”

“Remember that whole virginity thing?”

“I guess that’ll have to do.” He kissed the top of her head. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Spill it. Who was he?”

“His name was Brent Bruckheimer.”

“Are you serious? What is it with these rich people names?”

“Yes, I’m serious. It was at our eighth grade dance. Well, actually it was after the dance when his chauffeur dropped me off. He was about half a foot shorter than me and he was sweating through his suit. It wasn’t really great.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” Ethan said with a grin. “He wasn’t me.”

“You wouldn’t have asked me to that dance.”

“I’m seven years older than you. It wouldn’t have been worth the jail time, no matter how cute you probably were.”

“I was only semi-cute. I had a lot of baby fat. And I forget about you being older than me.”

“I forget about you being younger than me. Does it bother you? The age difference?”

“No,” Amelia answered honestly. “I always assumed I’d end up with an older man. Actually, I expected my future husband to be even older than you.”

“Thanks,” he said wryly. “Wasn’t that Anthony guy around your age, though?”

“No, he was older than me.” She paused for thought. “He was younger than you, though.”

“Yeah, just keep rubbing it in.”

“Does the age difference botheryou?” she asked with a quick laugh.

“Nah, I like the idea of a trophy woman. You’re gonna have to chase the kid around, though. I’ll have to keep both hands on my walker.”

“You’re not getting out of childcare duty that easily, Ethan.”

His hands slid around, his large, warm palm resting on her stomach. “What do you think?” he asked. “Boy or girl?”

She smiled. “I know the appropriate answer is ‘as long as it’s healthy it doesn’t matter’ but I kind of want a boy.”

“Yeah? Me too. I can get him a little tool bench and let help me with spark plugs this time next year.”

Amelia laughed. “Of course, a girl would be a lot of fun, too,” she said. “Pretty clothes and someone to give all of my porcelain dolls to.”

“You have porcelain dolls?”

“Most of them belonged to my mother, actually, but I kept them.”

“Do you have a lot of her stuff?”

“No, not really. I have the dolls. I have a blanket she made for me when she was pregnant. And I have two photo albums. What about you?”

“I don’t have anything of my mom’s,” Ethan said. “A few pictures I can show you when we get back. But we didn’t really have a lot of stuff and she wasn’t the sentimental type. She didn’t go the keepsake route. And with Dad...most of his stuff is still at HQ. Part of the legacy. His jacket and military stuff.” He looked up at the sky, which had gone dark while they spoke. “This is what I brought you out here for,” he said. “Look up there.”

Amelia glanced up and then caught her breath. “Oh, wow! Ethan, it’s amazing!” Stars twinkled like diamonds cast carelessly across the black velvet of the sky. “Is it always like this out here?”

“It’s better with you.”

Amelia took a deep breath. There would never be a better moment to get this question answered. Once and for all, she had to know. “Ethan, why did you ask me to marry you?”

“You really don’t know?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Amelia, I don’t want us turning out like Jimmy and his ex-wife. I want us to raise this kid together. I want us to be a family.”

“I see.” She looked up at the sky, the one filled with stars that suddenly looked cold and remote. “I’m getting cold. Is it okay with you if we go back to the tent?”

“Sure.” Ethan stood, tugging her to her feet.

She grabbed the blanket and hurried back before he could see her tears.

Chapter 24

Amelia

Amelia lay on the air mattress, staring blankly into the darkness that surrounded her. She’d been awake for hours. She’d turned her head away when Ethan had started to kiss her once they got back to the tent. He’d believed her when she’d said that she was worried about the closer campers overhearing them, but, truthfully, she’d been afraid that she would start to cry if they had sex. It was always so good with him and she didn’t need anything that wonderful clouding her judgment. Not when she needed to think.

Ethan wanted to marry her. He wanted to raise their child together. And she wanted so much more from their marriage than that. It couldn’t work. It never worked. She’d seen the families that stayed together “for the kids.” Misery, bitterness, and pointless fights between two people tied only by circumstance. That wasn’t the life she wanted for herself or for their child.

A light speared through the tent and she looked quickly around for the source. Her cell phone lit up again. Amelia untangled herself from the blanket and from Ethan’s arms.

He muttered under his breath and rolled over, so she went still again. Once he’d settled back into a comfortable position and she knew he wasn’t going to wake up, she reached for the phone. It was three o’clock in the morning; there was really only one person it could be. She wasn’t surprised when she saw her father’s name flashing on the display.

He could take her home. The thought came out of the blue, but she didn’t have the urge to push it away like she had so many times since she’d left home. Instead, Amelia pictured her room, her big comfortable bed and the thick curtains she could draw across her big windows.

The picture was more than a little inviting. A familiar place to hide, to regroup, to lick her wounds. A familiar shower to cry in. She knew from past experiences that no one would hear her there.

Just as she moved to answer the call, though, it ended. As she was debating on calling her father back, a buzz indicated a voicemail. She had deleted all the others without listening, but she played this one, pressing the phone tightly to her ear so Ethan wouldn’t hear anything in the event that he woke up.

“Amelia.” Her father’s voice filled her ear. It had been so long since she’d heard him when he wasn’t shouting or trying to intimidate her. Was it her imagination or did he actually sound contrite? He definitely sounded hesitant. Her resolve melted completely. “I... I just want to talk to you. Please, honey. I’ll be awake. Just...just get in touch with me.”

She listened to the voicemail twice more, thinking of what Penelope had said. “I wouldn’t count on rebuilding that relationship.” But what if she could? This was the longest she’d ever rebelled against him. Maybe he finally understood. She turned the phone in her fingers, thinking hard.

In the end, she didn’t return her father’s call. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still too frightened that she was going to be disappointed with what he said. Furthermore, she didn’t want Ethan to overhear. Instead, she sent a text.

“I’m in the campground in the Valley of Fire. Can you send a driver?”

“I’ll come myself.” The reply read. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m so glad you’re willing to talk to me.”

Amelia pulled her clothes on over her pajamas and waited for her ride, sitting in the front of the tent with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her heart ached when she looked over at the large lump under the covers that was Ethan, but she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to marry for convenience any more than she’d wanted to marry for status. Was it too much to ask for someone to simply want her for who she was? For someone to just love her?

# # #

When the car pulled up, she eased out of the tent, walking as quickly as she could while still being quiet. She didn’t want to get caught and she definitely didn’t want a big scene. She couldn’t imagine that she’d be popular among the members of The Angel’s Keepers if she was discovered sneaking out in the cold hours before dawn, especially if they saw her father behind the wheel of the big luxury car.

Amelia slid into the passenger side of the car, looking at her father in the glow of the dashboard lights. He looked haggard and exhausted and his jaw was clenched tightly. This was far from the warm welcome she’d been hoping for and her heart was pounding with nerves. What was he going to say?

“Why were you out all the way out here?” he asked, putting the car in drive and pulling away from the campsite.

“The Angel’s Keepers are here,” she answered. “The whole club. It’s a camping trip to kind of build morale.”

He pulled out his cell phone and tapped out a message, glancing up at the road casually. “Interesting idea. I wouldn’t have thought that they’d have the funds for it.”

“Membership is up. Who are you messaging?” she asked as they pulled out of the lot. Her father hadn’t even looked at her since she’d gotten in the car.

Gregory shoved the phone down into his jacket pocket, care not to let her see. “I’m just letting security know when we’ll be back.”

“You have security now?” That was a new development. The gates had always been enough for her father’s tastes. The thought of additional personnel was frightening rather than comforting. Had they been hired to keep other people out, or to keep her in?

“Yes, I do. It was time to do something a little more than put up a gate. There have been some...issues.” Gregory shook his head and frowned, his tone growing stern. “It’s not anything for you to be concerned with.”

“I’m just worried about you,” she said.

He didn’t reply and his hand kept drifting toward the phone in his pocket, checking and checking again for a reply to his text message. Would he be that concerned with getting the okay from security? Would a reply from a security guard even take that long? The car jounced along over the rough edge of the road the fourth time he looked down at the phone and Amelia tightened her grip on the seat belt.

“Can you slow down, please?” she asked, her voice wavering a bit.

“I wouldn’t imagine you’d have a problem with my driving after running off on a motorcycle,” Gregory said. He eased up on the accelerator and put the car into cruise control, though. “Is that better?”

“It’s fine.” Amelia closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the buttery leather headrest of her father’s Lincoln.

Had she really thought that he’d sounded contrite on the phone? She should have known that it was only another one of his tricks. Maybe she could sleep until they got home. Anything to keep herself from crying.

Amelia was half asleep when she heard her father’s cell phone ring. She was just wondering who would be calling him at this hour when she heard him curse viciously under his breath. She heard a rustle as he raised the phone to his ear.

“I told you not to call!” he snapped in a low voice. “Not now!”

It was so surprising to hear that tone in his voice that it was a struggle to keep her eyes closed. He was usually so controlled with other people. She felt him glance at her and she tried to stay relaxed. If he knew she was awake, he’d disconnect.

The voice at the other end of the line was tinny but recognizable. It was the same man who had been shouting in Gregory’s office before she’d left with Ethan. Something Miller, she thought.

“Make time,” Miller demanded. “We need to move and we need to move now. We’ll go through you if we can’t get around.”

“I told you I’d have new information and I will,” Gregory said roughly. “Give me two hours and don’t forget I’ve got more power in this situation than you do.”

Gregory threw his phone into the cup holder and Amelia pretended to stir at the loud sound.  “What was that?” she asked, making her voice as groggy as possible.

“Don’t worry about it, Amelia. It’s not your concern,” he said, biting off each word with a snap. “Go back to sleep.”

The car surged forward again. Two hours would be just enough to get them back home. She couldn’t pretend that the new information didn’t have something to do with her; it was all much too convenient. Her heart began to pound again and she knew without a doubt that she’d made a huge mistake. And the worst part was that she had no idea how to fix it.

# # #

“Dad?” Amelia asked as she walked into the house. There had been two guards at the gate and two in the hallway. She wondered how many more were scattered around the grounds. She also wondered what had frightened her father so badly. “Can we talk for a little bit?”

“Not now, Amelia,” he answered, glancing down at his cell phone. He’d barely had it out of his sight since that phone call that had made him so angry when they were leaving the Valley of Fire. “I’ve got a lot of work to do today and that drive out to pick you up took up more time than I thought it would. I expected you to be at Ethan’s house.” Gregory frowned at her, obviously annoyed that she wasn’t where he’d planned for her to be.

“Well, I wasn’t. Andyour message said you wanted to talk,” she reminded him, holding her ground.

He turned to face her, sighing impatiently. “I wanted to talk about you having some sense and coming back home. Now you have, so there’s nothing left to say to you. Why don’t you go up to your room and get some sleep?”

Amelia couldn’t do anything but stare as he turned away and went into his office. He’d basically just sent her to her room. Her feet carried her upstairs and she automatically went into her bedroom. It was exactly as she’d left it. The maid had been keeping it vacuumed and dusted and the sheets and white down comforter were fresh and clean.

The bathroom was sparkling, too, and she turned the shower on, letting the hot water run until it steamed up the clean glass. Maybe she could steam herself clean of the way it felt to be rejected yet again. Although, to fair, Ethan hadn’t rejected her. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to take care of her.

Amelia poured body wash into her bath pouf and began scrubbing a little harder than she really needed to. That was part of the problem. She didn’t want Ethan thinking that sheneeded him.

She wanted them to be on equal ground so she would know he wanted her, not just that he felt responsible for her. In short, she wanted him to want her like she wanted him. Not just for sex. Not just to make raising a child easier, if such a thing was even possible. But for anything and everything else that came along.

Aubrey had said life hardly ever worked out the way a person planned. Amelia paused in her scrubbing, wondered if she’d really ever planned anything in her own life. Other than losing her virginity, that is.

If she was completely honest, she had to admit she hadn’t. She tended to just let things happen to her. Her father didn’t want her to work, so she simply let him pay her way. Ethan had wanted her to go back home with him once he found out about the baby, so she’d gone home with him to get away from her father. And now she was back at her father’s house to get away from Ethan. And she was supposed to be an adult.

So what did she really want to do? She let the hot water pound down on the very center of her head as she tried to think. She wanted to work, to help people. Now more than ever, she thought she’d be the perfect candidate for a crisis pregnancy center or a job in some kind of women’s health field.

She didn’t want to be just “State Rep. Stratton’s daughter.” She wanted to stand on her own two feet financially. She wanted freedom.

And she wouldn’t get it here. Amelia reached out and turned the water off with a quick flick of her wrist. Maybe life wouldn’t always work out according to plan, but having a plan was a good start.

Once she was dry and dressed, she began to pack. She’d call Aubrey once she was done and ready for yet another fight with her father.

Chapter 25

Ethan

Ethan woke up when a shaft of sunlight plunged through the thin material of the tent. Damn it, he’d set an alarm and, apparently, it hadn’t gone off. He’d planned to take Amelia back out to watch the sun rise. He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly and rolled over, reaching out to pull her close and apologize for his phone not waking them up.

But she wasn’t there. His hand met only empty sheets when he reached for her for the second time in their relationship. He sat up so fast that his head spun.

“Amelia?”

She didn’t answer. A thousand scenarios ran through his head. She could have been attacked by something, either human or animal. Maybe she’d gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and she’d gotten lost. Maybe she was just gone.

He shut the thoughts down, grabbed his jeans and yanking them on. He jerked the shirt he’d worn yesterday on, as well, because he didn’t want to take the time to dig through his bag for anything. He didn’t even bother to tie his boots before he grabbed his cell phone and prepared to duck out of the tent.

Ethan went still when he saw the text message notification. It was from Amelia and it was several hours old. He opened the message, not sure that he really wanted to see what it had to say.

I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t marry you. I’ll keep you up to date about the baby, but I need some time. Please don’t contact me.

The volume of his phone had been turned down before it was sent. That was why he hadn’t heard his alarm. She’d left him in the middle of the night and she’d been very careful not to give him any kind of warning.

His pulse rate kicked up as a mixture of anger and disbelief poured through his blood. Was this really how she was ending things? After the night they’d had? Yeah, there hadn’t been any sex, but he’d felt closer to her than he ever had, falling asleep with her in his arms, feeling like they were finally getting onto the same page together.

She’d gotten along with everyone she’d interacted with at the campground. She’d snuggled back against him out in the desert, answering his questions and asking her own. There hadn’t been a single thing that had gone wrong. At least, not that he knew of. There’d obviously been something. Apparently, he wasn’t ever going to figure out what the hell it was because she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him like an adult.

The anger stretched its wings, expanding by leaps and bounds, and Ethan let it grow. Hell, he fed it. Anything to drown the rising tides of hurt and pain that were trying their best to consume him now that the first shock was gone. She wanted to go? To sneak off without saying anything or trying to work things out? Fine.

He didn’t need someone that childish in his life. His whole goddamned life would be much simpler without her in it. He could eat mustard again. He could...he couldn’t think of anything else that Amelia interfered with, so Ethan worked hard to convince himself he’d missed the freedom of being single.

He could have a different woman tonight if he wanted one. Ethan swallowed hard, ignoring the distaste he felt from the thought of going to bed with someone besides Amelia. Or maybe it would be good just to stretch out in his own bed and be alone in his house. It would be quiet. Not that Amelia’s chatter had ever bugged him.

The place wouldn’t smell like her anymore. When they’d gone shopping she’d bought a flowery smelling body wash that made the bathroom and bedroom smell unmistakably feminine. He hadn’t thought he’d like it; he certainly hadn’t expected to miss it. He also hadn’t expected to like the scent of the small candle she’d put on the nightstand, the one that smelled that marshmallows and a campfire. Or the laundry detergent that she’d asked for, the one that was supposed to smell like some kind of meadow. But he did.

He liked the scents she brought to his life. And the colors. And the sounds. How was he supposed to go back home and be surrounded by all those things when she wasn’t there?

Ethan shoved those thoughts away, too. No. She could have talked to him, but she’d taken the easy way out. Even if he wanted to track her down again, how could he be with her now that he knew he would never know what she was really thinking and planning? The short answer was he couldn’t. He didn’t expect her to share her every thought with him, but he damn sure would have wanted a heads up about this.

She’d mentioned the baby. He made a mental note to try to find a lawyer. A good one. That Anthony guy was a lawyer, too. If she went back to him, he might be screwed. Of course, he might be anyway because she knew a hell of a lot more about the political world than he did. But that wouldn’t keep him from his kid.

Ethan rolled the sheets and blanket into a ball and stuffed them down into the bag. Then he deflated the air mattress. The club was supposed to stay another night, and he hoped that they did, but he couldn’t do it. Not with everyone looking at him and asking where Amelia had gone. That ignited his anger all over again. She’d left him holding the bag, trying to explain her behavior when she wouldn’t even explain it herself.

The rest of the people in the campground were staggering to life, some heading to the showers, some having morning cigarettes, and others starting to brew coffee cowboy style as Ethan began to break down his tent.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked him.

The road captain was the most awake out of all of them and he’d clearly just come back from a run. It was the kind of energy Ethan tended to envy, especially today. He felt exhausted and about fifty years older than his actual age.

“Uh, I’m packing up,” he answered, concentrating more than he really needed to.

“Is Amelia okay?”

For a second, Ethan wanted to lie. He wanted to say she’d gotten sick in the night and he’d called someone in to take her back. But what was the point? Whatever had been between them was broken now and he needed to put that out there. Otherwise who knew how tempted he’d be to take her back?

“She left last night,” he said shortly. “I think that she went back home, but she didn’t really say.”

Ryan’s face went slack with shock for just a second and then he pulled it back together. “Jesus, are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Ethan answered. “I am.”

“Shit,” Taylor said from the other side, shielding his lighter with his hand as he joined them. “You think she was just here to get some dirt?”

“I honestly don’t have a fucking clue,” Ethan said, yanking the stakes out of the ground. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t think she was, though,” Penelope said.

“Yeah, but we don’t know that, babe,” Taylor said. “She could have--”

“She’s running,” Penelope cut in. “Because she’s been hurt.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing to her!” Ethan said more vehemently than he had planned.

“Okay, but maybe somebody else did,” Penelope said, her hand tightening on Taylor’s. “It’s hard to believe that things can be good if they’ve been bad for a long damn time.”

Ethan dropped to his knees, pushing the tent down into its bag. That made sense, but it made it so much harder to hold onto his anger. He needed the anger to get him through. “Yeah, well,” he said. It was probably the weakest attempt at an argument he’d ever given.

“Yeah, well,” Penelope repeated. “Don’t take it personally until you know it’s personal. That’s all I’m saying.”

Ethan’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it. The text wasn’t from Amelia, though. He was let down for a second, but then confusion took over.

“Huh,” he said. “It’s William.”

“Yeah?” Jimmy and Kenny had joined Ryan and Taylor. It was practically a meeting.

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “He says he wants to meet up tonight at headquarters. So, I would have had to head out anyway.”

“We’ll let the rest of them know,” Kenny said. “No need to worry about any of the rest of it.”

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, slinging his luggage onto the back of the bike and strapping it down. He was glad that Kenny was always ready to step up at the last minute. “Don’t get too crazy without me here to watch you.”

“I’ll cancel the hookers,” Ryan said. “See you tomorrow.”

Ethan pulled his helmet on and revved the bike. Maybe the long ride back would calm him down, but he doubted it could do much for the fact that he wouldn’t have Amelia’s arms around him.

# # #

Ethan walked into his house and dropped the leather travel bag onto the living room floor. It made thud that seemed to reverberate around the small house. He’d gotten so used to being greeted by Amelia that the emptiness of the rooms he’d become so accustomed to before her grated on his strained nerves. Had his house always been this damn quiet?

All the little touches were still there. The coffee cup she’d commandeered for her tea sat on the table in front of the couch. One of his hoodies was hanging over the arm of the couch, too. She usually got cold in the mornings. He picked up the gray shirt. It was halfway to his nose before he caught himself.

What in the hell was he doing? He balled the hoodie up and headed down the hall to his tiny washer and dryer. He threw the hoodie in as hard as he could. Then he grabbed the laundry basket and went around the house, grabbing anything and everything that he could find that might have captured her scent. He even stripped the bed, leaving the pillows on the floor where they landed.

He threw all of it into the washing machine with the hoodie and doused it in the old laundry detergent that Amelia didn’t like. Then he looked around for something else to do. The trouble was, he couldn’t find anything.

He dug his phone out of the luggage and sent William a text.

Where do you want to meet?

The reply was so quick that he knew William must have been waiting for the question.

HQ, after I get off of work. It’ll be late.

Fine by me. Just give me a call.

For all Ethan knew, William was going to show up and turn in his colors tonight. That was the last thing Ethan wanted. For one thing, William was the only remaining member who’d rode with his dad. Losing him would be like losing all that remained of the original The Angel’s Keepers.

For another, Ethan really hated the thought of having bad blood with the older man. He respected William. At least, he respected William for the most part and he knew he only wanted what was best for the club. He’d overstepped his boundaries this time, but his heart was in the right place.

And hell, after this morning, Ethan wasn’t sure the man had overstepped. Maybe Amelia was telling her father everything she knew about the motorcycle club. Not that there was much to say.

Either way, Ethan had to get out of the house. There was no way that he could stand the silence any longer.

# # #

“I thought you were off with your club for the weekend.” Leah, the front desk organizational machine at the mechanic shop said when he walked in.

“Tell me someone didn’t call in and I’ll head back home right now,” Ethan challenged, not wanting to answer the implied question. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and waited.

“Are you joking?” she asked. “We’re down by not one, but two guys today. Casey hurt his shoulder again, poor guy. And Jeremy is probably either sleeping one off or tying one on, but the point is that he’s not here.” She pushed her hair back and went on, typing up an invoice while they spoke. “I’m not saying I’m not glad to see you, Ethan, but what are you doing here?”

He winked at her. “We'll just agree to say that I’m a mind reader and I’ll get to work, how about that? What’s first on the list?”

“If you’re up for a challenge, we’ve got a ‘65 Mustang sitting back there that’s acting up. Nobody can figure out what the problem is.”

“Now that sounds perfect,” Ethan said eagerly. “Thanks, Leah, you’re a hell of a woman.”

“Shut up, Ethan, I know. Have fun with the Mustang.”

Hours later, his lower back was killing him. His hand ached from where he’d smacked it against the engine block turning a stubborn bolt. He smelled like transmission fluid and he was covered in a light but thorough coating of oil and grease. And the Mustang hummed perfectly, without skipping a beat.

Ethan glanced around the shop, but everyone else had gone home, so there was no one to brag to. It still felt pretty good, though. It was nice to have one thing go his way today.

As he cleaned off the tools he’d used and began to put them back where they belonged, he purposefully kept his mind on the relatively mundane task. It helped that he seemed to be the only one in the whole damn shop that could manage to put things back where they belonged. Tonight, he was actually grateful that he worked with a crew of total slobs.

It was nearly midnight and the shop was organized to within an inch of its life when Ethan’s phone finally rang.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Headed over to HQ,” William barked. “I’ll meet you there in about twenty minutes.”

“Sounds fine.” Ethan disconnected the call and took one last glance around the shop for anything else that needed to be put away because hell, he wasn’t at William’s beck and call. When he didn't find anything out of place, he wiped his hands, set the alarm, and tugged the rolling door down after him. He really hoped this was going to go well, but if it didn’t...well...what was one more shitty development in the grand scheme of things?

Chapter 26

Ethan

Ethan pulled the garage door down after he parked his bike and took his helmet off. William’s bike was there, just to the left of his own, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Ethan was just starting to wonder what was going on when William walked in from the office section of the HQ holding two beers.

“What, the beer in this fridge isn’t good enough for you?” Ethan asked, taking the bottle William held out.

“The baby fridge get’s ‘em colder,” William answered.

Ethan nodded and they both busied themselves twisting the caps off of the glass bottles. Ethan was content to let William start the conversation. He was the one, after all, who’d walked out.

“I saw the convoy go by yesterday,” William said after a moment. “Where’d you all run off to?”

“We headed up to the Valley of Fire,” Ethan answered. “Most of them are still there. We were camping for the weekend.”

William looked surprised. “What the hell are you down here for, then?”

“You called me,” Ethan reminded him. “You said you wanted to meet up. What was I supposed to do?”

“You coulda told me to fuck off ’til you got back.”

“Believe it or not, I’m interested in what you have to say,” Ethan said. “And I’m interested in knowing why you left, too. I’d like to make it right if I can.”

William sighed. “I left because I think gettin’ involved with that politician’s daughter is a fuckin’ stupid thing to do,” he said bluntly. “And I still do, no matter what you say.” He put his beer down on one of the toolboxes. “But it ain’t my business what you do in your private life. As long as it doesn’t spill over to the club.”

“And do you think it has?” Ethan asked, trying to stay level headed.

William shook his head. “Yeah. And no at the same time.”

“Well as long as you’re not making it complicated,” Ethan muttered.

“If we’ve got the money to hit the road and the campground, you must be doing something right,” the other man admitted begrudgingly.

“The way I have been since Dad died?” Ethan couldn’t resist pressing the issue.

“Don’t get that started. Me and you both know you haven’t given this club nearly the time and attention your old man did. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if you run this place because you love it or if you run it because you’d feel guilty as all hell if you didn’t.”

Ethan stared. “How long have you been thinking that?”

“Since about the time you took over.”

As Ethan stood there, stunned into silence, William went on. “Tell me something: before all of this shit hit the fan, did you know how much we had in the treasury?”

“No. That’s Taylor’s--”

“How about how to find our membership roster?”

“No, Jimmy and Kenny--”

“When’s the last time you called a meeting instead of just showing up for one that Kenny put together?”

Ethan put his beer down with a thump. William simply hooked his thumbs in his belts loops and eyed Ethan.

“And don’t you go gettin’ mad at me,” he said placidly. “Your old man would have known all of that without havin’ to think twice and you damn well know it. Can you blame me for thinkin’ you might be more interested in goin’ to bed with that woman than doin’ what we needed you to do?”

“I stepped up,” Ethan said defensively. Deep down, he knew William was right. But that didn’t mean that he was ready to admit it. “When--”

“When she ran out on you,” William finished. “I’m surprised you’re here now. She still back in the Valley or did she come home with you?”

Ethan cleared his throat. “She...we’re taking a sort of a break. You know, a step back to figure out what’s best for the kid. We don’t wanna rush anything and screw it up.”

William nodded as if his point had just been proven. “And if she’d been there, keepin’ you all warm at night, would you have come down here to talk to me? Or would you have told me to fuck off ’til Monday when you were back in town?”

Ethan knew the answer to the question. He just didn’t want to give it.

“See?” William questioned. “Marcus would have died for this place. You just do it ’cause you have to. And that’s why I don’t wanna be a part of it anymore. It’s ain’t even the same club.”

“Why didn’t Dad ask you to run it?” Ethan demanded suddenly. “Since you know so goddamned much?”

“I don’t know,” William answered gruffly. “I wanted him to. Hell, I did everything but come right out and ask. But he wanted you to take over. I figured he must have seen something in you that I didn’t, so I kept my mouth shut.”

“’Til now.”

“’Til now,” the older man agreed. “And I’m gettin’ ready to walk, Ethan.”

“What if I--” Ethan cut off his own sentence. He’d heard a noise in the outer office, something like the sound of a desk drawer opening and closing. There shouldn’t have been anyone in there. He and William were the only key carrying members left in town. “Did you hear that?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Yeah,” William answered.

He’d gone still at the noise, too. Both men moved closer to the wall, away from the small, high window in the office door. They dropped into the shadows before they spoke again. And then they kept their voices as low as they could. The walls were thick, but not so thick that they couldn’t be heard if they weren’t careful.

“What was it?” Ethan asked.

His heartbeat had kicked up the tempo and he was really hoping William would have some kind of explanation. He’d thought his day couldn’t get worse, but a break in would prove him wrong.

“Hell if I know,” William replied. “But it sure ain’t one of us out there.”

“You’re sure you didn’t tell anyone to stop by and meet you?”

“Think I was planning on gettin’ you jumped?” William asked, but the jab was halfhearted. “Shut up and listen, maybe we can figure it out.”

Ethan was more than happy to do so. Whoever was out there clearly thought they were alone. File drawers rattled and then someone spoke.

“You doin’ this or what? I don’t want to stick around all night.”

Ethan frowned with concentration. The voice sounded slightly familiar but he couldn’t place it.

“Fuck off, man. It’s gotta be just like Miller and Brewer wanted or it’s gonna be our asses on the line.”

“Who the hell are Miller and Brewer?” William asked in a very low voice. “You know ‘em?”

Ethan shrugged. “Never heard of them.”

“Did you put it in the fireproof box first?” The first voice asked.

“Jesus, do you think I’m an idiot? Yeah, I did. Get out of here, go wait in the car. You’re making it too damn hard to concentrate.”

Ethan and William came to the same realization at the same time. The first voice belonged to Michael Slattery, the asshole who’d been hitting on Amelia the night Ethan met her. The second voice was Michael’s right hand man. Ethan didn’t know the guy’s real name, but he went by Bear.

“Son of a bitch,” William growled, shoving Ethan out of the way and shouldering the door open before Ethan could stop him.

He would put money on William against Michael any day. Michael was an easily intimidated, big talking pussy. But Bear wasn’t. At least not from what Ethan had heard through the grapevine. He went plunging into the room after William. Maybe he could deescalate the situation before it got too out of hand.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael demanded, his voice so comically high pitched with fear that Ethan wanted to laugh. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“No, that’s you,” Ethan said, surveying the situation in Stratton it came down to a fight. “You’re the one who’s not supposed to be here, Michael.”

Michael blocked the door and normally that wouldn’t have been a problem. But he held a Molotov cocktail in one hand. He was shaking slightly and the gasoline sloshed around in the bottle.

Bear was behind them, standing at the desk, a fireproof box in his hands. Just before he slammed the lid shut, Ethan saw bags of white powder. He wasn’t exactly up on the price of the stuff, but that was a pretty big box. It was probably more cocaine than he could pay for with his full year’s pay.

“What the fuck is this about?” William demanded. “And just who in the hell are Miller and Brewer?”

Michael’s face blanched ghost pale. “What? How did you...How do you know about them?”

“I guess they heard us talking,” Bear said, casually situating the box in the bottom desk drawer. “But, hey, that’s why I brought a gun.”

“I don’t know, man.”

“Would you rather let Brewer get ahold of you?” Bear snapped. “You heard what he did to that guy in Colombia. That’s one jigsaw puzzle no one is gonna put back together.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think we was gonna have to kill anyone,” Michael said, the Molotov cocktail in his hand sloshing even more. “I didn’t...” He turned back to Ethan and William. “Why the hell are you here?” he shouted. “You weren’t supposed to be here!”

“It’s our goddamned club!” William shouted back.

Ethan repressed a crazy urge to laugh when Michael shrank back in the face of William’s roar.

“Okay, look,” he said. “Let’s not get crazy. No one has to get hurt.” Christ, he sounded like an after school special.

“Actually, you do.” Bear moved out from behind the desk, leveling the gun at them. “And if you don’t shut your fucking mouths, I’ll let you burn up instead of making it quick with a bullet to the head.”

William snarled. “Get fucked you piece of--”

Ethan felt like things went in slow motion as William began his insult. He saw the gun come up, aimed right in the center of William’s chest. He lowered his shoulder, knocking the Sergeant at Arms off of his feet. He barely felt the pain of the bullet when it went through his left shoulder, but there was a lot more force than he’d imagined.

“Shit, you shot him!”

Ethan heard Michael’s voice dimly over the ringing in his ears. Then he smelled the gasoline.

“Did you drop the fucking bottle?” William yelled, sounding completely disgusted in spite of everything. He shoved Ethan to a sitting position just as Bear pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

“Don’t you fuckin’ do it!” William shouted, but the man ignited the flame and tossed the lighter casually into the puddle of gas.

William lunged to his feet, but he didn’t go after Bear. Instead he grabbed Michael, getting him easily into a headlock as the fire began to spread in front of the main exit. The only other way out was the door through the garage and the man with the gun blocked it now.

Bear laughed. “No skin off my nose, old man,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Shoot him!” Michael demanded, frozen in place as the flames spread. Ethan braced himself to dive for Bear, but he didn’t so much as twitch his trigger finger. “Wait, what are you doing?” Michael asked, and Ethan could tell by the fear in his eyes that he was beginning to catch on.

“The rest of my damn job,” Bear said with a grin. “Guess it’ll be a slow one after all, boys.”

With his gun pointed right at William’s face, he walked backwards out of the door. They heard him shove one of the toolboxes in front of it, sealing them in. Smoke was already filling the air. Ethan’s arm was throbbing, blood pooling on the floor by his fingers.

“We’re gonna die,” Michael shouted. “Jesus Christ, we’re gonna die like fucking...fucking...” He couldn’t seem to come up with an analogy.

William yanked Ethan to his feet, both of them ignoring Michael for the moment. “What about the bathroom window?” William asked, gripping Ethan’s arm so tightly that he had to catch his breath.

“No way in hell we’ll fit through it,” Ethan said through clenched teeth. His vision was swimming. “How long do you think we’ve got?” William was a firefighter. For a second, Ethan had thought he could get them out of it, but then he really got a look at the other man’s face.

“Not long,” William said grimly. “The only good thing is that the smoke will knock us out before we burn up. We probably won’t know it.”

“That’s cheerful. You know, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to take over The Angel’s Keepers. Be the president.”

“I woulda said yes,” William answered seriously.

“Can you two shut the fuck--” Michael didn’t finish the sentence.

William hit him as hard as he could and the man flopped down, completely unconscious on the hard floor. “Well, hell, I’m not gonna spend my first and last few minutes as president listening to that shit,” William said when Ethan raised an eyebrow at him. Something shifted above them with a creak and a groan. “The roof is gonna come down soon,” William said almost conversationally. “Shit, this ain’t gonna be a pretty way to go.”

“Then let’s make a run for it,” Ethan said.

“Run where?” William asked incredulously.

“Well, out.” Ethan gestured at the door with the arm that still worked.

“You can’t run from here to the door bleedin’ like that.”

“Hell, I’d rather get it over with than wait for it,” Ethan argued. “He didn’t secure the front door.”

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s a fire in front of it!”

“And?” Ethan didn’t think he was going to manage to stay upright much longer. His legs were getting shaky and there was a lot more blood on the floor than he felt like it was healthy to lose. “We’re wearing leathers and I remember how to stop, drop, and roll.”

“Fuckin’ A.” William rubbed his chin and eyed the door. “We might as well, I guess.”

“You’re gonna have to get him,” Ethan said, nodding to Michael, who was starting to come around. “It’d probably be better to do it before he wakes up and starts screaming again.”

William knelt and grabbed the other man, getting him into a fireman’s carry. “Well,” he said, eyeing the flames and the door, clearly planning what he was going to do. “See you on the other side. Or not. There’s gonna be some blowback from the air if I get the door open. Stand back and wait for it to settle down before you follow me. Wish you could carry him, but with that arm there’s no way you could.”

Which was William’s way of saying that he’d let Ethan go first if he could. Ethan held out his hand. It was bloodstained and mostly numb, but they shook anyway.

“Just in case...tell Amelia I’d appreciate it if she considered the name Marcus if the kid turns out to be a boy. And it’s been a pleasure, William.”

“I know it has, kid. And you’ll tell her yourself.”

And with that, the older man was gone. Ethan pressed his hand to the bullet hole in his shoulder, feeling his blood trickle out around his fingers. He waited for a whoosh of air to indicate that William wasn’t burning to death. It came in a blast of heat and sparks and his heart lifted for a second. Then the rafters began to creak above him. If any of them fell, the door would be blocked for good.

He was gathering himself for the rush to the door when he saw the flames inching toward the glass cabinet and his father’s jacket. He could remember the smell of that jacket and the way it felt. He didn’t have time to save everything, but there was no way he was leaving it to burn with everything else.

Ethan glanced around, but he couldn’t find anything to break the glass with. And there was no way that he could get to the keys to the case. And there wasn’t time.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. What was a little more blood?

He punched the glass door as hard as he could and it splintered, cracks like spider webs feathering out over the glass. One more punch and he was through. The glass sliced his hand open in several places when it finally shattered, but he had the jacket and the case of military ribbons and that was all he cared about. He yanked them out and dove into the flames just as the roof came down with a crash around him.

Chapter 27

Amelia

“We’re bringing you breaking news tonight from the headquarters of local motorcycle club, The Angel’s Keepers,” Marta Waters said. “As you can see behind me, the fire that broke out a few minutes ago is being extinguished now, but firemen don’t believe there will be much of the building left when they’re done.”

The camera panned the flames. Amelia saw the silhouettes of men armed with water hoses and clad in bright yellow, their reflective tape glinting in the reddish lights as they worked to put out the blaze.

“However, the drama doesn’t end with the fire here tonight,” Marta went on when the camera went back to her. “Police will be interviewing two members of The Angel’s Keepers who were caught in the blaze once they are released from medical care. President of the club, Ethan Billings, was shot in the arm in addition to sustaining other wounds and Sergeant at Arms William Hanley suffered mild smoke inhalation while carrying one of the men allegedly responsible for setting the fire out of the building. All three men are currently hospitalized and in stable condition.”

Amelia gasped. “Ethan got shot?” She pressed her hand to her stomach when it cramped with nerves. That wasn’t the first time she’d felt that today. It wasn’t quite pain, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Gregory was staring at the television, his face white and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “How in thehell...” he began, but then his phone rang. “Amelia, go to your room,” he snapped before answering the call, looking almost terrified.

She walked out of the living room, but she didn’t head up the stairs. Instead, she hid just out of sight. The guards were patrolling different areas, watching the entrance and exit points of the house. They wouldn't see her there.

“What do you mean you’re here?” she heard her father say. “No, I am not going to let you come in! I have guards, I--”

Amelia jumped when she heard a very heavy knock on the door. Her father’s voice stuttered into silence.

The caller didn’t knock again. The stained glass panel in the door shattered when the door was shoved open. Amelia stayed where she was, her heart pounding. She could see Warren Miller standing in the doorway, accompanied, as always, by Richard Brewer. The smaller man had a strange smile playing around his mouth.

“Your office, Gregory. Now,” Miller said.

“What the hell are you thinking, showing up here?” Gregory hissed. “After what happened earlier? This is the worst place you could be!”

“We have things we need to talk about,” Brewer said quietly.

“There’s nothing to say,” Gregory answered, his voice shaking slightly. “It didn’t work and we’ve got to let it die down before we try again. We could even try with another club--”

“Another club?” Miller stared at him. “Are fucking kidding me? Ethan Billings just came out of this looking like a goddamned hero! There’s no other club that matters nearly as much! It’s got to be them. He put the target on his back with that charity drive and you promised that you would take care of him.”

“And then you hired some idiots behind my back and moved without my permission! How do you expect me to get to him now?” Gregory demanded.

“It’s not him that you need to worry about getting tonight anyway, you idiot,” Miller answered. “It’s the little junkie biker we hired to torch the place.”

“Michael,” Brewer supplied. “He needs to understand what will happen if he opens his mouth.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” her father said. “What about his buddy?”

“We’ve got him,” Miller said. “And we’ll be hanging onto him until this is over.”

Amelia’s stomach tightened again at the quiet smile on Brewer’s face at his partner’s words. She pressed her hand to it. Now wasn’t the time for something to go wrong.Just hang on, baby.

“Your office,” Miller repeated. “So we can see whether or not we need to hang onto you, too.”

“Why...” Gregory’s voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “Why would you think you needed to?”

“Because we’ve just discovered that your daughter is pregnant by the biker,” Brewer said. “Maybe family loyalty won out over the money we gave you. We’ve seen it happen. Once the money’s been spent, people start to rethink...until we refresh their memories.”

Miller grabbed Gregory’s arm, twisting it up behind his back. Amelia barely bit back a cry.

“I didn’t warn them!” Gregory said, breathing heavily, clearly in pain.

“Then why were they there?” Brewer asked, casually drawing a switchblade from the pocket of his designer suit. “We could play a little game. One finger for every time you lie. Or should we do one for every time I think you might bethinkingabout lying to me.”

Amelia’s knees went weak and dark spots swam before her eyes. She couldn’t afford to pass out. Not now. But what could she do? She was trapped where she was and she didn’t think the two men who had just burst through the door would have a qualm about playing “games” with her, too.

“I’m not lying!” Gregory said, trying his best to sound reasonable. “My intel was that the whole motorcycle club was in the Valley of Fire for the weekend. I got it from someone who was there! I don’t know why Billings came back and I don’t know why the other one wasn’t there to start with!”

“Then maybe you should have planned better,” Miller said. “We didn’t fund your campaign so you could fuck this up for us! We’re talking more money than your life is worth here, Stratton.”

Brewer and Miller shoved Gregory into his office and slammed the door shut. Amelia didn’t waste any time in bolting out of her hiding place and up the stairs. A cramp nearly sent her to her knees halfway up and her mind began working overtime.

Her father might be about to die. Something was clearly wrong with her, baby wise. The security guards were either paid off, distracted, or...worst case scenario, dead. She tried to force her mind to slow down. Of the three options, distracted seemed more likely. She’d spoken to a few of them and they seemed pretty decent. And Miller and Brewer weren’t exactly the type to walk in with guns blazing. They obviously preferred to let other people do their dirty work. What could she do? There wasn’t time to call the police and explain the whole situation.

The answer slid into place neatly. She could call the ambulance. They wouldn’t hurt her father in front of official witnesses, and she could get herself checked out at the same time.

She grabbed her cell phone and dialed quickly with shaking fingers.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m about a month and a half pregnant and I think something’s wrong,” Amelia said, her voice hitching as she said it out loud. “I’m cramping pretty badly.”

“Name and address.”

“Amelia Stratton.” She rattled off her address. “Please, please hurry. And make sure they use the sirens; we have a security gate.”

“Someone will be there shortly, Ms. Stratton.”

Amelia hung up and looked around her bedroom. It was half packed up already, but she knew there was no way she could figure out which bag to take to the hospital. And no way she could carry it even if she’d had one. The cramps were coming faster now.

She dragged herself over to the stairs and walked down. Then she leaned against the wall beside her father’s office. She had to time this just right or she risked a lot. Possibly both her and her father’s lives. And the life of her baby. The hospital wasn’t too far from the house, but it seemed like an eternity before she heard the wail of a siren.

“Did you call the--” she heard Miller begin.

Amelia flung open the door, “Daddy, something’s wrong!” she cried dramatically. “I’m bleeding and my stomach’s cramping and you have to ride in the ambulance with me right now!” She wasn’t actually bleeding. At least, she didn’t think that she was, but it certainly grabbed their attention.

Brewer and Miller stared at her with their mouths hanging open. Gregory pushed his sweaty hair back off of his forehead and said, “What?”

The sirens were ringing through the open front door now. Brewer swore and shoved the knife back into his pocket.

“Hello?” a paramedic called. “The gate and the door are open, we’re coming in.”

“Get out there,” Miller hissed, shoving Gregory up.

Gregory staggered to his feet. “In here,” he called. “She’s in here.”

The stretcher was wheeled in and Amelia, who was shaking now that her plan actually seemed to be working, allowed them to help her onto it. She wasn’t sure her legs would carry her down the front steps.

“He’ll follow her in his own car,” Miller said.

“No!” Amelia shrieked, making sure she sounded absolutely hysterical. It wasn’t hard, under the circumstances. “I need him to go with me! Daddy, please!” She grabbed his coat sleeve and held on as tightly as she could, refusing to be dislodged.

“It’s fine,” the first paramedic said. “We need to go. You can come with us, sir.”

Amelia relaxed just in time for the next cramp to hit and tears filled her eyes. Not this. She couldn’t lose this, too.

# # #

“All right, make a fist,” the nurse said. “We’re just going to get an IV started. You’re a little dehydrated. I’m Martha Kendrick and I’ll be your main nurse.”

Amelia winced as the needle punctured her skin. This nurse was friendly, but she was a little heavy handed with the sharp objects.

“When will you know?” she asked tightly. “If I’m losing the baby?”

“We’ll keep you here until we’re sure either way,” Martha answered. “It’s hard to pinpoint it when you're this early in the pregnancy. We’ll get an ultrasound soon and go from there. Is there anything you need?”

Amelia shook her head. She needed reassurance, guarantees, and Ethan. The nurse probably couldn’t do anything about any of that.

“What did they say?” Gregory asked once she was settled in her room.

“They said it’s too early to really know,” Amelia answered. “I could be losing the baby. Or it could just be stress.”

“Stress?” Gregory said with a half laugh. “For you?”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, her tone venomous. “Stress. From the fact that my father is an asshole who’s in completely over his head with some wannabe gangsters in designer suits, probably.”

Gregory closed the door and spun to face her. “How much do you know?”

“Enough,” she answered.

“Tell me right now, Amelia!”

“What are you going to do?” she asked. “Let Brewer cut off my fingers? You already nearly got Ethan killed!”

Gregory stared at her. “How did you know...” He stopped himself, but it was too late.

“Because I’m not an idiot,” Amelia snapped. “And just because you tell me to leave a room doesn't mean I have to go!”

“Did you tell Ethan?”

She threw her hands up. “You are missing the point! You nearly got two men killed! Three if you count whoever it was that they hired to actually do the job. And for what? Another term in office? My God, Dad. That’s sick!”

“It’s not sick! I’m helping--”

“You’re not helping anyone do anything!” Amelia said viciously. “Your numbers are in the toilet; your popularity is sliding because of this stupid war on motorcycle clubs--”

“That wasn’t even my idea, but I had to promote it because of--”

“Because you're a puppet!” she shouted. “And that makes anything else you were planning to domeaningless!”

She thought for a second that her father was going to hit her. Then he stuck his finger in her face and said, “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, so don’t act like you do.”

“And where’s my thank you for saving your life?” she demanded.

He wrenched the door open and stormed out. Amelia grabbed her cell phone and dialed a number she’d never thought that she’d use.

“News 6?”

“Hi, this is Amelia Stratton and I need to leave a message for Marta Waters.”

“Okay,” the receptionist said. “Amelia...wait. Did you sayAmelia Stratton?”

“Yes, I--”

“Hold one moment, please.”

She’d barely gotten to hear the hold music before the call was picked up again.

“Hello, this is Marta Waters.”

“Um, hi.” She hadn’t expected to actually get to speak with the woman. “This is Amelia Stratton. I...I was just wondering if you might have time to talk to me today?”

“Well, that depends,” the news anchor said. “Right now I’m at Nevada General interviewing someone else. When would be a good time for you to do an interview?”

“What a coincidence,” Amelia said. “I’m on the fourth floor of Nevada General myself.”

“Are you here to see Ethan?” Marta asked, her voice growing more interested with every passing moment of the conversation.

“No, I’m a patient. But I have information about what happened at The Angel’s Keepers headquarters. I’d also like to talk to the police, so...”

“I’ve got some good contacts down at the station. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Wait!” Amelia said suddenly. If Ethan had been shot, there was a good chance he might be in the same hospital. “Are you interviewing Ethan?”

“I’m sorry; I can’t divulge that I’m interviewing Ethan.”

Sounding like a yes to her. Amelia chewed her lip. What else did she have to lose? “Tell him I’m sorry about his club. Tell him I didn’t know. That’s not why I left.”

The call disconnected and Amelia let her head fall back against the pillows. She’d done everything she could do. Now she just had to hang onto the baby.

Chapter 28

Ethan

“She’shere?” Ethan asked. “In the hospital? Why?”

Marta shrugged. “She didn’t say why she was here; she just said she was a patient. Then she asked me to pass along the message to you. Can we wrap this up before someone scoops me, please? I’ve already got the best detective in the whole department meeting me in her room.”

“Fine,” Ethan said flatly. “I went to meet William. Michael and Bear were there. Bear shot me and started a fire. We got out. Now tell me what else Amelia said.”

“I’ve already told you everything she said! But that sounds like your way of asking me to interview her first.”

“Yeah, do that,” Ethan agreed. “Then come and let me know what the hell is going on, please.”

“I’ll let you know something soon,” Marta said, jumping out of her chair. “Don’t go anywhere...” She trailed off, looking at him in the hospital bed. “Okay, I doubt you’re actually headed out anytime soon, but the point is, Derrick will want to talk to you, too.”

“Yeah, been waiting for that,” Ethan said. “I’ve got a hell of a lot to say.”

When she was gone, he looked around. He was hooked up to an IV drip. His right hand was bandaged and his left arm was wrapped carefully. Hadn’t they done pretty much everything they could do? He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. What was the point in sitting in this bed when he could figure out what was wrong with Amelia?

He’d heard Marta say Amelia was on the fourth floor, but he hadn’t gotten a room number. Ethan pulled his jeans on carefully. He managed the zipper, but the button defeated him.

Carefully, with his lower lip between his teeth, he disconnected the IV and tugged his shirt on. He didn’t bother with boots. Just as he made it over to the door, a nurse walked in.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Mr. Billings, you are not well enough to be out of bed.”

“I seem like I’m doing fine,” he said, aware that he looked the exact opposite of fine. He was still covered with blood, dirt, and soot in places and his hair was probably standing straight up. His clothes stank of transmission fluid, gasoline, and smoke. “Come on, I just wanna take a walk around.”

“No,” she said flatly.

Ethan felt his jaw clench. “Okay, let me put this another way. The woman I’m having a kid with just checked into this hospital somewhere on the fourth floor and I’m going to find her no matter what you say.”

The nurse stared up at him, wide eyed. “But I can’t let you--”

Ethan walked away.

She jogged after him, each of his strides equaling two of hers. “Mr. Billings, I will call security,” she said firmly. “I cannot let you leave your room. You haven’t been released by the--.”

He pressed the button for the elevator and caught her upper arm, pulling her in with him when the doors slid open.

“You can call them from the fourth floor,” he said just as firmly. “I just need to know she’s okay. After that, you can do whatever you want with me, up to and including throwing me out on my ass.”

When the doors opened at the fourth floor, the nurse sighed. “What’s her name?”

“Amelia Stratton.”

He followed her to the nurses’ station where she checked something. “Follow me, please,” she said briskly and he did.

She knocked on the door of room 423 and they heard Amelia call to them to come in. Ethan pushed the door open and Amelia’s face went white.

“You’re not the detective,” she said blankly and then blushed. “I was...we were expecting...”

“I know,” Ethan said. “Amelia, what’s wrong? Why are you here?”

Her hand drifted down to her stomach. “I...there might be something wrong.”

Ethan pushed past the nurse and walked into the room. “When will we know?”

“It could take a few days, since it’s so early.”

He brushed her hair back. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Things have been happening so fast,” Amelia answered. “Miller and Brewer tried to torture my dad and--”

“Miller and Brewer?” Ethan asked sharply.

“Yeah, they’re some guys my dad knows. I don’t know how he got involved with them, but they seemed pretty rough.”

“Yeah, I guess they are. They’re the ones who sent Michael and Bear to burn the place down, too,” Ethan said. “I heard them say it. So did William.”

Marta was watching the interaction with realization dawning on her pretty features. “Do you have first names?” she asked. “Not that I think there could be more than one Miller and Brewer.”

“I don’t,” Ethan said. “Bear just used their last names.”

“Warren,” Amelia supplied. “Warren Miller and Richard Brewer.”

“Oh my God,” Marta said and she sounded literally reverent. “This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.Exactly.”

Ethan looked at his bandages and at Amelia in her hospital bed. Then he looked at Marta with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” he asked.

“Well, obviously not all of this,” she said impatiently, gesturing at the two of them. “I could have done without the shooting and the trauma. But do you two haveany idea who Miller and Brewer are?”

“Assholes?” Ethan asked. “Because that’s about all I’ve got.”

“They own half of Vegas, using a variety of shell companies,” Marta said. “And we’ve all known that they were dirty for a while, but no one could pin anything on them! There have been so many rumors of drug trafficking around them that it’s ridiculous. It makes perfect sense now, all of it!”

“So then why don’t you educate us?” Ethan said, exchanging a bewildered look with Amelia.

“Ifthey’re trafficking, they’d want to eliminate the competition,” Marta said, looking at Ethan like all the pieces were fitting perfectly.

“Okay, yeah, but we’re not trafficking anything,” Ethan pointed out.

“No, but you’re not the only motorcycle club on the face of the Earth, are you?” Marta asked impatiently. “There must be one that is and that one must be big competition. If Miller and Brewer found a way to shut them all down, they’d seriously screw over the one they want to get rid of.”

“Then why did they come after me so hard?” Ethan demanded. “Stratton was pretty focused on me.”

“You knocked his daughter up and then basically spit in his face with your charity drive,” Amelia said wryly.

“Exactly,” Marta agreed. “It didn’t start out personal for Stratton, at least not exactly, but you kind of made it that way. Miller and Brewer wouldn't have cared, as long as it was getting them the results they wanted.”

“Shit,” Ethan muttered, dropping into the chair by Amelia’s bed. “I guess I did kind of make myself a target.”

“That has to be one of the dumbest plans I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Amelia said. “There’s so much that could go wrong!”

“On the face of it, yes, it really is,” Marta agreed. “But how else were they going to approach it without getting their hands dirty?”

“It sounds like I need statements from everyone.”

They all glanced up to see a tall man in a dark blue uniform standing in the doorway. His badge gleamed on his broad chest and the gun at his side made Amelia swallow hard. This was real. She was about to make a statement to the police about her father.

“Amelia,” Ethan said in a low voice, seeming to read her thoughts as he always did. “You know doing this is gonna incriminate your old man, right?”

Amelia nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“There might not be any going back.”

She nodded again. “I know, Ethan. It’s okay. I have to do this.”

He reached out and took her hand in his uninjured one. “Is it okay if I stay with you?”

She looked at him steadily. Then, seeming to make a decision, she turned to the reporter and the detective.

“Can you give us just a few minutes before we start please?”

“Sure,” Marta said, sounding surprised. “We’ll just be right outside.”

Ethan thought that the implication was pretty clear.Don’t make a run for it because we’ll grab you in a heartbeat. Not that there was any way in hell that he was going to miss his chance to bring Stratton down.

A lot of memories had burned up in that fire, along with his and William’s bikes. And the ‘36 Flathead. Who knew how long it would be before he could find another one of those? But, mostly, he wanted to nail the guy to the wall for the hurt he saw in Amelia’s eyes when she talked about her father.

“What is it?” he asked when Amelia didn’t speak. “They’re gonna get impatient and we should probably get going with the statements before these guys go to ground and get really hard to find.”

“I want you to know why I left,” she said.

Ethan braced himself. “Okay. Yeah, I’d really like to know.”

“I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yeah, I got that.” It didn’t hurt any less, no matter how many times he heard it. “I wasn’t gonna push you about it. I mean, hell, you’re in the hospital.”

“No,” Amelia said. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t want to marry you just because I’m pregnant. I--”

“I didn’t ask just because you’re pregnant,” Ethan cut in. “Shit, is that really what you thought?” He pushed his hand through his hair and a small smattering of ash speckled her clean white sheets. “It’s 2017, it’s not like you’re gonna get stoned in the streets for getting knocked up.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open. “Then why did you ask me?”

“Because I fucking love you!”

“Well, you never said that!”

He looked at her. “I guess I didn’t, did I?”

“No,” she replied emphatically. “You did not.”

“Well, I’m saying it now. I love you, Amelia. No matter how fucked up your old man is. No matter what other shit we’ve been through, or shit that’s coming down the pipeline from what we’re about to do. I love you and I don’t wanna spend my life without you.”

Amelia threw her arms around him and he gave a small grunt of pain when she smacked the gunshot wound.

“Sorry,” she said against the side of his neck.

“It’s okay. You’re worth the pain.”

He pulled back just enough to cover her mouth with his. The kiss went on and on, growing deeper and deeper until Marta knocked on the door. “You know,” she called. “This sort of pushes the limits of a reporter’s patience.”

Ethan pulled back, tracing the curve of Amelia’s cheek with his uninjured hand. “Ready, baby?”

She laced her fingers with his. “I am if you are.”

“Come in,” Ethan called. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Epilogue

“Would you please put that down before Ethan kicks my ass?” Ryan asked, yanking the box out of Amelia’s hands. “Go sit in the shade like a lady, okay?”

“There’s nothing in it except for pillows,” Amelia protested.

“Yeah, but he’s irrational,” Jimmy pointed out. “Stop trying to be helpful and just sit down and look pretty.”

“Sorry, that’s taken,” Penelope said, fluffing her hair with the hand that sported the diamond Taylor had bought her the week before.

She did almost everything left-handed these days, hoping people would notice and make admiring comments. Most of them did, but only because it was so obviously what she wanted them to do. Her enthusiasm was too cute for anyone to want to harsh her buzz.

There wasn’t a sparkler on Amelia’s left ring finger. Not yet, anyway. She and Ethan had talked about it and decided to put their money toward the house they’d found to rent and for baby things. There would be a lifetime to find a ring and a stable start to their family was at the top of the priority list at the moment. But Amelia made a point of pointing Penelope’s ring out every time she saw it sparkle or flash.

“Wait,” she said, letting her mouth drop open in exaggerated shock. “Are you reallyengaged?!”

Penelope grinned and thrust the ring under Amelia’s nose. “I didn’t tell you?” she said, continuing the joke.

“I think I might have heard something about it,” Ethan said as he walked by with a stack of boxes. “Maybe seven or eight hundred times, or something. Give or take.”

Penelope flipped him off and he laughed.

“You’re going to hurt your back,” Amelia said. “Or your shoulder.” His shoulder had healed well, but it would always hurt. She usually rubbed it at night for him and, even though he never complained about pain through the day, she could tell he appreciated it.

He put the boxes in the truck. “Nah, I’ve got another twenty good years.”

“And think how much more you’d have if you lifted with your legs,” Amelia replied.

He slung his arm around her shoulders, dropped a kiss onto her hair, and walked back into the house for the next set of boxes.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” Penelope said. “You’re gonna come back for the wedding, though, right?”

“If you don’t go ahead and ask me to be a bridesmaid, I’ll cry all the way to Texas,” Amelia said, only half kidding. The latter stages of her pregnancy were making her even more emotional than she’d been before.

Penelope laughed, her face lighting up the way it always did when she talked about the upcoming ceremony. “I’ve been wanting to ask, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to do it. It’s not going to be too fancy, you know. It’s not gonna be the kind of wedding you’re used to.”

“Yeah, you two actually like each other,” Amelia said. “I’d be honored, Penelope.”

Penelope flung her arms around her and Amelia laughed, returning the hug.

“Take it easy,” Ethan cautioned from under behind the boxes he was carrying now.

“Ethan!” Amelia exclaimed. “It’s just one hug. And you’re about to drop--”

Ryan dove and caught the box that teetered off of the top of the pile. “Now that’s teamwork, boss.”

“What’d you call him?” William asked from his place in the truck. He was organizing the boxes the others were putting in.

“Former boss,” Ryan corrected himself. “Sorry, current boss.”

“I guess I can let you slide this once,” William said magnanimously. “How much more shit do you have anyway?” he went on, addressing Ethan this time.

“Not a lot,” he answered. “And if you can’t handle loading a truck, how the hell are you gonna handle running this club?”

“Hey, this truck is loaded perfectly,” William shot back.

Amelia rolled her eyes.

“I saw that,” William said.

“I did it so you would,” Amelia returned, making everyone within earshot laugh.

Eventually, the last boxes were carried out, loaded up, and the truck closed. They all sat down on the small front porch, some of them on the steps when the porch got too crowded. Everyone but Ethan and Amelia opened a beer and they all sat in silence for a few moments.

“Gonna be weird without you around, man,” Taylor said. “Can’t believe you’re ditching to be a cowboy.”

Ethan snorted. “I’m repairing equipment on a ranch. Trust me, I’m not gonna be rounding up anything but parts and tools. And I expect y’all to keep that new building looking good.”

“We’re gonna trash the place the minute your back’s turned,” Ryan said. “We’re gonna be the party chapter of The Angel’s Keepers.”

William reached out and clipped him across the back of the head. “You still thinking of starting a chapter down there?” He asked Ethan.

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “I’m gonna feel the place out, see what the local scene’s like, but I’m gonna give it a shot once the kid gets here.”

“And when do you start your job, Amelia?” Penelope asked.

“A week from now,” Amelia said, unable to keep from grinning. “I’ll work right up ‘til I have the baby. Then I’ll take a little bit of maternity leave and then go back to it.”

“What are you gonna do about a babysitter?” Penelope asked. “Are you still going to be able to swing it?”

“I can actually take the baby to work with me,” Amelia said happily. “They have a little employee daycare that I’m going to use for nap times and things like that. It’s a really family friendly place to work.”

“It was cool of Aubrey to put in a good word for you,” Penelope said.

“It was, but she didn’t need it,” Ethan replied, linking his fingers through Amelia’s. “She had that director wrapped around her little finger.”

Amelia grinned, proud of herself and not afraid to show it. “I kind of did.”

“That’s what happens when you know your stuff,” Jimmy said, holding up his fist for her to bump.

He would know. He’d helped her prepare for the interview and he’d proofread the countless résumés she’d sent out. In return, Amelia had introduced him to Aubrey. The two of them talked almost nightly now and Amelia’s hopes were high. She’d never been a matchmaker before, but from the way Jimmy grinned when Aubrey’s name was mentioned, she thought her first try could be counted a success.

“Have you heard anything more about the investigation?” Taylor asked.

“We’ll have to be around for the trial,” Ethan said. “But we don’t qualify as a flight risk, so it was okay to go ahead and move. We’ll just have to come back. It’ll be a good vacation.”

“Glad they locked Miller and Brewer up,” William said.

“Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “Not even their lawyer could get them out of it once Michael squealed. And they’re the fucking definition of flight risk.”

“That Bear guy turned on ‘em, too, didn’t he?” Ryan asked.

Ethan nodded. “He wasn’t too happy with the way they treated him after he did everything they wanted.”

“Everything except actually kill you,” Taylor said.

Ethan grinned. “Yeah, that was kind of the important part. But he could back me up about the drugs, so thank God Brewer’s paranoia got a little out of hand on that one.”

Amelia nodded, but she didn’t speak. Bear had been missing two fingers when the police found him in one of Brewer’s hiding places. Even though he’d been a horrible person, willing to kill for an insultingly low ten thousand dollars, she would not have wished that on him. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Have you heard from your dad at all?” Penelope asked.

Amelia shook her head, brought back to the conversation going on around her. “No, not since he was charged. He’s out on his own recognizance, but he wouldn’t even see me when I went to get my stuff.”

“Really?” Ryan stared at her. “That’s seriously fucked up. You nearly lost the baby because of his bullshit!”

Amelia shrugged sadly. “I called him right after he was released and he said if I would rather throw my life away than do what was right, there wasn’t anything he could do.”

William snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause roasting me and Ethan alive was the right thing to do.”

“And putting you through so much stress that you could have lost the baby,” Penelope said. “That was right, too, of course. What does he consider ‘right’?”

“He wants me to recant my statement,” Amelia said. “And say he was coerced into working with Miller and Brewer. The thing is...I don’t believe it for a second. He took the deal with them to be able to keep his seat as the Nevada State Representative and he let everything else fall by the wayside. Pretty soon, he didn’t care about anything but winning. He would have covered for them if they’d managed to kill Ethan.”

She reached out as if to make sure that he was still beside her and whole. He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

“What a jackass,” Penelope said. “And he still expects you to do what he says. He doesn’t even care that he’s not going to see his grandchild?”

“He said the baby won’t be legitimate. That it’s not his grandchild.”

“Fuckhead,” Taylor said. “You’re better off without him.”

“I hate it that he doesn’t care,” Amelia admitted. “But I’m trying to focus on all the people who do.”

She looked around. The Angel’s Keepers had been an amazing support system and she was really going to miss them. But the thought of living near her best friend had its perks, too. Especially if Jimmy fell in love with her and came to live in Texas too so she could truly feel like a matchmaker.

A good job was waiting for her, and a better job waited for Ethan, as well. And they wouldn’t be “The Ex-State Representative's Daughter” and “That Biker Guy Who Helped Bring Down a Crime Boss.” Even though it was true, and they had, they wanted to be known for what they could bring to the world rather than what they were born into or what they’d fallen into.

“Ready to go?” Ethan asked, seeming to pick up on her thoughts.

“Ready,” she answered, letting him pull her to her feet. At seven months, getting up wasn’t exactly her strong suit. Along with sleeping through the night, peeing less than twenty times a day, and eating only three balanced meals.

“Hey, hang on,” Ryan said. “You can’t go yet.”

“Why not?” Ethan asked.

“Because we got you a present,” Penelope said, jumping up and running over to her car.

She handed over a smallish box and said, “Since you won’t tell us whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl, we went with a unisex present.”

Amelia ripped the silver paper off eagerly. She didn’t really care much about receiving presents for herself, but baby gear was her new obsession. She laughed through tears when she held up a small black leather jacket.

“Turn it around,” Taylor said with a grin.

When she flipped it around, The Angel’s Keepers’ colors flashed up at her. Ethan ran his fingers over them. There was a small patch on the sleeve, too.

“This one was one of dad’s,” he said.

William nodded. “Yeah, I had that one on my jacket after your old man died. I figured it’d go to better use this way.”

Amelia glanced up at Ethan in time to see him swallow hard. “Can we tell them?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, might as well,” he said, his voice gruff, but not annoyed.

Amelia put her hands on her stomach. “It’s a boy,” she said.

Penelope pumped her fist in the air. “I knew it!”

Everyone gathered around, punching Ethan on the uninjured shoulder or slapping him on the back, while giving Amelia hugs that would have led people to believe that she was made of glass.

“Name?” Penelope asked.

“Marcus,” Amelia said. “Marcus William Billings.”

William stared at her. “Say what?”

“You heard me,” Amelia said, keeping her tone practical. “And we expect a ride organized to come see him when he gets here”

“Yeah,” William said, his own voice rough now. “Yeah, we can probably do that.”

“We’d better hit the road,” Ethan said, looking into the sun. “I wanna get a good way there before we stop for the night.” He didn’t nurse any illusions of Amelia making the trip in one go.

“Let us know when you get there,” Jimmy said, ever practical.

“Don’t forget to turn the keys to the truck in at the box,” Kenny said, even more practical.

“Stop in at that burger place right when you cross over the Texas state line,” Taylor advised. “Best burgers I’ve ever had.”

“Call me later,” Penelope said, rolling her eyes at Taylor and then grinning.

“Watch that left front tire,” Ryan said. “Looks just a little low. Check at when you stop for gas.”

“Thanks,” William said simply. “Good luck to you both.”

As the members of The Angel’s Keepers walked away, Amelia glanced up at Ethan. Now that it was really happening, how would he take it?

Ethan brushed his hand over her rounded stomach and smiled down at her. “Can’t wait to get home with you, baby,” he said.

She stood on tiptoe, stretching to meet his kiss. It had all the promise she needed to give her the strength to leave the old life behind and walk into the new one with him.

THE END

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WRECKED: The Beasts MC

By April Lust

I’M GOING TO WRECK HER TIGHT LITTLE BODY.

A wife was the last thing I wanted.

But when your MC president gives you an order, you don’t question it.

Fine. I’ll marry his daughter.

But while she’s mine, I’m going to f*ck her ‘til she shatters.

President Mac is right about one thing:

His daughter Emma will be safe from his enemies as long as she’s my wife.

But she won’t be safe from my strong hands or my massive c*ck.

I’ve been through hell and back in my time as a rider.

There’s not a damn man on this planet with balls big enough to challenge me.

Under my protection, no one will lay a hand on Mac’s precious daughter.

Except for me.

I’m going to lay hands all over her.

On her thighs.

Between her lips.

Over every gorgeous curve.

She might be scared of me – in fact, I know she is.

But I just don’t give a damn.

She’s my wife.

My toy.

My property.

For as long as her body can handle my darkest desires.

Chapter 1

If it hadn’t been raining, Emma might have seen the man following her. The fact that it was eight o’clock, and long since dark, wasn’t counting in her favor either. With the tenacity of an Oregon native, and the arrogance of a college student, Emma navigated the long, fat body of her ’95 Buick into the assigned space at the college apartments, unaware of the SUV that pulled into a spot two rows over, and one row back.

She, like any sensible woman who had access to a newspaper, tucked her keys between her fingers before checking her cell phone. Three unread messages were glaring up at her. The first was from the school, notifying her that the entire campus, including the apartments, would be closed starting Saturday, and that anything left behind would be property of the school.

“Yeah,” Emma muttered to the message, “because you certainly don’t have enough of me as it is.”

The second message was from Diana, or as Emma liked to call her, the good roommate. While most of it was emojis, Emma understood the dark-haired vixen was currently enjoying her first week back at home, and that Emma should stop being boring and hurry up and join her.

Emma liked boring; her childhood had been exciting enough, boring was just the speed she wanted to go for the foreseeable future.

I’ll be there soon, she messaged back. Try not to break any hearts before I get there.

The third message was from Kristin, also known as the bad roommate. The wild-haired girl seemed to dislike bathing, communicating, or eating her own food. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Emma wrote her name on something, bits and pieces of it—and sometimes the entire thing—always seemed to vanish. While Emma would have liked to blame Diana, that girl believed in nothing but liquor, fresh fruit, and more liquor.

Did I leave anything behind? it asked.

Emma didn’t think so, but she didn’t much want to look. Kristin’s bathing issues meant her room had a certain…odor.

I’ll look, she texted back. She might look, if anything else didn’t distract her.

With a sigh she carefully tucked the phone inside her backpack. It rested between Anatomy of Canines and Internal Veterinary Medicine, Fourth Edition. Her phone would be safer from the rain than she was. Oh well.

To be fair, Emma’s thoughts weren’t really on the rain; that was just a mild annoyance. They weren’t even on the last slice of lasagna waiting for her in the fridge, or the promise of the apartment being all hers for the next two days. Instead, they were focused on next semester, which was supposed to be her last semester, and how she was going to pay for it.

Being frugal wasn’t going to help her. I’m already frugal, she thought as she took her first step out into the rain. The backpack hung heavily over one shoulder. The college diet of ramen noodles, store brand chips, and Vienna sausages had given her naturally waify figure a few needed pounds. Every paycheck from the Oswald Veterinary Clinic had been deposited and cataloged, and thank god for Dr. Oswald working with her insane schedule this year, but minimum wage wasn’t going to pay for her final weeks of college. Hell, it wasn’t even going to pay for her books.

The fact of the matter was her savings had paid most of the way, and it was all gone. If she was very diligent, the money ferreted away in her savings account would be just enough to pay for her share of the rent and books she would need to finish her degree. Then, with a little luck, she’d be one step closer to having her own practice.

One day a main street window was going to say Ketchum Veterinary Medicine, and it was going to be a really good day.

“Emma! Hey, Emma! Hey!”

The voice that broke through her dreams of a window decorated with paw prints was young, enthusiastic, and male. With a sigh Emma paused just inside the awning to her apartment building as a guy who was more leg than body came sauntering up. She could almost see him telling himself to play it cool. Marco, freshman science major and digital chess master, may be cool one day, but this was not it.

“How ya doin?” Water droplets were collecting on the bony tops of his gaunt cheeks, exaggerating his pasty coloring. Emma, pale as she was, didn’t have much of a right to think of anyone as pasty, but at least she looked like she’d seen the sun since the day she was born.

“I’m fine, Marco,” she answered, hauling her backpack higher up on her back. The rain was graduating into a storm and she wanted to get inside to the sanctity of pasta and Parmesan cheese. “How are you?”

“Good, good, I’m…uh…I’m gonna be heading home tomorrow. I was wondering if you were busy tonight. Maybe, uh, well, maybe we could hang out. You know, just chill or something. I dunno.”

If he was going for cool, he lost it sometime right after the second good. She tried to put on her politest smile, but Emma was pretty sure it looked more tired than nice. He wasn’t the first college guy to zero in on her. They took one look at her blonde hair and blue eyes and, for reasons beyond her understanding, got all sorts of ideas. “Sorry,” she offered. It was amazing how much that one word could deflate a person. “But I need to pack. I have to head out first thing in the morning. So, you know…”

“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to lean causally against the outdoor railing. It might have worked if the water running off the awning roof wasn’t puddling on his shoulders.

“Diana is letting me crash with her for the summer in Florence. Her family has a lake house there and, you know.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “That sounds cool. Real cool.”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a moment to realize he was being brushed off, but he didn’t seem to get it. “So yeah, I’m going to go do that packing thing and all that.”

“Oh yeah. Right. I mean. Well, maybe I could help. I’m strong, you know.”

Emma wondered what his scale of comparison was, looking over his slender arms and bird chest. It wasn’t that she was shallow; she’d have no problem dating a guy with Marco’s teen-boy build, so long as they had something in common. While Marco might also be enthusiastic about science, that was where it all ended. He wanted to be a proctologist.

While there were plenty of eighteen-year-old guys who wanted to study butts for a living, only Marco was taking it to the next level.

“No, thanks, I’ve got it.”

“No, really, I could help!”

“Marco—”

He put a hand on her should and she jerked it free. Suddenly everything that was annoying her, frustrating her, terrifying her, came roaring up to the surface. She snapped. “Marco, my Aikido might be a little rusty but I’m willing to work it out if you don’t back off.”

He gave her a look that was part anger, part embarrassment. “Fine, man, don’t gotta be a bitch about it.”

“Yeah,” she said, brandishing her keys at him, “apparently I do.”

He whirled away from her and stormed off into the cold wet night. His shoulders were slumped and the rain was dripping off his nose. He looked pathetic. A small part of her felt bad, but it wasn’t enough to invite him up to her place.

When she turned back to her apartment the door to the SUV opened. She didn’t notice. She didn’t notice when a large masculine shape followed her steps up the first flight, and then the second flight of stairs. Irritation at the world had muted everything but the goal of an evening alone.

“Emma Ketchum?”

“Hmm?” She was half turned when she felt the kiss of a blade against her throat. It was cold and sharp. A single drop of water shimmered like a diamond as it danced down the blade and over a hand. It was a man’s hand, strong and thick fingered. Veins stood out beneath the kind of golden brown skin you either got by accident of birth, or accident of wealth. The first finger had seven crosses tattooed in black ink lined up down the digit.

Crosses, she knew, meant kills.

“You even think about screaming for help and I will slit your pretty throat, do you understand?”

She nodded once. A lock of hair too dark to be her own fell over her shoulder. A second arm snaked around her belly. She felt her stomach turn to lead, sick and heavy.

The arm flexed and she stumbled back against a body. Emma could hear her heartbeat pounding behind her eyes. This wasn’t a skinny, barely eighteen-year-old boy. She struggled as much as the knife would let her, but his grip was unrelenting. This was the form of someone who knew how to use their body like a weapon. She swallowed hard, which only made her feel the blade that much more.

“Open the door.” His voice was thick with Latin roots. “Slowly.”

Emma hesitated. More than anything she didn’t want him in her apartment, where he could do in private whatever it was he was thinking of doing right now. The lack of space between him and her door, however, was doing nothing but giving him every advantage. With hands that shook more than Emma would have liked she unlocked the door to her too empty apartment.

He kept the blade to her neck and used his free hand to rip her bag off her shoulder and toss it into the hallway. The sound of wet canvas and heavy books plopping against the floor echoed.

“Please,” she whispered softly, picturing the worst. “Please don’t do this. What do you want?”

She felt the dull brush of his stubble against her cheek. Hadn’t she read somewhere that if a guy didn’t wear a mask when he attacked you, he was probably going to kill you? A whimper escaped her throat. She realized she was crying; she didn’t know when it had started.

“Step forward.” His instructions where whispered against her ear. She could smell the mixture of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. She felt bile burn in the back of her throat.

Every terrifying picture of every morbid headline she’d ever read surged to the forefront of her mind, leaving her breathless and shivering. Would they find her in the morning? Would she even be alive? Would she be in one piece?

“I don’t understand. Who are you?” she pleaded.

“The fucking tooth fairy.”

She took a single step into her apartment on legs that felt like Jell-O. Her mind was screaming Run, but her body wasn’t listening. She couldn’t even remember her Aikido training. Everything was just a blur of fear and uncertainty and self-doubt.

“Keep stepping.”

He shut the door behind them. The only light in her apartment came from the lamppost outside. The dull flicker, muted by the rain, did little to offer anything close to illumination. Somehow the dark helped her think. She couldn’t see him, not really. Just a vague outline of a large bodied male.

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing a long line of her neck. The blade scrapped and then cut. Her skin gave ever so slightly. Blood, hot and metallic, ribboned down her throat. She squirmed, but he held her tight.

“Please stop.”

“Tell your daddy he needs to watch his fucking back.”

Few things could have surprised her more. Her father? Emma hadn’t seen or spoken to her father since she was eighteen, nearly seven years ago. She had done her best to live apart from him, to keep her life separated from his, but it hadn’t mattered. The sharp press of the blade proved well enough that it hadn’t mattered at all.

“I don’t even talk to my dad,” she managed to gasp out, hoping beyond hope that this would make the attacker go away. It didn’t. His body pressed harder to hers, enveloping her in the scent of cheap cigarettes. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Eh. You better start, puta.” The hand on her side slithered upwards. At first she thought his shirt had thin sleeves, but her eyes adjusted to see that his arm was decorated with tattoos in dark ink. The largest was the Virgin Mary, with two buxom angles forming a protective ring over the praying lady. The wings danced as his hand paused just beneath her breast. He made some shift in his hips that had her stomach jumping into her throat.

No, she thought, anything but that. Higher thought shut down. All she wanted was to get away. Suddenly her body reacted without the impediment of her mind. Her hands shifted over the tattooed arm that held her to his chest. Her heart stopped pumping, the blood went to ice in her veins.

He whispered words she didn’t know, and didn’t care to hear. Her hips shoved backwards. He took it as an invitation and his arm slithered upwards. She stepped back harder and his body rocked forward. She used the momentum to fling his bigger, heavier body over hers, and he went down in a surprised crash.

She didn’t wait; she ripped the door open and pulled her keys from the lock. She had just enough frame of mind left to snag her backpack as she flew down the stairs and back out into the rain. The parking lot was seven blocks away, across wet and muddy terrain.

Her Buick, white enough that it glimmered under the dull lights of the lot, shone like a beacon of safety.

The cold water hitting her face did little to alleviate the shaking of her hands as she struggled to unlock the ancient door.

She shoved the key into the ignition and felt the shudder of the Buick roar to life with a flick of her wrist. She saw the apartment building door open, the single lamppost illuminating the man behind it. She put the car in reverse and squealed out of the parking lot.

The farther she got from the college the calmer she felt. The tears evaporated and her heart slowed back to a normal rate. Slowly, her trembling went from terrified to angry Her blood went from sluggish to boiling. That was her apartment, her home. Someone had attacked her, and for what? Her father. Her damn father.

“Damnit,” she growled, slapping her fist against the steering wheel. “Damnit!”

With a screech of her tires Emma pulled into a twenty-four-hour diner. A glance at the clock on her dash said it was 11:30, but it was busy here. There was unexpected comfort in that. Normally, Emma preferred the company of animals to people, but being alone right now didn’t sound particularly awesome.

She waited until she had a menu and a glass of water before she pulled her phone out.

“Dad?” she said when she heard someone pick up. “We need to talk.”

Chapter 2

The ancient Buick was a white ghost on the empty streets of small town USA. Its engine purred like an asthmatic kitten after the near four-hour trip from campus into the suburbs. The familiar sprawl of cookie cutter houses and name brand shopping centers enveloped her. The streets, named after trees or flowers or barely remembered famous people, were well lit and the houses were dark, as it was nearly two in the morning. Somewhere between Poplar and Oak was Dahlia Lane. With a deep sigh Emma took a hard right.

She counted the mailboxes as she passed. She didn’t need to. 209 Dahlia Lane had been her address for eighteen years, and even if she’d somehow forgotten, there were five Harleys parked out front. It was definitely her father’s place. The garage door was open, spilling a long line of golden light across poured concrete.

The grass was green, and three days past needing a mower. A faded gnome had taken residence in an overgrown garden. The neighbors were bound to be traumatized.

Ashland, Oregon was a small speck on the map, tucked between picturesque mountains and less picturesque highways. With a population that had just hit twenty thousand, it was officially a town. There was one high school, two supermarkets, and twenty churches. It was the idyllic place to raise a kid. Or, in her father’s grand estimations, lead a life of crime.

Emma navigated herself into the driveway, courteously empty, and took another deep breath before shutting off the engine.

“You can do this. You can totally do this. You don’t want to, but you can.” She didn’t get out of the car. Suddenly it all seemed like a bad idea. The worst idea.

A hundred memories of her years in the split-level house came rushing back at her. Police officers sitting outside while she tried to ride her brand new Barbie pink bike. Her seventh birthday party when none of her friends would show up because their parents were afraid of letting them go over to the criminal’s house. Her favorite, of course, was when her prom date wouldn’t come to the door because he was too scared of everything he had heard about her dad. He’d ended up leaving without her because her dad had demanded he come to the door.

That was the kind of thing that happened when your dad ran the local chapter for the notorious motorcycle club, The Beasts. It hadn’t been normal, and she’d never call it happy, but it had been her childhood. Emma had wanted to leave it all behind her, but it hadn’t quite worked out that way.

A sharp knock on the window jolted her out of her reverie. She didn’t need to see the face to know it was one of her father’s men. The leather vest with the stylized dog surrounded by flames was a bit of a giveaway. She tugged the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car.

“Emma?” The voice sounded muted through the glass, but familiar. “That you?”

“Hi, Kellan.”

Of course, It just had to be Kellan, she snipped mentally. Of all the guys who could have come out to check on her, it had to be him. It couldn’t have been grumpy ol’ Vinny, or friendly Leon. She could have handled that, maybe even enjoyed it, but this? She glanced down at her shapeless hoodie and thrift store jeans. The outfit had been perfectly okay for a final exam and a walk through the rain. It was not exactly what Emma wanted to be wearing when Kellan saw her again.

When her prom date had stood her up, it had been Kellan she’d daydreamed about dancing with. An image of poor Marco walking in the rain filled her mind, and the irony of her similar situation was not lost on her.

“Holy shit, you grew up.” The shock was overt, and nearly painful.

The garage light was behind him, blurring all of his features, but Emma didn’t need to see him. She knew what Kellan looked like, from the roots of his raven-black hair to the broad shoulders and long legs.

Kellan had been exactly the kind of boy everyone expected her to end up with because of who her father was, and he’d been exactly the kind of guy her mother told her would give her nothing but trouble. It hadn’t really mattered what anyone said, or thought. She’d developed the kind of crush that a girl could only get when she was young enough to believe Romeo and Juliet was still a love story.

Emma had spent a good part of her teen years admiring the hard line of his jaw, and the perpetual five o’clock shadow there. She could have drawn the scar that went from shoulder to his elbow with her eyes closed. She’d even enjoyed the tattoos that kept popping up on his arms. He’d been plenty grown then, and it looked as if her time in college had just filled him out more.

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms beneath her hoodie, which still had the scent of old rain and a long car trip on it. Wonderful. “Yeah, I did. Listen, I’d really like to just get inside. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Sorry. You okay?” He stepped closer, out of the ring of illumination from the garage, and suddenly she could see the misty hazel of his eyes. He was just as handsome as she remembered, all angular features and a deep cleft chin, but there was a new scar across his cheek. It was shaped like a cat’s tail, winding over his jaw, and ending near his chin. It should have taken away from his otherwise perfect appearance. It didn’t.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired and hungry, and I kinda of wanna take a shower and change and maybe have a good yelling match with my dad.”

“Uh…”

Whatever he might have said was interrupted by a baritone woof. Emma’s head turned as a massive dog came barreling out from the garage. He was a thick bodied creature with fur speckled every shade of gray and brown. His dark ears flopped around a solemn-looking face. He looked like a cross between a mastiff and a bulldog and the world’s biggest rat. He was easily the ugliest mutt she had ever laid eyes on.

“Well, hello!” Emma immediately sank down to one knee as the dog snuffled at her in animal curiosity. “Who is this handsome fella?”

“That’s Rocco,” Kellan offered. “He’s…uh…he’s mine.”

She glanced up at him, her golden brow quirking up her forehead. “You named your dog Rocco?”

“Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” He looked embarrassed. “I dunno.”

Out of habit she ran her hands over the dog in inspection. He happily flopped over to one side and offered up his round belly. A short stub of a tail wagged so hard he dug a shallow groove in the ground. There were scars along his chin and along his shoulder. She took a long look at them. They were the kind a dog got from fighting. One ear had a tear that had long since healed. Yet, for all that, all of the marks were old and well healed. “He’s well taken care of.” She gave the dog’s muscular side a final pat and he flopped back over.

“He’s a good dog.” Kellan lifted his chin with pride.

“He used to fight,” she said, running one finger over one of the old scars.

“Not anymore,” Kellan offered, kneeling down next to her. His tone was sure. He repeated, “He’s a good dog.”

The scarred biker was close enough for her to feel the heat that rose naturally off of him. It felt nice, nicer than she wanted to admit. The strong line of his shoulder bumped against her arm as he ran a finger beneath Rocco’s chin and gave it a good scratch. It took what little strength of will she had left to keep herself from leaning against him.

Kellan was just the kind of guy women had lusty thoughts for. It wasn’t just that he was attractive, he was definitely that, but there was a certain magnetic something about his presence. He, like Rocco, had the contained power of a fighter beneath an easy-on-the-eyes exterior. Though, for Emma, it wasn’t just that. For all he was cute, he was one of her father’s cronies.

“I’m sure he is, I’m sure he is!” She scratched her way across his muscled flanks, much to the animal’s delight.

“You were always good with mutts.” He chuckled and titled his head towards her. His lips were close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath against her brow when he continued. “Or cats, even birds. Man, I remember you used to bring every stray home you could find.”

She laughed and shook her head. He sat back on his haunches, and suddenly she could breathe again. A little of her stress eased. “Well, it made up for not having any siblings. At least a little.”

He looked over at her. “You had me.”

“Kellan, you were never my brother.” Thank God.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His grin was all boyish charm and embarrassment. He bumped his shoulder against hers companionably. “But I get it.”

Their eyes met and she felt that same old crush hit her with all the power of a teenage girl’s heart. Her blood hummed merrily in her veins. Their fingers bumped against one another as they absently stroked animal fur. For a split second she thought she saw his gaze stray to her lips. She almost leaned towards him.

Why shouldn’t she kiss him? It had been a very rough night. Okay, sure, he was one of her father’s men. Yes, he was also a criminal, but he was Kellan, and it wasn’t like he would hurt her. Maybe a quick tumble would help ease all the scary feelings. She sighed. Trying to make light of a bad decision was still a bad decision.

Thankfully the mutt chose that moment to remind her that he wanted enthusiastic petting. She obliged.

“What I mean, though, is that you had all of us. The club, you know?” He was looking back towards the house, rather than at her.

“Yeah,” she said, sure the moment was some kind of fluke of her imagination. Stress did that kind of thing. She glanced down. “I know.”

For all that she loved every kind of animal, Emma had a special soft spot for big ugly mutts, and Rocco was, perhaps, the biggest, ugliest mutt she had ever come across. When she was finished with her inspection, and follow up loving session, he rolled back over onto his paws and sprang to his feet and flopped bodily against her.

“He likes you.”

“Well, I’m easy to like.” She patted a hand on the broad flatness of the canine’s head. “I should probably get inside. I’m sorry, puppy.”

“He’s not a puppy,” Kellan defended, standing up and shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

“Oh, all dogs are puppies, all of them.” She tried to keep her tone light and cheerful, but the memory of what she was doing here came crashing down on her. She squared her shoulders and put her stern face back on. Her father was not going to get away with this. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

Kellan put a hand on her shoulder as she started to walk past him. She could smell metal and dog and dirt on his skin. It shouldn’t have been an interesting mix. She shouldn’t even be thinking that men were interesting so soon after her assault, but it was Kellan, her teenage crush, so she gave herself some nostalgic leeway. The heat from his hand spread down her arm. What was going on with her body tonight?

“Listen, Emma, about that. I get that you’re pissed—”

“Pissed?” Emma demanded. She jerked her shoulder out of his grasp and shook her head hard enough to make her pale ponytail dance. “No, Kellan, I was pissed about two seconds after I was attacked. I was pissed when I had to wash blood off my neck and explain it away to some well-meaning waitress. I was pissed when I realized I had to leave everything behind in my apartment and come crawling back here. I am so very much beyond pissed.”

Rocco glanced back and forth between the two humans, seemingly trying to understand why the fun had stopped. His ears pricked forward in concern of raised voices. He took a faithful step towards Kellan.

The human male moved in front of her with all the liquid grace of a cat. How had she forgotten how quick that big body could be? “I get that, I really do, but please just hold off for a few. Your dad has been through a lot. I mean it.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure,” Emma snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I mean, it must be so hard being a criminal.”

Kellan spat to one side. His misty eyes took on a hard edge and he jutted his chin out at her. “How would you know? I mean, it’s not like you bother to come around, you don’t call.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“No, but I know what your dad’s been going through. All I’m asking is that you just go easy on him until you hear everything. It isn’t much to ask, is it?”

She shoved passed him. “Whatever.”

It was more like a time capsule than a house. The garage was filled with mechanic’s gear and Christmas ornaments from the ’80s. The side door still had an offset hinge so she had to tug just a little harder to let herself in. Nostalgia hit her like a hammer.

It was just like she remembered. The hallway between the garage and the living room was full of pictures, most of them were of her. It was a timeline of the first eighteen years of her life made of Polaroids, school pictures, and candid photography. Her mother, as blonde and Nordic as Emma, was only in them for the first decade. It wasn’t lost on Emma that there hadn’t been any new photos since she went away to college.

She paused at a particularly large one. There she was, perhaps eleven or twelve, standing next to a blue ribbon science project. She was beaming with pride. Her father stood to the other side of the board, tall enough that he barely fit in the picture. Everything about her father was bigger than life, from his laugh to his appetite, to the way he ordered everyone about like a kind of king.

King isn’t too far off the mark.

The living room, once she got there, was a mess, but that wasn’t a surprise either. Her father had never been a great housekeeper. Every flat surface was decorated with bills, or old newspapers, or paper plates. The only thing she didn’t see was empty beer cans. There wasn’t even the lingering scent of cigarettes in the air. That was strange.

The only alcohol she could see was being held by the inner circle of Beasts members, who were occupying every seat the living room had to offer. That wasn’t strange. She wondered if they had been pulled away from anything more important at two in the morning to answer whatever summons her dad had issued. The only empty spot was her dad’s Lay-Z-Boy. As a little girl she had thought of it as a throne. At twenty-five, she still did.

The gathered faces were familiar, though a few years older, as were the uniform they all wore. Jeans faded to various levels of comfort and white t-shirts all around. Sturdy boots and sturdier belts were nearly all in shades of black. Could you be a big tough biker if you wore brown instead? Vests of leather, or denim depending, completed the ensemble. Emma thought they looked like the ragtag cast members of some criminal television show. There were smiles when they saw her, and offered greetings. Some were warmer than others.

“Emma-girl!” A particularly large man in the harder part of his 50s, with a beard nearly long enough to tuck into his belt, surged to his feet and swept her up into a hearty hug. His smile was a mile wide, and he didn’t even spill his beer when he swung her around. “Shit, sweetie, lookit you!”

“Hi, Uncle Leon,” she managed when her breath wheezed back into her lungs. Despite everything she found herself smiling at him. “How are you?”

He plunked her down and bent just enough that his six-foot-four frame could peer at the wound on her neck. His lips, half hidden by the beard, formed into a paternally disapproving line. “Here I was, ’bout to ask you the same thing. But I got eyes, don’t I? And I can see for myself you’re shaken.” He waited a beat. “And you’re too skinny.”

There was a chorus of masculine laughter and a few well-meaning jokes at her expense. Of all her father’s biker-buddies, Uncle Leon was her favorite. He was tall as an oak and thin as the neck of the beer bottle he held. He had always been there when her father couldn’t, which had been pretty often.

“I’ll be all right.” She patted a hand against his fuzzy cheek.

His frown rearranged itself into a grin. There was a lot less hair on his head than there used to be. She could see dark spots on his brow line that hadn’t been there before. How long had she been gone?

“Damn right you will be.” He wrapped one arm around her and hauled her to his skinny chest.

For a moment she was wrapped up in a safe scent and a familiar friend. Tears, hot and unwanted, rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t hug him back, but her hands stopped making fists. He wrapped his other arm around her and she started to shake. “I don’t know who he was.”

He nodded and stepped back, taking her shoulders in his strong hands. “Hey, we are gonna find out.”

“Hell yes, we are.”

Her father’s voice was as gruff as it had always been, but she heard an unexpected weariness. She hated that. She didn’t want him weary; she wanted him to be the same gruff, no-nonsense, distant man he’d always been. The one she’d fought with a hundred times.

“Why are people attacking me if—”

The angry words got stuck in her throat when she whirled around. Emma had to look down to see her father, which may very well have been a first. The wheelchair that held him squeaked as he maneuvered in front of her. After a moment of shock passed she managed to see the oxygen tank hanging from a storage bag attached to the handles in back.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “What happened?”

He looked like a shriveled version of himself. His hair was gone. The skin was too tight over his forehead, and not tight enough near his mouth. A breathing tube wound its way over his body, which used to sport a hefty belly, but not anymore. His vest, leather so comfortably worn it hung like silk, sported a thumb-sized patch that read simply President, and beneath that was another that read First 7.

“How did this semester go?” Mac Ketchum asked it like any father might ask his daughter about her college studies. Which would have been fine if they were just any father and daughter. He settled his elbows on the armrests, straightened as much as his body would let him. Pain tightened his hazel eyes. If anyone else saw it, they didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to hear him say the word cancer, it was written all over him. Two years ago a desperate family brought an old basset hound into Dr. Oswald’s place. The sour scent of chemotherapy was something a body never forgot. Her father reeked of it. His head and face were bald and shinning, and his jowls were sagging loosely to his chin.

“Answer me,” she demanded anyway. Emma crossed her arms over her chest, but it did nothing to ease the angry and cold ache that had suddenly swelled up there. This couldn’t be her father. Emma’s father was as big as life and twice as strong. He wasn’t this old man. “What happened?”

“Cancer,” Kellan called from the far side of the room. He shoved a hand through his dark hair and shook his head as Rocco thumped through the room, stopping to sniff at everyone. “Lung cancer.”

“All those cigarettes finally did me in.” Mac Ketchum tried to laugh, but it ended in a sickly cough. The ache in her chest became a pain.

After a moment Kellan sauntered across the room like a big leather and denim cat, and plopped himself down into her father’s old leather Lay-Z-Boy. He lounged against the worn brown leather with the ease and comfort of someone who sat there a lot. Rocco jumped up after him, finding a way to lie across Kellan’ long body. Both of them settled their eyes on her.

That struck her as odd. Her father had always been particular about who sat in his chair. She heard the squeak of the wheelchair and thought maybe he had a new chair now. Emma felt sick to her stomach and her feelings took on a complicated edge. “How long have you known?” she demanded.

Her father didn’t quite meet her eyes. “A while.”

She didn’t want to ask the next question that came to mind. She wanted to be angry with him, to snap at him, to demand answers to all of the fear she’d been dealing with the past few hours, but her mouth betrayed her. “How…how long?”

He didn’t answer for a while. “Emma, I will answer all of that, but we have other things to discuss.”

She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream that there was nothing more important than knowing about his health, but she couldn’t quite bring the words to her lips. She sank onto the couch, taking the place Leon had sprung from. The worn fabric sagged beneath her. She looked around the all too familiar living room and felt more loss than she had ever known. She glanced at her father, sitting in a wheelchair, his audible breathing the loudest sound in the room.

“Emma-girl.” Uncle Leon’s voice was as gentle as she had ever heard it. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell us what happened.”

He tucked a cold can of soda into her hand. She didn’t drink it, but holding it helped. She told them everything she could remember. How she was on her way home from the vet clinic. From the run-in with Marco, to the attack, to stopping at a diner to call her father. Emma had assumed she would cry when she talked about it, or at least get a little loud. She didn’t. She spilled it all with the emotionless distance of a shock victim.

“So?” she demanded at the end of it. “What’s going on?”

“Most of it’s club business,” her father started.

Anger swelled up inside of her, burning away the cold and empty feeling. Her head was beginning to ache with all the different emotions experienced in such a short amount of time. “Are you kidding me?”

“Emma, don’t make this harder than it has to be. We gotta know.”

Emma wasn’t sure which of her father’s men spoke, she didn’t care. This entire day had been too much and she certainly wasn’t going to listen to some guy’s crap about how hard she was making things. “I didn’t make anything hard.” She got to her feet. Her hands became fists so tight that she felt the ends of her short nails bite into her own palms. “I was doing just fine, thank you very much. I was going to college, stressing out over classes and planning for my future. Normal stuff. I was just minding my own business and daydreaming about lasagna when someone attacked me!” She hated that her voice was growing shriller with every word that was coming out.

“Emma,” he father’s voice was as gentle as she had ever heard it, “I’m sorry.”

She was stunned into momentary silence. It was then that Emma knew something was very wrong. Mac Ketchum did not apologize, not to anyone or for anything. He was the leader of The Beasts and as such his word was law, or at least whatever passed for law in a motorcycle club. He hadn’t apologized when he missed her first science fair, or when their dog died, or even when her mother left. How bad had things gotten?

“What’s going on?”

“For your own safety, I can’t tell you everything.” Her father held up one hand when Emma opened her mouth to argue with him. The skin on his palm was so thin and sickly she could see his veins. “But I can tell you I never expected you to be hurt. If I had thought for one moment you would be, I would have called or something.”

“Or something?”

“Hell, Emma, I don’t know. You made it pretty clear when you left here that you didn’t wanna be a part of my life. I thought I was, you know, respecting that.”

It was true and everyone knew it. Emma had already been packed the day she graduated, boxes piled into her crappy four-door even as she pulled on her cap and gown. With her acceptance letter in one hand and what little money she had managed to scrounge together from part-time jobs in the other, she had driven off into the sunset while everyone else had been celebrating finishing high school.

“Fine,” she said. “All right, fine, but you should have told me when this happened. When you were…diagnosed.”

He laughed, but it was a humorless sound. “Yeah, sure, and what would you have done? Rushed home to help the dad who was never there for you? Dropped all your studies for the jerk who couldn’t be bothered to show up for you? Yeah, I don’t think so. You were staying away and making something of yourself. I sure as hell wasn’t going to interrupt.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“The hell it wasn’t,” Kellan put in. He swung his legs down, disrupting the dog in his lap. “We all made that choice. You were gone and you were doing the best thing you could do.”

Emma shook her head again, but she chose not to say anything. What was there to say to that? They were right. She had left. She had severed ties with them, this whole town and all of the people in it. At the time it had seemed like the best idea. What had been here for her? Nothing, that’s what. Maybe she had been wrong.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, “I guess so. I just…I don’t like that I didn’t know anything. I mean, I still don’t know much. What’s going on? Why me?”

Kellan and Mac exchanged a look. A long conversation was held in that single exchange and Emma felt like an intruder. She had always felt like an outsider where the two of them were concerned. Then again, how could she compete with the son her dad had always wanted?

“Emma, how much do you know about the club?” Mac asked.

Emma blew out a breath. It was an odd question, but she felt a need to answer it. “Not much…too much. I don’t know. I mean, I know other parents were terrified of letting any of my friends come over. Boys who wouldn’t date me because of my ‘badass’ dad.” She rolled her eyes.

Kellan chuckled. “You dated pussies.”

“At least they weren’t criminals,” she shot back.

He leveled a smile at her. “Maybe you needed a little more criminal in your life.”

She rolled her eyes, wondering how she could have ever thought he was going to kiss her. Had that really only been twenty minutes ago? “I had quite enough of that in my life, thank you very much.”

Mac broke in. “Yeah, I know it wasn’t easy for you. I didn’t mean to make life hard, you know.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard.” She tugged her legs to her chest and sighed.

“I wish I could say that it was gonna get easier.” Her father hung his head in an act of shame that she had never seen him display.

How bad was this going to be? Apologies? Shame? Understanding? These were traits she had never known her father to display. What had happened in the past few years to make him so unlike the gruff and distant man she remembered? She glanced at the chair and the tubes of oxygen going to his nose.

“What’s happened?” she finally asked.

Leon cleared his throat and sat forward, speaking for the first time since she started her story. “We are pretty sure the guy who attacked you was one of Gabriel’s men.”

“Gabriel?” she asked. She searched her memories for the mention of the name, she couldn’t recall it. “Who is Gabriel?”

“Drug cartel sicario with dreams of being a lieutenant,” Kellan offered. “Second generation Cuban American, claims he’s got family up in the big leagues. Was well on his way to being taken seriously before—”

“Shut your mouth,” Mac snapped. “She doesn’t need to know everything.”

A sicario was a lieutenant in the cartel’s chain of command. Emma racked her brain to remember what little she knew about loosely organized crime. Sicarios usually lorded over a particular area, and had some men beneath them to carry out orders and get their hands dirty. It was like a chapter president, making him toe-to-toe with her dad.

Emma flopped against the back of the couch hard enough to make it shudder. It was a petulant move, and she knew it. But it was two in the morning and her world was upside down, she had earned the right to a little petulance. “Yeah, because keeping me in the dark helped a lot.”

“Girl’s got a point,” another of the group responded. She didn’t look up, but she was pretty sure it was big grumpy Vinny.

There was a silent council meeting to which Emma was excluded. She let them have it. It gave her enough time to pull her brain back together. A glance at her cell phone told her she had no calls and it was a little after three. While she’d spent plenty of nights seeing the sun come up during finals, she was beginning to sag.

“Emma?” Uncle Leon’s voice called her back. “You need to go lie down, sweetie?”

“No,” she said, “not yet. Not until everything is said and done.”

“Vinny over here was asking you if you could describe your attacker.” Kellan prompted. He was watching her closely, with a small amount of concern.

For a moment she was a teenage girl again and her belly was doing flip-flops. She shook it off. She needed sleep. Her brain wouldn’t be feeding her all these alternating feelings if she got a good eight hours of sleep. “I dunno. I guess.” She sat up in her seat. She must have dozed off since everyone had moved around. “I really don’t know. I remember he was tall, he smelled like cheap liquor and cheaper cigarettes. Wait…he had tattoos.”

She could almost feel the attention sharpen. It was like being caught in a spotlight. Eyes in every available hue turned in her direction and focused. She squirmed. Right now she did not want that attention.

“Better than fingerprints,” Kellan snorted. “What of?”

“Catholic symbolism stuff. Angels and the Virgin Mary.” She shrugged. Her ponytail suddenly felt too tight. With a careless gesture she tugged it free and let her hair tumble down. Her nails scratched listlessly over her scalp. The ache in her head was slowly turning into a migraine. She was so tired. “Pretty similar to what a lot of pious gangsters have.”

“The Virgin, was she done in black and white, or colors?” Mac asked. He navigated his chair forward, stopping right in front of her.

“Black and white,” she explained. Her hand swept over her drooping eyes. “All his tattoos were  grayscale.”

“Michael,” the men chorused.

“Michael? Like Gabriel and Michael? Biblical? Really?” Emma rolled her eyes, feeling a fresh wave of weary frustration. “That’s…wow. That’s so not awesome.”

“Pretty sure some of his men have tattoos, but I don’t think he’d trust this kind of attack to one of his lesser guys. It was personal.” Leon offered.

“No shit,” Mac snorted. “He went after my fucking daughter. It’s personal. It’s—” His words were swallowed up in a coughing fit. It wasn’t the dry cough of someone who was getting over an illness, but the wet, hacking of a body trying to rid itself of something horrible. His shoulders shook, and the chair squeaked with every jerk of his body. “Gentlemen,” he croaked out, “I appreciate you coming over, but I’d like to speak with my daughter now.”

It was an order, no matter how weakly stated, and everyone knew it. As a unit they got up and tossed their beers into the recycling bin. The clatter of glass on plastic echoed hollowly.

One by one her father’s friends said their goodbyes. There were hugs, and kisses, and promises to keep her safe. She responded, but she didn’t really hear them. The effort to get through the evening had sunk well into her bones and taken away what little energy she had left.

“You take extra good care of yourself, Emma-girl.”

“I’ll try, Uncle Leon.”

“Kellan,” Mac said, “I’d like you to stick around.”

Kellan, who, like a good solider, was following all the others out the garage door, stopped in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder, looking concerned. Suddenly she saw that the patch on his vest read Vice President. She frowned. That was what Leon’s used to say. When had that switch happened? What had she missed?

“Rocco and I could crash at Leon’s, no big,” Kellan offered. “Or even go back to our own place; it’s been a while since I actually slept in my own bed.”

“This is your home, at least for now,” Mac said, shaking his bald head. “And I gotta lot to say, some of it concerns you.”

“I didn’t move back in permanently, Mac. Just helping out.” Kellan hesitated by the door to the garage. The light from outside cased a long shadow across the floor.

It should have been a surprise that he was living here, but it wasn’t. Her father hadn’t called her when he got sick; he had turned to Kellan. Why wouldn’t he? Kellan was the son Mac Ketchum had always wanted. A dutiful son to follow in his boot steps. She had never been willing to be the kind of daughter he wanted. They were both stubborn.

“You have been here two years, I don’t care if you are still paying mortgage at your other place. I’m not kicking you out tonight. So sit down, shut up.”

“If you’re sure.” Kellan dragged a hand down his face, clearly not wanting to argue. Emma couldn’t blame him.

She wasn’t sure she was okay with it, but no one bothered to ask her. No one ever did.

Chapter 3

A minute later she heard the roar of five bikes come to life and haul off down the road. She wondered how many people it woke up, and who might call the police for the disturbance. She watched them from the window, driving off like modern day knights. Not the good ones you saw in movies, who rescued maidens and slayed dragons, but the historic enforcers to some little king’s law. She decided no one was going to call the cops.

The moment they were gone, reality crashed down on her. Her neck hurt, and she was fairly sure she’d wrenched her shoulder flipping a very large man over it. She had snapped at her teen crush. Her father had cancer, lung cancer, and no one had told her. All of her things were in her apartment. And she still had no idea how she was going to pay for next semester.

It was just too much to handle.

Emma felt Kellan’s eyes on her but she didn’t bother looking. Him staying or going wasn’t going to change anything at all. She kept her eyes firmly on the cluttered living room table and wondered what was going to happen.

“Dad…can I get you anything?” Emma turned away from the window.

It was Kellan who answered. “Water. I got a bunch of bottles of it sitting out on the counter. He doesn’t like it cold anymore.”

Emma moved to the kitchen, thankful to have something for her hands to do. She popped open a bottle and brought it back to her father. He wheezed out a thanks before taking a long swig of it.

“Mac, it’s late, or early, depending on how you want to figure it.” Kellan stood up. A nearly asleep Rocco rolled down his legs and flopped to the floor, happy to stretch out over his favorite human’s feet.

“You trying to send me to bed, boy?” Mac asked without any real malice.

Kellan’s lip quirked up into a grin. “Nope. Just pointing out the truth, old man.”

Emma took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Apparently it wasn’t just Emma who was tired and frustrated. Kellan dislodged his feet and took a few steps around the living room, gathering up some of the garbage and depositing it in a trashcan.

In the more discerning light of the indoors, Emma realized that while Kellan had filled out, he had also lost weight. There was a gaunt line to his cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes. She had taken care of animals who were in hospice care, and that was hard. She could only imagine that the twenty-four-hour job of taking care of her stubborn father wasn’t easy.

“I know it’s late, and that I have no right to ask anything of you, but what are we going to do?” Emma asked as she tore her eyes away from Kellan.

Mac’s gaze dropped to his barely empty bottle of water. “I have an idea, and no one is going to like it, but I think it’s for the best.”

Emma’s imagination put together twenty horrific scenarios in as many seconds. Most of them ended up with her in jail, but none of them were appealing. “Like what?”

There was another long silence. It wasn’t like her dad to hesitate. None of this was like her dad and it was making her uncomfortable. She wasn’t seeing him as the king sitting on top of biker hill, but like a man who was struggling to hold things together. She didn’t like this.

“Dad?” she asked when the silence continued on for too long.

He locked eyes with her, his dark brown to her crystalline blue, and reached out to take her hands. She couldn’t remember the last time he had touched her. His skin had that particular satin feel that came with old age. Where were the calluses that years of working on bikes had given him? She could feel every bone in his grip when his fingers tightened on hers.

“Emma, I love you. I hope you know that. I haven’t always been good to you, and I haven’t always taken care of you, but I love you.”

Emotions formed a ball in her throat, one she couldn’t seem to swallow or speak around. Once again her vision was blurry with tears. She tried to blink them back, but they came anyway. All she could do was nod.

“I wanna fix that. I wanna make sure you are taken care of.” There was something about the way he said it that gave it weight. He wrapped his fingers over hers and brought them to his lips, planting a paternal kiss on them. “I don’t think Gabriel is gonna stop. He’s got a big problem with me, and now it is gonna extend to mine.”

“Dad, what are you saying?” Her hands tried to pull away from his, but his grip tightened.

“I’m saying this could be a real easy fix.” He was dancing around the subject. The scenarios in her brain were beginning to feel more and more real.

“Could be?” she prompted.

“I just need you to trust me. You gotta know that all I want is to keep you safe.”

“Okay. What do you need me to do?” She kept her voice level and even. She worried if she spoke too much, she might just start to panic. What was he going to ask of her? Take on a new identity? Go live with another group of bikers? What could be so bad that he didn’t just tell her what she was going to do?

He reached back with one hand, motioning Kellan up. The younger man, who had been leaning against the little island that separated the kitchen from the living room, swung himself up and wandered over with more agility than she could have managed. The two men gripped wrists and then Mac tugged Kellan closer. He took her hand and put it in Kellan’s.

It took both of them a full half minute to understand.

“Dad, no!” Emma called out, jerking her hand out of Kellan’s. It seemed to burn.

At the same time Kellan said, “I can’t.”

Rocco dashed between everyone in a delirious desire to understand what was going on.

“Can’t?” her dad asked. “Or wont?”

“Both. God, Kellan, say something,” Emma demanded. She hoped Kellan, who her father had always preferred, would be able to talk some sense into him.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Mac. No, I’m going to go out and say that this is a bad idea.”

“Exactly,” Emma said.

“Why?” Mac demanded, summoning that old boom to his voice. He motioned a large hand in Emma’s general direction. “He marries you, it gives you protection, it gives you stability, it gives you money. It gives you everything you need.”

“That’s not why you get married, Dad. At least not nowadays.”  She crossed her arms firmly over her chest. This wasn’t fair; this was not fair at all. She would be lying if she said she had never thought of getting married to Kellan. In her fantasies, however, he wanted to marry her, too. It only took one look at the hard line of Kellan’s jaw to see he wanted none of this.

“You got better reasons?” Mac demanded.

“Yeah, I dunno, maybe love? That seems like a good one.”

“Emma, love doesn’t keep you safe.” He said it so softly, like one speaking to a child who just didn’t understand the way the world worked.

“Mac, I love you like a father, man, you know that,” Kellan stepped in. His voice was surprisingly calm despite the bit of red that was working along his throat. “But you know I don’t intend on getting married to anyone.”

“Yeah, so you’ve said. Well, I’m saying differently.”

Kellan shook his head. “I would do anything for you but—”

“Then do this.”

It was three in the morning, and Emma was beyond tired, and scared. In a better time, she may have been able to argue more. She shook her head and started down the hallway towards what used to be her bedroom. “I am not talking about this right now.”

“Then when, Emma? I don’t have long.”

It was a cheap shot, but she stopped walking. “That was mean. Completely uncalled for.”

“Well, I don’t got time to play nice.”

Emma turned around. Her father looked like a faded memory of himself. She didn’t need a doctor, or him for that matter, to tell her he didn’t have much longer left on this earth. She hated that. “Tell me why I should do this. Why you shouldn’t just keep me safe?”

“Because that’s what I’ve been doing, and it isn’t enough. They don’t believe you’ll be protected. This will make them believe.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Emma demanded.

“What, your life isn’t enough?”

“If I marry Kellan, the life I had is over anyway.” Emma threw her hands up. “I’ll have to come live here, school will be over…all of it.”

“The hell you will,” Kellan put it. “I’ll keep you safe, but I won’t make you give up everything.”

“Oh, well, that’s magnanimous of you,” she sneered.

“Emma…” her father warned.

“Dad.” she retorted.

“I’ve never asked you or anything, Emma. Not once.”

“Funny,” she shot back. “I asked you for everything, but I never got any of it.”

He laughed. It would have been a cheerful sound if he hadn’t started coughing again. He took another sip of water to ease it, not that it did much. “How the hell did I help make you? God, Emma, you are smarter than me by far, all that knowledge up in your head. I’ve known that, I’ve always known that, but now you got all this fire. I don’t know where it came from, but I know you are a good girl, a smart girl. Fuck, I am proud of you.”

She didn’t know what to think of his words, or how to respond to them. It might have come easily or naturally to another girl who had spent years being close to her father. Emma wasn’t one of them. Emma was struck mute by her father’s openness.

“Thanks.” She meant it.

He gripped her fingers, and this time she didn’t pull away. “But I know how this business works, and I am telling you this is the only way.”

“Why? Why is this the only way? I mean, can’t I just go live somewhere else? I could just—”

“Just what?” he demanded. “Run away again?”

It was another cheap shot, and Emma hadn’t been entirely prepared for how much bitterness her father could put into five words. What little kindness he had garnered from her just a minute ago evaporated.

“That’s not fair.”

“Emma,” her father said, “I never said it was. If you go gallivanting across the country, do you think they won’t find you? They managed to find you hours away at college, when we hadn’t even spoken to one another in months. Running away is not the answer here.”

“But this is?” Kellan asked. “I’m sorry, Mac, I don’t understand.”

“They went after her because they thought she was without protection. That she had no connections to us or the club. It wouldn’t be anything but attacking a dying man’s daughter. But you aren’t a dying man, Kellan. You are young and strong and they know it. If she is with you, if she has your name protecting her, they will think twice.”

It was a point she couldn’t argue, even when she wasn’t sleep deprived. “You know what? Fine. Fine! No one but one of you was ever going to date the daughter of the criminal anyway, right?” She stormed off and fell into the first bed she could find. What hurt the most, she thought as the first wave of exhaustion swept over her, was that it was true.

# # #

Kellan Mathers watched the retreating back of the club president’s daughter and knew damn well he was in for it. Her blonde ponytail danced with every angry movement and he couldn’t help but stare at it. He loved a woman with fire in her blood, and if Emma Ketchum could simmer with it at the worst hours of the morning, he could only imagine what she would do with it

He didn’t know where it all came from. When she’d been little she’d been this scrawny little nerd with glasses and knobby knees and braces who couldn’t put together five words. As a door slammed open and shut he decided he was going to have to reevaluate who Emma was now.

“You think she knows she went into your room?” Mac asked.

Kellan snorted. “You wanna be the one to tell her?”

“Hell no.”

“Me neither, old man, me neither.”

There was a long silence as Kellan wheeled Mac down the hall and into the master bedroom. They went through the actions of caregiver and care recipient as Kellan got him ready for bed. Rocco bounced around the bedroom, happy to get in the way.

“You mad at me?” Mac asked as he slid against the covers.

“Nope. I’m pissed.”

“Wanna be more specific?”

On the outside Kellan knew he looked calm, cool, and collected. They both knew better. Kellan could look as cool as a winter lake right before he pulled a trigger. It was what had always made him a good enforcer, and a good club member. He knew how to shut it all away and pretend like he was fine. He knew better than most what it meant when you lost control. He had the scars on his back to prove it.

“You shouldn’t have sprung it like that on me. If you wanted your daughter to become my old lady, you should have given me some kind of head’s up.”

Mac took his time crawling into his bed. Kellan waited.

“Could be that I didn’t think about it ’til I saw y’all two wrestling with that mutt in the front yard when she pulled up.” Mac smirked.

“Bull.”

Mac pulled his covers over his skinny legs. His arms shook with the effort. It was a sad thing to see a man who Kellan used to think of as a mountain become a sand dune. He was wasting away, and nothing short of a miracle was going to stop it from happening. Silently, Kellan was praying to all the gods that had ever had a temple.

It wasn’t that Kellan didn’t think death wasn’t coming to everyone, it just seemed to be coming too soon for Mac. Kellan wasn’t ready to put the old man in the ground.

It wasn’t just the emotional craziness of losing a person who had meant a lot to him for the better part of his life. It had more to do with the fact that everyone seemed to agree that when Mac died, it was going to be Kellan taking over. Hell, for the past six months he had basically been running the daily operations. It wasn’t hard. Move guns or electronics from point A to location B, and shake the local businesses for protection money, keep the right palms greased. That was the easy part.

It had all pretty much been easy until Gabriel stuck his nose into their territory. Ashland was Beasts territory, and everyone along the western seaboard knew it. Kellan didn’t know what wild hair had crawled up the Cuban’s backside but it was causing more problems than he wanted to deal with.

Then they had gone and attacked Emma. Everyone knew Emma Ketchum was off limits. She wasn’t part of the game. She wasn’t a criminal; her record didn’t even have a speeding ticket on it. She didn’t take part in any of the business. So what had that bastard been thinking?

“That’s some face you got going on there,” Mac said. “You gonna tell me what that’s about?”

“Thinking about bashing in some tatted up Cuban face.”

Mac chuckled appreciatively. “You’re gonna have to table that for the moment. You are gonna have a lady to think of.”

It took a great deal more control to not yell this time. “Mac, you know I got nothing but love for you, but I think this is a stupid idea. This is…this is like ten kinds of stupid.”

Mac’s head slumped back against his stiff medical pillow. “You’re ten kinds of stupid.”

“Don’t play with me like this, Mac. I’m not an idiot.” He managed to keep his voice steady, but barely. “Tell me. Just friggin’ tell me what the hell made you think hooking me up with Emma, with your goddamned little girl, was a good idea.”

Mac did nothing but incline his head. It was a slow movement, but it had that kind of weight to it that someone only got when they knew they had all the right on their side. Kellan had seen it from time to time and he knew he couldn’t fight it.

“You’re right. It’s my little girl and I am asking you to take care of her.”

“Exactly, man, she’s your kid. She’s—”

“All. I’ve. Got.”

Each word was a bullet, fired right into Kellan’s guilt. All his careful cool calm shattered. He grabbed the closest thing to him, a long empty cigarette tray, and threw it across the bedroom. It didn’t even give him the satisfaction of shattering. It just made a dent in the wall and clattered to the floor.

“You finished?” Mac asked.

Kellan let out several impressive curses before he slapped himself down in the chair next to the bed. “I don’t wanna get married. I don’t wanna be anyone’s man.”

“I get that.”

“Mac, you know what my life was like. You know what my father was.” His eyes were fixed on the dent he had caused in the wall. Yeah, it was a wall and a cigarette tray, but what if one day it wasn’t? What if one day it was a pretty girl’s face, or even a kid. “I don’t want to be that.”

“Your father was a mean damn drunk,” Mac snorted. “And you are nothing like him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Who better than me, kid?”

Kellan raked his hands through his hair and set his palms against his eyes. “You know how it was for me.”

“Yeah, kid, I do. I also know that same shit’s been following you around since you were a kid. And I also know it’s gotta stop. In no time at all you are gonna be putting my president patch on your kutte and you know what that means.”

“It means I gotta step up.”

Mac snorted and shook his bald head. “Easy words to say, Kel. But what does that mean?”

“Apparently it means I gotta marry a hot blonde who hates me, hates you, and hates everything I do with my life.”

Mac nodded, already beginning to drift off. “If your wife doesn’t hate something about you, shit, man, you are doing something wrong.”

Kellan left the old man to get some sleep and wandered the house. It was a good deal nicer than the trailer his family had. How they’d managed to shove four adults and twice as many kids into a doublewide, he’d never know. It was all held together with hunting, whiskey, and rage.

What was he going to do, pass that on? What happened the first time Emma nagged at him to give it all up? He remembered clear as day what his dad used to do to his mom when she came at him with everything he’d done wrong. It didn’t seem to matter what words she’d used or how right she was, his father would haul off and knock her around.

Kellan found himself in front of the liquor cabinet. It wasn’t locked, it wasn’t like there were kids about, and it wasn’t like Rocco had a taste for top shelf whiskey. Kellan plucked a bottle up and poured himself two fingers before knocking it back, enjoying the burn that went from his tongue to his belly and then everywhere else. He took another two and then wandered back down the hall.

He was standing in the doorway to his room before he remembered she was sleeping there.

She looked like an angel. He knew lots of guys said that about chicks, but when it came to Emma, it was true. She had that long blonde hair with just a little curl. Her face was all these soft angles that had just a hint of pink to keep her from looking like a piece of copy paper. She was beautiful in an untouchable, unstained way, and here Mac was shoving a piece of crap like him at her.

And she’d said yes.

He cursed and swallowed his second drink. The burn shook him all the way down to his toes.

Emma Ketchum said she’d marry him. That was the craziest part of it all. Yeah, sure, it was said in frustration, but it had been said. He hadn’t expected that. Moreover, he certainly hadn’t expected to feel good about it.

He shook his head and wished he hadn’t left the bottle in the living room.

She looked good. Even in that ugly sweater and ill-fitting jeans she looked like a million bucks, which was too expensive for him to put his ugly hands all over. No, no, marrying the collegiate princess was a bad idea for a million reasons.

A small whine drew his attention away from the girl and down to a mutt.

“Go on,” Kellan said, motioning with his chin. “No need for us both to be sleeping on the couch.”

Rocco needed no more encouragement. He prowled into the room and jumped up on the bed. Half asleep, Emma rolled over and wrapped an arm around the beast. She made a small sound that made his stomach do a flop as she curled into a tighter ball.

She looked small. It struck him hard. When she was up and moving around and shouting at everyone she seemed twice as big and ten times as tough. Her dad had the same quality. It gave a person a certain kind of glow that you wanted to follow and protect.

He could protect her a whole lot better sharing that bed with her. It was just a little too easy picturing climbing into that bed and wrapping himself around her like a snake. Would she be the kind of girl who whimpered and trembled, or the kind who moaned and demanded more?

He was a snake. Kellan felt his pants go tight where they had no business doing so, followed by a wave of disgust.

“Shit,” he snapped, and shook his head. Firmly he shut the door behind him.

Chapter 4

When Emma woke up the sun was high enough in the sky to cast long shadows over a stranger’s room. There was a warm body with dog breath flopped out next to her. With the stiffness of a body that had lay too long in the same position, Emma rolled over and received a big doggie kiss.

“Hello to you, too, Rocco.” She patted his side. He gave a low grumble in response.

She swung her stiff legs over the edge of a bed and looked around the room. It was, she determined, most certainly Kellan’s. The blue bedspread was run of the mill, but the biker girl calendar hanging on one wall and the clutter of clothes all screamed thirty-year-old male. The hunting rifle casually slung over the back of a chair was a dead giveaway, too. Her father wasn’t a hunter, but Kellan was.

Curiosity, and a desire to not walk out the bedroom door and into reality, had her perusing the less obvious aspects of the room. He was, after all, her husband-to-be. There was a stack of CDs that all ran towards the angry rebellious male from the ’90s music next to an iPod that was so new the headphones still had the waves from packaging. A half-empty bottle of Brute aftershave stood next to a few simple pieces of jewelry—a school ring and a chain with a cross on it.

There was a picture tucked between an empty box of cigarettes and a book that looked surprisingly well read. It was of a young Kellan, maybe nineteen or twenty, younger than she was now. His hair was still short, and still a mess of dark curls. He was a long line of teenage youth with a smile as wide as Texas on his mouth as he held up his vest, with only one patch on the bottom. The rocker, as they called it, read Prospect. 

She remembered when he first came to stay with them. He had been so skinny, so underfed, and there were enough bruises on his face that she knew he had been abused. Her father had taken him in, looked on him as a son, and started him on the path to becoming a Beasts club member.

Club, she mused, a real nice word for a gang. She put the picture back and sighed. She was feeling stupid.

Little pieces of Kellan were scattered all over a messy room.

“Stupid,” she muttered to herself.

A buzzing in her hoodie pocket made her aware of her phone. She pulled it out. There were three missed messages. The first was from the school, telling her she needed to have her stuff out by Friday, the other two were from Diana, who was worried since she hadn’t heard from her.

Emma didn’t have a clue how to phrase assaulted and engaged in emojis so she just sent her a message that said Family emergency. It was close enough, especially where her family was concerned.

“Come on, pup,” she said, rubbing the last little bit of sleep out of her eyes. “Let’s go see about breakfast.”

He gave an enthusiastic woof and hopped out of the bed, wagging the entire back end of his body. He circled twice and plopped down in front of the bedroom door. Someone had closed it. She wondered who.

She tugged off her hoodie and let it join the other piles of clothing, the grunge of old rain didn’t smell any worse than unwashed male. The dark green tank top she wore underneath wasn’t much better, but it didn’t smell quite as bad.

Emma opened the door and Rocco charged out. There was a clatter followed by a shout. She smiled. Dogs made everything better.

She took a few moments to freshen up in the bathroom, wash out the taste of mid-morning. A long look in the mirror informed her that her pale pallor did nothing to hide the bruised look of lethargy beneath her eyes. Her golden hair had the luster of two-day-old fries. She easily looked the worst she ever had in her entire life.

“Good morning to you, too, beautiful,” she muttered.

With a sigh she swished some mouthwash through her teeth. Maybe she ought to take a shower before heading out to go face her estranged father, and her brand new fiancé. The rumble of her stomach decided food was more important than pride. Emma wondered if her life had ever been weirder.

“I mean it,” she heard Kellan saying when she opened the bathroom door. “I won’t touch her.”

Her father’s gruff voice came from the kitchen. “Kid, you’ve never lied to me before. Don’t start now.”

“Man, that’s your little girl.”

“Do not, under any circumstance, make me point out to you that she has grown up.”

The smell of frying eggs and toasted bread hit her. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until her mouth was watering. She peeked around the corner, thankful the hallway blocked the view of her approach. A mirror gave her the vantage of seeing a very shirtless Kellan standing over a stove. Her watering mouth went sandpaper dry.

A rag was tossed carelessly over one sun-bronzed shoulder, a rivulet of water was sneaking down the long muscular line of his back, caressing the outline of a feral-looking dog tattoo, jumping out of artistically rendered flames. They danced as his shoulders moved, flipping on egg out of a pan and unto a plate.

“We both know she’s too good for me, Mac. I mean, she’s college educated, straight and narrow, all that. It ain’t just the big blue eyes that kick you. It’s all that punch in her brain.”

Her father’s chuckle was proud. “I’m glad you know it. But if she’s gonna be your wife…”

“Man, I can’t hold her to that. She said it in the middle of the night after a shitty situation.”

“Then go propose, go make it all right.”

Emma decided it was time for her to make her presence known.

“Morning,” she said stepping out of the hallway. “Any of that for me?”

Kellan glanced up. She saw his eyes sweep over her tank top. His mouth hung open for a moment as he took in the way it clung to her chest. Even Emma had to admit she wasn’t quite the underdeveloped eighteen-year-old she had been. Mac saw it, too, because he snorted something like, “Won’t touch her. Yeah, right,” under his breath.

Emma cleared her throat in amused embarrassment. “Eggs?”

“Hmm? Yeah, eggs, toast, bacon.”

“Sounds good.”

“Trying to eat healthy,” Mac said as he plopped his own plate on his lap and wheeled to the table. “Good for me.”

Emma put a hand on his shoulder, and he put his hand over hers. They stood there for a moment. It didn’t quite heal the seven-year breech between them, but it was a step. He tilted his head and placed a kiss on her hand. She patted his cheek.

“So,” Emma said as she piled toast unto her plate. “We have a wedding to plan.”

“Aw shit,” Kellan said.

Mac laughed. “Gotta be soon.”

“Listen, we still gotta talk about that.”

She leveled a gaze at him, plucking a piece of bacon up. “Does marrying you keep me safe?”

Kellan turned his eyes on Mac.

Mac held up his hands in surrender, clearly passing this over to the younger man. “She’s your fiancée. Answer the lady’s question.”

“Yes,” he finally said. “Safer, at least.”

“Does it give me a place to stay while all of this blows over?” She took a bite and slowly chewed it as she kept her eyes on him. She could see his brow furrow as he looked for a point to argue from.

“Emma, you’d have that anyway. If not here, then with Leon, or one of the others. The club wouldn’t just throw you to the wolves for this.” He jerked the pan off the stove and loaded the last plate with food.

“Fair enough, but does marrying you help pay off my student loans? Get me my last semester at college?”

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, if you get married, then you get your inheritance from me, that should see you through college and a nest egg.”

Kellan gave his president a look. “Are you serious? That’s shady.”

“A man is allowed to be as shady as he wants when his kid’s safety is concerned.”

“Shit.” Kellan gave a snort. “Fine, fine. Yes, I guess marrying me gets you some cash flow.”

“Then I guess we are getting married.”

Mac laughed. “That’s my little girl.”

Kellan looked her over for a second time, but this time her tank top had nothing to do with it. “That’s a big turnaround from what you were saying last night.”

“I said I’d marry you last night.” She made a sandwich with her breakfast and took a bite. “Not that big of a jump to planning a wedding.”

“This is stupid.”

Emma jerked her arm in a one shouldered shrug, “If you think you can do better than me, go right on ahead. Maybe one of those little biker bunnies. I mean, I’m sure they’d be willing to jump right on you if you waggled a finger.”

“I don’t want a biker bunny.” His tone was relentless and cold as steel.

“Well, good. Because I’m not one,” she snapped back, her eyes filling with indignant fire.

“Why do you want to marry me?” He surged forward, covering what little ground was between them in the span of two steps. His hand slapped against the table, his other gripped the back of her chair.

She didn’t move; she barely blinked. She just stared up at him with fire filled eyes. “Why are you being so damn difficult?” 

He glared at her, she stared back.

His lip quirked suddenly into a shadow of a smile. “You’ve got some balls, you know that?”

“Well, no,” she said, grabbing her plate and making for the bedroom again. “But I’m sure you’ll find that out soon enough.”

Chapter 5

A lot of girls spent a lot of time planning a wedding. They rooted through those shiny magazines at grocery store checkout lines, they pulled together every available woman from the prospective families and asked for their opinions on dresses and shoes and all kinds of frippery. Emma, so far as Kellan could tell, did none of that.

She got out a legal pad, plopped herself down on his bed, and started a list of everything that needed to be done while a mutt who had stars in his eyes tried to woo her by plopping his favorite chew toy at her bare feet. Her hair, still damp from a recent shower, fell down her back and put a wet line on the loose t-shirt she had borrowed from her father’s stuff. The pajama pants were Kellan’s, and they looked like they were swallowing her.

“Your dad sent Leon and Joe down to pick up the stuff from your apartment. You should have your own clothes back by tonight.”

“Joe?” She looked up. Her eyes weren’t just blue, they were like crystal, bright and shinning and hard to look away from.

“He’s our prospect, I think his real name is like Frohpenapple or something like that. But he’s like…second generation Swedish. Big dude, blond, and too pretty for his own good. Looks like a walking talking G.I. Joe so…”

“Ah, that’s cute,” she said, turning her gaze back to the list in front of her. Her pen scratched along the surface, leaving behind neat writing. “Do you have your birth certificate on hand?”

“Huh? Yeah, I do. Somewhere back at my place. Why?” He took a step inside and cleared off one chair of his pile of dirty clothes. He made a note to clean something up. If she were going to be staying here, he could at least make it look better than some piss-poor frat house.

“We can go down to the justice of the peace tomorrow morning and get a marriage license. We’ll need a priest to sign off. Do you know if dad is still good with the local Mennonite church?”

“As far as I know. Emma, listen—” He tried to put his hand over the list she was writing. She slid it out of his way. The dog barked.

“We can have a reception here, maybe do a BBQ, pot luck kind of thing. We don’t have time for a caterer, or one of those DJs, and that kind of thing wouldn’t really jive with most of the club anyway.” She cut him off so easily, like he hadn’t even been talking. They only other person who did that was Mac. He didn’t know if he was annoyed or amused. Probably both.

“Wait, reception?” he asked.

She looked up at him, her big blue eyes had filled with that cold fire. She had given him the same look in the kitchen. “Would you rather go from the justice to a cheap motel room? I mean, I’ve been told I’m hot, but at least give me the courtesy of a little pomp and circumstance before you jump me.”

His heart was picking up speed inside of his chest. Being annoyed was definitely winning out. How could little Emma talk so easily about jumping into bed together? Not that she wasn’t hot enough to want to jump. Suddenly it was all too easy to picture pushing her back against his sheets and seeing if those long legs could wrap around his hips. “Jesus, Emma, Jesus. Just stop, stop for a second. Have you seen me?”

She took a deep breath and placed the pen on her notepad. Her long fingers laced on top of the yellow paper. She squared her slender shoulders as if in preparation for war. With who, he wondered. Him?

“Kellan, I never thought you were a bad person. You have always been a little, I dunno, brash? Yes, I think brash works just fine. But brash doesn’t mean bad. I never thought you were oblivious, though.” She unlaced her fingers and dragged them down the list, pausing to trace some of the letters.

“Wait, what?” He felt like he had stepped into the middle of a conversation in another language.

“God, you still don’t know.” She pushed the pad to the side with enough force to send the pen rolling. Rocco let out a cheerful yip and chased the pen across the bed. She snatched it up before he could chomp on it.

“Don’t know what, woman?” He decided she was definitely speaking another language. She was speaking annoyed female, and he was not fluent.

She blinked at him with the solemnity of an owl. Her big blue eyes opened and closed twice. When she started speaking again she was using that firm and educated voice of a teacher, or the upper class. “Kellan, I’ve been looking at you since my dad first brought you through those doors.”

He followed the line of her hand towards the front of the house. His brain ground to a halt. “You what?”

“Due to that ‘smacked in the face by a pan’ look you are sporting, pretty sure you heard me.”

“Wait, what do you mean you’ve been looking at me?”

She went up to her feet. Even though she was half a foot shorter she managed to look down her nose at him. “What do you think it means? There you were all dark-haired and grumpy and my poor little teenage heart just couldn’t handle it.”

“You aren’t a teenager now, Emma. You’re a grown woman.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I am. And this grown woman wants a reception for her wedding.”

He wasn’t even sure where she would come from next. He felt like an idiot for not knowing about her feelings, and an idiot for not realizing that some quick stop at a federal building wouldn’t be good enough for her. She wasn’t some biker bunny who wanted the thrill of riding someone who wore the patches.

She was a good woman, he told himself. She was a good woman who was just working out some old feelings. That’s what all this was. He couldn’t hold those against her, but he could hold her acting out whatever teen fantasy was messing with her otherwise logical mind.

“Emma, you need to understand. This is temporary. We are both doing this to keep you safe, and keep your dad happy. And that’s fine by me, you know, whatever. But once this all blows over it’ll be the end of it, it’ll be done. You will go off and be the woman you are supposed to be, and I’ll go back to doing my thing.”

She fixed him with that steady gaze of hers. “That’s all well and good, Kellan, but do you think my dad is going to make it through all that?”

“Probably not.” He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where she was going to go with all of this.

“So, as someone who isn’t a complete and total jerk, could you give me the opportunity to walk down the aisle with my dad?”

He knew he had lost the fight. She had asked it so softly and so gently that he almost didn’t hear the soft quaver in her voice. “Damnit, Emma.”

“So, is a BBQ all right with you, then?” She sat back down on the bed, and Rocco curled up by her legs.

“Can there at least be those little meatball things?”

She smiled, and her eyes melted from ice into jewels. “Yeah, there can be little meatball things.”

Kellan thought he might do a lot to get Emma to look at him like that again.

# # #

The dress had been her mother’s, and it fit better than Emma would have expected. It wasn’t white, but that creamy champagne color that worked well when your skin was too pale to get away with real white. A neckline of beads shimmered over her collarbone, and the skirt, crafted from layers of light fabric, floated around her like a dream.

It was, she had to admit, exactly the kind of dress she would have picked out for herself. She took a turn in front of the full-length mirror and watched the fabric move.

“Good god,” her father whispered. “You look just like her.”

Emma ran her hands over the hips of her gown, settling it back into place. “It’s surprisingly perfect.”

Her father wheeled into the room, flanked by two men she didn’t recognize, at least not immediately. One was so tall and golden that he had to be Joe. The other was just a few years older than herself, and there was a familiar twinkle in his eye.

“Rudy?” she asked.

“Hey there, little sister.” He opened his arms and swept her into a hug. Rudy wasn’t really her brother, but he was Leon’s one and only son. He had been the boy who actually took her to prom when her date had stood her up. There had been a very short time when the two of them had tried to date. It had lasted as long as their first kiss. Calling it awkward would have been a deep understatement.

“How are you, how have you been?” she asked.

“Good, good. Got hitched myself two years ago. Have a baby girl.” His grin turned stupidly happy and she felt a rush of joy for the boy who had tried to make her life easier all those years ago.

“Are you serious?” she asked, her surprise making her eyes grow large. “Who to?”

“You remember Hannah Louis?” His look turned from happy to sheepish.

“Hamster Hannah?” Emma asked. “Really? Man, that girl was always hoping you’d look her way.”

“She got the overbite fixed the year you left. She finally made me aware of her feelings. Nearly knocked me over the head and dragged me to the altar. Couldn’t be happier about it.”

She gave him another hug. “I’m happy for you, Rudy”

“She’ll be at the BBQ; she’s bringing perogies.”

Emma made a sound of deep appreciation. There was nothing quite like dumplings stuffed with potato and cheese. It probably wouldn’t go with her wedding dress, but who cared? She placed a hand over her heart. “I swear I will never call her Hamster again.”

“I’d appreciate that, little sister.” His planted a kiss on her forehead.

The golden boy stepped forward and offered his hand. “My name’s Hans, but everyone calls me—”

“Joe,” she supplied, shaking his hand. He really did look like a doll. If he had put on a suit, he would have looked perfectly at home on Wall Street or GQ. “I’ve heard.”

“And I’ve heard you are another academic.”

“You went to college?” She tried not to sound too surprised.

“Finances and business.” He waggled his perfect brows. “I’ve found working with The Beasts to be quite lucrative.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“He’s done wonders for the books,” Mac said. “The business end of things has never run smoother.”

“But that is not my goal for today. We are here to make sure the day goes smoothly. Anything you need, anything you want, here we are,” Joe offered. His lips formed into a model perfect smile. “We are your very own leather clad bridesmaids.”

“Just what I always wanted.” Emma laughed, charmed in spite of herself. “Well, we could all start by making sure my husband actually arrives.”

“My dad’s on that,” Rudy offered. “He figured it was the least he could do.”

She wondered what it said about the circumstances that it was a legitimate worry. “That’s great, fellas. I, um, I don’t know.”

Rudy snorted. “Don’t lie, Emma. If I know you, you’ve got three lists hanging around here of everything you need. You can hand over at least two of them and let us do this.”

Joe glanced past her to the little vanity she was using to get ready. “Legal pad.”

Emma gave him a friendly glare. “I can—”

“Handle it.” Rudy finished for her. “She’s been saying that most of her life, you know. Always had to get stubborn about basically everything. Emma, let us help.”

“Emma,” her father said, “let them help. They are family.”

To the club, anything associated with it was family. She could have said no, said she could do it all herself, but the fact was that there were thirty things left to do and she didn’t have the time.

“All right,” she said finally. “All right, here, let me dish out the chores.”

Joe laughed an eerily perfect laugh. “Decorating and food preparation. This is the life that I signed up for.”

“You got your marching orders, boys,” her father ordered. “We don’t got forever.”

Rudy gave her one last hug, and Joe patted her hand. They promised everything would be perfect for the nuptials. Joe actually used the word nuptials. Then they left her alone with her father, and to make use of what few cosmetics she had.

“You want me to do your hair?” Mac asked.

She glanced at him through the vanity mirror. “You haven’t done my hair since I was eleven.”

“Thirteen,” he corrected. “Your first day of high school. You were wearing some band t-shirt and those jeans that came ripped up.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth in embarrassment. “It was the style.”

“Style is expensive. But I still braided your hair.”

“All right,” she said. “Yeah, a braid would be good. We could pin it around my head.”

“Like a crown?” he asked. “You gonna be a princess for your wedding?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m gonna be a princess.”

He chuckled and plopped one foot down on the carpet. She didn’t ask him if he could do it. He didn’t shake too much when he righted himself, and his hand was steady when he put it on her shoulder. She handed him the brush and he pulled it through her hair.

He had dressed up for the occasion. He had put on his best jeans, and a collared shirt beneath his leather vest. Everything looked two sizes too big, but he had tried.

“I wanna say thank you for doing this,” he said as he split her hair into three long segments. “I know it’s not what you wanted to do with your life.”

“It’s not,” she admitted. “But I’m not angry about that. I’m angry about being totally unaware of everything since I left.”

“Em, you left.”

“Yeah, I did,” she admitted. “It…it seemed like a great idea then.”

He was quiet while he tied off the end of her braid. “Your mom left for the same reasons you did. I was mad when she did it, but you I understood.”

“Why?” Emma asked as she handed him a few pins.

“She was in love with the idea of me, not the reality. I should have seen that.”

“You never remarried.”

He shrugged and wound the braid around her head until it sat like a golden crown. He tucked the first pin in, and then the second. For all his hands were old, and trembled with pain, he could still plait her hair just right. “No, I didn’t. I had the club, and I had you. It was enough for me.”

He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

She reached up and touched his arm. “Dad, I shouldn’t have just cut you off the way I did.”

He shook his head. “No, sweetie, I cut you off, little by little. I put other things before you and I shouldn’t have. I was an idiot.” 

“We were both idiots, Dad.”

He pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. He was thinner than she was. She could feel every rib as she buried her face against his chest. “We’ll make it right, sweetheart.”

He didn’t say that they didn’t have much time to make it right, but she nodded her head. She lost seven years with him and she wasn’t going to spend the next few minutes arguing over how long it would take to fix their broken relationship.

“All right.” He took a step back and rubbed his hand over one arm. “Let’s take a look.”

She gave a little spin. “Well?”

“He’ll be an idiot if he acts like you don’t look like a million bucks.”

“Kellan has always been an idiot.”

Her father laughed and ambled towards his closet. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Emma smirked, resettling herself on the vanity to dab some eyeliner on. “I thought we just got through saying we were both idiots?”

His chuckle echoed from the closet. “You gotta point there, daughter of mine. Let me try to rephrase that. I’m not a complete idiot. I know you had your eye on that boy when you were younger.”

“God, did everyone know?”

“Everyone but him. He didn’t have a clue.”

Emma snorted. “That’s the truth. He looked completely dumbstruck when I told him that.”

“Ha! I’d have paid to have seen that.”

Her father came out of the closet again. He set a small jewelry box in front of her. “I know you are already wearing her dress, but I thought these might go with it.”

The box started playing music when she opened it, a soft tune she recognized but didn’t know. Tucked safely inside was jewelry crafted out of rough-hewn crystals and fashioned into butterflies—there were necklaces, hairpins, and bracelets.

“She had a thing for butterflies.”

“I remember.”

When she looked into the mirror again, she could see her father watching her. The light from the closet made it hard to see him perfectly, but she was almost certain there were tears in his eyes, and his shoulders were shaking.

“Dad, what is it?” She didn’t want to turn around, not yet. It might scare away the moment.

“Knowing you are going to die makes you see things in a different light.” He put a hand on his dresser to steady himself. The sound of coins and the debris from pockets jingled with the motion. She started to get up, but he waved her down. “It’s my fault she left, Emma. She couldn’t handle the life, and neither could you, and that’s all on me.”

She turned around in her seat. “Dad, no.”

He sank back into his chair. His frail body folded in on himself like crumpled paper. The wrinkles around his eyes seemed to deepen, making him look even older than she knew he was. The tears slid over his cheeks and fell onto his leather-clad chest.

“Oh, Dad…no.” She sank to her knees in front of him and took his weathered hands in her young ones, linking everything together.

“I wasn’t there for you, and because of me your mom wasn’t either. She won’t be here today. She won’t be here tomorrow. Shit, I don’t even know if she is alive.”

“I don’t care.” Emma took his hands.

“Bull.”

“Hear me out, Dad. Please. You did a lot of things I hated. You had a bad habit of putting your club’s business before me and my business. But you never once walked out on me. When I walked away it was my choice, but I knew if I really needed you, you would be there for me.”

The tears weren’t stopping, but his hands clutched hers. “I love you, little girl. I love you so damn much.”

“I know, Dad. I know.” She tried not to cry; she almost managed it.

“I’m sorry for everything that pushed you away.” He wrapped one too thin arm around her body and pulled her closer to him.

“I know that, too. You’re here now. For as long as you can be. I know it.”

She drew a few small matched pins out and offered them to him. “Will you?”

“Of course.”

# # #

She looked like some kind of fairy goddess when her father walked her down the aisle. She’d done something to make her eyes look big and sparkling. Kellan watched her make her way down the aisle and felt his stomach lurch right down to his feet.

“Ain’t she beautiful?” Leon whispered from behind him. Alex, Rudy, and Joe were lined up next to him as his best men. He was pretty sure they were there to make sure he did everything right and proper.

Maybe they’d stand outside the door and make sure everything got consummated, too. That would be fun.

Kellan nodded his head in dumb agreement. This was insanity, and he wasn’t running away. Instead, he was taking her silken hands in his callused ones and praying to God to bless this holy union. He didn’t snort, but he didn’t think there was anything holy about it.

“We are gathered here today to join these two souls together in holy matrimony…”

She was looking up at him like this was a real wedding. Her cheeks were all pink roses and her lips were parted just a little. She looked like a bride. Hell, she was a bride.

“Do you, Kellan Nicholas Mathers, take this woman, Emma Katharine Ketchum, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold…”

“I do.” Kellan wasn’t really listening. The words didn’t much matter, it was all the meaning they held. It didn’t matter if this wasn’t going to be for forever; it was going to be for now, and for long enough. How the hell was he supposed to keep this blue-eyed beauty safe from the clutches of some Cuban?

He didn’t know, but as she made her own promises to him, he realized he was going to do his damnedest to try. How had he gotten himself into this?

They were just supposed to go get some certificate at the justice of the peace, and next thing he knew he was standing in front of Father Bronson making promises of forever to the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The words ‘until death do us part’ rang loudly in his ears.

When the priest asked for the ring he felt his blood go cold. “I, uh, I don’t have a ring.”

She shook her head, and put her hand on his. “It’s all right. I took care of it.”

He found his mouth going dry. What kind of woman, days after being attacked, could manage to put together an entire wedding and even manage rings? What had he been doing? Lounging around the shop and trying to figure out what he was going to do about all of this.

This was definitely a woman he didn’t deserve, and here she was looking at him with the kind of eyes a man could just get lost in. Deep crystalline summer eyes that threatened to swallow a man down and make him forget all the terrible things he had done. Or worse, make him want to be whatever it was those eyes thought they saw.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

When he hesitated, Emma leaned forward. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He might have been able to give her a brotherly kiss on the cheek if she hadn’t been leaning forward to whisper. The moment she did he was swarmed by the scent of lemon and vanilla. He took a deep whiff of it. Before he knew what he was doing he took her face in his hands and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

She tasted even better than she smelled. The blood went from his head to his groin the moment she stepped to him. Her sleek body pressed against him, and beneath the modesty of a wedding gown he could feel the intoxicating softness of her curves. Fire started somewhere inside his chest and went everywhere else.

Slender hands clutched his shoulders and she tilted her head. Her tongue delved between his lips with a wildness he hadn’t entirely expected, and he damn near dragged her to the ground. She went up on her toes and made a low purring sound in her throat. He was so done for.

There were cheers, and that was all that saved him from doing something bad.

“See?” she whispered when they had stopped kissing each other breathless. “Being married to me won’t be so bad.”

“You are going to get me killed.”

She kissed him again and his already thick shaft started to ache. He didn’t even hear the priest announce them as Mr. and Mrs. Kellan Mathers. All he could think about was Emma. She was getting under his skin. It happened from time to time. A pretty girl got in his way and all he could do was think about her.

She slithered against him and he barely managed to keep himself from groaning in front of a priest. This was not a great way to start this marriage.

Chapter 6

Emma wasn’t entirely sure how she wound up sitting at a picnic table with a bunch of women she didn’t know while her new husband had been shuffled off to enjoy rounds of whiskey, but that was where she was. Her plate was filled with perogies and meatballs and really small sandwiches.

“Emma, I haven’t seen you since high school! How have you been? Tell me everything!”

The Hannah Emma had known was a quiet, sedate broomstick of a girl with an overbite. That girl had defined the word mousy. The woman who sat in front of her, with a trio of heart tattoos on either shoulder, was not mousy, nor shy. She had kissed Emma full on the mouth in greeting and had smiled so big that Emma couldn’t help but return it.

“Han? God, I didn’t recognize you.”

“Oh yeah, sweetie. The new and improved.” She put a hand on either hip. Emma refused to believe the woman had given birth to any children. “You look so beautiful!”

“Thanks for standing in as a bridesmaid.”

“Oh pshaw.” She waved one hand. “You’re basically my sister now. As close as you and Rudy were growing up and all. It was the least I could do. I hear you are an animal doctor now.”

“Almost, still got a little college left.”

“That’s so exciting! What’ll you do when you graduate?”

“Well, I’d have to work with another doctor for a few more years, but eventually I wanna open my own place.”

Hannah fanned herself. “Gosh, I love a lady who owns her own business. I opened up a shop right on Main Street not three years ago. I sell shoes and accessories and things. All those girly bobbles I was too afraid to wear when I was a little twig of a thing.”

“But you wear them well now.”

Hannah threw her head back and laughed. It was a wild and unrestrained sound that was infectious. Emma decided, then and there, that she liked this new and improved Hannah.

“Wow, I hope the joke is a good one,” said a new voice. Emma glanced up and wondered if a centerfold model had stepped out of a magazine.

Hannah, whose smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, motioned to her left with a set of excellently manicured nails. “This is Samantha.”

Samantha was taller by a good two inches, and the stilettos she was sporting put Emma at eye level with an impressive chest, tanned to California perfection. A corseted blouse in a deep burgundy helped it along. Though why a girl who was clearly a size zero needed to corset anything was way beyond Emma’s understanding.

“Hi, Samantha.”

Samantha’s big brown eyes rolled over Emma with aloof dissatisfaction. They stopped on her plate and Emma found herself noticing that Samantha’s had nothing but a few slices of cucumber and a single slice of turkey. Samantha’s mouth curled into a smile and she flipped her ruby red hair over one shoulder. “Wow, you have a great appetite.”

She sauntered off before Emma could respond.

“Wow,” Hannah said to the retreating back. “Samantha’s even bitchier than usual.”

“Guess she doesn’t like the food.”

“Please, that food isn’t gonna stay down.”

Emma laughed. “Oh wow. That’s mean.”

“Yeah, I’d feel bad if it weren’t true, and if she wasn’t a terrible excuse for a person. Typical biker bunny type. Now, I’m all for a girl exercising her right to say yes, but that girl abuses the right and the men she exercises with. She’s just plain mean.”

“So why is she still around?”

Emma watched as the woman in question sauntered over to a table of men. She laughed and leaned over the lap of one in order to say something that had them all laughing. Emma would have been bored by her antics, but the girl was leaning over Kellan’s lap.

“Sweetie, you are looking at why she is still around.”

“Yeah,” Emma said as the girl flipped her hair again and flashed Emma a catty smile. “I see.”

Hannah reached out a hand and put it on Emma’s shoulder. “Hey, sweetie, if it helps any, they’ve never been together, least as far as I know. I’m not saying Kellan hasn’t shown a few of the groupies a good time for a night or two, but I don’t think she’s ever been one. She’s the kind of girl who loses interest once that happens.”

“Looks like she’s interested to me.” Emma knew she sounded bitter. She couldn’t help it. The marital kiss had rocked her, and she had thought it had rocked him, too. But he hadn’t seemed to be able to get away from her quick enough, and now there was a pretty thing two inches from sitting in his lap and he wasn’t pushing her away.

“What are you going to do about that?”

“Hmm?” Emma asked, still watching the display. “What do you mean?”

“That’s your man, isn’t it?” Hannah tapped the table, the sound of painted acrylic sharp on plastic. “You gotta make that claim known.”

“I just married him. How much more known could it be?”

“Plenty. Lots of guys think it’s all right to get some on the side. You gonna be one of the old ladies who’s all right with her man sticking it somewhere else?”

“That’s crude.”

“You wanna come up with a prettier word for cheating, be my guest. But take my advice, hon, figure out how to mark your territory, or she’s gonna keep sniffing.”

Kellan looked up, and his eyes found Emma’s instantly. Her skin felt too tight, humming with a feeling she had no name for. Her lips felt full, and all she could do was think of their kiss. She hadn’t meant to kiss him back so hard, but apparently a decade of unrequited feeling could pack a more powerful punch than she was willing to admit.

On the one hand, she couldn’t blame Samantha for wanting to get Kellan naked. He was the kind of guy who turned heads and broke hearts just by existing.

“Well, I mean, I guess looking at him like you are going to eat him is one way to do it. She might not realize he’s off limits, but I’m pretty sure everyone else does.”

“Hannah, I like you.”

“Oh good, ’cause I’d hate to have to pretend we weren’t friends.”

Emma agreed. The two women chatted companionably while the sun began its trek down the afternoon sky. For the first time since her attack Emma felt relaxed and comfortable. It was strange how much a little friendship could do. The purple and orange of late evening were making their way across the horizon when they heard it.

The booming bass of rap music, and as it grew closer one could tell the lyrics were not in English. A week ago Emma would have just rolled her eyes at a person playing their music too loud, but a lot could change a person in a week.

The lightheartedness of the reception faded as everyone became aware of the music. Club members shifted their positions, hands to their guns carelessly hidden beneath shirts. Women shifted to the back of the party. Those with kids went inside. Someone left the door open a little too long and Rocco, who hadn’t wanted to be locked up in the first place, came charging out.

Emma found she was too afraid to move.

“Emma, come on.” Hannah wrapped her pretty nails around Emma’s arm and gave it a firm tug. “Let’s go inside.”

It was too late. The cars, and there were several of them, came to a halt. She could see the hoods of at least two of them, an Impala and a Lincoln if her fear-addled brain could be believed. Some artistic hand had scrawled the image of the Virgin Mary across the hood, her gleaming halo bleeding into the windshield.

From all those cars only two men stepped out. The first was dressed in a suit so dark red it looked like half-dried blood. She wondered if that was done on purpose. His tie was whip-slim and hung down a very long body. A scrap of a beard was on his chin. His smile was brilliant, more gold than white.

“Mac Ketchum!” he called, his voice barely tinged with Latin flavor. “I guess our invitation got lost.”

They came to the shortest part of the fence, but they didn’t cross it. Ten men clad in the vest of The Beasts stepped between the fence and Emma.

The second man she didn’t recognize until the scent of cheap cigarettes and cheaper liquor swarmed over her. She started to shake. His eyes, dark as a volcanic lake and twice as heated, fell on her. Even from the distance of a ten-man guard she felt sick to her stomach. There was something wrong with that gaze, something that lacked humanity.

The man, she could only guess it was Michael, ran his tongue across his teeth before blowing her a kiss. A sick shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t look away. She could see a bruise on his brown brow and knew she had put it there. She didn’t have to look away. He blew her a kiss and she felt her lips curl into a grimace.

“You weren’t invited.”

Emma didn’t know how he did it, but her father’s voice lacked all the weariness she had come to expect to hear. When she chanced a look over her shoulder she saw him standing there. He had taken off the breathing tube that wrapped around his face and was standing up. He had drawn himself to his full height. Some trick of his presence made him look bigger and stronger than she knew he was. She wondered what it was costing him to have this show of power.

“Now, man, don’t be like that,” Gabriel—who else could it be?—said. “I thought we were family now, what with how you are selling my shit.”

Emma looked at her father. He wasn’t flinching, but there was a tightness around his eyes. A heaviness settled on the exchange. Hands went to guns. Car doors opened and she could see the long barrels of semi-automatic weapons.

“You lost your shit, fair and square.”

Gabriel let out a series of Spanish curses and then spat. “Man, you know nothing was fair about it. But, hey, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” Kellan demanded. Emma hadn’t seen him move; she hadn’t even realized he was behind her until he spoke. He took another step and put himself neatly in front of her.

“Just wanted to pass along our blessing to your lily-white bride, ese. My brother here, he gotta thing for smart-ass blondes and just wanted to give her a gift.”

There was something about the way he said it that had Emma’s skin crawling. Rocco must have heard it to, as the dog circled around and plunked himself in front of her. He gave a warning growl.

“Well, it’s only fair,” Emma called out. “He’s still wearing mine.”

There was a chorus of laughter from the gathered throng. Michael surged forward, spewing foreign obscenities. It was amazing how much bitch sounded like bitch no matter what language a jerk said it in. Gabriel slapped a hand in the center of his brother’s chest, and Michael stumbled back a few inches. Enough to get the message.

Kellan was smiling. “I don’t think my lady needs any gifts from you. Why don’t y’all pack it up and go home?”

“All right, all right. We get the message.” He held up his hands in apparent surrender. “Just stopping by to say hi and offer my congratulations on your fortuitous union.”

“Ain’t that word a little big for your mouth?” Mac called.

Gabriel said nothing. He bowed and led his brother away.

Emma waited until she heard engines turning over and wheels screeching. “What was that about?”

Kellan exchanged a look with Mac. “It was a show. That’s all. He knows where we are, where we live.”

Mac whistled. “Prospects.”

Joe and another man with a young face stepped forward. She thought she had heard someone call him Phantom; he was smaller than she, and so pale she wondered if it was a condition. She wasn’t sure she had ever heard him speak.

“Follow them, and be quiet about it. No bikes. He knows where my home is, we are going to know where his is.”

“Yes, sir.” Joe paused in front of Emma. “We’ll keep you safe, princess.”

Phantom said nothing, just nodded in her direction.

“Emma, why don’t you and Han go inside?” Kellan asked. “We are going to talk some shit out.”

For a moment Emma thought about arguing. It was clear they were going to be talking about her and deciding things on her behalf. But the fact was she didn’t feel like deciding anything right this moment. What she wanted was to go back a month when her life was as simple as writing papers and taking notes.

“Yeah, all right.”

She stopped by her dad and he gave her a hug. “We are going to keep you safe, Emma. I swear it.”

She nodded. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, Emma believed he’d try, she just didn’t know how much good it was going to do.

“Come on, hon. Let’s get you out of all that white. Your pup has gone and put some paw prints on the hemline.”

“It’s not my dog,” Emma said even as she placed a hand on the broad head of the mutt.

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

The house was surprisingly empty when she and Han went inside. Guess no one wanted to stick around after a near shoot-out.

“Why don’t you get changed? I’ve got enough nervous energy to clean a whole house, so I think I’m gonna start with yours,” Hannah offered.

“Yeah, all right, thanks.”

Boxes of her things were still stacked in Kellan’s room. She pawed through them until she found a t-shirt and jeans. Her wedding dress, which did, in fact, have Rocco’s prints along the hem, slid off with more ease than she had expected. She had imagined, from time to time, how her wedding dress would come off on her wedding night. A man’s hands had usually been involved.

She tried not to dwell on it as she changed into her own clothes.

When Emma came out into the living room Hannah had a trash bag half full of garbage.

“You need help?” Emma offered.

“You wanna rest?” Han asked.

“No,” Emma shook her head. Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, but she hoped it was honest. “Apparently your nervous energy is catching.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Hannah set the plastic aside and crossed the living room to wrap her maternal arms around Emma. “It’s all right, the club is gonna keep you safe. Kellan is going to keep you safe.”

Emma couldn’t quite stop herself from snorting. “Yeah, right. He had to be bullied and manipulated into getting married to me.”

“Maybe,” Hannah said, sinking down to the now clean couch. “But he did marry you, Emma. And that means something. It means more to these guys than it means to most. It’s a title. It’s a promise.”

“How barbaric.” Emma couldn’t quite keep the sneer out of her voice.

Hannah laughed. “Yeah, a little. But it works for them.”

Emma flopped down next to Hannah, pulling a recently fluffed pillow into her lap. “Goodie. I’ve got criminals protecting me from other criminals.”

“Don’t be like that. You got some of that criminal in you, too.”

“What?”

Hannah smirked. “What was it you said? You’re still wearing mine?” She started to laugh.

Emma felt a strange sense of pride. “Yeah, well…”

“What did you do to give that boy a shiner that big?”

“I may have flipped him over my shoulder.”

“Tell me.”

So Emma did, she talked about that whole night, and Hannah listened. She gasped and giggled and before Emma knew it she was feeling better. She knew Hannah had pulled it out of her on purpose.

“Thanks.”

Hannah shrugged one pretty shoulder. “You needed to feel better. Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the story.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t friendlier to you in high school.”

Hannah blew out a breath. “Emma, I didn’t make it easy for anyone to be friendly to me in high school. My own childhood issues were stacked pretty high. You might not have been nice, but you were never mean, and I can appreciate that more in hindsight.”

“You still wanan clean?”

“I’m a mother, I’m happy to clean any place that can stay that way for more than ten seconds.”

Emma laughed and grabbed a bag for herself. As a pair they walked through the living room, picking up beer cans in various states of emptiness. They didn’t need to talk, at least not at first. Rocco attempted to help by chewing up well-placed food remains.

“You sure you’re okay?” Hannah asked once they got out the broom and dustpan out.

“I will be.”

Hannah looked her over as if the evaluate her honesty. “Yeah, looks like maybe you will.”

The backdoor slid open and the men walked in. They looked like a miniature army, grim and determined. Her father was at the forefront, still walking of his own accord. With minimal help he took a seat in his old Lay-Z-Boy.

“We’ve talked.”

Emma leaned against the dining table. “All right.”

“You ain’t gonna like it.”

Emma’s pale brow shot up. “Because the past few days have been my favorite.”

“I’m sending you to Kellan’s place.”

Emma paused. “Wait, what?”

He looked her over. “You can’t stay here. Gabriel knows where I live. Him showing up here was nothing but a song and dance to prove that he could do anything at any time he wants. You staying here these past few days has been asking for trouble already. But he doesn’t know Kellan’s place. Him staying here was only temporary anyway. He was just helping me out. He can keep watch on you there.”

“What about your chemo? What about your pills? Dad, you can’t do it all yourself. Let us stay here.”

He shook his head once. “No. I’m gonna have Joe do all that. He’s better with schedules anyway.”

“That’s true,” Kellan offered.

Emma shook her head once. The butterfly pins still affixed to her braided crown glittered with the movement. She wanted to argue, but the fight was nearly out of her. “Fine. Whatever.”

“You serious?” Kellan snapped out. “You are going with this?”

“See, your new husband here thought you were going to argue with me for the next twenty minutes. For that matter, so did I. Had this whole plan for talking you around to my way of thinking and everything.”

“I’m stubborn. Haven’t got a clue where I got that from.” She stood up and walked over so she could pat a hand on his cheek. “Before Gabriel and Michael showed up you might have had to do that. But I’m a logical girl, I like all my facts in a row, and you’ve laid them out well enough.”

“You wanna hear it anyway?” Mac asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I do not. It’s late and all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Shit,” Kellan snapped. He stormed out of the room and into what had until very recently been his bedroom. The door slammed shut in his wake. A very confused mutt tried to follow, but found his way blocked.

“I’ll go wrangle up Kellan.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I’m going to assume that you have some kinda plan for talking him around?”

“I do.”

It would have been really easy to let her father do it, but it felt wrong. She was the reason Kellan’s life was going down a path he hadn’t planned.

“No,” she finally said. “I’ll do it.”

The door wasn’t locked, but she knocked anyway.

“What?” he called from inside. He did not sound happy.

It was all the invitation she was going to receive. She opened the door and Rocco sprang inside ahead of her. He crashed against Kellan, who didn’t move. His wedding clothes, which had consisted of his normal clothes in a state of cleanliness, had been tossed to the ground. He had changed into a hoodie and darker jeans. At his feet was a bag, half full of his things.

“I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

“All right.”

She gathered up a couple of things and replaced them in the boxes that she’d barely had a chance to go through. “It won’t take me very long either.”

“You don’t need to grab it all, just what you’ll need for a few days.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won’t be staying at my place for very long.”

“Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

He snorted, but said nothing else. She could very well feel his anger, but Emma didn’t understand it. Yeah, she understood wanting personal space. Five years in dorm living and two more with roommates while she went for her degree in veterinary medicine had taught her to appreciate some privacy. This went beyond that. What had she done to make him so mad? He was nearly shaking as he piled his stuff into the canvas bag.

The sound of a zipper signaled he was ready. Kellan crossed his arms over his chest and waited. It was not a patient stance. He only moved to help her when she tried to pick up three boxes on her own. He stormed out to her Buick and chucked them unceremoniously into her backseat.

“Hey!” she snapped, following in the wake of his storm. “You can be mad at this situation all you want but don’t you dare take it out on my stuff, mister.”

When he whirled on her, she saw his hazel eyes flash in the darkness. “Then don’t manipulate things so you end up in my bed.”

She felt cold fire burn in her belly. “What?”

“I didn’t stutter, did I? You heard me. I get it, you liked me in high school, and you find yourself in this shit situation, so you are going to use it to your advantage, I get it. But I don’t like it. I didn’t want this marriage, and I sure as hell didn’t want you.”

His words hurt, another woman might have whimpered and cried, but Emma Ketchum was not just any woman. She planted her hands on her hips and took a wide stance. “Maybe you are mistaking me for one of your little biker bunnies again, but I haven’t manipulated anything.”

“Sure.”

That one word was filled with so much hate that she knew he wasn’t really mad at her, she just didn’t know what he was really made about, and she didn’t know him well enough to figure it out. So, like she always did when she felt lost, she fell back on science, and in the realm of science, when you had a question you asked it.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“I think I—”

“No, you fed me some anger fueled impassioned bull about you thinking I’m manipulating things. Now, while you thinking I am such an evil mastermind that was so obsessed with you that I stayed away for seven years, just waiting for a random criminal to come attack me in an apartment that wasn’t even in my name, just so my dad would come up with some plan to hitch us together so I could manipulate myself into your house is pretty neat, I didn’t.”

“I never said—”

“Oh no, you didn’t. You implied it with this angsty BS by showing some disrespect to my belongings and snapping at me for reasons that were beyond my control.” She stepped up to him and poked a single finger into his chest. “I’m not flattered by that.”

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you.”

“No, my theory is that you were working from some other platform. You are judging my current actions by someone else’s in your past. That’s fine, it's unfair but that’s human, it’s psychology 101. But you cross the line when you think you can manhandle my stuff. Got it?”

He waited a beat and then said, “Your eyes get all sparkly when you are nerd-angry.”

Her look was several degrees above freezing. “Thanks.”

He held up his hands and sighed. Then leaned against the car. “I’m sorry. I don’t like when people pull fast ones with me, and your dad just pulled a pisser.”

“He did, but he meant well.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Fair enough.” She leaned against the car next to him. “I’m not great at being anyone’s emotional punching bag, Kellan.”

“I get that. Hell, I like that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. The anger sagged out of him. “I’ve got a temper.”

“Really?” She kept her voice desert dry.

He had the grace to look abashed. “Yeah, my dad…my dad had a hell of a temper. It was worse when he was drunk.”

Emma knew that, but she’d never heard him talk about it. She kept quiet, and still.

“I got used to looking for a swing, you know? If I got home from school and there were bottles all over, or my mom was doing that little mouse walk she did when she was scared, I knew. Hell, even when that didn’t happen I could tell. There’s just a feeling you get when you are in that kind of situation.”

“It’s called hyper-awareness,” she explained when he got quiet. “A lot of abused children develop it as a way of coping. They pick up on body signals that other people overlook because it keeps them safe.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds about right. Hyper-awareness. Sounds like a superpower. Like Batman or something.”

She put her head on his shoulder. He didn’t return the gesture, but he didn’t move aware either. That was something. The evening grew colder around them.

“One day, I was fifteen or something. I thought I had gotten big enough to stand up to him, you know? I was so tired of just taking the beatings. I did it on purpose, got him mad. I can’t even remember what I did, but he came crashing into my room, and I stood up. I got this great swing on him. Knocked him back a whole foot.”

“Did you win?”

“No.” He laughed humorlessly. “I did not. He nearly put me in a hospital. My mom, she was a nurse once, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“She was, she worked with the elderly, loved her job to begin with. But, well, my dad beat that out of her. He beat a lot out of her.” He dragged one hand through his hair, and let the arm hang around her as he continued. “But she comes in when he’s finished knocking me silly, she cleans me up and keeps me whole and I just ask her…I ask he why she’s still with him. And you know what she says to me?”

“What?”

“She tells me he loves her more than anyone. She’s got bruises all over her arms from where he’s shaken her and she tells me he loves her.” He spat to one side, as if the words had left a dirty taste in his mouth.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. And that ain’t even the worst of it.”

“Do you wanna tell me?”

“Probably should.” He looked down and away. “You aren’t going to like it much.”

“Okay.”

“Nearly got married once before. Nice girl, waitress. Her name was Nina. We started living together, even talked about picking out a ring or something. It was cool. Then this one night I get a call, Dad’s dead. I dunno why I was surprised, but I was. I go to the hospital and I am all set to say my goodbyes and there is my mom, crying and sobbing. And I dunno why it set me off. Here I was, finally feeling free and she’s sobbing and scared and sad and acting like the best thing that ever happened to her is gone. I…fuck, I got so mad.”

He was looking at the ground. No, Emma decided, not at it. The ground was just a place for his eyes to rest while his mind wandered down the path of his memory towards whatever was haunting him.

“She starts yelling at me for not being as upset as she was. She grabs my shirt and shakes hard enough to rip the fabric. She starts cursing at me, cussing at me…and then she spit on my face. In all the time I had known her she’d never stood up to my dad that way. That just made me angrier. I slapped her. God, it didn’t even feel like me doing it. I just…I got so mad at her for everything, for everything she’d ever done that made me mad, and I slapped her.”

Her stomach felt cold. She couldn’t deny that it made her feel sick. When she looked over he was shaking. “Nina left me. I couldn’t blame her; I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t stand up to my dad, but I could hit my mother. It was then that I knew I could never have a woman. I was just as bad as he was.”

“I see,” she whispered.

“So, I’ll take you to my place to keep you safe. But, Emma, I can’t be your husband. I can’t get close to you like that.”

She shook her head and moved so she was standing in front of him, putting herself in the way of his distant gaze. She waited until his eyes focused on her. “You did a shitty thing when you smacked your mother. But you know that, and you didn’t keep doing it.”

He tried to look away, but she put her hand on his cheek. She ran her hand over the stubble there. It had been clean-shaven when they kissed.

“Emma—”

“You didn’t beat her down. She was assaulting you and you responded with enough force to stop her. It’s not the same thing, it’s not the same thing at all.”

He wanted to believe her, she could see it.

“It’s late,” he said. “Let’s get you to my place.” He glanced over at her. “My place is a mess.”

“I once roomed at C-Dorm. I bet you I have seen worse.” 

With that she climbed into her car, and he climbed onto his bike. It was easy to follow the lone figure of a man on his bike through the otherwise quiet town of Ashland. She appreciated the time alone in her car. Emma needed to think.

She had met plenty of people who were too hard on themselves. She saw one every time she looked in the mirror, but she was at least aware of those moments when she was just asking too much of her brain or her feelings. Kellan didn’t seem to be aware of it at all.

Yeah, he shouldn’t have done what he did, but she would have thought worse of him if he hadn’t realized it was wrong. If he had stood before her and told her the story about why he had hit his mom, and why it had been the tight course of action, she would have been uncomfortable, maybe even angry, but that was not what had happened.

Chapter 7

It was damn surprising how quick everything fell into a rhythm. From the day they moved all her stuff into his place she had settled into what she had called a guestroom. Kellan didn’t agree. It was just a room. If pushed, he called it a den. It was more of a spare room with a foldout couch, and some boxes he had never unpacked, but she hadn’t complained.

“Freshman year there were six of us stuffed into bunks so close that if I reached out, I’d smack someone in the face. Trust me, it is so much better than that,” she had promised as she hauled her boxes in. “I can make it homey.”

Homey. That word alone had sent cold chills into him. She wasn’t supposed to be making this homey. She was supposed to be closing ranks on her life and keeping her head down so she didn’t make herself a target. Gabriel had made it very clear that he’d love to keep her in his line of sight, and Kellan didn’t much like the look in Michael’s eyes either.

A few days later he’d seen her things all over the room. Her books stacked as neatly as she could without a bookshelf. She’d tacked a bunch of pictures up. Most of them were of people he didn’t know, but a few were of her doing things around a green campus, surrounded by the kinds of people who went to college. There was a set of her on some trip to some exotic place with lots of mountains in the background. His favorite, though, was one of her with her hair tied back, brows all knitted together, trying to feed a kitten with some kind of syringe.

What could he do about it? Basically nothing.

“Hey,” she’d said a few days later, her hand slapping a cabinet shut. “I know my life is in danger, but can I go to the grocery store, or the mall?”

“What for?” He’d taken a long drink of a cold beer. “We got stuff.”

“Well,” she’d said, opening the fridge. Her brows were drawn together, just like the picture. “You might be able to live on frozen dinners and beer, but I do appreciate a good home cooked meal from time to time.”

“I don’t cook.”

“Yes, you do. I saw you cook for my dad, remember?” When her arms crossed over her chest and she fixed him with a level gaze he felt an unexpected thrill. There was some sick part of him that liked the way her cheeks went all pink when she got frustrated, especially when she was wearing pajamas with little ducks on them.

He waved his free hand and flashed her a smile. “Fine, I don’t cook often. Your dad needed good meals, so…you know.”

“Yeah, I do know.” The entire statement had sounded loaded with meaning.

He had raised his brows at her. “Bull. You doctor animals. You don’t cook them.”

She snorted. “I am not getting into the ethical nature of different diets with you. What I will point out is that my mom did leave when I was a kid, and since you stayed with my dad you know his food habits as well as I do. Or lack of them.”

“Point.”

“And I am stuck here for the most part, and stressed. I wanna bake and cook.”

“You bake when you stress?”

“It’s normal enough. There are some doctors who say—”

He held up his hands and shook his head. “I don’t need the science stuff. Just tell me what you need, I’ll make sure someone picks it up.”

“Someone? I can’t go?”

It was Kellan’s turn to narrow his eyes at here. “Is cake mix a good enough reason to get shot?”

She looked disgusted. “Cake mix? Heathen.”

He laughed. “You wanna make a cake from scratch?”

“Cake, lasagna, cheese.”

“You can make your own cheese?”

She’d raised her brow at him. “Let me go to the grocery store, and you’ll find out.”

“No go. Write a list, I’ll see someone gets what’s on it.”

“Not you?”

“I gotta run the auto shop. You want me to pick up milk on the way home like a good hubby, all you gotta do is ask.”

“Cute.” She threw up her hands, her eyes rolling back. “Fine, fine. But it’s gotta be someone who knows what they are doing.”

A day later the fridge had been full of all kinds of things. His beer had been organized to a single shelf on the door. There were three different kinds of flour in the pantry. Kellan hadn’t known that there was more than one kind of flour, or that he had a pantry.

She had also stocked the bathroom with girly frippery. Lotions that seemed to be organized in some order of importance, several soaps, and two shampoos that weren’t his. Who needed two shampoos? He had assumed, as a lady of science, that she understood there was no logic in stock piling this kind of crap.

When he had brought it up she had just blinked at him coolly and said, “Shows what you know.”

He wasn’t particularly great with women on a personal level, but he knew well enough when arguing was pointless. The girl could cut a person down with words the way other people cut people down with guns.

Still, none of that was as bad as the day she’d walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

Coming home early was a rare and precious gift, and Kellan wanted to make the most of it. The shop business was covered and business at the clubhouse was in a lull because everyone was battening down the hatches after the show of force from Gabriel’s men. With nothing to do he had decided to head home, have a beer, maybe go for a walk with Rocco. Maybe figure out a way to keep Emma from going crazy while on house arrest.

Then he heard the shower. It was too easy to picture pretty blonde Emma all wet and naked. He had made a promise not to touch her, but the nerdy blonde bombshell had a bad habit of walking around in tiny shorts and tank tops. A guy could only take so much.

Rocco was sitting patiently outside the bathroom door. His stubby tail wagging while he waited for his new favorite person to come out of the bathroom.

“Hey, traitor,” he said, kneeling down to scratch behind his ear. “She’s gonna be in there for forever, how about a walk?”

At his second favorite word Rocco bounced up and did a quick spin, his ears flopping around his square face while Kellan opened the door to his bedroom. There was a pile of clean laundry on his bed, folded. Kellan didn’t know whether to be annoyed that she was being a wife or amused that she’d folded his underwear.

He went with both.

She was doing a lot of wifely things, he realized. Cleaning up, sending him texts to ask what he wanted for dinner, they had even started watching television shows together. He’d have to find a way to stop that. Nice as it was to bitch about imaginary characters making stupid decisions, it wouldn’t do to have her getting attached.

He was coming out of his room with the leash in one hand when she had been stepping out of the bathroom in a steam of mist.

They had nearly crashed into one another and his brain went from focusing on a walk to focusing on Emma. It wasn’t fair. She looked good in jeans and a t-shirt. In a towel, dripping wet and smelling like one of the bottles of soap she had, she looked down right edible.

“You’re home early,” she said, adjusting the terrycloth over her breasts. It hadn’t helped. All it made them do is push against the fabric.

“Slow day.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m gonna make dinner. Does chicken sound good?”

There was a bead of water moving down her neck, it dipped over the swell of her breasts and into the line of her cleavage. She could have offered him cardboard dipped in grease and he would have said, “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Hey, Kellan. My eyes are up here.”

“Shit.”

She was sauntering back down the hall and towards her room when he finally got the blood going back to his brain.

Rocco leaned against him in hopeful expectation.

“Yeah, buddy. A walk sounds like a good idea.”

He had hoped the walk would get his mind off of how naked Emma was. It didn’t. His mind went from imagining ripping off the towel to the kiss they had shared at the altar. It had been a damn good kiss. Not just good, there was some fire burning inside that little blonde and he wanted to roll in it.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted a woman before. He wasn’t a damn priest. He had wanted, and enjoyed, plenty of chicks before. When he was younger, and the patch had been brand new, there had been a lot of women. Biker bunnies who had been eager and willing, a few outside the club who had been more sedate but no less visceral. Then there had been Nina.

Nina who’d looked on him with blatant disgust, and packed up her bags the minute they had gotten home. She hadn’t heard anything he said. She hadn’t been willing to listen. All that remained of her was an empty spot in the bed and junk mail with her name on the address label.

There hadn’t been as many women after that.

Now there was one, with long legs and big blue eyes, sashaying around his place in yellow terrycloth. What was a guy to do?

“What do you think, buddy?”

Rocco looked at him, his mouth open, tongue hanging out. He lifted his leg and marked a bush.

“Yeah,” Kellan snorted. “That’s great.”

He didn’t immediately go inside when he got home. He opened the garage and got out his tools. His mind worked better when he could work on something. An old bike, a decade past needing a tune up, sat on top of a flattened box. A splotch of oil marked the cardboard.

It wasn’t just that she was hot, though she was definitely that. It was that she stood her ground when she had something to say, and she didn’t back down when someone tried to intimidate her. Twenty-five-year-old Emma was a far cry from the scrawny teenage girl who had packed up and split over half a decade ago. That little nerd hadn’t been able to string together two sentences without stumbling over everything.

She was strong, she was confident, she was smart. A triple threat of personality that made a girl into more than a hot roll in bed. That was the kind of girl that could get under the skin and make a man want to be the best he could be.

“Shit.”

His thoughts were muddled and moving too quick to hold onto. He tugged off his shirt and wiped the dust and the grime from his face, neck, and shoulders. The scent of fried chicken and some kind of potato dish wafted from inside, cutting through the scent of oil and metal.

Rocco groaned and pawed at the door.

“Yeah,” Kellan muttered. “Yeah, I smell it, too, buddy. Come on, let’s wash up and head inside.”

He used the garage sink to scrub off the worst of it and splashed enough at the dog that he wouldn’t track in metallic dust. Emma had put some kind of order to his house, he didn’t want her hard work to go unappreciated.

She was standing over the stove when he came in. Golden brown pieces of chicken where floating in a skillet. She wasn’t wearing a t-shirt and jeans this time. She was wearing a sundress. The fabric was pale pink and thin enough that he could see through it where the light caught it just right. The curve of her backside was particularly prevalent.

“You look good.”

“Was going to go see my dad after dinner, take him some food and see how Joe is taking care of him.”

“Okay, I’ll drive you over.”

“Thanks.”

She pulled the chicken out of the grease with tongs and set it on a pile of paper towels. When she looked up she stopped. For a moment he didn’t get it, but when her eyes focused on his chest, rather than his face, he got it. He might not have been wearing a towel, but his shirt was off, and he had courteously rinsed himself off.

Turnabout, it seemed, was fair play.

“Hey, Emma, my eyes are up here.” He tossed her words back at her with a grin on his lips.

She blinked in confusion, and then dragged those big blue eyes of hers up his body and to his face. They rested there and filled with an emotion he didn’t know, but would have called deep. Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out over them in silent invitation. “Yeah,” she managed. “They are.”

He didn’t know who moved first, wasn’t entirely sure that it mattered. She went up to her toes and he dipped his head. Kellan fastened his mouth over her plump lips and she made a little sound. That sound hit him like a drug, and he wanted more. His arms wrapped around her back, hands fisting in that scrap of fabric he couldn’t call a dress.

“Yes,” she whispered when his mouth went from her lips down her neck. He didn’t know if he was kissing or licking or both. All he wanted was to taste her skin. “Oh yes.”

He palmed her pert ass and hauled her up. He set her on a clean square of counter and her long legs wrapped around him.

God, she had so much fire in her, so much passion. Her body arched to him, beckoning his touch. He granted it. Her skin was so soft beneath his fingers as he pushed her skirt up, revealing long inches of creamy thigh. She wore white cotton beneath—it shouldn’t have driven him as wild as it did. All he wanted to do was drag it off with his teeth.

“Emma, goddamn.”

“More, please, don’t stop now.”

She grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers. Her pink tongue dove into his mouth, retreated, and dove again. She coiled around him like a living flame and he sank into it. His fingers laced into the neckline and he tore it. It shredded like paper. She crooned her approval.

She was laid out like a buffet of ivory skin and white cotton. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face and breasts like gold. She reached out to him, called to him.

“Damn.”

He dove forward and licked the line of skin where it met the cup of her bra. She shivered. Her hands dove into his hair and pulled him closer.

“More,” she begged. “Oh, please, Kellan, give me more.”

Her desire was making him crazed. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to drag her to the bedroom, the floor, or some spot in between. He was fumbling for the straps of her bra when his phone went off. He was willing to ignore it until her phone went off a moment later.

That couldn’t be good.

He made a sound and fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

He had been right, it wasn’t good.

# # #

Hospitals all smelled the same. The smell of sickness and death carefully masked with disinfectant. While it might have lacked the smell of dog and cat Emma was used to, it wasn’t all that different when she walked through the sliding doors. Her hands were shaking and her mind was racing when she approached the nurse’s station.

“My name is Emma Ketch…Emma Mathers. My father was brought in a little while ago. Mac Ketchum.”

The nurse, with a round face and a two-dollar haircut, looked from Emma, who had managed to pull on clothes that hadn’t been torn off her body, to Kellan, who looked every inch the biker boy. The nurse’s lips formed into a line so tight the lips went pale beneath her professional lipstick. “Are you family?”

“Didn’t she just say that she was his daughter?” Kellan demanded.

“And you are?”

“Her husband,” he snapped. “Is there some kind of problem?” Kellan seemed to grow a foot taller, or at least take up more space. His broad hands splayed on the flat surface of the nurse’s station. He leaned over, just enough to show off his impressive height.

“Kellan—”

“Yes, I think I remember,” the nurse said.

She turned to her computer and was looking stuff up when Joe walked up, flanked by the ever silent Phantom and Rudy, who looked haggard around the edges. All three of them hugged both Emma and Kellan. Joe was warm, Rudy was brotherly, Phantom was cold. She wasn’t sure which offered the most comfort.

“He’s on the third floor, critical,” Joe explained.

“Already?” Emma asked. It usually took hours to get from emergency to critical, unless they truly thought you weren’t going to make it. Emma felt her stomach sink down to her toes, the leaden weight of it turning her legs weak. She must have made some noise or movement, as Kellan took her arm and kept her standing.

“He is not doing so well, Emma,” Joe explained. “If you will follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

Emma followed Joe’s broad back to the elevator and down the maze of halls lit with the hum of fluorescent bulbs. The sound of her feet on off-white flooring was too loud in her ears. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening.

There was a piece of blue paper hanging on her father’s door, she didn’t know the words on it, she couldn’t read them, but she didn’t think it was a good thing. The rest of the club was spilling out of her father’s room, a small army of men wearing the biker uniform. When she approached they all stopped chatting. They moved aside, letting her pass. Her stomach surged from the ground and into her throat.

One look at her father lying in bed and she knew it was even worse than she had imagined.

He wasn’t just pale anymore. The sheet beneath him was white, he wasn’t. His skin had taken on the particular gray sheen, constantly shinning with sweat, of someone who was spiraling. The age spots on his brow stood out like brown stars. His eyes were hazy and sunken.

He barely turned his head when she walked in. She could tell the movement hurt.

“Dad,” she whispered. “Oh no.”

“Hey, little girl.” He coughed hard enough to make the bed beneath him shake. He brought a cloth she hadn’t noticed to his mouth, when it came away there was a blotch of dark blood on it.

“Oh god.”

“Come here.” He lifted one hand; there wasn’t even an IV in it. The hospital wasn’t wasting it on him.

The protective railing had been lowered, making it easy for her to ease her hip next to him. His body was so wasted that there was plenty of space. He wrapped an arm around her. She bent and laid her head on his chest. His lips, waxy yet rough, pressed to her brow.

Joe was talking; she could hear his practiced voice passing on information. She was only half listening; she didn’t need to hear the science to know her father was going to die. It wouldn’t comfort her. That thought brought tears to her eyes. Science had always brought her comfort.

“You can’t,” she whispered, unable to bring herself to say the word die, but it hung in the air anyway. “I just got back.”

He kissed her forehead again. “You did. At least this way we can’t screw it up again.”

Sad tears, she realized, were cold. Drops of ice and wet that filled the corner of her vision. They dripped out of her eyes to roll down her nose and puddle on the thin hospital gown he wore.

“But I wanna be able to screw it up again. I want to yell at you and tell you you’re wrong. I just want you here. I feel like we just met.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.  His arm wrapped tighter around her. “I’m going to disappoint you.”

A shadow fell across the bed. She knew it was Kellan before she looked up. His presence had a certain weight that she had grown attuned to. Their gazes met over the span of her father’s form. His hazel eyes were red with unshed tears.

Silently, Mac reached out. He took one of Kellan’s strong hands in his gnarled one and pulled him closer. Kellan didn’t resist.

“The club will make you president. You’ve earned it.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered crowd. She had almost forgotten they were there. Kellan just nodded, his cheeks went red.

“You promise me you’ll take care of her. No matter what. Just take care of her. Keep her safe for me.”

“Yeah.” Kellan’s voice cracked. “I promise.”

Mac took one of their hands in either one of his and pushed them together. “I know neither one of you wanted this, that it isn’t how you two would have gone about it. But thank you. Thank you for doing it, and thank you for letting me walk her down the aisle.”

His voice was weak, and getting weaker.

“You don’t need to talk, Dad.”

“If not now, when?”

She had nothing to say to that. She just curled closer, hearing the heartbeat beneath her ear. It wasn’t steady. He was struggling to breathe. She couldn’t find any words. She couldn’t say anything.

“No,” she whispered. “Please, no.”

He kissed her brow, and his heartbeat grew softer.

“Daddy,” she whispered. “No.”

Chapter 8

The Saloon was, according to taxes, a bar. The liquor license had a layer of dust on it, and the bar was so well worn that it shined. The jukebox, several decades out of date, was silent tonight. Each bar stool, worn to perfection, was occupied by one of the men of The Beasts.

Each one, save for the center stool. That stool’s lone occupant was a leather vest, worn to crackling, with the full set of patches across the back, and the front. The topmost one read President.

Joe poured out drinks, Phantom at his side. They passed them out without the normal banter that came with slinging whiskey and beer. Not that Phantom was ever much for banter, but even his silence had a sadness to it.

The first few moments were nothing but twenty some-odd men sharing a drink and the memories of a dear friend. It was too damn much, and every quiet moment that fed into the next made Kellan feel itchy.

“Shit,” Kellan snorted, dragging a hand down his face. “Just shit.”

“I ever tell you how I met Mac Ketchum?” Leon asked. He shifted in his seat and took a long drink.

“Tell it again,” a voice called.

“You gonna buy me a drink, Vinny? You want a story, you gotta buy me a drink.”

“You ain’t a woman.” Vinny chuckled. “But you got a pretty ass. All right, get him a whiskey, maybe I’ll take him home.”

Everyone laughed. Suddenly the mood was lighter. More drinks were passed out, some conversation sprung up, but most of the eyes were on old Leon.

“We were nineteen,” he started. “Young, dumb, and full of…well.” He waggled his brows.

There was more laughter and a lot of lewd innuendos.

“Shut up! Shut up if you want to hear the rest. We were nineteen and graduated and didn’t have anything to do with our lives. So, like any stupid kid we signed up for the military.”

“Damn right!” Vinny snorted, slapping his chest. Beneath his leather vest he wore a Semper Fi shirt.

“Shut up Vinny, or I’ll make you take Michelin home instead.” He took a long drink and leaned back against the bar. “So here I was, from nowhere California, and there he was, from nowhere Oregon, and we were shaved and scrubbed and getting yelled at. It was like being a freshman all over again, with a lot less women. I’d like to say we were friends from day one, but that’d be a lie. See, there was this one girl, a military secretary, with tits all the way out to here.”

He held his hands out far from his chest and gave a great big smile.

“We were both desperate to get under that uniform, turned into a fight on more than one occasion. Well, one of those times we disrupted the entire mess hall, and our drill sergeant did not much like it. It’s bad enough that we were fighting, but to disrupt the steak day, well, that was a sin that the sergeant, who had been born in Texas, could not forgive.”

“Your sergeant was right.” Joe tossed a rag on the bar and gave it a wipe. “No one should interrupt red meat.”

Leon lifted his glass in salute. “That’s the goddamn truth, ain’t it? Still, that’s exactly what we did. We had bloodied one another’s lips, blackened one another’s eyes and got tore into by our Texan sergeant. Then we were put on cleaning duty for weeks. I can’t tell you how many dishes we washed, how many toilets we scrubbed, but somewhere between it all we looked at each other. He gave me this goofy damn grin and starts laughing at me. Laughing! Can you believe it?”

There was a riot of enthusiastic yeahs.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon continued, shaking his graying head. “Like I was saying, he gives me this goofy grin and starts giggling like a girl at her first boy band concert and he asks me if any tits are worth cleaning up this much shit.”

Wild masculine laughter echoed off the worn walls. Someone moved over to the jukebox and put on an old Skynard album. A mixture of dixie and rock-n-roll joined the voices of other men, each telling their own story about Mac Ketchum, and The Beasts Motorcycle Club.

Kellan listened to it all. It felt good to hear all of the guys talking through their memories, and their grief. Silently he wished it would work on Emma. He had left her with Hannah and some of the other old ladies.

“Mac Ketchum was a good man, and a good president. He’s gone to the great garage in the sky!” There was a chorus of cheers as Rudy lifted his glass and took a drink for the memory of the man who was. Twenty others, all wearing the patches of The Beasts, drank with him. When he had finished his glass, he let out a loud belch and shouted, “Long will he be remembered!”

“Long will he be remembered!” they parroted back, Kellan along with them.

His own beer was ice cold, but he couldn’t taste anything but the temperature on his lips as he drank it down. Mac was dead, well and truly so. It was two days ago, but that didn’t stop it from hitting him in the chest every time the realization popped up.

Still, he was taking it better than Emma was.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent her a text asking if she was doing all right. It was a habit now, to check in with her, check on her really. And why not? That was what Mac asked him to do.

“And now we gotta get ourselves a new president!” Vinny shouted.

The cheers were louder this time. Kellan felt his stomach go cold and dark. He knew what was coming next. He had wanted this, for years he had thought of putting on the president’s patch. It had always been a daydream, a hope, and fantasy. Now it was reality. Now it meant Mac was dead.

“My dad was an asshole,” he said suddenly. “I dunno if it was the alcohol or just him. But he liked to use his fists.”

The room went quiet again, but it wasn’t mournful. There was a subtle shifting as the attention fell on him.

“Mac hired me at the shop when I was eighteen, I guess he didn’t want me getting my face bashed in over a set of tits. I was good with fixing things; machines always made more sense than people. I didn’t have a lick of experience outside of fiddling on my own and he just…I dunno. He gave me a chance. My dad started getting angry about how much time I was spending at the shop. He said it was turning me into a criminal.”

There was laughter and a few shouts of agreement.

“Oh no,” Kellan said. “It totally did. Not gonna lie. But my dad was sure his position at the pizza place was better than mine at the shop and started getting angrier and angrier, showed up at the shop to tell my boss I was quitting. But Mac was there doing some paperwork. He just stood there, arms crossed, listening to my father rant at him. He was like this big damn statue, just looking at my dad, letting my dad call him all these names, and accuse him of everything from selling drugs to killing kings and Mac just took it.

“When my dad just ran out of air or anger Mac looked down at him and then looked over at me. I was standing there trying to apologize and Mac just asks me if I want his spare room. I must have just looked at him for a whole minute before I said, ‘Yeah, sure.’ My dad flipped; he didn’t go after Mac, nope, he went after me. He does this dive thing right at me and I am fully expecting to get hit. But Mac has just scooped him up and tossed him out. Like a goddamned sack. My dad looked so shocked, like, hit in the face with a pan shocked. He starts to get up and Mac shakes his head. He tells him to crawl away, that any man who strikes his son for making a decision he doesn’t like doesn’t deserve to have a son.”

There was a long moment of silence. Kellan wondered what the other men were thinking. Were they remembering their sons, their fathers?

“Mac was my father,” Kellan continued. “And if y’all want me to take his place, I’d be honored.”

It didn’t take long. There was a cheer, and a vote from any man who could ride his bike. It was unanimous. He was handed a president patch, and suddenly the club was his. He thought he should have felt something, intimidated or unsure. He didn’t. It felt right, good even.

“First thing we gotta do is pick a VP,” Kellan said. “I need someone I can trust, who I can count on. I nominate Rudy. He was born into this life, and the club has always been able to count on him.”

Rudy looked shocked, but pleased. His cheerful face lit up and he raised his glass and nodded. “I can accept that nomination.”

Leon slapped his son on the shoulder, “I second it!”

The voting for the vice president was even faster. Everyone liked Rudy, hell, Kellan thought, even Emma liked Rudy. Kellan couldn’t blame her, not really. The two of them had grown up together, and it was well known that Leon had taken a large part of raising Emma. They were nearly brother and sister. A brother and sister, he thought, who aren’t related, who had gone to prom together. He ignored the small surge of jealousy that welled up.

Rudy was married to Han, and they had kids, and Emma didn’t belong to Kellan. He didn’t want a wife. He didn’t want a family. He was good.

He embraced Rudy and slapped him hard on the back. “I’m counting on you, man.”

“I’m all yours.” Rudy slapped him back.

There was another round of celebratory beers and then Kellan brought them back to business. There were things that needed to get done.

“Our biggest concern is Gabriel and his people. It isn’t just that they are going after Emma, it’s that they are showing up at personal residences and trying to intimidate. They need to learn that The Beasts cannot be intimidated. They want to come on our turf, fine, let’s go see theirs. Phantom, Rudy, I want you to hunt down where Gabriel and Michael kick up their feet. Scout it out and let’s put together a plan.”

The two men nodded.

“Leon, you need to handle the businesses with Vinny and Joe; we want to keep clean money coming in, pay our taxes, be good little boys, for at least the next few weeks. We take no new contracts, we run guns to no one. We don’t take anything stolen, and we do no stealing. Just for the next few weeks.”

“I’m all for a vacation,” Vinny said. “But why?”

“Oh!” Joe smirked. “I think I get it, oh captain, my captain. May I?”

“Go for it, Shakespeare.”

“If we keep things on the up and up, the local law enforcement is going to ignore us, they are going to focus their attention on Gabriel’s people. We want their spotlights on Gabriel, get him riled.”

Kellan nodded. “That’s the truth right there.”

Leon nodded and finished the last of his beer. “All right, we scrub ourselves up for a couple of weeks. Take the heat off. Maybe they’ll think Mac’s death shook us up.”

Kellan nodded. “Put that out there, go to your favorite bar or strip joint and mourn openly. Bury yourselves in beer and women. Gabriel may even get a whiff of it; he might back off a little. But let’s find out. That’s it, let’s get out of here.”

“All right. President.” Rudy slapped his hand on the counter. “Come on, Phantom. Let’s go infiltrate the enemy.

Phantom followed like a pale shadow.

# # #

“I know I keep saying this,” Emma said into her cell phone, “but I honestly have no idea.”

Emma hated to admit when she didn’t know something. It was normal, she knew that. No one was born knowing everything. It was perfectly all right to not know the digestive cycle of a Labrador. It was different entirely when she wasn’t sure if her father wanted to be cremated or buried. She didn’t know if he wanted a traditional coffin or something modern. She didn’t know anything.

She only knew there were a lot of questions and she couldn’t answer any of them.

“Mrs. Mathers, I know this is a difficult time for you.”

The voice was so soothing, gentle. It was a voice of someone used to talking to people who were on their way to breaking down and bawling their eyes out. Even so it struck her to hear him call her Mrs. Mathers. It was her name, according to the state of Oregon, but it didn’t feel like it belonged to her.

For some reason that made her want to cry even more. She felt her shoulders sag forward and her eyes close.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, cutting the soothing voice off. “I just don’t know anything. My father and I weren’t…close until very recently. We didn’t talk about this.”  

“I understand, Mrs. Mathers. Perhaps he talked with someone else?”

The voice cracked with just the smallest bit of frustration for the first time. Emma couldn’t blame him, no one was infinitely patient. She felt herself sag a little more. “I’m sorry, I—”

Hannah’s hand touched her shoulder. Emma reached back and grasped the other woman’s fingers.

“Hon,” Hannah said gently. “Why don’t you take a break? We can figure everything out and call him back. You don’t need to do this right this second.”

The voice on the other end of the phone must have heard Hannah talking. He offered to call her back first thing in the morning. Emma set the phone aside and covered her face in her hands. “I am a terrible daughter.”

“Sweetie, no, you aren’t.”

Hannah took Emma’s hands in her own, dragging them away from Emma’s face. Emma found herself looking into Han’s perfectly made up face. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I don’t know anything about my dad.”

“You do.” Hannah gripped her hands tighter.

Emma shook her head and flopped back against the sofa. Rocco jumped up and flopped against her side. Hannah released her hand so Emma could pat the dog.

“Okay.” Hannah stood up. “I’m going to pour us some wine.”

“Drinking when you’re depressed can lead to alcoholism.”

“And?” Hannah asked, heading towards the kitchen. “I know some fantastic alcoholics.”

Emma laughed, and she wasn’t sure why. It was a dry laugh, only half amused. It sounded more exhausted than anything else. She heard Hannah rustling around in the kitchen drawers and a couple moments later the pop of a wine bottle.

Hannah handed Emma a glass and settled herself into a chair.

“So, what’s the problem?” she asked, taking a sip of her own wine.

“I don’t know my dad. Here I am, I’m supposed to decide all these things and I haven’t got a clue what would make him happy.”

Hannah took another long sip and sat back. “Okay, I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be very honest with me. Can you do that?”

“I can.”

“Good. Take a drink. I need you to tell me if you are better with a pretty lie or an ugly truth.”

Emma thought about it for a moment while the bitter sweet taste of wine flowed over her tongue and into her belly. “Right now? Ugly truth.”

“All right.” Hannah put her glass aside and folded her manicured fingers across her lap. “The ugly truth of it is that your daddy is dead. He doesn’t care what you do now. You could toss him in a dumpster and it won’t matter to him at all. Ugly, but true.”

Emma decided to take another sip. “All right.”

“Now, funerals, all that pomp and circumstance and whatever, that’s all for the people who are alive enough to care about what’s going on. It’s for them to get together and celebrate and cry. So you don’t need to ask yourself what your dad wants, but what you want. Do you want him to be in a big pretty box in the ground or do you want to scatter his ashes?”

Emma thought about it. “I think that it’s pointless to put a body in the ground. We only started doing that as a society because we believed the ghost could come back and use the body so we buried with it. There is proof that Neanderthals put tools and meat with dead bodies…”

“See, there you go. You don’t want to bury Mac.”

Emma nodded slowly. “All right, I guess I don’t. But I’m not the only one who is going to care. I mean, I have the least right to make any of these decisions. Hell, Kellan was closer to him than I ever was.”

Hannah’s brow shot up. “Bitter much?”

Emma sighed, looking at the dark wine swirling around the bottom of her glass. She decided she wanted a second one. She got up and Rocco followed her to the kitchen while she poured. “Maybe a little. I mean, this is my dad. We weren’t close, but he’s the only family I’ve got. Mom walked out. I like to blame him for that, but she didn’t take me with her, did she?”

“No,” Hannah agreed from the living room. “She didn’t.”

“I hate her for that. I mean, Dad and I had our problems. I never liked what he did for money, or how he chose to live his life, but he never abandoned me.”

“He was proud of you,” Hannah offered when Emma came back to the couch. “Said so all the time.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. He carried a picture of you from your graduation with him. He would pull it out whenever the opportunity presented itself. He’d flash it about and say, ‘That’s my girl! She’s in college, gonna be a vet. Take more brains to be a vet than it does to be a doctor. Animals can’t tell you where it hurts.’”

Emma found herself smiling. “He’s not wrong. Wait…wasn’t…he wasn’t wrong.”

Suddenly her smile collapsed on itself. The fact that he was gone, well and truly gone, hit her like a boulder. It wasn’t just frustration with decisions, or uncertainty with her future. It was the fact that he was gone and there was nothing to be done about it.

“My daddy is gone,” she whimpered as big fat tears rolled over her cheeks.

The door opened and Kellan walked in. “Shit, Hannah, what did you do?” He charged across the living room and stopped in front of Emma. “What happened?”

“I dunno,” Hannah said with an edge of bitterness “Maybe her father died and she’s overwhelmed.”

Kellan glared in Hannah’s direction. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Stop,” Emma pleaded. “Just stop. She didn’t do anything. I just…I realized he is gone. That’s all, he’s just gone. He’s not somewhere else, waiting for me to give him a call. He is all gone. My daddy is gone.”

Kellan closed his eyes. “Sorry, Han. I got this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for hanging out with her today.”

Hannah nodded. “Bye, Emma, call me if you need anything.”

Emma just gave a mute nod and pulled her knees up to her chest. She felt that she was very near breaking, like a thin glass bubble, floating on the miasma of her own sadness. She had been holding everything together since she got back, but she couldn’t anymore.

“Daddy,” she whispered. “Kellan, he’s gone.”

“I know, sweetie,” he said with a gentleness she hadn’t known he had. “I know. Come here.”

She felt Kellan sit next to her. She scrambled closer to him, desperate for the nearness of a living person. “He loved me.”

Emma curled up into a ball and started to sob. Her chest ached with the struggle to keep all the tears in. For some reason the hallway in her dad’s house popped into her head. The pictures of her from being born to gradating. He hadn’t moved them, hadn’t replaced them. He left them where they were, cheap frames and all.

“Yeah.” Kellan wrapped an arm around her. “He did.”

“I didn’t know that. I didn’t believe it. I thought he loved that life more than me. I thought he would have given it up if he really loved me.”

Kellan blew out a breath and stroked a hand down her back. “I don’t…I don’t think love is ever as easy as ‘if you love me, then you’ll do this.’ You know?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I do. I didn’t. I’ve never been in love.”

“That’s surprising.”

“What?”

“Here you are, pretty girl, smart brain, you’d think love would be falling at your feet.”

She shook her head, her tears beginning to abate. “I haven’t. I’ve had boyfriends, but never love. I thought I loved you when I was younger. But that was teen feelings, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

She looked up, and he looked down. They hadn’t been close since that afternoon in the kitchen, when they’d almost torn each other’s clothes to ribbons. The death of a loved one tended to put the brakes on lusty feelings.

At least, until now. If he kissed her now, she’d drag him into her. She’d use him to forget all this hate pain and fear. It was tempting, oh so tempting to think of it.

He cleared his throat, and shook his head as if he had heard her thoughts. “You need to eat.”

“What?” she asked.

“Food, you need it. You’ve been sitting in this house for weeks, basically waiting for nothing but bad things to happen. You’ve been cooking, cleaning, studying, who knows what you do. But you’ve been stuck here, and then all this happens? No, come on. You need to get out, and you need to eat.”

“There is a psychological connection between mood changes and food. That’s why there are foods everyone labels as comforts.”

He laughed. “You know, you say the weirdest shit. I like it.”

He stood up and offered her a hand. She took it and he levered her into a standing position. “Take a shower,” he said. “Get dressed, and do all the makeup stuff. Set aside all the crap that’s happened. I’m going to take you out for dinner.”

“Really?”

“Really. What is your comfort food?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Steak, maybe seafood.”

His grin widened. “I knew there was a reason I married you.”

# # #

Somewhere between her crab cakes and the porterhouse Emma realized she was falling in love with Kellan. She could blame the wine Hannah had given her at home, or the beer she had ordered when she arrived at the restaurant, but she didn’t really think that was it.

He was telling her about his first bike. She only understood half of it. Something about the pistons and the engine, and something else. She wasn’t actively listening to him, rather, she was focusing on the way he lit up when he was talking about it. The way his eyes took on that soft look.

“You found it where?” she asked.

“A yard sale! Can you believe it? This guy was getting rid of his bike. His wife didn’t think it was safe. I dunno. But it had been sitting in this dude’s garage for like five years. So it was half together to start with. So I plunked down two weeks’ worth of wages and walked it all the way back to the shop.”

“Oh god.” She laughed, tearing apart a piece of bread and dipping it into some honey butter. “My dad must have been thrilled.”

“He called me an idiot. Flat out. Like, there I was, not even twenty years old, still scrawny as hell. I was shaking from dragging that thing thirty blocks, and he just tells me to take it back.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope. He just points with one of those big fingers and tells me, ‘We don’t have room for junk.’”

She shook her head. Her golden locks, styled with gentle curls and held out of her face with butterfly pins, bounced with the subtle movement. “I can’t believe he ever called any bike junk.”

“You apparently never heard him talk about ninja bikes.”

She snorted. “Okay, that I do remember.”

“So anyway, there I was, standing all defiant. Saying I bought it with my money, I’d fix it with my money. I was going to do it. He rolled his eyes at me and told me I was wasting my time.” He paused as their dinner plates were set down in front of them. Hers had a steak covered in mushrooms and shrimp, his was another steak smothered in grilled onions and butter. “It took me weeks. Every night I was in the shop, fixing this or fiddling with that. I learned more about bike working on that junker than I did in the two years I had been working in the shop.”

“Did you fix it?”

“After replacing like ninety percent of the parts, yeah. It would have been cheaper if I had just bought a new bike by the end of everything. But I was young and proud.”

“I like that.”

“That I was young and proud?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, genius. I like that you got stubborn about it. It meant something to you. It didn’t matter what anyone else said about it. You wanted to rebuild that bike, you did it.”

“Like you with school.”

“Well, everyone thought I was going to go to college.”

He shrugged his shoulder, and dug into the steak. “Yeah, but you wanted to do it by yourself. You didn’t want anyone else’s time or their money. You wanted it to be on your own terms.”

It was close enough to the mark that she squirmed. “Well, until now.”

“Yeah, but you’d be an idiot if you didn’t accept help now. Let’s be honest, I was an idiot.”

“Maybe a little.”

He laughed, and she laughed alongside him, and it was about then she realized she was falling for him. He was smarter than she’d ever given him credit for. It wasn’t in a science or history way, but in a worldly way. He knew people, and how to handle them. It was a talent she certainly didn’t have.

“Maybe a little,” he agreed. “So, why a vet?”

“Well, I could be cliché and say it’s because I like animals.”

“I’ve seen you with Rocco, I know you like animals.”

She took another bite of steak. “I certainly do.”

“That was a little dark.” He did not sound disappointed. Indeed, there was a big grin on his soft lips.

She shrugged. “Humans are animals. While I fully believe that people do overeat meat, that you don’t have to have it with every meal in order to make it a meal and all that, I also believe that our digestive systems are set up to have some meat in our diet.”

“I’m down with that.” He took a healthy bite of his own dinner.

“Me too.” She finished her food and pushed her plate away. “But that being said. I do actually like animals, but you can’t love animals too much if you want to be a vet, and that’s the hard truth of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that animals die. They die more often than people do, what with the shorter lifespans. But it’s more than that.” She took another sip of her beer, finishing it off and pushing it to join her plate. “People get pets and haven’t got a clue how hard they can be to take care of. Oh, it’s adorable to get your five-year-old a bunny for Easter, but then you don’t understand why that tiny cage has your rabbit pulling its fur out. Or you get a cute dog from the SPCA, but you don’t notice that that dog doesn’t do well with your cat, and a fight happens, and I have to stitch them up because you didn’t read a thing.”

“I never thought of that.”

She shrugged. “A lot of people don’t. They don’t research how much a bird can stress out, or how cats need a high fat diet. Do you know I had a woman come in with this dog, not too different from Rocco, big and buff and all that. Or at least he would have been if she wasn’t feeding him a vegan diet.”

“Vegan? Like…veggies?”

“Yup! Like veggies. Only veggies. Like, a couple of people have published this literature that all animals can live together peacefully without killing another animal to survive, that you can just supplement their diet with chemicals. And I won’t go into all the science, but that’s not true. There are certain enzymes that animals need that only exist in meat.”

“This is a big deal to you,” he said gently.

“Animals are to me what bikes are to you.”

He nodded. “All right, fair enough. But it still sounds like you care a lot about animals.”

“I do, but not so much that I love every animal I see. You see, if I cared about every Fluffy with a broken tail, or every Rover with intestinal cancer, I would never be able to watch them die every day. It would be like you working in the world’s worst junkyard.”

“So you care, but not too much.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s really cool.” He paused for just a moment before asking. “So, do you want dessert?”

“Are you trying to make me fat? We had appetizers, and a huge dinner and—”

“Do you want dessert?” he asked again.

“This meal is going to be, like, a hundred dollars.”

“Do. You. Want. Dessert?”

She sighed ever so softly. “Yes, yes I want dessert.”

“Good, so do I.” He waved down the waitress and they put in a dessert order. The waitress beamed at them and wandered off. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Push away the things people offer.” He leaned across the table. “I didn’t ask you to come out so long as you didn’t spend more than twenty bucks. I asked you to come out so you could relax. If that takes two beers and a slice of…god, what did you order?”

“Chocolate and peanut butter cake.”

“How are you, like, ten pounds?”

“I don’t eat like this every day, Kellan.”

“That’s a shock. I’ve watched you cook.”

“Most days I eat ramen noodles with some stuff tossed in it. Lots of sodium, but not a lot of anything else.”

“Okay, that’s cool. But that doesn’t answer why you push people away. You seem like you have to do everything by yourself. I mean, go back to our talk about money and stuff. Yeah, I get wanting to do things for yourself, better than most I think.”

Emma sighed. “My mom.”

“What?”

“Look, I’ve spent a lot of time analyzing my mommy issues, and in my amateur opinion I can say that her leaving took a toll on me. I stopped depending on people and started depending on me. I’m sure it’s not really that simple, but that’s as close as I can get. She left. Yeah, I blame my dad for a lot of it, but the truth of the matter is she didn’t take me. She never contacted me, she never came around. My dad was absent, my mom just abandoned me. So yeah, I hate taking help, and I look at all nice things with suspicion. There’s probably a good reason I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Shit.” He blew out a breath. “You are going to need another beer.”

“That is absolutely correct.”

An hour two more beers, later Emma let Kellan carry her into the house. She wasn’t drunk, there had been enough food and enough time between the drinks than that, but just tipsy enough that her heels were not her best choice in footwear.

“Aw,” she said with a tipsy giggle. “You are carrying me over the threshold.”

“You’re cute when you are drunk.”

“Not drunk,” she said when he plopped her down in the living room. She immediately unstrapped her heels and kicked them off. With more instinct than thought she wandered to his stereo and began looking through the music there. “You don’t like iPods.”

“What?”

“I noticed it the first night I was back. You had this iPod, it was all wrapped up nice and neat, but your CDs were strewn everywhere.”

“I like CDs.” He shrugged. “Why did you notice that?”

“No idea,” she admitted. “Just noticed it. Do you have something against modern technology?”

“I use CDs,” he pointed out. “I can’t hate technology.”

“True. If you did, you’d be one of those vinyl boys.”

“Do you not like vinyl?”

“Do you like vinyl?” she mused.

“They’re all right.”

She nodded and put a CD into the player. Moments later the smooth tones of The Eagles poured out of the speakers. With more enthusiasm than skill she swayed along with it. “Dance with me.” She offered her hand to him.

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever anything but serious?”

“Fair point.”

He took her hand and swayed alongside her. She let her hands lay on the tops of his arms, the soft hair on his forearms tickling along her palms as she moved with him. He moved better than her, probably had more experience dancing.

After a moment his arms went around her back, pulling her a little closer. Her arms went around his neck and she looked up into his face. His hazel eyes were closed, but his lips looked soft, kissable. She stepped closer to him and his fingers dipped lower, brushing the top of the brown skirt she wore. His digits flexed, drawing her shirt up a couple inches, revealing a line of skin at her back. His thumbs caressed it, sending a thrill from the place he touched to a spot deeper inside her body.

She lifted her chin, and his mouth dipped to hers. A bolt of lightning swam through her skin. It started at her lips and trickled along her body until every inch of her skin was humming. It mingled pleasantly with the buzz in her brain until she could feel the world swimming beneath her bare feet.

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight.”

“What?” He stopped dancing. His eyes popped open.

“Just thought I’d make myself clear.”

A shock laugh escaped his lips. “You are the strangest woman.”

“Maybe,” she answered back. “But I like to be honest.”

“I wasn’t thinking about having sex with you.”

She snorted. “Oh please.”

He frowned at her. “What do you expect, you are all…soft.”

She stepped back, but let her hands linger on his shoulders. “I am. I’m also tipsy, and I don’t like making life choices when I’m tipsy.”

“Having sex with me is a life choice?”

She shrugged. Emma knew better than to toss her budding feelings at him. Kellan had made his own thoughts on relationships more than clear, and it wouldn’t be helpful to either of them to explain that she didn’t think sex with him would be a quick romp between the sheets, or on the living room floor. “It is for me.”

He nodded and blew out a breath. “Okay, all right.”

She let her hand trail down his arm. “However, I’d like to go to bed with you.”

“I thought you just said—”

“For sleep, Kellan. Just for sleep. I am not going to have sex with you, but I don’t want to go to that temporary room and sleep on a fold out bed after the great night we’ve had.”

“Really?” He sounded suspicious.

“I need comfort, and like it or not, you comfort me. You make me laugh and you keep me from getting too caught up in my own anxiety. Tomorrow I have to get up and plan my dad’s funeral, and I don’t want to think about it tonight. If it’s too much to ask, I get it, I’ll just steal Rocco and—”

He snorted. “All right, all right, come on. Let’s go to bed. Might need a cold shower first, though.”

Chapter 9

Most people were buried in their best. When it came to Emma’s father, this meant that he was buried in his best jeans and a dark button-down shirt with his jean vest, freshly pressed, over his too slim chest. He looked better than he had while he was living, his hair and beard brushed out. They had done something to make his face look less worn.

Tomorrow they would burn him, and the ashes would be separated into three portions. One would go with her, one would go into his shop, the last would sit on the shelf at The Saloon. Emma wasn’t sure she deserved one, but no one would take no for an answer.

“You did good, honey.” Hannah linked her arm through Emma’s, tugging her ever so gently from the viewing and into the reception era. Emma thought Hannah looked like a pretty widow, with a clingy dark dress and a little dark hat on the top of her picture perfect locks. She had no idea how that woman always managed to look so together.

“Thank you,” Emma answered. “After you got me to think about this for the living rather than for him, it got easier. The Saloon was the perfect place to have the viewing.”

“Better than the viewing room the morgue had, right? I mean, sure, little old ladies look good with all that soft pink and gray around, but not Mac Ketchum. I hated seeing him in that too nice room.”

“Agreed.”

“And the pot luck idea was perfect.”

Emma wandered with Hannah over to the long line of food people had offered up. Perogies, breads, casseroles, meatballs, and more. “Blame all the casseroles people were offering me.”

“Why do people always wanna give you food when someone dies?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“That’s a first.” Hannah bumped her hip playfully against Emma’s. “Here I thought you knew everything.”

“Hah!” Emma laughed. “Yeah, no. I just like pretending I do.”

“Well, you did good. Everyone is enjoying themselves, which is good considering.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, rumor has it the last time a club president died there were, like, five fights and a stabbing.”

“Oh god.”

Hannah snorted and thumped her palm against Emma’s shoulder. “You look terrified. Sweetie, everything is fine, everyone is enjoying themselves.” She paused for just a moment. “Some more than others.”

Emma tried to find the line of Hannah’s vision. People were packed into The Saloon, drinking and enjoying the food. There were children, men and women, and even Rocco prowling around looking for bites of food. It took her a moment to get a good look, but there Kellan was with an arm slung around Samantha.

“Oh,” Emma said, feeling her stomach go icy. “How nice for them.”

“You gonna stab her?”

Emma reluctantly admitted, “No. I don’t really have the right.”

“He’s your husband. I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation before. I mean, a version of it.”

“What do you want me to do? Walk up to her and punch her in the face? I could even haul him off and claim him on the office couch.”

“I wouldn’t recommend the couch. Never know who was on it last.”

“Han, I love you, but that’s not helpful.”

“Awww! I love you, too.” Hannah slung an arm around Emma’s shoulders and hugged her, giving her brow a big smooch. Emma wondered if there was a lipstick mark on her forehead. “But you gotta go tell that bitch to back off.”

“He’s not mine, Han. He’s made that very clear. He’s not mine and he doesn’t want to be.”

Hannah paused and stepped in front of Emma. “Do you want him to be yours?”

“Am I stupid if I say yes?”

“A little, but, honey, it’s totally okay to be stupid when it comes to a man. That’s part of the fun of them.” She gave Emma a gentle shake. “But what’s not okay is letting some bitch pop between you and your man.”

“So what do I do?”

“Let me help you,” Hannah said. She ran a hand down her outfit and straightened her hat. “I’ll pull her off, you sweep in.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Emma didn’t have a clue what Hannah told Samantha, but next thing she knew Samantha was being led away from Kellan by a perfectly manicured hand.

Kellan watched it happen with a bemused smile, one that rose another degree when Emma walked up. “I’m not stupid.”

Emma tucked her arm around him. The move felt possessive and barbaric, but she did it anyway. “Hitting on my husband at my father’s funeral is a bitch move.”

“You could have just stabbed her.”

“People keep saying that.” She felt his arm come around her shoulders.

“I do like possessiveness in a woman.”

“It’s very out of character for me.”

Rudy stepped up. There was a layer of sweat along his upper lip, and his eyes were wide. “Emma, Emma, I am so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Emma asked. “What for?”

He didn’t have to answer. A woman stepped into her line of sight. The face was lightly freckled, her hair styled into something that would have looked perfectly at home on the front of Mother’s Weekly. An elegant suit hugged a figure that had rounded and aged well. It took Emma a full minute to recognize the face; it was so similar to the one she looked at in the mirror every morning.

“Mom?” she choked out.

# # #

It was like being in a movie, Kellan thought. There Emma was, the young beautiful heroine. Her lips were parted, and her skin had gone pale. Across the way was her mother, dressed like a high school principal who was just waiting for the music to start.

“Oh, Emma!” Her mom surged forward. If she noticed the fact that three Beasts shifted to flank Emma, she didn’t show it. She was either really brave or really stupid. Kellan was guessing the second. She came to a stop just a few inches away, but she didn’t reach out to her daughter. Maybe she was only half stupid.

It was impossible not to see a similarity between the two of them. They had the same bright blue eyes, the same blonde hair. Emma could very well have been a clone, save for the slight tilt of her chin that was all her father’s.

“You grew up. You are so beautiful.” She reached out a single hand.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked, jerking away from the touch. Her voice was barely a whisper. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly inside the curve of Kellan’s arm.

“Who invited you?” Kellan wasn’t nearly so quiet. People who hadn’t already been watching were swiveling their heads to get a better view. He didn’t care. Let them look.

The woman’s mouth formed into a disproving line. Her eyes narrowed. “I am not here for you. I’m here for my daughter.”

“Well,” Kellan’s voice was a low growl, “that would be a first.”

“Kellan.” Emma placed a hand on his chest. “Let me.”

He didn’t want to let her, he realized. He could see how much this was bothering her. All he could remember was their night out, when she’d talked about her mother abandoning her.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he whispered to her.

Emma’s soft hand cupped his cheek, the thumb running along his skin. “I know.”

She turned back to her mother. Her shoulders squared and she seemed to settle into something. “Mom,” she said flatly. “If you want to say goodbye to Dad, you are welcome to. But don’t pretend you are here for me.”

“Why would you say that?” She placed her ignored hand across her heart as if she had a pain in her chest. “Why would you ever—”

“Because you left.” Emma cut her off. “You left me, and you left him, and neither of us ever heard from you again.”

“Baby, I had to leave, don’t you understand? I had to leave. I couldn’t stay around all that violence and all that…” She glanced around the room. “Crime.”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. Kellan knew when Emma had figured out her angle of attack. She had used that same pursed lip look on him whenever she was going to deliver a verbal blow. “Abandoning your child is a crime, Mother.”

Her mother took a step back, “Emma, I never meant to hurt you.”

“Oh? Then what exactly was your intent? What did you really mean to do when you walked out and left the man you clearly thought so little of with your child?”

“I needed to get my own life together. When I was with your father I depended on him for everything. I got my GED. I went to college. I own my own business now.”

“I’m very happy for you,” Emma answered. “The world needs more female business owners. But I don’t know you, and I don’t want to. I want you to leave.”

“Emma, I’m all the family you’ve got left.”

“No,” Emma snapped back. She took a step forward, but her hand reached back, seeking Kellan’s hand. He linked his fingers through hers. “You aren’t. You aren’t my only family. Yeah, I lost my dad, but do you see all the people here?”

She waved her free hand in the general direction of the rest of the party. “There are people here who came to my science fairs, who came to my graduation, who helped Dad all through his chemotherapy and surgeries. These people, right here, they are my family. You? You are a genetic donor.”

“Emma, that isn’t fair.”

“No, it’s not.” Emma jerked one shoulder in an angry shrug. “But you haven’t really endeared yourself enough to me for fairness, have you? I told you once,.I’ll say it only one more time. I want you to leave.”

Her mother took a long breath. Kellan saw the same pursed look Emma had previously had. “That is your choice. I just thought I’d offer it. If you want to get ahold of me.” She opened the small purse in her hands.

“I won’t,” Emma promised.

“If you do,” she continued, as if Emma hadn’t spoken, “here is my information. I am sorry for your loss.”

She plopped a card down on the table, turned on one heel and walked away. Rudy gave Kellan a look. Kellan could almost hear the question: Do you want me to follow her?

Kellan wanted to know who sent her, where she came from, and where she was going. The woman might not have meant to hurt Emma, but someone had. He gave a nod and Rudy slipped out of the party, pausing long enough to give Hannah a kiss goodbye.

“Excuse me,” Emma said softly, stepping away from Kellan. “I need a moment.”

He let her go. She stormed through the parting crowd towards the back office. The door slammed shut in her wake.

Kellan shook his head. He empathized with her. More than most he knew just how hard that parent crap could be. He didn’t know how he would react if his dad just showed up. No, that wasn’t true. He knew what he would do, and that it would require some bail money afterwards.

“You should go after her.”

Hannah had moved up to his arm. He had no idea when she had walked up, but there she was.

“You think so?”

She nodded and plucked one of the little finger sandwiches off the table. “I do.”

“You trying to set us up?”

She snorted. “Please, that girl doesn’t need help getting set up. She is busty, blonde, and brainy. Which I’m sure you’ve noticed. But this isn’t about that. This is about the fact that her life just came crashing down around her at the worst moment, in the worst way. What she needs is someone to yell at, and someone to cry on.”

“Why me?”

“Because you know all about wanting to scream at a parent.”

“I was thinking something similar a moment ago.”

“Well, then.” She motioned him off. “Go on.”

# # #

“Why did he do it?” Emma asked. Her hands shook as she hit the lever to pour some hot water into a coffee cup. She plopped a tea sachet into the cup and waited. “What in his life was so much that he wanted to be a biker? What was so horrible, so terrible, that he put on a jacket with patches and broke the law? What the hell did he have to prove?”

“Have you ever been on a bike?” His voice was low, even. “Do you know what it means?”

“Means? It means my dad wanted to break the law more than he wanted to raise me, more than he wanted my mother. More than he wanted anything else.”

“I don’t know if I can explain.”

She knitted her brows. Turning off the water and adding sugar to the steadily browning hot water. “Try.”

He shook his head and took a long drag off the cigarette. The tip turned bright as flame, the smoke turned into a plume over his head. He blew the drag out of his nostrils. It formed around his face like mist. “It’s freedom.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t give me that. Don’t—”

“Do you want to hear it? Or do you wanna keep snapping at me?” he asked. He leveled his eyes at her and waited.

She chewed her lip for a moment. “Yeah, I want to know.”

He took another long taste of his cigarette and then flicked it off. His next words came out in slow puffs of gray vapor. “Like I said, it’s freedom. You are used to this big car protecting you from the world. You get in it and you cut yourself off. Everything in there is all yours, your music, your AC, your whatever. It’s isolation. Nothing wrong with that, but isolation isn’t freedom.”

He has a good voice, she thought. There was a rhythm to it that made it easy to listen to. She found her legs relaxing. The cup wasn’t too hot in her hands, just warm enough for comfort. The taste of herbs and sweetness tongue set her at ease. She kept quiet and let him continue.

“You get on the bike and it starts off a little scary. What are you doing, how do you find your balance? It’s like that first time your daddy let’s go of a bike when you are learning to ride.” He paused. “Well, if you had a daddy who did that kind of thing, I guess. The wind slaps you in the face, too hot or too cold, hell, sometimes it’s even raining.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly freeing.”

“That’s just how it starts. After a little while it gets to be more. It becomes more. I mean at first, yeah, it’s pain. But then everything changes. Somewhere between shifting gears and leaning into turns you aren’t just someone riding a bike. You are part of the wind and the rain. You are flying, flying down the road at sixty, or seventy, or eighty. You are high and you are completely free. Nothing matters, not your bills, or your supposedly non-existent daddy issues.”

“You are surprisingly poetic.”

His mouth parted into a shy grin. “You surprised, Miss College?”

“A little,” she answered. She stood up slowly and wrapped a single arm around him. “I like it.”

He put an arm around her back. She leaned her head into the curve of his shoulder. The warm heat of the muscles beneath the denim and the leather sank into her skin. The scent of him beneath all that, Irish soap and some earthy aroma that was all Kellan, infiltrated her senses. For a moment, just a moment, she forgot he wasn’t hers.

She liked him now. No, that wasn’t fair. Emma had always liked Kellan. She had always been enamored of his dark hair and blue eyes, the bad boy swagger. The truth was she’d never really known him. She had just known what he looked like, not who he was. She had learned, over the weeks, that Kellan was a strong man, jagged around the edges, but soft in heart.

But he wasn’t hers. Not really.

There was a knock. Leon poked his head in the door. “Hey, I don’t mean to bug you two.”

“What’s up?” Kellan asked.

“The morgue guys are ready to load up Mac, and there is some paperwork issue that Emma needs to sign off on.”

She cleared her throat and stepped back. “All right, thanks, Leon.”

“I’ll make sure he gets loaded up safely while you sign off on things.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

The guys from the morgue were navigating the hearse around the back of the bar. They gave her a wave as Kellan jogged over to them to help figure everything out. She watched him for just a moment before she saw the other man waving her over.

“Mrs. Mathers?” he asked. He was wearing a nice suit with sensible loafers. “I hate to be a bother. I’m Kyle Richards, I’m one of the lawyers down at Wesley & Manuel. I’m handling your father’s passing. And we have a few questions we’d like to run past you.”

He flicked out a card and passed it to her. She gave it a look and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of days.”

And she wasn’t expecting him here at all. It bugged her that he had come to her father’s wake. It didn’t seem very professional. Maybe it was normal when you had the wake at the actual funeral home.

“Questions?” she asked, swallowing her frustration. “What kind of questions?”

“His last will and testament, for one. A few question about the dissolution of his business assets.” He motioned for her to follow as he headed towards a sleek-looking car.

“It won’t take long, will it? It’s been a long day.”

“I understand” He nodded. “No, it won’t take very long at all. If it would make things easier, I can meet you at another time?”

“No,” she sighed. “No, let’s get it done.”

He reached out to take her hand. She was reaching out to take his when she saw it. The sleeve slid up his wrist, exposing the very bottom of a tattoo. She couldn’t see the entire thing, but she could see a flare of blue cloth, the ink forming flowing fabric over the wrist, the outer edges had the pale tones of someone haloed in pure light.

She moved before she could think. She shoved the sleeve farther up. There the Virgin Mary was, splayed out across the man’s wrist, her demure face tilted to the right in maternal love. She shook her head. She drew in a breath to scream when the man opened his jacket to show the gun hidden there.

“Don’t scream, don’t you dare scream.”

“Who are you?”

He smiled, but there was no kindness in it. It was a mad smile, all teeth and no humor. “I’m a friend of Gabriel’s. Now get in the car. Don’t say anything. Don’t warn anyone.”

Emma’s heart was racing. She didn’t want to get in that car. There was no telling where it was going to go, but she was sure it wasn’t anywhere she wanted to be. She swallowed hard. She took a single step towards the car.

“There we go, nice and easy.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because Gabriel asked.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?”

“I dunno,” she snapped back as they neared the car. “Because kidnapping is wrong?”

He made a shrug of one shoulder. “For me, sweetie, it’s all business. Your father caused us a big problem. Gabriel has decided that you are how we even things out.”

“Why?” she asked. “My father is dead. It’s not going to do anything to anyone to hurt me.”

“That’s a question you’ll have to ask the man himself.”

She snorted. “What? You don’t rank high enough on the totem pole?”

His eyes flared. She saw his shoulder jerk beneath his jacket. He didn’t like being talked down to. That was interesting. It could work for her if she kept messing with that button.

“Get in the car.”

“No.”

“Bitch, I will shoot you.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, pretending she couldn’t taste fear in the back of her throat. “I’m sure you could. I mean, someone as low tier as you probably turns to his gun every second he gets, right? You gotta prove yourself to be a really tough guy.”

His hand flew out and connected with her face. Her head jerked to the side. The tips of his fingers had caught along her ear, causing them to ring. She let her body stumble more than necessary in the hopes of drawing attention.

“Hey!” someone shouted. She didn’t know the voice. “Kellan!”

She tried to take a step towards the voice, but her legs gave. Feet pounded towards her. Hands, strong and angry, hauled her backwards. She struggled, but his arm came across her neck and he hefted her upwards. He was stronger than he looked. She wiggled, but his arm tightened until she started to gasp. Her vision went blurry around the edges.

Another hand curled around her middle. Her mind filled with memories of being in her dorm room. Her body started to shake. She growled and snapped and clawed with her hands.

“No!” she shouted. She threw her weight forward and felt her feet hit the ground. Her Aikido took over and she jabbed backwards, trying to put a bit of space between her and her assailant. He jerked back, but his hand struck out once more. It had the same arcing style of someone who had a lot more training than she did. It struck against her collar. If she hadn’t known to roll back, it might have broken.

“No!” she said again. “I’m not going with you.”

A blur shot by her, and she heard the sickening crack of breaking bone. The arm released her and she collapsed to the ground. Strong arms hefted her up and she recognized the spice and herb scent of Kellan. She buried herself in it, wrapped herself in the comfort of it.

“He’s Gabriel’s,” she tried to explain, not sure why she still thought it was important to tell him. “He tried to take me.”

He nodded, “I know, I know.”

She heard another break, and that confused her. Hadn’t it been Kellan who freed her? She blinked open her eyes and looked over her shoulder. Phantom was there, pale and slender. Blood stood out on one cheek. He stood over the prone body of her would-be captor with a small blade in his delicate hand.

“Well?” he asked. And it was then that she realized it had been Phantom who had called out to Kellan.

“Send everyone home, bring him into the club,” Kellan ordered. “Find out what he knows.”

Phantom nodded his head.

Kellan picked Emma up. “Leon and Vinny, oversee everything else. Joe, deal with the man’s car.”

Orders given, everyone jumped to obey.

Hannah asked if Emma needed anything.

“Yeah,” Kellan said as he walked the two of them towards his bike. “Drop her car off later.”

Chapter 10

Kellan had been right: a bike was freedom. There was something about the rumble of it beneath her, and the feel of the wind against her skin that made her feel vibrantly alive. She didn’t just think it was the adrenaline wearing off, though she could feel her head spinning with that, it was the sensation of being utterly exposed to the world as it went by at sixty miles an hour.

In the past month she had been attacked not once, but twice. Her father had passed away. She had gotten married and moved in with a husband who kept claiming that he didn’t want her, but liked to grope her backside and came rushing to her rescue. Her mother had shown up out of nowhere. It was easily too much for any one person to take.

He didn’t take the straightest way home. She didn’t know if he was making sure they weren’t being followed, or that she had enough time to relax. Maybe both. She wrapped her hands tighter around his middle and leaned her cheek against his leather-clad back.

She loved him, and she knew it. When she had been afraid, it had been his presence she had turned to. She had known his arms, his scent. Maybe she’d always loved him; maybe she hadn’t loved him until that moment. She really couldn’t say. There was a small chance that she had loved him before he’d ever walked into her life. It didn’t matter, she knew it now, and she wasn’t going to let him go.

Too much in her life was easy to walk away from. Her father, school, and the not really friends she had made over the years. Hannah may one day be a friend; she was definitely trying.

When they turned down a familiar street she knew he was finally taking her home.

Rocco was bouncing from one side of the living room to the other when they walked in, clearly ready for a walk. Kellan gave him a perfunctory pat and moved past the spot where the leash was hanging and came back from his room with a pistol in his hand.

“This is for you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” She tried to keep her tone light. She didn’t reach for the gun.

“Emma, you’ve been attacked twice now. It’s time for you to be armed.”

“Statistically, a woman with little or no training with a weapon is more likely to have the weapon used against her than to use it well enough to be of help.”

“Where do you get all this?”

“I read.”

“Well, I can tell you from real experience that a chick with a gun can be scary enough to keep the bad guys back.”

She leveled her gaze at him. Her lips parted with every intention to explain how many women had been assaulted with their own guns, but he shoved it into her hands. The weight of it had her blinking. “It’s heavy!”

“It’s a weapon, not a feather. Keep it with you.”

“Fine,” she said, unwilling to argue. “Take the dog out before I have to clean up a mess.”

He gave her one final look before plucking up the leash and heading out the door.

She waited until he was gone to put the gun carefully on the table; images of it accidentally going off filled her head. Emma knew they were ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop them from happening anyway. She much preferred Aikido, or other forms of martial arts for self-protection. Guns were too easy to take away, too easy to use. It took passion to punch someone. It took a muscle jerk to pull a finger.

With a few minutes to herself she headed to the bedroom. Her funeral dress felt heavy as she tugged it off her shoulder and tossed it across the room like a memory she already wished she could forget. There were too many of those lately. With a careless gesture she undid her long hair, brushing it out as she mentally picked out pajamas.

Too many bad memories lately. Too many bad memories that made up her life. All she wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was a nice, quiet life. She wanted to not have to look out a window and worry. She wanted to find a good man, have a baby or two, and make a simple life.

She loved Kellan, but life with him could never be simple.

Emma sighed at herself and heard the beep of her phone. She glanced at the message. It was Kellan. Keep the gun with you, not sitting out somewhere.

She stuck her tongue out at the screen and typed back, How did you know?

He responded a few minutes later with, I’m not a college boy, but I can read you like a book.

It brought a smile to her face. With a dramatic sigh that no one heard she went into the living room and plucked the gun off the table. It was still heavy. She lugged it back to her room and put it on the table next to her bed. There, she thought, he can’t complain about the location now.

Emma didn’t want him to complain. She wanted him to like her. No, she amended, she wanted him to love her. Or at least admit that he felt something for her besides respect for her now deceased father.

She hadn’t even realized what she was planning until she pulled on a red satin nightgown. The shade of it brought out the natural hue in her cheeks, made her skin look luminescent. The fabric was dark and clingy, cupping the natural shape of her breasts so her nipples stood out like thumb tips. The skirt wasn’t particularly long, but there were high slits that flashed a good amount of thigh every time she walked.

Emma had bought the nightgown as a joke. Today she wasn’t laughing. She let her hair fall around her face. She knew she looked good; it didn’t take much. She wondered how much it would take to seduce Kellan, her husband.

She’d never tried seducing a man before. The one or two who had fumbled their way into her pants hadn’t been all that interesting, and hadn’t sparked her desire to try again. But Kellan was different, his presence was magnetic. The touch of his lips had her toes curling in a way she had always thought was pure myth.

She planned on finding out exactly how much her toes could curl tonight.

When the front door opened she pulled a robe over her shoulders. She took one last look in the little mirror. She didn’t look half bad, she decided. In fact, she looked good. She ran her fingers through her hair, making it look sensually rumpled. She didn’t bother with makeup, though she was tempted. It was too late anyway, and chances were it would just get all messed up.

“Emma?” he called.

She stood up and opened her bedroom door. “This is it,” she whispered to herself. She walked out of the bedroom and looked at him. It must have started to rain because Kellan was damp with droplets. Rocco shook off his own wet and pranced around her legs.

“Oh no,” she said, sidestepping the mutt, “you go lay down in your bed. You are all wet.”

While Rocco didn’t understand the whole statement, his ears pricked at the phrase “go lay down.” With an aggrieved huff he wandered off to Kellan’s room, leaving the two humans very much alone.

“I called Rudy while we were on a walk. Turns out Samantha is the one who told your mom to come.”

Emma felt a lash of heat ripple through her. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what she was thinking.”

Emma looked into his face. His brows were smooth and his eyes open wide enough that she could see that he really didn’t know. For all his talents with people, he really was oblivious. “Then you are an idiot.”

“What?”

Emma shook her head, making her loose hair fan out around her face. “She wants you. She wants you bad, and she thinks I am standing in the way of you having her.”

He continued to look confused. “But you aren’t.”

Emma chuckled, low and unamused. Her eyes were glittering with the kind of anger that was born out of frustration and possessiveness. It wasn’t quite jealousy, but it was pretty close. “But she thinks so. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want me around. I can’t blame her. I’m definitely the better woman.”

His lips curled into a smile. “I won’t argue about the better woman thing. It’s really no competition from where I am standing.”

She liked the way that sounded. Maybe seducing him wouldn’t be that difficult. “Oh really?”

He ran his tongue over his lips, they glittered softly. She wanted to kiss them, wanted to melt into them. She managed to keep her distance, at least for the moment. 

“Listen, I hate to burst your bubble, but even if you weren’t around, I’m not going for Samantha. I don’t like her.”

“I know I’m not the worldliest person when it comes to this kind of thing, but I’m fairly aware that people can have sex with someone they don’t like.”

He shrugged and tugged off his damp jacket. With a haphazard gesture he tossed it across the back of the couch. She frowned at him. She didn’t like to think of herself as a nagging housewife, but she had spent her boring hours trying to make his bachelor pad a little less cluttered. Besides, rainwater could make things moldy.

With a stern look from her he picked it up and hung it in the closet. “Yeah, all right. I’m sure I could. But that girl is like a virus. She likes to latch on and stick around even when you are done with her. And yeah, she’s hot but there is nothing else there. She doesn’t talk, she isn’t nice, and hell, I’ve heard from a couple of the guys that the sex isn’t that great.”

“Poor Samantha.” Emma took a deep breath and blew it slowly out of her nostrils. She wasn’t going to let that woman ruin this moment. She wasn’t even here. With a deft movement she tugged the sash loose and opened up the robe. “Poor, poor Samantha.”

Maybe it was the tone in her voice, or the flash of skin as the robe opened. Either way, Kellan’s head whipped towards her. “What are you wearing?”

“Not much.”

“Jesus, woman. Put yourself away.” He took a step back. His misty hazel eyes were wide.

“No.” She kept her tone firm. With more grace than she had known she was capable of she sauntered over to him. She thought of Hannah’s expert sashay. His gaze darted down to the swell of her breasts, the movement of her hips. “I don’t think so. You see, I plan on using you tonight.”

He blinked as if she’d struck him across the face with a pan. “You…what? Use me? How?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on her toes. Her lips nearly brushed his as she talked. “Kellan, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m stressed. This is worse than finals. Hell, this is like three weeks worth of finals with no notes and no study time. Everything in my life is screwed up one way and down another and I am just not okay with that. What I want, what I need, is to relax…and you are real good at helping me with that.”

He cleared his throat. “You think so?”

“Well, you’ve put your mouth on me often enough to give me an inkling. More than that, our little encounter in the kitchen had me thinking that you’d be real good at making me forget all my problems.”

She felt his muscles tense, the clutch of his fingers still at his sides. He was like a wire that she was tightening. If she kept going, she was almost sure he would break. She wanted him to break for her. After all these years wondering what Kellan would be like, she wanted the reality of it.

“Emma, I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He didn’t move as her arms slithered around his middle.

She stepped close enough that her breasts brushed against his chest with every breath. His hands flexed at his sides. She ran her tongue over her own lips and felt him shudder against her. His eyes had zeroed down into pinpoints.

“I’m sober,” she reminded him. “I am stone cold sober and I just had a near death incident. Forgive me if I want a big strong man to make me remember why I’m alive.”

“Emma, seriously.” He stepped back suddenly, pulling himself out of the ring of her embrace. She stumbled just a little, and all the confidence she had gained evaporated.

She huffed out an uneven breath. This was a mistake. She never should have thought she could seduce him. She had no practice, and he’d had girls like Samantha throw themselves at him. Just the thought of that plastic Barbie had her blood humming with a vengeful need. Sure, he might say he didn’t want the leggy bimbo, but what guy would really say not to that?

“Fine.” She whirled away and took two long steps down the hall. Her robe was like a cape behind her, fluttering with her frustration.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“To call Joe. If you won’t help me, maybe he will,” she responded flippantly.

“He won’t. You are my wife.”

She whirled back. Her eyes turning to hot slate. “Oh, am I? I mean, it’s on paper, but you’ve made it very clear to everyone that you aren’t really my husband. So, by default, I’m not really your wife. Joe’s a smart boy, college and everything. I’m sure he has had practice. Yes, you know, the more I think about it, the more I like it. He’s more my speed anyway.”

The words hit home. She saw his jaw become a hard angry line. He closed the distance between them and pressed his body to hers. She felt herself pinned between the cold wall and his hot form. Bright hazel eyes flickered down at her. He gripped her arms and pushed them against the plaster. She pushed herself towards him.

“You play a dangerous game, little girl,” he hissed. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I am not a little girl.” She surged against him, molding her body to his like a wave of barely restrained need. His hips twitched in response. “Maybe you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed.” His fingers skimmed down her wrist, towards the curve of her side. “I’ve been doing nothing but noticing. You’ve been driving me nuts.”

“Prove it,” she baited.

With a growl his mouth came down, hers went up. She couldn’t call it a kiss, not really. It was an onslaught of lips and tongue and teeth. Their mouths mated like it was a battle. He smelled like rain and masculinity and she wanted to drown in it.

“Do you want this?” He ground himself against her.

She felt the unrelenting throb of him shove against the tenderest part of her. “Yes!” Her voice echoed off the walls. “Yes, I do! Give it to me, Kellan. Give it all.”

“Fine,” he snarled. “Fine.”

With one move he hefted her up and took her into her own room. The lights were off and he didn’t bother turning them on. Her eyes weren’t quite adjusted to the dark when she felt her back greet the familiar cotton of her bedspread. She heard rather than saw fabric hitting the floor, the slide of a t-shirt over flesh, the metallic whisper of a zipper. When he prowled over her supple form she knew he was naked without touching him.

He perched over her, the foldout bed shifting with his weight so she slid into the natural sag of the mattress. Her newly adjusted eyes could make out the outline of his wide body sinking down her own form. The distant sliver of light that came through the gaps around the door illuminated the wrought muscles in his arms.

Her hands found him in the dark. Warm, his skin was so deliciously warm. She traced the solid outline of his body. Her fingers sliding up one way and down the other, touching every bit of his back. She could feel the outlines of scar tissue. Some were the satiny lines of tattoo work. Some were the deeper, harsher rigid skin of long healed battle wounds.

His palms slid beneath her red dress and cupped against her womanhood. She couldn’t see what he did. All she could do was feel it. She arched, acutely aware of his fingers sliding over her sex. She was shocked with how wet she was, suddenly and completely wet.

“Kellan,” she gasped.

“Not quite ready,” he whispered in the dark. “Let’s fix that.”

He slid one finger into her, and she groaned. She was enthralled with his touch. That single digit worked in and out, caressing her walls until he found that perfect spot, the perfect rhythm, and then he played it relentlessly. When she was soft and pliant with her need he slid a second digit into her. The hungry stretch of her body welcomed the pleasure.

“There’s my sweet college lady,” he murmured against her thigh. His breath was cooler than the heat of her skin. “Give in.”

“To what?”

“Pleasure.”

His hand shifted before he kissed her  His tongue slithered over her, quick and light, like the kiss of a snake. It darted over her again and again. His hand moved in countermotion to his tongue. Shocks of pleasure pulsed through her with every movement.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “Oh god, don’t stop.”

A fire began inside her body, stoked by the way he teased her. She began to move her hips, arching against the need he fed. She was a furnace, and he stoked her. He seemed to know just how she needed to be touched, tended, and pleasured.

“Is this what you need?” His breath tickled along her body.

“More,” she groaned. “God give me more.”

She felt his breath on her thigh when he chuckled. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you?”

She wrapped her legs suddenly around his middle. With a shove of her body she had him against the bed with her riding his chest.

“Damn, woman!” He laughed. “Those are some slick moves.”

“Oh, sweetie, you have absolutely no idea.”

She bent over him so her breasts, heavy and soft, swept along his face as she moved down his body. The pert peaks of her nipples drew their way down his naked form until she mounted his lap with pride. Her nightgown, still in place, made a shimmering fan over his hips, blocking either of them from seeing when she rocked her body against his in a parody of lovemaking.

He was so hard against her. She could feel him like steel encased in satin, pushing against her soaked lips. She moved over him again, her body a wave of sensuality.

“Mmm, Emma.” He reached to her hips, gripping the rounded flesh against his callused palms. “You teasing me?”

“Only for a little while,” she promised. “Just until you feel like you are going to break.”

She rocked over him, reveling in the power of keeping him pinned against the bed with her own body. Kellan Mathers was hers, if only for this moment. Would he want her again after this? Would this be their only night together? She hoped not. She pushed that thought away. It did not matter if this were only for a moment. It mattered that it was happening now, that this could never be taken away.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Kellan.” She ran a single hand down his tattooed chest. “So goddamned long. I wanted to draw this out, take my time, but I don’t think I can.”

“Emma,” he said. His eyes glittered up at her in the dark like ghosts on a gray lake. “Emma, we got all night. Do what you want, baby. Do what you need.”

It was just what she wanted to hear. For all her planning of seduction she hadn’t lied. She wanted to feel alive. Her body ached with a need to be caressed, wanted, and given release. It was a heavy feeling, and she wanted to feed it.

She steadied her body by splaying her fingers across his chest. If she concentrated, she could see his eyes, those smoky hazel eyes that had haunted her teenage years. She could feel the smoothness of his skin beneath his palms. Emma pushed back, feeling the blunt tip of him pushing against her slick opening.

“Oh yes,” she purred.

She rolled her hips, stirring her body on top of his. The hot weight of well used fingers sliding over her hips to cup her breasts made her tremble. Awareness fed into every part of her body. She felt the cotton blanket beneath her knees, the sleek caress of his skin against her calves. His breathing pushing her hands up and down on his chest. Everything fed the fire that he had started. Heat burned along her skin.

It had never been like this for her before. Part of her wanted to understand it. Was it Kellan? Was it all those years of pent up frustration? Was it everything that was going on? Probably a mix of all three.

“Kellan…”

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Go on, take me, Emma.”

Her knees clamped against his naked hips. A thin layer of sensual sweat spilled between them. She shoved herself backwards, piercing her body with his. One moment she was empty, the next she was full of him. The weight of her body pushed him to the very depths of her.

The world fell away. The near dark of the room made the sensation all the more intimate. She could barely see him, but she could feel him. She felt the spring of hair on his legs against her ankles, and she heard the hitch of his breath become a hungry moan as she took him inside of her.

“Hot,” he groaned, “so damn hot.”

She moved, she shifted her body up and down on top of his, plunging him into her over and over again. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. Her body simply would not cooperate with the depth of her desire.

“More,” she pleaded. She didn’t know what would bring her. She hoped he did. “I need more.”

“Grab the back of the bed,” he coaxed.

“Hmm?” It made no sense to her. “The bed?”

He didn’t repeat it. He gripped her hands and put them on the back of the couch. She dug her fingers into the soft cushion. The fabric bunched against her palms. He grabbed her hips hard enough to keep her still. His fingers laced over the swell of her buttocks. For a moment she didn’t understand what he was doing, and then he levered into her. The tip of his shaft breached the deepest parts of her. Dimly she knew it should hurt, but it didn’t. It was pleasure with the fine edge of pain. 

She must have made some sound because he went completely still beneath her.

“Emma?”

“Don’t stop,” she hissed at him.

He took her at her word and pounded into her from below. She felt every stroke of his thrusting body as he surged up and up. His shaft pushed deep, and deeper. She held on for dear life, bending her body to contain his rigid shaft.

Then, quite suddenly, the pain of it disappeared. It was as if her entire body accepted the sensual assault. His thrusts became heavy and erratic. It was glorious.

“Oh god!”

“There we go,” he grunted. “Take it, Emma. Take it.”

The fire whelmed inside of her. Her skin felt too tight.

“Kellan, oh god, Kellan!”

The fire burst with such heat that for a moment it blinded her. Her hips moved of their own accord, drawing every shock wave of pleasure through her. She was flying, and then it went higher. One moment she was inside of her body, the next she was falling into an inferno of ecstasy.

“Emma.” The strangled sound of that one word made her clutch around him.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.

His body twitched, taking on that uneven rhythm of a man too close to the end to have anything resembling control. Rough hands raked over her tingling body as he struggled to make it last just a little more.

He cursed, over and over again, his voice jagged with desperation. A moment later he cried out and filled her.

# # #

The pullout bed was small with Kellan in it, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to mind. At some point they had turned on the lights, and all she could see was his long legged form laid out against the rumpled sea of her bed sheets. It looked good.

“Relaxed yet?” he asked.

“Getting there.” She smirked. She was tucked into the muscular curve of one tattooed arm.

He lay back, stretching his free arm back over his head. She watched his stomach do a fascinating dance with the moment. “All right, you just let me know when you are ready for round two. I’ll see what I can do about the rest of your tightly wound body.”

She laughed and shook her head. Her finger traced along the collarbone, and then down the center of his chest. The light brought out the colors of his tattoos. Most of them were dark ink, grayscale works of art forever imprinted on his skin, but a few had vibrant color in them.

“Did you know, in Russia, the tattoos that convicts and criminals have are basically their record? They mark what crimes they have committed on themselves like a body résumé.”

He raised one brow at her while her finger trailed over the largest one on his chest. It was just Beasts, spelled out in Old English script. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the line work involved, like ink-driven poetry.

“Arkaday Bronnikov made a big study of it between the 1960s and the 1980s. He wanted to understand exactly why criminals liked to tattoo themselves. What it was about ink on the skin that marked a person as other.” She squirmed into a half sitting position, pillowing her head on the palm of one hand while the other continued the trek across his body.

Her eyes flicked up to his face. His eyes were closed but his lips were curled into a gentle smile. The locks of dark hair had more curl to them than they’d had before, probably from all the sweating. She reached up and brushed it out of his face.

He glanced down at her. “Did he figure out why?” He lifted his head up so his eyes could follow her fingers as she spelled out the name of the club that had affected her life since childhood.

“Well, he didn’t, but a few sociologists have proposed that it goes back to warrior cultures. Many societies in which the warrior, or hunter or whatever name you want to use, was exalted using their scars to tell a story. Over time they added ink to wounds to make the scars last longer. Over time needles and ink replaced this. Their best warriors used this as a kind of bragging.”

“Yeah, I can tell you that criminals totally love to brag.” His gentle smile turned into a wide grin.

She smirked and sat up completely, tucking her legs close to her body. She leaned over him, her form still clad in red satin. “Can you tell me that criminals see themselves as warriors?”

He seemed to really think about it. Emma liked that. Her finger moved from the marking at the top of his chest to the larger picture on his arm, an attractive woman with flowing hair straddling some bike parts. At least she assumed they were bike parts.

“I do,” he admitted with a small hint of pride. “Most of the club does. Hey, I thought you were into, like, animal science. Why are you studying tattoos and criminals?”

Her gaze flicked up to his face. Her lip quirked up to one side. “Really? I mean, how weird that a girl who grew up around a criminal subculture might be interested in understanding it.”

“You could have just asked.” He patted his chest. “We would have answered.”

She shrugged. Her gaze slid away to focus on a completely uninteresting fold in the sheet. “Yeah, well. That would have taken me admitting that I didn’t know to begin with, that I didn’t pay attention, and I would have hated that. I like showing off what I know, not what I don’t.”

“You like to brag, too.” He poked a finger to her belly.

“I am my father’s daughter.” She sighed. “No matter how hard I tried not to be.”

He patted her hip. “Tell me about the Russian dude with the tattoo fetish. Archie…Bro…something”

“Arkaday Bronnikov.” She laughed. It was amazing how Kellan did that. She could have broken, she could have let herself become blanketed in her own self-doubt at her family, but he gave her a way to feel better, a way to talk. “He didn’t have a fetish, he had an interest.”

“Sounds the same to me.”

“Remind me to explain the difference between interests and fetishes later.” She smiled and waggled her brows.

“Man, you know, it’s kinda hot when you talk all this shit.” His hands went from her hips upwards to pull the satin fabric up. He revealed the creamy flesh in slow inches.

She watched him as he kept pushing the fabric farther and farther up her body. Her arms lifted above her head and the fabric came with it. The breeze was cool on her nipples. 

“What’s that?” he asked.

“What?” She tried to sound as innocent as possible.

“You have a tattoo?” His grin was brilliant. “Are you serious?”

She rolled her eyes, dipping her head as her cheeks flamed with a blush. “I am my father’s daughter.”

“What is it?” He drew his finger over the patch of skin beneath her breasts, marked with the single snake twined around a rod. A simple V over the middle of it.

“The Rod of Ascelpius.”

“Is that, like, a medicine thing?”

“Yeah, I mean, okay most people know the caduceus, which has two snakes, rather than the single one. It is a common symbol of the people who take the Hippocratic oath and all that. You see it all over medical facilities and similar places. The rod and the snake are associated with an ancient Greek god of healing and medicine. The dual snake, with the wings and all that, was made for the US Medical Core, and got really popular, despite the fact that this is the more historically correct version.”

“Why?” he asked. He put a single arm around her back and pulled her unto his lap. He was still soft, the loose satiny skin of his masculinity pressed against her still damp folds.

“Smart people make mistakes, too.”

He grinned and sat up, placing a single kiss along the tattoo. “I like it”

She wiggled, and she could feel how much he liked it. He was beginning to swell against her. “Oh really?”

“Tell me more.” He kissed a line beneath her breasts, his lips trailing beneath the heavy swell. “Keep talking. I like the way you talk about all that smart shit.”

“Tell you more about what?” She gasped as his tongue darted out to caress along her breast. “Tattoos?”

“Mm-hmmm,” he purred, his teeth grazing along the tender flesh. “Tell me more.”

She did. Between kisses and licks along the bottoms of her breasts she gasped out symbolism and criminology, but her eyes fluttered back when his mouth wrapped around her taut nipple. Her hips rolled against him instinctively. He suckled at her, one strong arm wrapping around her back as she bucked.

“Kellan.”

Her hands sank into his dark locks of hair. They were curls of obsidian against her fingers, wrapping languidly around the digits. His lips suckled until her flesh puckered with the movement. A tingle started somewhere between her breast and his lips, arching along her skin with potent pleasure. The moment the pleasure edged into too much, he released her nipple.

He went from one breast to the other, back and forth, back and forth until she was dizzy with need.

“God, Kellan.”

“What?”

“You are so damn good at this.”

“Am I?” His eyes flickered with masculine pleasure.

She tightened her fingers in his hair and he gave a hiss. It wasn’t a painful one. She tugged again and his head fell back. “You know you are.”

“You are a kinky lady.”

“You like it.”

“Let me show you how much.”

He rolled her over onto her back and pressed his shaft to her opening. He was already hard; she felt the weight of it against her thigh. She made a low sound as his mouth went to her neck. It was not a soft or gentle tasting of skin, but the dragging of teeth down tender flesh.

“Oh yes,” she whispered.

He sat up, and she watched the long line of his flat stomach as he pumped the first inch of himself into her. He circled his hips, stirring her open. His hands wrapped over the curves of her thighs, parting her legs until her knees touched the bed. She felt exposed, and open in a way that went beyond the physical.

She ran her tongue over her lips, watching him shift between her thighs, skillfully keeping that blunt tip of himself rooted inside.

“Goddamn, you are pretty,” he whispered, starring down at her. She felt an unexpected blush rise to her cheeks. He circled his hips again and it sent sparks humming through her.

“Kellan?”

“Yeah?”

“Ravage me.” She pumped her hips towards him. “Make me forget the world.”

He gave a grunt of satisfaction and shoved himself into her.

Had she been unprepared it would have hurt, but her body was so pliant for his that all she felt was the sharp edge of rough pleasure. Her hands dug into the sheets and his fingers dug into her flesh. Kellan held her completely still as he did it again. With the lights on, she could see every hypnotic play of his body as he pumped himself into her.

“Like that?”

“Oh!” she gasped.  “Do it again.”

He did. She felt him drive himself against the primal part of her need. She had always thought of roughness as inelegant and unnecessary, but she had been wrong.

His eyes glittered down at her as his hips picked up speed. The wet slap of their bodies echoed off the walls. She could feel each individual finger on her legs, keeping her open. A dull ache bloomed beneath his touch. There would be bruises in the morning, but she didn’t care. She felt wild and reckless, and she wanted to be taken past the point of thought.

“More,” she gasped. “Kellan, give me more.”

He fell on top of her, releasing her legs and mating his mouth to hers. His tongue plunged between her lips even as he plunged between her thighs. Her arms wrapped around his back and she clutched at him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

A layer of sweat formed where their bodies touched. It was a tantric full body mating that made her mind spin. They slipped against one another with every raw movement. There was no practiced, careful rhythm as there had been the first time, just a desperate need to feel one another. It rode the edge of too much and yet not quite enough. Emma dug her nails in hard. He tore his mouth away from hers and let loose a wild sound that drove her crazy.

“Harder,” she demanded. “Damn you, Kellan, harder.”

He pulled out of her, and she whimpered. He grabbed one hip and rolled her to her belly, lifting her backside into the air. He slipped along her cleft, once, twice, and then he was back inside of her. Her nails dug into the sheets as his hand slid up the sweat soaked line of her back. It cupped her shoulder, holding her against the mattress.

“Yes! Just like that, Kellan, just like that.”

“So beautiful,” he groaned as he levered into her over and over again.

Her body bounced, jerked with the movement, and she loved it. She could feel him pushing, pounding into the deepest parts of her body. Her orgasm came on her without warning. There was no steady, glorious build, just a wild, desperate breaking. It was blissful, unbearable, and liberating. She didn’t care, sinking into the tempest of her ecstasy as the unchecked pulse of their lovemaking crashed around them.

When it was over she slid against the sheets. Someone had left claw marks in them. Emma was only dimly aware that it was her. When she poked at them in the pleasant lethargy of afterglow he smirked.

“I think you did the same thing to my back.”

She glanced down at him. “Did I?”

He rolled over and showed her the ragged red marks that went from his shoulders down to the middle of his back.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare.” He wrapped an arm around her middle and hauled her down to him. His lips were gentle when he pressed them to hers, but firm. “I liked it.”

She smiled, and bumped her forehead against his. “Perv.”

He shrugged and settled back against the ruin of her bed. “There are worse things I could be.”

“True enough.” She settled against him, tossing one leg over his hip. There was an ache in the movement that told her she was definitely going to be bruises.

“Your mind all settled yet?”

She thought about it for a moment, then laid a kiss on his shoulder. “Yeah, I think it is.”

“Good, because I think I’ve only got one or two left in me tonight, and if you need more than that, I might have to wave a flag.”

“Poor you.”

He kissed her again. “No, no, poor you.”

Chapter 11

Kellan’s life was marked with one mistake after another. More often than not he just rolled away from them and forgot about it. He couldn’t do that here, not with Emma. That sweet little college girl hadn’t just given him a night of passion. It had turned into a three-week marathon of naked bodies and sweating flesh.

“Will you tell me about your dad?” she asked, crawling into bed one night. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else. Her hair was still mussed from their most recent bed-destroying session.

He stiffened. “What?”

“I was just thinking about my dad.”

“Emma, if after all the things we just did you are thinking about your dad, I’m gonna have to say you need to see someone.”

She laughed and shoved at his naked side with a cold foot.

He winced and grabbed it, pulling it away from his skin. “Jesus! Did you soak those in ice water?”

“I’m cold.” Her voice was soft.

He sighed and pulled the blanket around her. A very bored Rocco jumped up to add his own body heat.

She reached down and petted the beast. “You’ve stolen my dog.”

“I did not.” She turned that dazzling smile on him. “He just knows good people when he sees them. And don’t think I don’t know what you are doing.”

“What am I doing?” He wrapped an arm around her. “Man, you are cold.”

“I told you.” She hunkered down next to him. She smelled like toothpaste and rain. “And you are trying to change the subject. Tell me about your dad.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because you kinda stole mine.” She didn’t sound angry when she said it. Had she been angry, he might have been able to snap back at her, or ignore the question altogether.

He tucked the blanket tighter around them both. “He was a mean damn drunk.”

“That couldn’t have been all he was.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” She shifted her body against his and snuggled into the curve of his shoulder. He could feel her breath on his naked skin. “Because my dad was a mean damn drunk, but he was also a good person. So your dad had to be more than that.”

He could have argued it, but it wouldn’t have much mattered. Mac had been mean, especially when he didn’t get his way, and he liked his liquor as much as the next man, at least until he started chemo. It wasn’t the same, but he got what she was saying.

“Yeah, all right. He came from a poor family and thought the military was the only place for him. At least that’s what he said. He also had a habit of lying about who he was and where he came from, but that’s what he said most often, so I think it’s true.”

“So he was in the military?”

“I think he was, he could shoot like he was. He liked to shoot things. One of the things he used to do was take me out hunting. He said it was important I learn how to hunt. I couldn’t tell you why, but it seemed pretty damn important to him.”

“Oh?”

He could hear the hesitation in her voice. The slow soft way she asked the question, like she didn’t really want to know the answer, but she couldn’t quite stop herself from asking it anyway.

He rolled over and offered up his shoulder. He couldn’t see it but he knew it was there, a long scar in the shape of a jagged crescent moon. He felt the muted sensation of her fingers touching old scar tissue.

“What happened?”

“I missed.” 

He was going to roll back on his back but he felt her sleek body tuck in behind him. Her arm wrapped around his middle, and the pad of her thumb swept up and down on his side. The shift of her body had him rolling towards her. There was a comfort to feeling her so close, he found himself continuing to explain.

“It was a cougar. Have you ever seen one?”

“Not up close.”

“They are beautiful. Their pelt is sorta like your hair.”

“My hair?” She shifted behind him. He could only assume she was turning to look at her locks. “What about it?”

“Gold, every shade of it. She was just laying down, stretched out on this great big rock. You could tell she had eaten recently; there was a bit of blood on her mouth. It should have been creepy, but it wasn’t. Like on a person it would have been creepy, but on her it just belonged. Dad led me up there and put the gun in my hands. I didn’t expect to shoot anything that day, not really. I hadn’t been quiet enough before to sneak up on anything.”

“You? Loud?” she teased. Her lips brushed over his skin as she talked.

“Clumsy, too.” He wrapped his arm over hers. “But yeah, I hated the idea of shooting her. I mean, we weren’t going to eat her like we did the buck.”

“You can eat cougar,” she said. “It just doesn’t taste very good.”

“Have you had cougar?” he asked, tilting his head so he could see her face over his shoulder.

She was smirking at him. “No, I have not. But I can tell you that pretty much every animal can be eaten. We just don’t eat certain ones.”

“Why?” he asked, legitimately interested. “Taste?”

“Partially.” She tightened her arm around his middle, her fingers splayed over his skin. “But there is more to it than that. We eat animals that can be domesticated and fattened up, more often than not. It’s really hard to cage a cougar.”

“No shit.” He stretched his legs and rolled over unto his back. She stayed close to him, half wrapped over him. He felt the hot press of her sex against his leg. He was going to do something about it when the dog shifted his bulk between Kellan’s legs, pinning them both. “But the long and short of it is that I couldn’t shoot her. I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong. We were just going to kill her and hang her up and I wasn’t for it. My dad didn’t like it.”

“He cut you because you wouldn’t kill something?” She sounded shocked.

“Not exactly, he threw rocks at me. I was clumsy but quick, so only two hit. That’s the one that took me down.”

She hugged him as much as their current position would allow, and he let her. It was strange. Kellan didn’t talk about himself like this. She had a way of getting it out of him. There was something about the gentle kisses she laid on his skin, rather than the typical ‘oh, you poor thing’ some people gave.

He turned his head and she kissed him. It started off light, almost friendly, the way a girl might kiss anyone who had a bad day. Then her tongue darted between his lips. She stirred, the dog moved, and she crawled into his lap.

“All right,” she said softly, tugging the hemline of the shirt up. “How about we set aside father issues for a while?”

“Well,” he licked his lips as she exposed the naked mounds of her breasts, “if you insist.”

It was, quite possibly, the best marathon ever.

# # #

“Dude, you are crazy.” Rudy bent over the open hood of a customer’s Cadillac. His ruddy face had a smear of grease on the cheek. The shop was full of work today, and most of the guys were bouncing around between jobs.

“What are you talking about?”

“That.” Rudy motioned with the torque wrench in the general direction of the shop’s office.

Through the blinds, the two of them could see Emma and Hannah chatting and smiling at customers. She was good at the business side of things.

“What about it?”

“All right, you aren’t just crazy, you’re stupid, too.” Rudy switched out tools and continued his work.

Kellan snorted. “Man, are you going to make sense anytime soon or are you just going to keep calling me names?”

“You said when this all started that it was just to keep her safe.”

Kellan shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “Yeah, so?”

“Falling for her is a safe thing?”

“Man, I’m not falling for her. She’s just…I dunno.”

Rudy rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“You got something to say?”

Rudy stood up. “I got plenty to say. Are you going to listen?”

“Spit it out.”

“That girl has been in love with you since she was fifteen years old. I expect her to get all stupid over you. Hell, she deserves to get all stupid over you. I was hoping she’d do it when she was sixteen or seventeen so she could get you out of her system and move on with her damn life.”

Kellan watched her through the blinds. She looked good today, even standing next to someone as primped as Han. There were some chicks who took hours to make themselves look as put together as Emma looked when she threw her hair into a ponytail and wiggled into some jeans. He liked the way she wiggled.

“You angry it’s happening now?”

“Yeah, man, I am.”

There was something in his tone that had Kellan looking back at him. “Are you jealous, Rudy?”

Rudy shook his head, and changed tools, popping an old spark plug out of the car and looking at it. They saw the tops, worn down to nearly nothing, coating in dark muck, both of them knew it was fried. “Not the way you think. I dunno, back in high school I might have been. I didn’t just take her to prom because she was my friend. But that’s not it now. Emma, she’s different. She’s smart, but a lot of people are smart, but here’s the thing. Most smart people? They get all bitter and jaded about the world because they know too much about too much shit.”

“Not Emma.” Kellan found himself defending her. He handed over the shiny new plug.

“Not Emma,” Rudy agreed, shoving the new piece into place. “She’s got this great big heart and all this love to give. Yeah, she hides it behind all her book-smarts, but you see it every time she pets that ugly ass dog of yours, or laughs with Hannah, or whatever. She’s this bright ray of sunshine and good will and you…well, fuck me, Kellan, you aren’t.”

“Fuck.” Kellan bent over the engine with Rudy. He wanted to be mad, and deep down there was a part of him that was, but the fact of the matter was that Rudy was right. “I can’t just drop her.”

“It’s pretty damn funny to me that you think dropping her is going to stop what you are feeling.”

“I thought we were talking about Emma.”

“We are, and you are involved. I mean, aren’t you the one screwing that great big smile on her face?”

Kellan couldn’t quite keep the grin off his mouth when he said, “Yeah, I am.”

“So you gonna be able to dump her when this is all said and done? Are you going to be able to walk away from all that?”

“Of course,” Kellan said. Even to him the tone sounded uncertain. “I dunno. The sex is good.”

“Whatever, man. A guy doesn’t look at a woman the way you are looking at Emma because the lay is good.”

The sound of a torque wrench tightening things into place interrupted their conversation. It gave Kellan a moment to consider what Rudy was saying. He wanted to say it was wrong, but he knew better. What could he offer Emma? A hard life in the critical eye of the law? For now, he could give her safety, protection from Gabriel and his screwed up brother, but what about when all of this was over? What could he offer her then? Nothing, not a damned thing.

He looked up and saw her looking at him. Her big blue eyes were so full of life and happiness. She hadn’t looked that way since she got back. Her smile brightened a few degrees when their eyes met and he found himself smiling back. She gave a little wave and he nodded in response.

It hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Shit.”

“You know what you gotta do,” Rudy said

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

# # #

“Well?” Hannah asked when there was a lull in customers. “How is it going?”

Emma felt a tingle run from the tips of her fingers down to her toes. Her mouth was grinning so hard it nearly hurt. “Good.”

“Good?” Hannah asked, eyeing Emma with a discerning gaze honed by having children. “Oh, sweetie, that is not the face of good. That is the face of a woman who has seen God.”

“So many times.” Emma sighed blissfully. She laughed and shook her head, and organized a pile of receipts from the day into a single pile, separating them from yesterday’s. It felt good to be doing something useful. Sitting at home was great for a break, but after the first week it had pretty much been torture. They were filling in while Kellan was off doing a different kind of business. Emma didn’t know what, and she wasn’t entirely sure she needed to. “God, that sounds so cheesy.”

Hannah shrugged one tanned shoulder and waved a flippant hand. “Sweetie, that’s all love is. It’s wine and cheese and not a whole lot else.”

“Wine and cheese?” Emma snorted. “Wow, you must not think much of love.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s, like, the perfect comparison.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hannah sighed and filed away the pile of paperwork for Joe to look at later. She spun back to Emma with a hand on her hip. “Okay, so, some days, especially in the beginning, love is really easy. It’s like bubbly moscato and slices of sharp cheddar. Crisp and happy and feels good but isn’t exactly the top shelf.”

Emma leaned against the office desk, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Over the weeks she had learned it was Hannah’s lot in life to give out advice, even when it wasn’t particularly wanted.  “Okay…”

“No, really. Hear me out. You wanna Coke?” She snatched up her purse and pulled out a roll of twenties.

“Holy crap.” Emma blinked as her friend pulled a single bill out of the large stack. “Business must be good.”

“Oh, business is great, but this?” She waved the money around. “This comes from having a man in the club. You know what they say, crime pays.”

But is it worth it? Emma wanted to ask. Was it worth it knowing he could go out and get shot? That he could die because another group of like-minded people wanted to come in and take over the illegitimate businesses and make sure it was their illegal merchandise that was getting sold? She glanced away from Hannah and back towards Kellan, whose dark hair was pulled back by a red bandanna. Had she ever seen him with his face completely relieved of hair?

“Coke?” Hannah offered again.

“Dr. Pepper if they have it.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Hannah popped the bill into the machine and punched in their orders. “What was I saying?”

“Bubbly moscato and sharp cheddar.”

“Right! Okay, so that’s just the beginning, right? All that tasty happy going on. It’s good stuff and it can make you put on some pounds, but it’s not really perfect. Perfect comes later. It comes with a little work and a little time.”

“Like cheese and wine.” Hannah twisted the top off of her drink and took a long drink.

“See, now you are getting it. Don’t get me wrong, some days it’s Kraft singles and that cheap boxed shit. You’ll eat it because you gotta, but you don’t really like it.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly philosophical.” Emma glanced up and watched as Kellan worked alongside Rudy. A wave of tranquility washed through her. It felt good to see him, to feel comfortable in a space that was designated as his.

“I dunno, you think about this kind of stuff when your little one is crying at three in the morning.” Hannah held up the bottle. “Which is when you wish you could IV this stuff.”

“How is the little one?”

Hannah turned into an effervescent mommy as she pulled out her cell to show a bunch of pictures of the kids. Emma felt the itch of friendly jealousy spark inside her belly. It wasn’t the angry kind of jealousy that turned best friends into worst enemies, but the gentler kind that made Emma yearn for something she didn’t have.

She’d always wanted a family. Perhaps it was unpopular now, but Emma wanted to have the job, the husband, and the house with the picket fence. Maybe it was all those years she’d gone without one, or maybe it was a socially constructed impossibility. She didn’t know, and right now, seeing Hannah light up like a New Year’s chandelier, she didn’t really care.

“What is it, Emma?” Hannah put her hand on her arm. The fingers were gentle.

“Hmm?” Emma realized that Hannah had been asking her something. “I’m sorry, my mind drifted.”

“To what?” Her big brown eyes were filled with mischief.

“Babies.”

Hannah gave a little squeak. The playful gleam turned into something commiserating. “Oh my god, Emma, Are you pregnant?”

“What? No, of course not. We literally just started having sex, like, two weeks ago.”

Hannah snorted and slid her phone back into her purse. “Honey, two weeks is really all it takes, but hey, none of my business until you make it my business. Are you making it my business?”

Emma blushed and admitted, “A little.”

“All right, you are going to have to explain what you mean by that.”

Emma sighed and dragged a hand down her face. This kind of thing was easier to think about than talk about. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. He’s got all these issues where relationships are concerned. And I know that we’ve talked about this already but every day I feel more and more like this is a real relationship. I made him breakfast this morning, I didn’t even have to ask how he wanted his toast or coffee.”

“That’s the stuff right there.” Hannah nodded, making her ponytail dance. “So what are you going to do?”

“What can I do?”

A kind arm slung around Emma’s shoulders. “You could tell him. I mean, I know, I know, communication and blah, blah, blah. But you have to let him know where you stand, and what you want, or everyone is just going to end up hurt.”

“You are an awesome friend, but sometimes I think you are crazy.”

“Both can be true.” Hannah smirked. “Hey, listen, Rudy and I were going to go do dinner and dancing tonight. I got a sitter and everything. Why don’t you two join us?”

“Like a double date?”

“Well, no. I mean, a couple of the guys from the club are going to be there, some are bringing dates, so it’s kind of a group thing.”

“Is Samantha going?” Emma asked. She didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it came out that way anyway.

“Oof, that was mean. Did something happen?”

“Not really.” Emma drank the last of her soda and deposited the bottle in the bin. “I mean, she calls him whenever she has an excuse, and texts him all the time. Like, I get it, she wants him. I can’t blame her for wanting him, but I can blame her for going after someone who isn’t reciprocating. That kind of thing bothers me.”

“No shit.” Hannah laughed.

“No really, I mean, okay, here’s the thing. If it were a guy doing that to a girl, would people just shrug it off?”

“Well, the difference here, hon, is that the guy is armed.”

“Maybe I should just be nice to her.”

“Emma, sweetie, did you hit your head?” Hannah plucked at Emma’s hair in a dramatic effort to find an invisible wound. “I think you just said we should be nice to the woman who is trying to steal your man.”

“He’s not my man,” Emma corrected. She sighed and plopped herself down in the office chair. The sun was coming in the window, turning the whole office a pale orange. She could see dust motes dancing in the air. “Maybe she’s lonely. A lot of girls seek out male attention because they feel unwanted by their female peers.”

“Jeez, how many college classes did you take?”

“Too many.” Emma laughed.

“You know you sound like a textbook half the time?”

“I was a lonely kid. Books and animals, that’s what kept me going.” Emma smirked.

“When are you gonna get the money from your dad’s stuff?”

“Lawyers are still processing stuff, but it’ll clear up before I go back to school.”

“More textbooks.” Hannah butted her shoulder against Emma’s and the two women shared a companionable laugh.

Emma couldn’t say anything to that because the owner of the Cadillac came waltzing up in her four-inch heels and a brand new hairdo.

“Hi, Samantha!” Emma smiled, doing her best to make it look sincere. “How are you today?”

Samantha ran a hand through her perfect hair. It fell into place in just the right way. “Fine.”

Emma and Hannah exchanged a look. Hannah gave a tiny shake of her head. “Hey, Samantha, listen, Hannah and I were—”

“Is my car ready?” Samantha interrupted.

“I…” Emma glanced out the door. “I don’t know, I’ll have to—”

“Never mind, I’ll just go ask myself.”

Samantha waltzed through the door before Emma could say anything else. Emma watched through the blinds as half the guys in the auto shop stopped working so they could watch those long, long legs saunter through their work zone.

“You need to cut her.”

“Violence is a terrible way to get a point across.”

“You heard me, that girl needs to get cut down a few inches. Look at her, waltzing in here like she owns the place and everything in it. Perfect little princess.”

Samantha paused in front of her Cadillac, fixing a big bright smile on her sculpted face. Emma couldn’t hear what she said but it had Kellan glancing up and smiling.

“See that?” Hannah said.

“Yeah,” Emma said softly, “I see.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Emma admitted. “And there is nothing to do. I know, I know. I should walk in there and claim my territory or whatever it was you said, and maybe you are right. But, Han, that’s not me. I didn’t want to play those kinds of games when I was in school, and I am certainly not going to play them now.  If Kellan wants her, he’s going to have her.”

The sound that Hannah made was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “That’s a piss-poor way of backing out.”

“I’m not backing out. I don’t want to fight for something that isn’t even really mine in the first place.”

Emma watched the perfect woman wrap an arm around Kellan’s shoulders. For a moment, just a moment, she thought she saw him pull away. Her heart gave a leap. Then he settled back against her and her exultation sank down to her knees.

# # #

“Hey, you okay?” Kellan asked that night over dinner.

In the end, Emma had decided not to bring up going out with the group. She hadn’t wanted to be around people anymore. Instead, she and Kellan had picked up pizza on the way home as Emma no longer felt hungry. She stared down at her single slice of olive and sausage and felt no inclination to take more than a bite.

“You been pretty quiet.”

“Yeah,” she lied. “I’m fine.”

He glanced down at her untouched food and then back at her. “All right. I guess Rocco is going to eat well tonight.”

The dog, hearing his name, wandered over and plopped a hopeful butt down on the linoleum. The sound of his tail sweeping back and forth in gluttonous anticipation was audible. Emma tore off a piece of crust and tossed it to the mutt. She knew it wasn’t the best practice to feed a dog from your own plate, but she couldn’t help herself. At least the dog got to be happy.

“Saturday is Phantom’s birthday. We were thinking of doing a party.”

“How old is Phantom?” she asked. She didn’t much want to say yes or no; neither option held any appeal. Then again, Phantom had rescued her from a potential kidnapping, so she certainly didn’t want to snub him.

“Nineteen, he’ll be twenty.”

She shook her head. How young was too young to break the law? She glanced over at Kellan, who had been involved with her father’s “work” for years and decided not to ask. “Where did you guys find him?”

“We didn’t,” Kellan said. He took a healthy bite of his own slice and chased it with the neck portion of his beer. “He found us. See, a few years ago your dad got pissed. He thought someone was stealing food from the shop. Nothing big or anything just packages of chips, a couple of sodas, you know, stuff like that.”

She tore another piece of her crust off and handed it to a waiting Rocco. “It was Phantom?”

“Yup. Your dad got so mad that he put one of those secret camera things in. We all went out of our minds when we saw this scrawny little kid sneaking in through a window. He moved like some kind of acrobat. It was nuts. He snuck in, grabbed some food and left. He left nothing behind, not even a dirty footprint.”

“Was he homeless?”

“Turns out he was. Some runaway foster kid. I don’t know. Vinny took a liking to him, brought him home and washed him up. The kid almost never talks.”

She remembered the single sentence she had heard he had helped rescue her. “I noticed something of the sort. I guess Phantom isn’t his name.”

“No, I think it’s  Taylor or Travis or something that sounds like it belongs to a cowboy.”

“Phantom suits him better.”

“It’s all he answers to now. Vinny gave him the name.”

She nodded and picked up her slice of pizza. She gave it a little nibble. “I remember Vinny from when I was younger. He’s a good guy.”

Kellan nodded. “He is. Loyal, too. It was him who dragged your dad to the doctor when he realized something was wrong.” He finished his slice of pizza and reached for a second. “How about we go sit in front to the television and watch a movie. That’ll get your mind off of whatever this is.” He motioned to her barely touched food.

They did. It was easy, so easy, to just curl up with him and disappear into a movie. At some point she did eat, and later she found herself curled into his arm. She could almost forget this wasn’t real, that it was all temporary.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” Emma shoved herself off the couch as the credits rolled.

A hand, tattooed and callused, wrapped around her wrist. “Emma, you don’t have to talk with me. I mean, I am not going to beat it out of you or anything like that, but if something is wrong—”

“Are you sleeping with Samantha?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. They were stupid, and she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to stop them from happening.

“What?” He dropped her wrist.

She shook her head and held up her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, forget I said anything. I don’t even know where it came from. I don’t think I’m feeling very good tonight.”

He stood up. “I’m pretty sure I’ve made what’s between Samantha and me pretty clear. I’ve told you I’m not sleeping with her, and even if you and I weren’t doing whatever it is we are doing, I still wouldn’t be sleeping with her.”

“What are we doing, Kellan?” she asked. “I mean, honestly, what is this? I don’t…I don’t think it’s normal.”

He took a step towards her, and even Emma could see he was barely holding onto himself. “What isn’t normal about it?”

“I want you to touch me. I want to touch you.”

“Seems pretty normal where I’m standing.”

She shook her head once, hard enough to make her head spin. “The hell it is. I’ve touched guys. I’ve had them touch me. From time to time it’s been all right, but this….this isn’t that. I wake up and the first thing I look for is you. I kiss you and it’s like I’m breathing for the first time. And when you are inside of me, I feel alive. It’s just…it’s just ridiculous.”

He grabbed her and pulled her to him. She was buried against his chest, surrounded by the scent of him. She let herself sink against it.

“I don’t know what to do.”

He put a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. His kiss was like butterfly wings on her lips. His tongue brushed along her lower lip, caressing ever so lightly, an invitation to be let in. She welcomed it.

Her arms slithered around his neck as her toes lifted her up. It took only the press of his body against hers to have her blood humming inside of her skin.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

He swept her up and, rather than taking the left and going into her room, he went right and took her into his.

# # #

She looked like a goddess who had gotten lost on the way to somewhere important and landed in his bed. All that golden hair haloed out on the dark blue of his pillow. Blankets were bunched up around her as her bare feet kicked them out of her way.

“Touch me, Kellan,” she begged, opening her arms to him.

He was going to, by God, he was going to touch her everywhere she’d let him. Her jeans were better than all the expensive panties that high price stores could toss at him as he popped the button and slid the zipper down.

She was wearing simple white cotton today, and it drove him crazy. He’d seen all kinds of women in all kinds of frippery, but nothing made him go quite so wild as Emma the Brain in white cotton panties.

Emma was right, he realized, this was ridiculous. It was insane. The scent of her as he slid the fabric down her thighs drove him wild. He didn’t know if he wanted to possess her or roll over and let her possess him; the truth was probably somewhere in the middle.

It was easier to get her shirt off. She’d taken her bra off at some point, he didn’t know when, but his eyes fell on the softness of her breasts and he knew he was done for.

She fell back against the mattress and spread her arms out like she’d make a snow angel out of his sheets. Her long legs were stretched out, showing off the curves she got from walking the dog every damned time he barked. They were good curves. He bent and laid a kiss in the inside of her knee, tasting her skin there. “You’ve got great legs for a nerdy chick.”

She rolled her eyes and poked his shoulder with her big toe. “How do you think nerdy chicks are supposed to look?”

He ran his tongue along the inside of her thigh and felt the skin twitch. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know they ought to taste like you.”

He let himself get lost in the feel of her against his lips. The creamy satin of her thighs, the softness of her belly. He took his time when he got to the full underside of one breast, and again when he took the rough peak of her nipple between his lips.

She made the most delicious sounds. He never had to wonder if she was enjoying herself. It was all breathy moans and hungry sighs. Every time he laid his hands on her she rose to greet them. He’d never had a woman respond to him so willingly.

When he slid into her, he knew he was done for.

When she had fallen asleep, curled into a protective ball around a happy dog, Kellan decided he had to do something.

“Yeah, no, I’ll be there in a minute.” He ended the phone call.

“Who was that?”

“Samantha,” he lied.

“Oh, you are going to meet her?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. He had fully intended for her to be angry. He had grown used to the way she could snap at people. The wildfire of her. Instead, her voice sounded soft, almost broken.

“Yeah, I mean, you are done with me, right?”

“What?”

He shrugged into his leather vest; it felt heavier today than it should. “I mean, you said it was just about relaxing. You seem pretty relaxed to me.”

“Are you kidding?” she demanded. “I mean, yeah, I said that—”

“And you say what you mean, right? That’s what you told me. You don’t play those kinds of games. You were pretty sure about it.”

“That’s so not fair. We’ve been…I thought—”

“You thought what?” He kept his voice low and even. He could see every word hurt her, slapped at her. Something inside him broke to do it. “You thought it was special? That you were special? Emma, I am not going to lie. You are hot, and you were a sweet little honey pot, but it wasn’t anything more than that.”

“Liar!” She flicked the stove top off, leaving the eggs sizzling in a cooling pan. “You are a liar. I am not stupid. I know it wasn’t…that what happened was…different.”

He laughed, and even to his earls it was cruel. “Different? Please. I mean, you were sweet, but you were a little…I dunno…naïve.”

“Naïve?” she demanded. “What? This wasn’t just one night, Kellan. This was weeks. This was something else. I don’t know what you are doing here. I don’t know if you are so damn scared of being in a relationship that you are pulling away. You are, aren’t you? You are being deliberately cruel.”

“Am I smart enough for that?”

“Yes,” she snapped back, pushing past him and into the room beyond. She hadn’t spent much time in it since their first night together. God, he’d been living with her, really living with her. “You are great with handling people, and you are trying to handle me. Right here and right now.”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you care?” she demanded. “If you are going to Samantha, it is actually over, isn’t it? It shouldn’t matter where I am going. I mean, you don’t care, right?”

“I am supposed to protect you.”

“Then why are you hurting me?” She opened one of her drawers and deposited the contents in a bag. It wasn’t her typically neat and orderly packing. “Why are you doing this?”

Her shoulders were shaking. He wanted to go to her and that made him angry. She needed to understand that this wasn’t serious, this was temporary. Emma deserved better.

“I told you what this was, from day one I told you. It’s not my fault you got caught up.”

“I didn’t just get caught up, Kellan. I love you.”

“What?”

She whirled on him. Her eyes were like glass. “You heard me, damn you. I love you. I don’t know when it started or how it started or even why but I love you. I love how you lead people, how you keep them all at arm’s length, but you are there if you need them. I love that you took care of my dad. I love that you named your ugly dog Rocco. I love so many things about you and you are an idiot, a goddamned idiot if you pretend otherwise.”

He couldn’t say anything, so he didn’t. His throat was tight, and his skin felt too hot. It itched like the lie was infecting him. He clamped his fists and waited for the feeling to pass. She continued to glare at him, this small woman filled with so much passion. She was an intoxication.

“I’m going to go to Samantha’s. I’m going to fuck her. If you wanna keep saying you love me after that, I’m not the idiot.”

He turned on her and left. The last thing he heard was a desperate sob, but it didn’t drown out the sound of his own heart breaking.

Chapter 12

“He said what?” Hannah pushed another glass of wine into Emma’s hands. It was a dark liquid, smelling vaguely like apples, or spice, or something vaguely sinful. Emma took a long sip of it, letting the flavor linger on her tongue. The taste of the wine matched Hannah’s living room. The space was all decorated with rich dark woods and elegant prints of artwork. It seemed to match her friend, and not.

“Before or after he said he was going to sleep with Samantha?” Emma curled on the lush sofa. A comfortable pillow was snuggled up against her back. A soft throw blanket was curled over her legs. Everything around her was comfortable. Everything inside felt broken.

A soft clink of Hannah’s wedding ring tapping glass drew Emma’s attention to her own blank finger. She sighed softy. Maybe it had all been some stupid fantasy, a dream she was never meant to realize.

“Oh, honey.” Hannah reached across the space between them with her ringless hand and clutched Emma’s. “That sucks.”  Hannah’s hair was coiled around sponge curlers. The wet locks smelled of some sort of chemical, the kind a woman used when she wanted to give her locks an extra bit of oompf. It wasn’t a bad smell, but it was strong. 

“Were you getting ready to go somewhere?” Emma asked. She took another long sip of wine.

“Rudy and I were going to try to do date night.”

Emma suddenly felt guilty. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Hannah. I’ll leave you be. I shouldn’t have come over I just—”

“Now you sit down right there,” Hannah commanded. Her big eyes were filled with concern. It nearly broke Emma’s heart. “Rudy and I both care about you, Emma. You know that.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m going to sound like my mother when I say no buts, but I’m going to say it anyway. No buts. No nothing. My friend is having a crap night, and if that means I have to put off a date to help make her feel a little better, I’m going to.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Emma smiled.

“Well, as much as I’d like to blame it all on you, that man you are angry with started it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he called about ten minutes before you did, told Rudy to meet him at The Saloon.”

Emma felt her heart do a confused clench. He hadn’t gone to Samantha’s? Was he going there later? Or just not at all? Why was he being so mean?

“I don’t understand.” Emma looked into her wineglass. Her morose face stared back at her. Was she such a terrible woman that a man like him would be deliberately mean so he didn’t have to see her anymore?

“Don’t you?” Hannah asked gently. Her voice was filled with maternal affection. “He’s pushing you away.”

“I managed to figure that out, thanks.”

“Not because he doesn’t care, sweetie. He cares too much.” Hannah took another hefty drink and then set her glass aside. “He’s being all kinds of uppity because he’s afraid of ruining things on accident.”

“So, what? He’s doing it on purpose.”

“Yes.” Hannah laughed. “He’s the kind of guy who likes to be in control of pretty much everything.”

“Usually,” Emma admitted. Her mind flashed back to a few choice moments during their more sensual moments. “He doesn’t always need to be in control.”

Hannah made a lascivious sound. “Oh really? Do tell.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now.”

Hannah shrugged her shoulder. “Yes, you do. It helps.”

Emma rolled her eyes. It sounded like the biggest load of…well…she had ever heard. “Talking about the sex I am not going to be having anymore is somehow supposed to help?”

“You know nothing about breaking up with someone, do you?”

Emma blinked. It was true. She didn’t. The closest she had ever come to a boyfriend growing up had been Rudy, and that relationship had been fairly awkward from beginning to end. It had been a blessing when it ended. There had been several very short dating stints after him, but school had always come first, and nothing had really started, let alone ended.

“Oh god,” Emma gasped. Anger and sadness and fear surged up inside of her chest. Her hand started to shake. “I haven’t. I’ve never been in a real relationship. This wasn’t supposed to be real either. It was just supposed to happen and then everything got all…oh god.”

The shaking got worse. Droplets of wine splashed over the rim. Hannah took the glass from her. Emma dragged the blanket up her chest. It offered warmth, but no comfort. She clutched the edge of the fabric until her knuckles turned white.

“He broke up with me.”

Hannah wrapped an arm over her and pulled Emma down until her head was resting in Hannah’s lap. With the gentle care of a mother Hannah tugged the golden hair out of a slap-dash tail and spread the locks out. She combed her fingers through Emma’s hair and shushed her gently.

The kindness broke her. She started to cry. Her tears were bright and hot. They spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks so fast they almost hurt. She curled her legs up on the sofa and tightened herself into a ball.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Hannah shushed.

“It’s not,” Emma sobbed, “it’s not okay at all!”

“It will be. I promise.”

Emma didn’t believe her. She wanted to. It was a nice thought that in a little time, and with a little effort, she might feel better. It seemed, at this moment, impossible. Her heart felt like it was breaking into a hundred pieces, each one smaller than the last. They all ached.

“It hurts,” she whispered, not sure if she was telling Hannah or herself.

“I know.”

The sound of a baby crying came out through the monitor. Emma sat up.

“Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Emma drew her legs up on the couch and rested her head against the arm. Her bones felt too heavy inside of her body, as if she suddenly weighed too much to sit up on her own. When Hannah came back she was holding her little one. The child’s face was red and puffed up with a hard wake up.

“Oh gosh, look at you, sleepy face.” Emma smiled sadly as the baby flopped its head against his mother’s shoulder.

“Do you want to hold her?” Hannah asked, offering up the squirming child.

Emma had to think about it. She liked children, though she wasn’t particularly familiar with them. She had no siblings and no cousins. There hadn’t been a lot of children wandering around the college campus either. Even so, the idea of holding something so small made her feel a little better.

“Yes, yes, I do.” Emma held out her arms.

Hannah tenderly deposited the child into her arms. The little one felt heavier than she would have thought. There was so much weight in such a small amount of space.

The baby looked up, the sleepiness sliding away from a pair of eyes as dark and vibrant as the mother’s. There was a definite touch of Rudy, too, around the nose and the way the ears stuck out. “There we go,” Hannah said.

Emma felt a small smile touch her lips. “Did you always know you wanted to be a mother?”

Hannah shrugged. “Not really. It was more of the idea that if I got pregnant, I’d be okay with it. If I didn’t, I’d be all right with that, too.” There was a short pause before Hannah asked, “Do you want to be a mother?”

“I do,” Emma said simply. “I know, we talked about it a little, but I never got to have a mother, never got any siblings. I always wanted the American dream. The house with the picket fence, the two point five kids, the dogs, the respected job I did in between carting the kids to and from soccer practice.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Hannah stood up and refilled the glasses. She pushed one into Emma’s hand.

“Socially speaking, there is everything wrong with it.” Emma took a sip and adjusted the baby to lie on her lap rather than in her arm. “Last year there was an unprecedented amount of women going to the emergency room for heart attacks because they stressed themselves out over the ‘having it all’ attitude.”

Hannah burst out into an amused laugh. “Sweetie, if you ever go to the ER, it will definitely be because of stress.”

Emma laughed, and though her heart was in pieces, she felt a little lighter.

“So, what are you going to do?” Hannah asked.

“Well, as it stands right now, I plan on finishing this glass of wine and snuggling the baby.” Emma raised her glass and clinked it merrily against her friend’s.

“And then?” Hannah ran her thumb over the soft foot of the little one.

“Then I am going to stay at my dad’s house for a few nights and figure everything else out.”

# # #

“You’re an idiot,” Leon leaned over The Saloon’s bar, pouring out a beer with the perfect amount of misty foam at the top. “A grade A one at that.”

“People keep calling me that, it’s getting damned annoying.” Kellan took the beer and drank it. It didn’t taste as good as it should. She tasted like beer that night after the steakhouse. She had tasted like beer and wildness, and even then she’d told him no. It meant something to him, but he didn’t know exactly what. “Why am I an idiot?”

“You let her go.” Joe slipped into the chair next to him. He shrugged his shoulders. “No, you pushed her away, broke her.”

“How do y’all even know this?” Kellan demanded.

“Hannah,” Rudy offered, pouring himself a beer. “Emma called her. You know women.”

“I know women,” Vinny offered. “I’ve had four wives, I know a lot about women. Trust me. You did the right thing, the best thing.” He lifted his drink in a liquid salute, a few drops of amber splashing along his wrist.  

“Shit.” Kellan slapped the beer, now half empty, back on the table. The liquid sloshed over the edge and onto the bar. “Why do they have to talk about things?”

“It’s what women do. Why don’t you try it?” Joe offered. He swept a bar rag over the spills and tossed it back into the wash bin. “It’s therapeutic.”

“Fuck that,” Vinny chimed in, shaking his grizzly head so hard his stiff beard swished from one side to the other. “Get drunk, buy some company, bury yourself in some really big…” He held his hands out in front of his chest and jostled invisible breasts.

The others laughed, or cheered, or, in the case of Phantom, said nothing at all. Kellan took his drink in hand. He tried to think about finding another woman but all he could picture was Emma, laid out on his sheets like an offering, her arms raised in enthusiastic surrender.

“What do you want me to say? She was getting close, too close.” He shook his head. “I told her not to.”

“Since when do women listen to what you tell them?” Vinny demanded.

“They don’t when you talk.” Leon slapped the other man on the back. “No one listens when you talk, old man.”

Vinny shrugged good-naturedly and took another drink.

Leon came around the bar, his big boots stomping as he made his way across the aged wood. For a moment, Kellan could do nothing but admire that Leon had been here the longest. Vinny was older, he was nearing sixty, but could still ride. He had come to the club late. Somewhere after he had lost one wife and before he’d found the second Vinny had wandered in like a lost dog looking for a pack.

Leon, though, had been around even before Mac had. The patch on his jacket stated Founder, and marked him as one of the first members of the club. Mac’s had read Second Generation. There was a time, maybe twenty years before, when Leon could have been president, but he hadn’t wanted it. He liked being the secretary, keeping track of everything. It was Leon’s way to remember and catalog.

“I’ve known that girl since she was born. Hell, her momma and my wife took those Lamaze classes together. She barely cried, did you know that? Barely a peep. Doctors were worried at first, worried she might have something wrong up here.” Leon motioned to his head with one age spotted hand. The bar stool whispered as he settled himself on it.

“There is nothing wrong with that girl’s brain,” Joe snorted.

Leon nodded his agreement, “Damn right. Smart as a whip.”

“She deserves better,” Kellan said flatly.

Rudy nodded. “She’s had dreams. Ever since she was little she’s had dreams of a good life away from all this.” He motioned around to the clubhouse until the dramatic gesture landed on the long Beasts’ tapestry that hung behind the bar.

Leon rolled his eyes. “Y’all idiots don’t know shit.”

“Don’t be shy, Leon. Tell us how you feel.” Joe slid another drink to the man.

There was general laughter and more liquor. There was always more liquor. Someone had the frame of mine to pull out a bucket of peanuts.

“So everyone agrees Emma is smart.” There was a general mummer of agreement. Leon nodded his head and cracked a peanut between his fingers. Bits of shell fell against the bar. “Good, then why the hell don’t you think she is smart enough to decide who she wants to be with?”

Silence, thick and heavy, fell around the room. The only sound was Phantom, sweeping up peanut shells from the floor.

“Barbie,” Joe said after a moment.

“What?” Kellan asked. “Did you just go crazy, Joe?”

“Barbie, well, Barbara. I know, the irony of naming is not lost on me, but it worked. Her name was Barbara Lawrence and she was everything.” He stood up and opened the trash lid for Phantom to deposit the dustpan full of shells. “She looked how Barbie ought to look, with long legs and blonde hair and the kind of rack Vinny would appreciate.”

“Here! Here!” Vinny cheered. “God bless excellent racks!”

“Amen, brother.” Leon clinked his glass to Vinny’s cheerfully.

“True, indeed,” Joe said with a wistful sigh. “On top of that she was wealthy, heiress wealthy, and magnanimous to boot. We had plans. We were going to go to Africa and save the world. Some Brad and Angelina daydream, I assume. We were young; she was perfect. But I, like many a twenty-year-old boy, was stupid.”

“What did you do?” Kellan asked, his curiosity piqued. 

“I may have taken a swanky brunette to my bed while under the influence of a generous amount of Jim Beam.” Joe bowed his head.

“Are you comparing sticking your dick into some brunette to Kellan’s stupidity?”

“I am,” Joe said, “and here is why. We all have a Barbie in our lives.”

“Don’t I wish,” Viv muttered.

“We all have a Barbie,” Joe continued. “That woman very well might have made the difference between who we are and who we could have been.”

There was a moment of silence. Kellan could only guess that all of them were thinking of their own Barbie. Was that what Emma was? Could she be the difference between what he was and who he could be? He thought of the way she smiled at him, and the way she felt lying on his shoulder. She was a good woman, a good person.

The door opened and the rest of the club poured in. Kellan cleared his throat and drank down the last of his beer.

“All right, men, settle in.” He let his voice carry across everyone. “Phantom and Rudy have done some good footwork. We’ve got a map of Gabriel’s compound.”

Rudy picked up a long tube of rolled paper. With a flick it unraveled and lay across the pool table like a tablecloth. It was a blueprint, with several large blank unmapped areas, mostly towards the inside.

“So Gabriel has dumped most of his drug money into his house. It’s like some Mexican villa sitting on top of this big ol’ mountain, just waiting for someone dumb enough to attack it. He’s got gates, guard dogs, shooters, state-of-the-art everything built to keep everyone out.”

“Should be a walk in the park,” Vinny snorted.

“Yeah,” Kellan said. “But Phantom found something.”

All eyes flicked to the skinny pale guy who looked half swallowed by his nearly empty vest. He stood there like a statue, letting them look before he went back to sweeping the floor.

“There’s a back way,” Rudy continued. He pulled out a second map, this one geological in nature, showing rings of elevation. A highlighter had drawn a line through a back path. “This was an old farm road, but it was nearly forgotten when the interstates bypassed it. Partly because the farthest point is collapsed. We can take the bikes most of the way up there, but there is going to be a pretty decent hike towards the end of the road and Gabriel’s place.”

“Gabriel isn’t expecting anyone to come up the back way, is he?”

“No,” Rudy said. “He thinks the southern side of his little compound is perfectly safe, backed it right up to the mountain. It’s pretty impressive and it’s not going to be easy.”

“Boy,” Vinny laughed, “we didn’t sign up for this to be easy. Now, what do you want to do?”

“Well, that’s going to be up to a club vote. Gabriel has targeted Emma specifically, and Mac before he died, so we figure a one to one strike is best. We take out Gabriel, we take out his piece of crap brother, and we let the rest of his little gang fall on themselves.”

“We aren’t afraid of a little reciprocity?” Joe asked.

“It’s personal. Most of the cartel knows working with us is better than against us. The Beasts make good protection and good transport. They don’t want to cause waves where they aren’t needed. This isn’t a gang on gang strike, but person to person.”

“All right, so what, we send up our best snipers? That’s gonna be you, and maybe Phantom.”

“Yeah,” Kellan stretched out his legs. Ignoring the sound of a glass breaking as the men resettled themselves. “Dad did love his hunting trips.”

“All right, so we are gonna…ow. What the hell?” Leon paused. His eyes narrowed and he reached behind himself. When he brought his hand back, the fingers were covered in blood. His face drained of color. The age spots on his hands stood out like coffee stains on copy paper. “Oh…shit.”

“Dad?” Rudy stood up, and his father fell to the ground. “Dad!”

It happened quickly after that. The door exploded open, and four men thick with Latin heritage burst into the bar and unloaded automatic weapons. Bullets rained down around them. Beasts dove, or reached for their own guns. It was admirable, but ultimately pointless.

In that first wave bodies crumpled to the floor. Kellan couldn’t keep track of who was down and who was fighting. All he could smell was blood and gunpowder.

His first thought went to Emma. Was she okay? Did Gabriel already have her? In the moment of hesitation that these thoughts fostered, a slug grazed his shoulder. Pain, sharp and hot, pulsed across his hip.

“Get down!” someone yelled at him.

Kellan took cover behind the heavy wooden pool table. Pieces of oak and green velvet peppered the air. The sound of men screaming was second only to the deafening burst of gunfire. Out of instinct, rather than thought, Kellan went for his own gun. The cold, heavy weight of the pistol was a small comfort in comparison to whatever it was Gabriel’s minions were wielding.

He would rather have had a rifle. He was good with a rifle. It was the one good thing his father had done. For a moment all he could think of was that cougar sunning herself on a rock, her big eyes blinking slowly.

He rolled to one side, his shoulder hitting the ground. He tried not to think about the fact that there was a puddle of dark blood beneath his shoulder as he aimed the gun and fired. The first bullet wasn’t intended for one of the shooters, it was for the fluorescent bulbs above them. The second was for the glass windows behind them. The shooters flinched as shards of glass fell down around them. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough that his men could return fire.

He leveled his gun again and took another shot. The gun jerked and he saw blood bloom on the shirt of one of the men. His eyes went wide enough behind the dark of his sunglasses that Kellan could see a flicker of white above the lenses. He shot again, and the man’s head rocked back. The shades flew in an arc, shattering against the broken window.

Wild cursing caught Kellan’s attention. He chanced a look to his left. Vinny had managed to get behind the bar where the best of the weapons were stock piled. His thick hands hefted a 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun. Blood was pouring down one side of his face, and glistening in the gray streak of his beard. The telltale sound of the pump seemed to echo through the din. The flash was like a firework. The boom of it rocked the room, and Kellan’s ears began to ring.

The second shooter flew backwards. Vinny fired again. His body, half off the ground, flopped backwards with a boneless grace. His body hit the ground, but his hand spasmed on the trigger, and a fresh wave of bullets split the air.

More glass shattered as the dead man’s gun decimated the bar. The thick scent of alcohol joined the musk of fire and death. Vinny’s body fell. Blood arced through the air, staining the bar.

The gun continued to fire until there were no more bullets. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it stretched like an eternity. Kellan wasn’t sure he was going to survive, that any of them were going to survive, but all he could think about was Emma.

Would she mourn him? Would she cry at his funeral the way she had at her father’s? No, probably not. She’d probably spit on his coffin for all the terrible things he had said to her. Leon had been right. Kellan was an idiot for pushing her away. He was never going to find someone like her again. Gabriel was going to get to her.

That thought rocked him. The edge of the pool table collapsed, and the shiny resin balls clattered next to him. The cool touch of them against his hand felt vaguely surreal. Could anything be cold in the heat of battle?

“Dad! Dad!”

The sound of Rudy’s voice was the first thing Kellan heard when the ringing in his ears subsided. Rudy dove next to Leon’s body.

There was a difference in the way a live body laid on the ground versus a dead one. There was more space with a live body, all those muscles working to keep a person in a rigid line. When someone was dead, well and truly dead, there was nothing holding them up. Nothing that kept every inch of the flesh from hitting the ground.

Kellan didn’t need to check to know Leon was dead. He wasn’t the only one.

Not many had survived the first round of shots, and even fewer had seen the fight all the way to the end. Vinny’s oversized form was found in a puddle of liquor, blood, and other bodily fluids. His face was slack, and his eyes had rolled back until all anyone could see was white.

“Shit,” Kellan cursed. “Joe.”

It seemed somehow more wrong to find Joe with his back against the wall, a pair of Barettas in his hands. Leon and Vinny had put in their time and had long since believed the life was going to claim them. Joe hadn’t. He was a business boy playing at being criminal. Kellan had always assumed he’d go crawling back to his wealthy dad or that heiress.

The wounds were clustered in his belly, and already there was a smell. Kellan knew enough about hunting to know when a person’s bowels had been hit. It wasn’t a good death, it was a long and lingering one where a man’s own waste slowly poisoned him.

“Kellan,” he coughed. Blood splattered onto his lips. “We get them?”

Kellan glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, buddy, we got them.”

Joe reached out one of his hands. Kellan took it. The grip was stronger than he expected. There weren’t even calluses under the layer of blood. “Good,” he nodded. “Very good.”

He shifted his shoulder. The gun in his other hand clattered to the ground. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet. It took more effort than it should have for Joe to open it, and shake a picture out of the folds. It was a woman, and Kellan didn’t need to see the back to know it was Barbie.

“Her address is on the back. Send her a letter for me. Tell her I’m sorry, sorry for everything.”

Kellan couldn’t speak. A lump had grown in his throat. He just nodded and tucked the picture into his pocket. “I can do that.”

“Don’t let her go,” Joe said. “Don’t you dare.”

They both knew Joe wasn’t talking about Barbie. His GQ cover boy face was set in stern lines. A sheen of gray was crawling up his neck. He coughed again. His stomach jerked with the movement and he shook.

“I need you to do me another favor.”

“You’re asking a lot for a prospect.” Kellan tried to keep his voice as light as possible. It didn’t work.

“Shoot me.”

At first Kellan thought that Joe was asking as a joke. It wasn’t until he started to laugh that he realized that Joe was being serious.

“Oh, man.” Kellan looked down. “I don’t—”

“What are you going to do, pres?” he asked motioning limply to his belly. “Take me to the hospital?”

“They might be able to—”

Joe let out a bark of laughter, empty of humor. It was empty of everything but fatalistic knowledge. “If you don’t, I will, and no one wants to see that.”

Joe dumped one of his guns into Kellan’s hand. It felt heavier than it should, as if it was made of something besides metal.

“Just not in the face.” Joe smirked.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

He wrapped his finger over the trigger and pointed it at Joe’s heart. His hand shook just a little as he took the shot. Joe jerked suddenly, nearly coming off the ground. His hand squeezed around Kellan’s. He felt his bones grate together as a death spasm rocked through the other man’s body. Then Joe fell back to the ground with a mortal plank. His legs shook as his body struggled to stay alive for just a few seconds longer.

He didn’t know how long he was staring at Joe’s dead body when a very pale hand tapped him on the shoulder. There was a lot of blood on Phantom’s shirt, but as far at Kellan could see none of it belonged to the boy. He stood there silently. The perfect soldier waiting for an order to act. 

“Who’s left?” Kellan asked.

“Rudy,” he said, “and me.”

Twenty minutes ago there were fifteen men in this room. Fifteen men who Kellan had laughed with, drank with, and partied with. Now most of them were dead.

Kellan pulled out his cell. The battery was flashing an uncaring red. He shoved it back in his pocket.

“Rudy, call Emma. See if she’s okay.” Kellan stood up. “Phantom, get all the weapons you can, pull a truck around. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. The cops will be here soon, and we need to be gone.”

The two of them jumped to carry out the orders. Kellan racked his mind as he decided what they were going to do. The first thought that popped into his mind was simple, and brutal. He wanted to hit Gabriel back. He wanted to blow that little mansion in the mountains to pieces and make Gabriel walk through the bodies and the blood of the people he had trusted the most. It wasn’t a good thought, but it was the one keeping him breathing.

A few minutes later Rudy came back. “Emma’s not picking up. I got ahold of Hannah. Apparently she went back to her dad’s place.”

“Why?” Kellan demanded. “Why would she go there?”

Rudy couldn’t quite meet Kellan’s eyes. “She said the two of you fought, that she wanted some space to figure things out. Hannah is trying to get ahold of her now.”

“Gabriel’s got eyes on that place,” Phantom said.

“Does she know that?” Rudy asked. 

Kellan felt a wave of cold hate wash through him when he said, “No.”

Chapter 13

When Emma left Hannah’s house, she stopped at Kellan’s long enough to pack just what she would need. Then she took the dog with her. Part of it was the fact that she didn’t know how long he would be gone, and part of it was that she was feeling just a little petty. Rocco was a great dog, and he deserved great treatment. Kellan didn’t know how to treat anything nicely. It was a shame to waste such a good dog on that low life jerk.

“Come on, big fella,” she said as she closed the door to her father’s house behind her. The sound of it echoed through the living room. She had a grocery bag in one hand, and his leash in the other. She dropped the leash. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Someone had cleaned up the place. It didn’t smell like cigarettes or medication anymore. It smelled like fake lemons and ammonia. Rocco huffed his dislike and snuffled around the carpet, looking for a place that smelled like him. His leash trailed behind him like a thick ribbon of dark red.

Emma let him explore while she went to the kitchen. She set the big paper bag down on top of the counter and opened the fridge. It had been completely cleaned out. There wasn’t even a ring on the lowest shelf where her father used to keep his favorite beers. For some reason, that seemed wrong. She pushed it away. This wasn’t her father’s place anymore; it was hers. She could sell it or pass it along, or whatever she wanted to do. At this moment all she wanted to do was make something for dinner and then go to bed. Her eyes hurt from crying.

Not that Kellan deserved any tears. Oh no. She had plenty of other reasons to cry. A chip in her nonexistent nail polish was worth more tears than that criminal.

Her phone rang. She glanced down at the ID and saw it was Hannah.

“Hey, girl,”

“Hey, Brains, did you get to your dad’s okay?”

“Your timing is ridiculous. I just got here. I did not crash my car. I told you I wouldn’t. It was only two glasses of wine.” Emma paused. “Wait, if I’m Brains, what does that make you?”

“Beauty, of course,” Hannah teased.

Emma smirked. It felt good to smile. “Gee, thanks.”

“Did you grab a bunch of horrible things to eat?”

Emma pulled items out of her grocery bag and laid them out on the counter. “I have a box of assorted chocolates, mint chocolate chip ice cream, the good root beer that comes in the brown bottles, watermelon gummy rings, and some of those frozen French bread pizza things with everything on them.”

“Oh, that’s the stuff.”

“I even stopped by the Red Box and picked up a couple of movies.” She pulled one more box out of the bag, but didn’t bother to relay its contents. There were some things Hannah didn’t really need to know.

“Chick flicks?”

Emma snorted. “I got The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the remake of course. The Conjuring. And something called Vampire Sorority Girls. I fully expect that last one to be terrible.”

“Horror?” Hannah sounded confused. “You got a bunch of horror flicks?”

Emma started preheating the oven. “Yeah, they make me feel better.”

Her father’s life had been packed into cardboard boxes and Tupperware containers large enough to fit an entire body. Someone, Hannah probably, had left the lids open so Emma could go through the memories and decide which ones she wanted to keep, and which ones went on to the thrift store. She pawed through one of them, looking for a glass.

“Sweetie, that’s weird.”

Emma laughed. “Why? Because I’d rather see a bunch of idiots get chopped up than watch some pretty boy lie about being super in love with some pretty girl?”

Hannah waited a beat. “All right, you may have a point there.”

“Besides, it’s not like I don’t have a great big fuzzy guard dog to keep me company.” Emma plopped a glass down on the counter and filled it with ice from the automatic dispenser and spilled the contents of one brown bottle into the cup.

“Holy shit, you took Rocco?”

Emma looked through the boxes that were sitting on the dinning room table. After a moment she found a cookie sheet. It was nearly as old as she was. There was a single black ring in one corner where she had burnt a peanut butter cooking to smithereens when she’d been a little girl. She traced her finger over it. “I didn’t take him. I’m watching him. I’ll take him back whenever I know Kellan is done being a big poo-head.”

“Poo-head? Really. Honey, I know you know how to curse better than that.”

“He doesn’t deserve better than that,” Emma growled. Rocco glanced up at her.

“Wow, he really made you mad.” Hannah’s voice rang with empathy. “I know you care about him.”

“I love him. Hell, I didn’t mean to love him. I just…I just do.”

“I know. What are you going to do about it?”

Emma picked up the box and stared down at it. “I don’t know, Han. I really don’t.”

Hannah made a sympathetic sound. “You don’t have to decide right now, Emma. Take the night. Take a few nights. Curl up with your bloody movies, your junk food, and the dog and don’t even worry about him.”

“I will.”

“Did you want me to come over?”

Emma shook her head, even though Hannah couldn’t see it. “Not tonight. But maybe we can go shopping tomorrow? The estate checks from all my dad’s stuff have been deposited into my account. I could splurge and get my hair done and find a sexy dress.”

“Oh, now that’s the spirit.” Hannah laughed. “How about one-thirty? I can drop the little ones off at my sister’s and we can even catch a movie and do a late lunch or early dinner. Whatever comes with margaritas.”

“That sounds perfect. Wear comfy shoes. I plan on running up a bill.”

Hannah made a heady sound. “I love it when a woman talks about bad financial choices.”

Emma laughed. The preheat timer on the oven dinged its readiness. “All right, I’m going to pour myself into a junk food comma.”

“All right, call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Night.”

“Night.”

They hung up. Emma slid a pizza onto the tray and into the over. She let Rocco out into the backyard to run around and relieve himself. Then she plucked her last purchase off the counter and stared down at it.

The box was plain white and just a little longer than her hand. One corner boasted a positive sign, another had a negative one. In the middle were the words Early-sign Pregnancy Test’. Beneath that it continued with, Can be used up to three days before a missed period.

Emma took a deep breath. She was well beyond three days past her missed period. It was heading on day nine. It wasn’t that she’d never missed a cycle before. It happened. She pretty much expected it during finals week, but this was different. She had never been sleeping with anyone during the months before finals week. She knew that unless she was carrying the next baby Jesus that her missed period was all stress related, not pregnancy related. Maybe she was worrying too much about it. Emma had every reason to be stressed out.

She also knew she’d been having round after round of wild lovemaking for the past few weeks. She ripped the plastic off the box and headed for the bathroom.

She never knew ten minutes could take so damn long. The pizza was going to take longer than this. Emma paced the small square of her bathroom floor and waited.

What would she do if she were pregnant? She quickly did the math in her head. By the time graduation rolled around she’d be around twenty-eight weeks. The average human pregnancy was between thirty-seven and forty weeks. If she managed to graduate, she could give birth and defer her loans for the few years of her non-collegiate life so she could take care of the baby. The money from her father’s passing would help. The house was paid off. She might have to get a part-time job after a while, but Hannah could probably help with that. That woman knew people.

Kellan’s face swam up in her mind. How would he feel about having a kid? Well, she knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. Would he be mad at her? Would he think she got pregnant on purpose? Maybe she wouldn’t tell him. That seemed like the best idea. She didn’t want him feeling like he had to participate.

Not telling him was wrong. If there were a child, he helped make it. Kellan had every right to know his kid. She imagined what it would be like to tell him. At first the daydream involved him sweeping her up into his arms, kissing her, and telling her everything was great. She knew that was bull. The daydream broke down piece by piece. His smile became a sneer of resentment, he yelled at her, called her names, and made huge accusations.

Neither of those seemed right, but her brain wasn’t willing to come up with anything else.

“Lots of help you are,” she said to her imagination.

The doorbell rang.

She sighed. It was probably Kellan. He had probably gotten home and saw that his dog was nowhere to be found, and neither was Emma. She glanced at the timer on her cell phone. She had two minutes left until the reading was ready. With an expert finger she flicked the timer into standby. Her hand, still wet from washing it, fumbled and her phone clattered behind the toilet.

“Shoot.”

She thought about going for it when the doorbell went off again.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Emma muttered. She opened the bathroom door.

Rocco was scratching at the back door. She let him in and he went scampering for the front. The bell rang for a third time. Someone was pissy.

“I don’t care if it is Kellan,” she said petulantly. “He’s not getting any pizza.”

Rocco howled. He snuffed at the front door, and then he growled. Emma stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She took a moment to look through the peephole. Gabriel stood on the doorstep, his creepy brother stood behind him to the left, another man she didn’t recognize stood to the right. She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

“Hey, gringa.” Gabriel’s voice came through the door. The wood didn’t seem as thick or as safe as it should have. “Open up, let us in. We don’t have to make this too difficult.”

Why were they here? Her father was dead. She had nothing to do with whatever had happened between them. Did that really matter right this moment?

Emma took a step away from the door. She tried to be as quiet as possible. A dull part of her hoped they would just leave if they thought she wasn’t there.

“Come on, baby.” Michael said. He made loud kissing sounds. “I wanna show you a good time.”

“We know you are in there. We saw that big ol’ car of yours pull up. Did you think hiding it in the garage was going to help you?”

She had, actually. She hadn’t expected that someone was watching the place. It had been weeks since anyone was here. Emma still kept her mouth closed. She took another slow step away. Rocco barked.

“Fine,” Gabriel called. “Have it your way, white bitch.” A loud thunk followed the words. The sound of a boot hitting the door. She saw the wood buckle, heard a small crack. It might make it through a second kick; it wasn’t going to make it through a third.

She scooped up Rocco and started to run. She had made it two steps when the frame gave and the door blasted inwards. She kept running. Her only thought was to get to her phone, call the police. Where had she left it? She scrambled for the kitchen. Her purse was in there.

Rocco squirmed in her grasp, and slipped through her arms. She felt a hand wrap over her elbow. Martial arts training had her twisting and jerking her arm down and out of the assailant’s reach. She scrambled for her purse. She heard a man cry out, and then the sound of a boot hitting flesh.

Rocco’s cry was one of pain, high-pitched and confused. She whirled.

“Leave my dog alone!”

Gabriel and Michael were standing on either side of the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of her house. Gabriel looked cold, angry, and calculating. His brother’s mouth hung open with the slack look of someone who was really enjoying himself. He scooped up the dog and took one of the legs into his hand. He twisted. The particular wooden sound of bone cracking mingled with the pained cries of the dog. Michael licked his lips.

“Stop it!”

Michael’s eyes were alight as he grabbed the mutt by the nape of the neck.

“Come with us, and he’ll leave the dog alone,” Gabriel offered. “Make it easy.”

Emma watched Michael take another leg. She winced in sympathy. “All right, all right, just let me take care of him.”

Gabriel shook his head. “We don’t have time for that. Someone’s probably already called the cops, a white neighborhood like this? They’ll be here as soon as possible. No matter that your dad was a criminal.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. “Can I bring my medicine?”

“What medicine?”

She thought up a lie as quickly as the words left her mouth. “I have a heart condition. I need medicine.”

He seemed to think about it. “Where is it?”

She wondered what it meant that he was going to let her take imaginary medication. Did that mean he wanted to keep her alive for a while? Was that a good thing? She looked over at Michael, with his bright eyes and wet lips. She wasn’t sure that being alive was ultimately a good thing.

“In the bathroom.”

“Miguel can get it.”

She shook her head. “There are a lot of prescriptions. My dad was dying, remember? If you really want to be out of here before the cops, I’ll need to grab it.”

Miguel smirked. “Yeah, daddy went and killed himself with cigars before I could do it with my gun. Shame. All right, Miguel, go with the girl. Michael, you hold onto the dog. If she tries anything stupid, kill it.”

Michael made a small sound that made Emma’s stomach feel queasy. She shuddered. She took one careful step towards Gabriel, and then another, until she was walking around him. He made no move to stop her. Miguel, the other man, was waiting for her near the hallway when she made it out of the kitchen.

She opened the medicine cabinet. Her fingers shook as she looked through the bottles. No one had bothered cleaning these out.

“What’s that?” Miguel asked, looking at the plastic stick sitting on the counter.

Emma didn’t see a reason to lie. Wasn’t there something in Catholicism that said that life was sacred? Maybe they wouldn’t hurt her. Then again, they did shoot people, so maybe they didn’t stick to close to the tenants of the faith. “Pregnancy test.” 

“You pregnant.”

“Don’t know yet.”

He eyed the stick. “You want to know?”

She nodded, her hands going still on the medication.

“Then look.”

She picked up the test and glanced at the symbol glaring out of the little plastic window.

“Well?”

“Nope,” she tossed it into the garbage can. “Not pregnant.”

“Maybe next time.”

It was possibly the weirdest conversation she had ever had. “Yeah, maybe next time.”

There were about twelve or so orange bottles lined up on the medicine cabinet shelf. She glanced over each one in turn, and found the one with the most worn label. Her father’s name was invisible. She held it up for Miguel to see, and then made to tuck it in her pocket. Her fingers dipped and the prescription clattered to the ground, following a path similar to that of her dropped cell.

“Shoot.”

Miguel looked frustrated. “Hurry up.”

“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands, trying to look as innocent as possible. “Not a problem.”

She bent, sure to point her ass in his general direction. There was every possibility that he’d look at that before watching her swipe the bottle and her phone. She tucked the cell between her breasts and stood up, holding up the bottle. “Success.”

“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist and hauled her after him. She put up only the most minimal of fights.

“Let’s go,” Gabriel ordered.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked.

“My place.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

He pulled a black bag out of his back pocket. “And you won’t.”

Emma hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been that. She didn’t know why the idea of being tucked into that dark bag for an indeterminate amount of time made her shiver, but it did.

“Can…can I help the dog?”

“No,” Gabriel said. He made a motion to Michael. “Kill the dog, let’s go.”

“No!” She was diving for Rocco before she knew what she was doing. Miguel wrapped an arm around her middle and hauled her back. She struggled until the two of them fell to the floor. “Don’t!”

Michael’s hands wrapped around the mutt’s thick throat. Rocco kicked out with his back feet, struggling to get away from his killer. He wasn’t watching the dog, though. He was watching her. She looked up into his face. His dark eyes were bright. They had that soft light that a man got when he was looking at something he wanted, something he loved. She saw his tendons strain as Rocco tried to bark through the ever tightening grasp.

“Please, please stop,” she begged.

No one said anything to her. Rocco kept kicking, kept shaking his head. He kicked and struggled. His back leg caught Michael across the arm, and down the side. Michael cursed in his native tongue and threw Rocco across the room. Rocco fell against the ground, and didn’t move.

“No!” she screamed. She struggled to get to the ugly mutt. She wanted to check him, to help him. Miguel grabbed her and she kicked out. Her bare foot caught him across the face. She felt his nose crunch beneath her heel. He growled.

A hand wrapped in her hair and yanked her back. She looked up and up and into Gabriel’s dark eyes. They were oddly beautiful. They weren’t just brown. They were the color of whiskey and copper and earth. They were tucked into a strikingly angular face with high cheekbones and full lips. In another time, another place, he might have been handsome, but his features were contorted with his cold anger. He just looked hard.

“Stop it.” It wasn’t a request. He shook her hair. Her roots burned. She felt some of the strands rip beneath his palm. “Stop moving or I’ll shoot you right here.”

She didn’t listen. Her body fought against his hold. She reached up and grabbed his elbow, raking her nails down his wrist. He snarled and slammed her head forward. Her head rang with the impact of her brow against the ground.

At that moment her cell phone went off. The screen light up inside of her blouse followed by a cheerful trill.

All three men went still.

Gabriel jammed his hand inside her shirt. He didn’t grope her. His anger was well past perversion. He held up the screen. She caught a brief glimpse of Rudy’s name. She didn’t fight anymore.

“Load her into the car.”

They tucked her in the backseat, and then into the black bag. She slumped in her spot. Someone put the seatbelt on her. It almost made her laugh. They were willing to invade her house, hurt her dog, and beat her up, but going around without a seatbelt was just too holy of a law to break. She snorted inside the pitch blackness of her hood.

“What’s so funny, bitch?” It must have been Miguel who asked. The rhythm of his words sounded a little off because of the broken nose.

“Why do I need a seatbelt?” she asked.

“Gotta protect the merchandise.” It was Michael this time. She knew the voice. A hand patted her thigh, lingering on her hip.

She shivered.

Gabriel said something in Spanish. Michael responded. It sounded like he was whining about something. Gabriel gave him an order and the hand lifted away from her hip. Apparently she wasn’t going to be sexually assaulted in the back of the car just yet.

It was a very small comfort. Right this moment, she’d take it.

Chapter 14

The cops and the fire department were at Mac Ketchum’s old place when Kellan’s bike came roaring up the street. Had he been thinking straight he would have turned around as soon as he saw the flashing lights. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. He was already parked and charging across the perimeter of uniformed bodies when strong arms hauled him backwards.

The house was on fire. Big clouds of dark smoke filled the air.

“Emma!” he screamed out. “Emma!’

“Sir!” someone repeated with the determination and authority of a police officer pig.

He whirled towards the voice. “What?” he snarled.

“Is this your house?” The police officer was tall and well built, but it wasn’t the person holding him. Kellan turned again and found himself facing Rudy, who still had a firm hold on his shoulder. 

“Let me go, man.” Kellan shoved against Rudy.

“No,” Rudy said. “You can’t do anything, Kellan. You gotta let them work. You gotta let them do something.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to let them do their job. He wanted to find Emma. Was she in there? Was she dead? “I gotta help Emma.”

“You can’t.” Rudy gave him a shake. “Kellan, listen to me, you can’t.”

“Why?”

“Look around you!”

Kellan blinked and tried to take in his surroundings. His breath felt too loud in his ears. A half dozen firemen were waiving hoses across the roof of the house. The water seemed to evaporate before it hit anything. As many police officers were wandering around the lawn. A few were talking to a couple that Kellan recognized as neighbors. They were motioning towards the house, and then towards the road.

“Sir,” the officer repeated. One of his hands was resting causally near his sidearm. It made Kellan angrier. The officer’s eyes weren’t on Kellan’s face, but resting on his vest and the patches that it sported. “Is this your house?”

“No,” he snapped out. “It’s my wife’s house.”

The word felt strange on his tongue. He didn’t think he’d ever called Emma that. They had been married for a month and going to bed together for the better part of that. He should have called her wife before now. He should have said a hundred other things too. What if she was dead? What if he never got to tell her?

“You don’t live with your wife?”

“It was her father’s place. He died a few weeks ago from cancer. It’s hers now,” Rudy explained.

“Was she here?”

Kellan shook his head. “I don’t know. I think so. We got into a fight.”

“What did you get into a fight over?” He plucked a pad of paper and a pen from his front pocket.

Kellan became aware of the fact that this was a cop, and everything that was said and done could be used in a court of law. He was pretty sure you didn’t go to jail for a house catching on fire, but he didn’t think it couldn’t be used against him somehow. Kellan wanted to ask why that mattered, why any of it mattered. He didn’t. “Having kids.” It was close enough to the truth.

The officer nodded in mock sympathy. Kellan wanted to hit him. Only Rudy’s cool hand on his shoulder kept him from doing just that.

“So you guys fought, she left, and you think she came here?”

“I left,” Kellan corrected. “I was mad so I left. I didn’t want to talk to her anymore. I don’t know where she went or what she did. I haven’t talked to her since the fight.”

“Does she make a habit of running out when you guys fight?”

Kellan swept a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I…we’ve only been married a month.”

“Already fighting?” The officer’s eyes stayed level on Kellan.

“What the hell does it matter? Is she in there?”

“We don’t know yet.”

There was a commotion. Raised voices. Kellan charged towards them. He dimly heard “alive” and “injured.” A fireman, dressed in the bright yellow suit, came out of the front door. In the curve of his arms was a dark mutt with a big head.

“Rocco!”

He took another step forward. The officer tailed his steps. “Is that your dog?”

“Yes,” he said. “Is he dead?”

The fireman shook his head. “Hurt pretty bad, though.”

“Emma’s a vet,” he said stupidly. He reached a hand out and touched the dog. He felt warm. His chest rose and fell slowly. “Almost a vet. She’s got one more semester of college left.”

That didn’t matter, but he found himself talking about it anyway. The officer wrote it down. Apparently it mattered somehow.

“She wouldn’t have left him alone. She doesn’t like leaving him alone. Keeps telling me dogs are pack creatures. They don’t understand why people leave.”

The officer nodded again, and kept writing.

“Is she in there?”

The police officer and the fireman exchanged a glance. Kellan didn’t need to hear them say it. No one was inside. Kellan’s legs gave out and he crumpled to the ground. “She wouldn’t just leave him.”

“Even if she were mad at you?”

Kellan gave the officer a bitter look. “What do you think happened? You think my wife was so mad about kids that she brought the dog to her dad’s house and lit it on fire?”

“Is that what you think happened?”

Kellan jerked his head to one side, and then the other. “No. Hell no. If Emma were that mad, she’d just take the dog and stop talking to me.” He snorted and found that he could stand again. “She gives a wicked cold shoulder.”

The officer asked more questions. Rudy answered most of them. Phantom never said a word. Kellan was too busy deciding what he was going to do when he got his hands on Gabriel. There was no doubt in his mind that the drug dealer had everything to do with Emma’s disappearance. Kellan already owed him for sending a hit squad to shoot up the clubhouse.

The firefighter gave Kellan a small pump and a dog-sized facemask to tend to Rocco. Kellan held it over his face and slowly pumped some life back into the animal. There was something wrong with the mutt. It wasn’t just breathing in bad air, his leg hung at a funny angle and he wasn’t lifting his head very much. Though he managed a whimper when Kellan asked him if he was all right.

“Did you hear what I said, sir?”

Kellan looked up. “No,” he admitted.

“I asked if you knew if someone had a reason to attack your wife.”

Kellan kept his face blank when he said, “No.” 

The officer clearly didn’t believe him.

“Why?” Rudy asked.

“Apparently some neighbors heard a confrontation before the fire started. The door was kicked in.”

Kellan ran his tongue over his lips. “I gotta go.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

Kellan kept walking. “You can’t stop me.”

“The hell I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You admitted to you fought with your wife, and now it seems she’s missing. That makes you a suspect.”

Kellan snorted. “Being a suspect isn’t the same as taking me into custody. You haven’t got shit for that.”

Kellan got on his bike and started it. He didn’t hear what the cop said as he went roaring off into the evening. Nothing the man said would have mattered anyway. He knew where Emma was, and he was going to go get her. He heard Phantom and Rudy start up their own bikes. It didn’t take them very long to figure out exactly where Kellan was going.

Chapter 15

Not being able to see while the car drove over a road that curved more than it was straight made Emma feel sick to her stomach. Then again, maybe that was getting hit in the head. A nice head wound was bound to make a person queasy. She didn’t know how good her vision was, since everything was dark, but she was pretty sure she was nursing a minor concussion.

“How much farther?” she asked.

At first no one said anything to her. They had spoken, but almost all of it was in Spanish. She knew only a few very basic words like girl and home. Those were repeated often enough that she assumed they were talking about her.

She distracted herself by focusing on a line of visibility at the very edge of the bag. She could see her thumbs, and a sliver of her lap, but nothing else. It was at least something to focus on as she moved, a knowledge that the world wasn’t swallowed up by dark fabric. “Seriously,” she said, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’d better swallow,” Gabriel ordered.

She wondered if Gabriel ever just talked. Was everything he said a directive? She recalled a half-remembered statement that people who were too comfortable ordering other people around had sociopathic tendencies. That wasn’t a nice thought. It disappeared when they took another curve. She felt the burning taste of bile in the back of her throat.

Michael made a joke, and the others burst out laughing. There was another turn and then the car came to a stop. She held still while doors opened. Strong hands guided her out of the car. Her head smacked against the doorframe. The wave of sickness became worse.

The black bag stayed on as she was led over a driveway of crushed seashells and up a set of stairs so white they glittered beneath her feet. She heard more voices, all speaking Spanish. Gabriel’s domineering tone followed by recitations and information. It was amazing how much a question sounded like a question no matter what language it was said in.

She tried to concentrate on every sound she heard, every sensation she felt. The sound of a sliding glass door, the scent of chlorinated water, and the feel of air conditioning. The heat of the sunlight spilling across her back. Her bare feet walked over expensive flooring. She took it all in.

She was led up winding stairs, and away from the warmth of the sunlight. When the bag was finally yanked off her head she was shoved into a room with no windows. It should have been dark, but a series of three incredibly bright lights were fixed into a ceiling to bright for her to reach. The only furniture was a cheap plastic chair, like the kind that would sit around a colorful kiddie pool. There wasn’t even a bucket to do her business in. Not that she would have been able to do that anyway.

She took a seat in the chair and held her head between her hands. The pounding was so bad she thought her head was splitting open. Heat from the lights did nothing to help. The room seemed to spin. There was lead in her legs, she was sure of it. Delicately, she tried to stand. Her pulse seemed to pound in her throat. All she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. Small spots of light flickered across her eyes.

She definitely had a concussion. A few paragraphs in her biology book had explained that focusing helped a concussion. She dug through her repertoire of mental knowledge and began muttering names under her breath.

Sometime later the door opened and Gabriel walked in. “What are you doing, gringa?” The sound of the door closing behind him was so loud she winced.

“Reciting presidents,” she answered. “I think I have a concussion.”

He nodded and opened the door. She didn’t hear what he said, but a few minutes later he handed her an ice pack.

With a suspicious look she took it. The cold weight of it pressed gingerly to the bump on her head alleviated some of the pain. After a moment he handed her a bottle of water and a couple Tylenol.

“Why are you being nice now?”

“I got reasons,” he said. He leaned casually against the door. “Can I get you anything? Something to eat?”

She shook her head, and the world spun. “No, thanks.”

His eyes were dark and luminous. They roamed over her as she took the medicine, chasing it with a sip of water. She felt underdressed in her tank top and pajama shorts. She tucked her legs beneath her.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say you know who I am.”

Emma blinked. It sounded like the line out of a bad action flick. “Gabriel.”

“That’s right. Did your papi tell you about me?”

She drew herself up as tall as she could from her seated position. It didn’t feel good, but it felt better than slumping like a kicked dog. “After your brother attacked me, yeah.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s Michael. Between you and me, he’s got some problems, you know? Up here.” He tapped the side of his head and spread his hands out like there was nothing that he could say or do about that. Emma didn’t entirely believe him. “He gets these thoughts in his head, and he can’t shake them. I mean, okay, we grew up in this piece of shit town near Nevada, right? Crappy little place. Had this mouse problem. So most people got a cat. Not us, my mom hated cats, so she got this ugly terrier thing, worked just as good.”

“Terriers are natural rat catchers.”

His smile was big and genuine. “They are, they are. We named the dog Fetch. Seemed like a good idea. Anyway, Fetch did what dogs do and dug up under the piece of shit fence between our backyard and the neighbors. No one had a whole lot of yard so everyone was really protective of it, right? This guy got real mad, real mad. He was a cat person, you know? He had, like, three of them. He shot Fetch.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said with sympathy. Her thoughts drifted back to Rocco. She really hoped the dog was okay. He was a good dog.

“Yeah, me too. But, you see, Michael got real pissed off about it. He gets that way sometimes. Someone does something and he just starts obsessing about it. He can’t stop until he does something. He obsessed for, like, three weeks about this asshole shooting our dog. He said he was going to do something about it. I mean, I didn’t believe him. Kids say they are going to do all kinds of things like dig to China or fly to the moon in a box of something. Then, one day, he brings me this little box and tells me to open it. Guess what he’s got inside?”

Emma very much did not want to guess. She shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

“He’s got, like, four cat legs. All of them belonged to this guy’s cats. And he goes and throws them on this dude’s porch.”

“Oh my god.”

“Right?” Gabriel slapped his leg. “I mean, he was serious about getting back at that guy. And you know what the real funny thing was? He brought the rest of the cats to our mom to show her what he had done. And you know what she did? Do you? I’ll tell you. She made them into a casserole. I mean, how screwed up is that?”

“Why are you telling me this?” Emma asked.

“I just think you ought to know that my family is pretty serious when it comes to retribution. I mean, just look what happens when our dog gets shot? Can you imagine what it’s like if a few million dollars worth of drugs vanishes?”

Emma nearly gagged on her own shock. “What?”

A single brow shot up. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“No. God, I didn’t know.”

“Your dad never gave you any of that money?”

She shook her head slowly, trying not to agitate the headache that was pounding behind her eyes. “I’ve been working thirty or more hours a week just to put myself through college without going into debt. Do you think I would be doing that if my dad gave me any percentage of a few million dollars?”

He tucked his tongue inside his cheek. Apparently she had said something to amuse him, but she hadn’t the foggiest idea what. “He gave you a man.”

She rolled her eyes. “He thought Kellan would save me.”

“Has he?”

She glanced around the otherwise empty room. “Not yet.”

Gabriel made a low tsking sound and shook his head. The dark set of his hair moved back and forth with the motion. “You are a funny girl. Funny, funny girl. You don’t need to be afraid of me, little thing.”

She leveled her azure gaze at him. “Gee, I can’t imagine why I would think you might hurt me.”

He laughed. It was a surprisingly attractive sound, rich and warm. Again she was struck by the fact that she would have thought him cute in a different time or a different place. He slid down towards the ground, crouching in front of her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why kidnap me? You hated my dad. Fine, I get that. Most of the time I hated him, too. But he’s dead.”

He nodded, still staying crouched. There was something vaguely bestial about the way he moved, sleek and elegant, as if he thought of every movement before he did it. The way his muscles stirred beneath his skin made her think of an animal that was circling easy prey. 

“It’s not just your dad, little thing. I mean, it started off that way, sure. Your dad stole something that belonged to me. I thought giving his smarty-pants daughter a little scare might get me what I wanted.”

“Did it?” she asked.

He shook his head. His lips formed a bemused smile. “No. Your father was a stubborn man.”

The laugh that bubbled out of her throat was a dark and angry sound, full of frustration. “Yeah, yeah, he was.”

“He married you off to one of his little men and thought it would keep you safe.”

“You see,” she managed after another sip of water, “that’s why I’m not feeling totally comfortable in your presence.”

He nodded slowly. “I understand. You shouldn’t, not really. But you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

The words made no sense to her. Maybe it was the concussion, maybe it was the fact that English was his second language, maybe he was just being vague on purpose to be intimidating. No matter what, Emma felt the urge to sit back from him.

The lights had not been dimmed when he entered. They still blazed like a trio of summer suns out of the ceiling. Sweat was forming on her upper lip and her back. Maybe that was part of his plan, sweat her to death.

“Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head languidly from one side to the other. “No, little thing, I’m not going to kill you. I lost a lot of money because of your papi and I plan on getting it back.”

“I told you, my dad is dead.”

“Yes, you did. I believe you. I saw his funeral. A lot of people were there, it was very touching.” His tone didn’t match his words. He said it like he was reciting from a very boring script, or an even more lackluster book. He rose to his feet in a wave of copper colored flesh. “You know, must have cost you a lot of money to give him that funeral. Money that should have gone to paying me back.”

She slid back another step, feeling her back bump against the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t, little thing, but that doesn’t much matter, does it? Your man knew. He wasn’t just another piss-ant member of your daddy’s crew, was he? He was his right-hand man, his heir, his little cock sucking bitch. He knew what was owed me, and instead of paying up, he got to marry you. He got to keep your pretty blonde head down in his lap every night.”

She swallowed. Gabriel was keeping his tone even, but his eyes were glittering with anger. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said Gabriel was jealous, but that didn’t really match their relationship.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get my money out of you.”

She felt the sweat drip over her cheeks, hot water on hotter skin. It evaporated before it got to her chin, leaving a crusty line in its wake. Her hair felt heavy, so heavy on top of her head. “How? Are you going to ransom me?”

He chuckled, and it was not a nice sound. “To who?”

“I—”

He held up a single finger, cutting off her words. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a phone. He turned it towards her, offering it up. A news video had been pulled up, a pretty woman’s face frozen in professional concern, a mic clutched in her dark hand. Emma hesitated. Over the woman’s shoulder she could see the familiar edge of The Saloon. A plume of motionless smoke was poised over the woman’s other shoulder.

“Oh god,” Emma choked out. “What did you do?”

He didn’t say anything. He just reached out with a single finger and tapped the screen. The video began to play. Emma didn’t really hear the words. They just rolled over her brain. In moments she knew a gunfight had broken out at a bar that was known for gang related activity. It was unknown how many were dead, but at this moment it was believed there were no survivors.

“Oh god,” Emma repeated. “Why? Why would you do that? They didn’t do anything to you.”

He snatched the phone out of her hands and closed the distance between the two of them. His face took up all of her vision, his dark eyes nearly on fire. “You don’t know what they did to me. You have any idea what the cartel does if I don’t pay them back? They had to know, everyone had to know no one gets away from stealing from me.”

“I didn’t steal from you,” she said softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Too bad.”

He took a single step back, it wasn’t enough to make her feel any better, but it was enough that she could breathe. “I—”

“Bitch, I am getting really tired of hearing you talk about yourself. I think it’s time you understood a few things.”

She stayed quiet. Her heart felt too big for her chest and she desperately wished she could turn off the lights and lay down, but she said nothing. This conversation was lasting too long and the medicine hadn’t quite set it. “Besides that your family is super vengeful and eats cats?”

“Oh yeah, besides that. You see, it took a lot for the unwanted kids of migrant farm workers to come up in the world. It took a, what do you call it? A cultivation process. We had to cultivate ourselves to be these big scary things.”

“You mean like change your name?”

He nodded. “Yeah, like change our name. But that’s only part of it. We had to make sure we got respect, that people were afraid of us. So, that’s why we had to go shoot up your daddy’s bar, and that’s why I’m going to use you to get money.”

“You still haven’t told me how.”

He reached a hand out and ran it through her golden hair. His voice was low, and threatening when he said, “There are certain kinds of men who will pay good money for an uppity white girl to do whatever they say.”

“You’re going to sell me?”

“What? After the cat story, that surprises you?” He let her hair fall as he walked away from her. “Man, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“How long are you gonna leave me here?”

“Depends.” He opened the door and a blissfully cold rush of air came in, alleviating some of the oppressive heat.

“On what?”

“How long my brother wants with you.”

The door closed with a soft click.

Chapter 16

The road was old and badly maintained. In some places it was rubble caked to dry earth, in others it was more like sand. Kellan felt all of it beneath the wheels of his bike as he tore around curve and into the next. The sun slid behind the mountains, and the air went cold against his face. This was the kind of ride that would usually bring him some kind of comfort. The feel of being a part of the world, separated by nothing but leather and denim, but not today. Toady all he could do was feel the way his heart was pounding in his ears, and the way his jeans clung to the tacky wound on his hip.

All he could think about was Emma.

Emma, with her blonde hair that she never bothered to do anything with. Emma with her blue eyes that could go from happy to thoughtful in the span of a thought. Images of her pale hands on his chest and her tears on her cheeks tore at him.

Kellan twisted his wrist and felt the bike shift beneath him. The familiar rumble of the engine against his legs was the only comfort he could find, and only because it was bringing him closer to her. Trees whipped by at a hundred and twenty miles an hour, eighty when they were turning, and it still wasn’t fast enough. It was dangerous, but Kellan couldn’t bring himself to care. He just had to get to Emma.

They had made a quick stop at Rudy’s place to leave Rocco with Hannah, to pick up more weapons and to put together a lie for the cops about where they had been when the attack on the clubhouse went down. Then they had left civilization behind to make use of a long forgotten road.

He followed the pale back of Phantom, who no longer wore a prospect’s patch. He held a hand out, nearly the color of the moon in the sky, and all three of them brought their bikes to a halt. He could hear the fading echo of their engines through the valley.

“What’s wrong?” Kellan demanded.

Phantom pointed. Kellan followed the line of his hand and then cursed. The road was gone, washed out with the recent rain. A ribbon of a river slithered over the rocks and into the trees. It wasn’t particularly wide, but just wide enough to keep them from being able to cross it on their bikes. Kellan cursed again.

“We’ll have to walk.” Rudy clapped a hand on Kellan’s shoulder. He dismounted and tucked the bike into the dark line of trees, not bothering to cover it up. It wasn’t likely that anyone was going to come up this way, and even if they did, it wasn’t likely that they’d steal a bunch of bikes. Kellan didn’t care if they did. He’d give up every bike he’d ever built if it meant getting to Emma in time.

In time? In time for what? What if she was already dead?

“What’s the plan, president?” Rudy asked after the bikes were abandoned. He distributed a bag of weapons to each of them. They were easily thirty pounds each, maybe more. Kellan barely felt it.

“We get Emma,” he responded. “We kill Gabriel and his freak brother and we get Emma.”

The three of them tromped carefully across the murky ground. Their boots slid across damp mud and slick silt. The smell of wet animal and pine wafted up around them. They had to go slow, slower than Kellan wanted to. Their boots weren’t made for walking on muddy ground.

“How?” Phantom wanted to know.

Kellan felt an unexpected shot of anger rock through his body. He took another step and nearly fell. “We kill them, we take her.”

Rudy gripped his elbow. Kellan tried to jerk out of it. He stumbled and both men went cascading into the muck. It didn’t smell like clean mud, like the kind you might find at a playground or even in a backyard. This was the kind of mud that mixed old road with dying trees. It was the scent of a trees death, and maybe an animal, too, and Kellan went face first into it.

The anger became fire and he swung. His fist connected with Rudy’s face. Rudy swung back and got him in Kellan’s injured hip. Then they stopped swinging. Their bodies wrestled against one another. Twigs and dirt caked in their hair and on their skin.

Kellan knew he was in trouble. Rudy was a bigger man, stronger, and had grown up with a father who liked wrestling. A father, Kellan knew, that Rudy had lost to raining bullets and angry men. The man had reach, skill, and anger on his side. But Kellan had Emma.

“Get off me!” Kellan was saying. “Just get off me!”

Rudy howled, wordless and angry. His face was all twisted up with emotions Kellan didn’t know the man had in him. Rudy could be serious, but rarely angry. This was angry. This was the monster of a good man pushed past anger and well into wrath. Kellan didn’t care. It was all his fault.

Rudy slammed him into the ground, and the air whooshed out of his lungs. Kellan reached out with one hand and wrapped it around the prominent lump in Rudy’s throat. He was squeezing hard enough to make the other man cough, but neither of them gave in. Rudy slammed him again and again, until all Kellan could feel was deep sharp pain thrumming through his back.

“It’s your fault!” Kellan shouted when he punched his free fist into Rudy’s side, aiming for the kidney. He must have hit or, or at least got close, because the bigger man jerked on top of him.

The crack-boom of a gun going off cause the two men to freeze. They both jerked their heads towards the sound. There Phantom stood with the big 12 gauge that Vinny had used at the bar, the barrel of it smoking in the cool night air. He pumped it again.

“Stop.” The single word was low and carefully enunciated.

“Man, what the hell are you doing?” Kellan demanded.

“We don’t have the time.” Phantom leveled the gun at the two of them. “Get up. Now,” he added when they hesitated.

Rudy and Kellan held up their hands. Rudy stood up first, and then offered a slick, muddy hand to Kellan.

“Emma needs us.”

“She wouldn’t need us if not for him,” Kellan spat. He hadn’t even known he was angry about it until he words were coming out of his mouth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Rudy demanded. “Gabriel took her. Not me.”

“Where was she, Rudy?” Kellan demanded. “Why wasn’t she at my place?”

Rudy didn’t answer for a minute. All Kellan could see was deep cherry red creeping up his neck beneath the patchwork layer of drying mud that caked everything. His hands clenched and unclenched and Kellan knew that he was thinking about swinging.

“Go ahead,” he snapped.

“I didn’t know she’d run off,” Rudy snarled.

“I thought you knew her. I thought you two were all big and close and everything because she spent so much time with your family. I mean, hey, I guess it’s not your fault. It’s not like she’s ever run away from things before…oh wait, that’s exactly what she does.” Kellan snapped back. He stepped up, jerking his chin towards the sky so he could look Rudy in the face rather than the neck. “She runs when she can’t take it anymore.”

“You didn’t have to do what I said.”

Kellan couldn’t argue that. “You’re right, I didn’t, and that makes this my fault, too. I was stupid enough to think you knew her better than I did. I mean hell, I’ve only really talked with her for what, a month? Maybe six weeks? I don’t even know.”

Rudy dragged a dirty hand over the cleanest part of his jeans, and then down his face, ridding it of a large portion of the muck. It sloughed towards the ground with a wet plop and the three of them stood there in the following silence.

“Do you love her?”

Kellan sighed. “I don’t—”

“Man, don’t fuck with me right now, do you love her? You are about to go charging up a mountain in the near dead of night with nothing but a load of guns and three men to use them. Those don’t seem like the actions of a man who isn’t in love.”

He wasn’t wrong, Kellan realized. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Then let’s figure out how we are going to do this, because it isn’t going to help Emma at all to have us charge up there and then die.”

Phantom knelt in the wet dirt and drew out an impressive map. For the next thirty minutes the three of them put together a plan of attack. Kellan used his bandana to wipe the worst of the mud off of his own face and redistributed the weapons so the man who carried them had the ones that worked best for him, and the plan.

“How long of a walk do you think we have?” Kellan asked. The evening had become nighttime, and it was only going to get darker. It would be a small factor in their favor when they got to Gabriel’s little mountainside estate.

Phantom glanced over his shoulder, towards a path that only he could see. “Three hours, maybe four.”

“Nine,” Kellan said. “By the time we get there Emma will have been in that house for nine hours.”

Rudy stood up. “If he had wanted to kill her, he would have left her in the house to watch it burn. She’s alive, and she probably will be for a while. All we have to do is hurry.”

“And stop punching each other in the face,” Kellan offered.

“And stop punching each other in the face.” Rudy nodded once. “Though, to be fair, you throw a terrible right hook.”

“Whatever.” Kellan followed after him. “You have a thick face.”

The small band of men fell into step with one another as they made it up the mountain. It was a grueling hike. Kellan’s leg was already hurt and his shoulder was aching beneath the bandages, adding the thirty some-odd pounds of weapons on top of that, a steep incline and pure unadulterated exhaustion and it was going to be four hours of hell.

He tried not to think about how many more steps, how many more minutes he would be out here. He turned his thoughts to Emma.

He’d send her to school when the fall came around. She could go and learn about all the animals in the world and how to make them feel better. She wouldn’t have to work while she studied, he’d make sure of it. If he could manage it, he would make sure she had her own place up there, too, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her roommates messing with her stuff or distracting her. Maybe he could get her a pet to keep her company. Not Rocco, that mutt would get into everything, but maybe something small like a gerbil or something. Did she like gerbils? He couldn’t imagine Emma not liking an animal that was plunked down in front of her.

His thoughts slid back to the conversations they had shared between bouts of fornication. She had always liked to talk while they were resting.

“I want to have one of everything,” she’d said, her creamy thighs still straddling him. His hands had danced up the sides of her body, still craving the weight of her breasts in his palms.

“Everything?” he had asked her. “Like, what? Half of Noah’s Arc?”

Her laugh had been so bright, so alive and brilliant. Her nose had crinkled and her breasts bounced in his hands. “I guess so.”

“I dunno.” His hands had worked across the tips of her nipples, making her hips rock in response. “A whale is gonna take up a lot of space. I’d hate to clean that tank.”

She had rolled then, flopping languidly to one side and looking at him. It was that moment that he realized just how beautiful she was. Not just hot, she had been hot since she was sixteen and started to fill out, but really beautiful. It was the kind of beauty a picture didn’t capture, but the kind that came when your heart was so big that other people couldn’t help but care.

“Okay, fine, realistically, I’d like to have a small zoo. A dog, a cat, a bird, a snake.”

“You like snakes?”

She nodded. “I like animals.”

“You don’t mind feeding them those tiny little mice?”

She had fixed him with an amused smirk. “I work in a vet clinic. I have fed feeder-mice to big ol’ snakes before.”

He had rolled on top of her, hungrily crushing her sleek body to his. “That’s hot.”

Another bright laugh. “I am not going into the psychology of that.”

His lips curled into a smile as he hiked up the side of the mountain. He hadn’t been lying when he told Rudy he loved her. It wasn’t just how good she felt when he was sliding into her, or the moans she could whimper, or the way her pretty mouth could curse, he loved her.

And Gabriel had her. Who knew what he or his creepy little brother were doing. Kellan remembered the way Michael had watched her when they had crashed the wedding. It had not been a good look. It had been the same sick look his dad had given the cougar.

Kellan’s feet couldn’t carry him fast enough.

Chapter 17

It could have been hours later, or minutes. It was impossible to tell with the unrelenting shine of the lights. Her pale skin had long since gone red, and then burnt under the oppression of the UV lighting. The bottle of water was long since empty, and all she could do was huddle on the ground with her head beneath the small square of shade that the plastic chair offered.

When the door opened she didn’t flinch. She just lay there and waited for whatever was going to happen next.

Kellan was dead, what did anything else matter? He wasn’t coming to get her. There would be no white horse, no last minute rescue of a cavalry of bikers. Long dry tears had made lines on her face. He had been at the club, and there had been no survivors of The Saloon shooting.

Leon was dead. It was a little too close to losing a second father. That tall guy with the grizzly bear beard and the kind words. Rudy, her surrogate brother and friend of so many years. Vinny, who had taught her how to punch. Handsome Joe and ever quiet Phantom. They were dead, all dead. Had Hannah been there too, Emma wondered. What about Samantha? It was far too easy to picture the long legged girl sauntering up to try to meet with Kellan only to get shot.

The idea of it brought no comfort to Emma. She might not have liked the woman, but she didn’t want her hurt. All Emma wanted was to go back in time and tell Kellan to shut up and hold her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been at the clubhouse; maybe he would have been home safe in her arms. Kellan would never be in her arms again. If the heat hadn’t stolen her tears, she would have cried again. How could she have been so dumb? She knew Gabriel was looking for her.

It was the sound of heels clicking on the floor that finally had Emma looking up. It was the legs she saw first. Long, carefully waxed legs, poised in a perfect line. Emma’s heart made a sudden leap. She sat up and saw the rest of the woman.

“Samantha?” Emma struggled to stand up, but dizziness hit her and she slithered into the plastic seat. It was soft, too soft beneath her body, as if slowly melting. Maybe it was. “What are you doing here?”

“God, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” The bitterness was thick enough to dance on.

Emma’s head spun. She wasn’t sure what to think of it. Her thoughts were stuck in the molasses of her brain. Every time she tried to follow one she got stuck. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” Samantha walked a little circle around the chair. “God, it’s hot in here. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

Emma blinked. She couldn’t stand it, not really, but she hadn’t been given much of a choice.

Samantha waltzed over to the door, the pinprick tap of her heels echoing in Emma’s head. Her manicured hand tapped on the door. It swung open. “Hey, can we turn down the lights? I mean, I love a tan as much as the next girl, but this is pretty much ridiculous.”

A moment later two of the three the lights flicked off. Emma whimpered with relief. Without the heat bearing down on her she began to think.

“You…” Her throat was dry and scratchy. She swallowed and tried again. “You’re working with them?”

“Ding ding.” Samantha waved a flippant hand, several expensive rings glittering on her fingers. “I mean, come on. What did everyone expect me to do? Wait around forever for Kellan the Idiot to come around to what was sitting right in front of him? Oh please. I know what I’m worth.”

Emma wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. “What happened?”

“What happened? I went to play for the other team. Oh, not chicks, sorry, sweetie, I don’t swing that way, and if I did, I’d go after someone who had a little more pride in their appearance, you know?”

Samantha bent just a little and plucked a flake of skin off of Emma’s face. Emma winced. She felt the tacky sensation of blood moving down her jawline.

“I mean, look at you,” Samantha continued, “you are just…there. Okay, fine, you’ve gone to college, but so what? With enough money anyone can do that. So it’s really whatever. But anyway. I guess I came up with the idea at the wedding. I mean, there you were, wearing some outdated dress and some hag hairstyle and what was I supposed to do if Kellan was willing to take you as a wife? I mean, I tried, don’t get me wrong. I really tried. I offered him everything you weren’t willing to do, but I guess you will do pretty much anything.”

The pain in her cheek brought Emma’s thoughts to a pinpoint focus. “You didn’t just tell my mom about the funeral, did you?”

“Maybe you are smart.” Samantha’s smile was a twisted impersonation of glee. “Things didn’t go exactly as planned. You were supposed to run away from your mommy and into the waiting arms of Gabriel’s men. But no, you had to do what you always do and make things more difficult first, right? But I did some quick thinking and got Ramon to come get you. It nearly worked, too, but no, Phantom had to be super creepy and watch everything. God, I wish I had been there to shoot him. He pretty much ruined everything.”

Emma closed her eyes and let her thoughts come together. Her head wasn’t hurting as bad as it had been. That was certainly a good sign, right? “What else did you do, Samantha?”

It was easy bait, but Samantha took it. “Oh, I started telling Gabriel about all the meetings. Every time the club got together. This shooting thing was supposed to happen weeks ago, but Kellan has been…indisposed.” She sneered until her pretty face looked like a bad representation of herself. Or maybe it was more Samantha than the pampered look that she was always wearing.

“But you won’t have Kellan,” Emma said. “He’s gone.”

“You think I want your sloppy seconds? Ew, gross. No, this was more about vengeance, you know? I mean, I wanted Kellan for years, dammit, years, and what happens? You show up with your face all messed up and telling some sob story about getting attacked by Michael. I mean, god. Don’t you know how to be an independent woman? Did you really have to get married so some big strong man could take care of you? Thanks for setting us back, sweetie.”

“I didn’t—”

“Yes!” Samantha snapped. “Oh yes, you did, you little skank. You used your big blue eyes to lure him away from me. I had him, dammit, I almost had him.”

Emma swallowed once, and lifted her chin. “He talked about you, you know.”

Samantha’s face went a little slack around the edges. Her desperate hope was a nearly palpable thing. “What did he say?”

“That you were pretty, or maybe he said you were hot, I can’t remember which it was. But he thought you were good to look at.”

Samantha straightened up. Her hand plopped down on a sleek hip. “I bet he did. I am good to look at. Better than you, at least I try.”

“Yeah, he said you were pretty, but he’d never touch you.”

Samantha’s eyes turned to flint. She lashed out and slapped Emma hard across the face. Her already burnt skin sang with agony beneath the sting of the attack. “Liar!” Samantha cried out, and hit her again. “Don’t lie to me!”

“And he’d heard from the other guys that you were a bad lay. Just laid there, didn’t offer any kind of encouragement. Don’t you know, Samantha? If a guy wanted to lay with someone who didn’t respond, they’d just get a doll.”

Samantha slapped her again, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad that time, even though Emma was sure the woman had hit her just as hard. That probably wasn’t a good sign. Maybe there was some kind of nerve damage.

“Shut your mouth!” Samantha screeched. “Right now!”

Emma felt a sick thrill as she spat, “He called you toxic. He said even if I weren’t in his life, he’d never touch you. You were a sickness. You just used up men and went on your way.”

Samantha let out a dangerous scream and leaped at Emma. But the door slammed open and two men dragged her out of the room, interrupting whatever she might have done. One of her heels caught against the lip between the floor and the room beyond. The door slapped against it, leaving her with an inch of freedom.

She had to go, she had to go right now. Before she could even think about it, Emma was lunging for the exit. Her fingers curled around the heavy door. It wasn’t made of wood, but metal. Who the hell had metallic doors inside their house? She pulled her arms apart, and the door opened. Cold air filled the space, rushing over her body. Energy spilled through her muscles.

“Hey!” a voice called. “Hey!”

She didn’t listen, she just ran, ran away from the voice. She didn’t know where she was, but it felt like an upstairs rather than a down. An exit had to be downstairs. The hallway was elegantly appointed. Lots of red rugs and big pictures on the walls. Most of them were massive pictures of fancy cars, but some were actual paintings. It was a strange mesh of styles, but all the colors were tied together.

Her bare feet made very little sound as she charged down the hallway. There were so many doors, six on one side, five on the other, all of them were closed. She heard feet running behind her. She cursed and opened the first door, closing it behind her. She closed her eyes and prayed to whomever might listen that they didn’t find her here. Heavy steps pounded past her and she let out the breath that she was holding.

“Hey, chica. You stopped by to say hello?”

The blood froze in Emma’s veins. She didn’t want to look, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was a bedroom, with the same lush red carpet as the hallway. But the walls had been painted a deep, unrelieved black. She turned slowly, feeling the hard flatness of the door behind her back.

Michael was sitting on a king-sized bed, decorated in every shade of black Emma had ever seen. He was wearing a pair of silk pajama pants in a hue so similar that his legs almost looked lost amongst all that fabric. His unclothed chest sported more tattoos than bare skin. The single window behind him had been treated with some sort of plastic that blocked the best of the sunlight from coming in. Not that she thought there was any sunlight, the window was dark.

But not dark enough to hide the glimmer of metal at the edge of the bed sheets. She could see some sort of buckle-restraint system peeking out from beneath the mattress. Her mind fed her terrible images of what a man like Michael would do with a person caught in those restraints.

There was a long table to one side. She recognized some as the variety of whips and other rough-sex playthings you could get at any adult toy store. The others were less playtime worthy. One was a long handled knife with a wicked curved blade. One was a leather strap with beads on the end. The last was a shiny club, like a nightstick.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice was a purr, as if she had walked into a carefully planned seduction.

She didn’t want to find out why.

She grabbed the door handle and pulled. It was nearly open when he slammed himself against her, using her own fumbling body weight to close the door. She slipped to the ground. He reached up and slid a lock into place.

“I just got finished telling my brother how much I wanted to spend some time with you before he sold you off.” He hands caressed down the smoothness of the door, and then cupped her shoulders. He hefted her weight upwards until she was trapped between his body and the door. He wasn’t a tall man, not really. Just tall enough that when he looked at her she couldn’t see anything but his face. “He said I couldn’t have you. That you needed to go to your buyer without my hand prints all over you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh no, see, I believe in divine intervention. Here I was, thinking about all the things I want to do to you, and then you show up in my bedroom. Of all the doors you opened, you had to open mine.”

His hands slid up and down her arms. She felt sick. She tried to pull away but there was nowhere to go.

“Your brother said no.”

“Better to ask forgiveness, chica, than to beg permission.”

“You got it the wrong way.”

“You’ve met my brother, you know better.” He grabbed her and hefted her off the ground. She struggled, but his hands were like vices on her already tender arms. She wanted to fight, she wanted to struggle, but her body was barely cooperating. She was so tired, and her head felt fuzzy. She had been so close to escape.

He tossed her on the bed and she tried to slither to the floor. He grabbed her and tossed her again. When she tried a second time he grabbed her and slammed her against the dark glass beyond the bed so hard she felt it buckle beneath her back.

“Stop it,” he snarled at her. “You deserve this.”

“No, I don’t.” It seemed pointless to argue, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do a damn thing. I didn’t steal your brother’s drugs. I didn’t sell them. I don’t have the money from them and I don’t know how to get it. All I ever did was go to college and you attacked me there.”

Suddenly she was impossibly angry. This was the jerk who had started it all. This man, right here, was the reason she had run home afraid and everything had happened the way it had. He had attacked her, and he thought she deserved whatever sick twisted fantasy he was planning? Oh no, no, siree.

She jerked her leg up, catching him in the chin with the hardest point of her knee. His head rocked back, but he didn’t release her. She did it again, harder this time. She felt something crunch. His hands twitched, and it was just enough for her to jerk out of his grasp.

She fell to the ground and crawled across the bed, a feat made more difficult by the satiny fabric they were made of. She kept slipping backwards. The sensation of it made her realize just how ravaged her skin was. Ravage was not a word she wanted to be thinking of right this second. She scrambled over the bed, and felt his hands wrap around her middle, hauling her backwards. He fell bodily on top of her, pinning her between him and the mattress. He ground his groin against her and she nearly vomited.

“No,” she growled. “No, no, no.”

She reached out, searching for something, anything. Her hand wrapped around the cool metal of a heavy buckle at the end of a long strap of nylon webbing. He grabbed her and rolled her over, his body still pinning hers. She struggled, but that only made him make sounds of enjoyment. She was definitely going to be sick.

She let him explore her chest, his fingers grabbing and pinching and tugging at skin. When he was distracted, she swung. The crack of the metal against his temple coupled with a sick moan. He cursed and grabbed for her wrist. She swung again. A bruise blossomed beneath his tan skin, turning it a dirty copper.

She pulled away, and he stumbled after her. “Come back here.”

“No,” she said thickly. “No, I won’t.”

She scrambled to undo to the lock and open the door and he slapped his hand against it hard enough to jerk the knob out of her hand. It was louder than is should have been, like an explosion. He swung his head around and she cracked her forehead against the thin piece of bone at his other temple. He made a sound and stumbled back.

“I’m going to get you.”

“No, you aren’t.”

She reached for the array of toys and her hand wrapped around the club. She lifted it and swung with whatever force was left in her. Michael’s head jerked to the side. He went down, his chin catching the bedpost on the way. He hit the ground and stayed there. Emma didn’t need to be told that he was dead, she could see it in the loose way that his muscles slumped against the ground.

She ran.

She didn’t see anything as she charged out of that den of sickness and down the hall. She saw stairs, and she took them, not particularly caring where they led her. She heard the shouts of men, and smelled smoke. She paused in her running to get a look at her surroundings.

She was in some kind of dining room. A long table decorated with crystal everything lingered in front of her. The pale light of an overhead bulb illuminated the rims of vases and cups. She knew it wasn’t some overhead light that made them look like molten fire on top of well worked wood. She dragged her gaze up, up and towards the long sliding glass door. She wondered if it was the one she came in through. It had to be, she could see a beautiful in ground pool out there. A mermaid statue spitting water was perched in the very center. Beyond that was fire. The gate that she had come in, or at least a gate, had been blasted open. Fire lingered on the plants and the wood of the guardhouse.

She took a step forward, and saw the flash of gunfire. How had she not heard it before now?

“Kellan.”

She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. He was out there somewhere. He had survived!

“Kellan!” she cried.

She made as if to run when an arm latched around her wrist. The cold circle of a gun was pressed to her back.

“No, no, you don’t.”

Gabriel dragged her back against him, ducking behind the table with the crystal. There was nothing sexual about the way he wrapped his arm around her and held her in place.

“You didn’t kill him.” The laugh that came out of her mouth was wild and half mad. “You thought you did but you didn’t, and now he’s here to save me.”

“Shut up,” he hissed in her ear.

She found she couldn’t. Once she started laughing she couldn’t stop. Everything seemed so wonderfully hilarious. The gun pressed to her back, the fact that she had been nearly raped, Samantha’s treachery, it all seemed like a fantastic joke. In the very, very back of her mind she knew these things were no laughing matter, but shock didn’t really care how you were supposed to feel. It just dealt with all the crazy hormone shifts and did whatever it thought would make you feel better.

“Stop it!” He shook her. It only made her laugh harder. He shook her again and she started to hiccup with the force of her crazed giggling. His hand swung out and connected with her cheek in an open handed slap. “Damn you, woman.”

The laughing stopped. Her ear rung. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“You are going to get me out of here.”

“How?”

He hauled her backwards, and her feet dragged along the carpet. It didn’t feel nice, but none of her body felt nice right now. She felt sick and tired, and all she wanted was to go home and curl up with her husband, whether he thought of himself as her husband or not.

“So there,” she said to her imagination. It made her start to snort again, giggles lay just under the surface of her anxiety.

“What?”

She blinked and tried to lever herself to her feet. “Don’t mind me, I’m not feeling very well. I had a concussion, and then I got all dehydrated, and then I thought everyone I knew or loved was dead because of you. They aren’t, but you know that. Then Samantha hit me, and then I tried to run. I ran right into your brother’s bedroom, did you know that?”

He had led her into a massive garage, seven shiny cars were lined up in a neat set of rows.

“Wow,” she said under her breath. “Those are pretty.”

“What is wrong with you? What did you do to Michael?”

He shook her again, and her head rocked. She really wished he wouldn’t. “Hysterics, probably. That’s what’s wrong with me, I mean. Not your brother. I don’t know what’s wrong with your bother other than the fact that he is a grade A psychopath, or is that sociopath? I get them confused sometimes. One means you don’t—”

He slapped her again and without thinking she slapped him back. She was really tired of people hitting her to keep her from talking, especially when they had been the one to ask her a question in the first place.

“Stop it!” she said, and waved her hand at him. “I’m tired and you need to stop it.”

“I will shoot you.”

“No, you won’t. You just said you need me to get you out of here.”

He growled, and she giggled. He didn’t like her reaction. That was fine, she really didn’t like his either. People were growling a lot today, too, and snapping, and just generally angry. It was like finals week…but with guns and explosions.

“Shut up.”

“What does that actually mean?” she pondered out loud while he dragged her towards one of the sleek cars. “I mean, we shut down computers, but that means to turn off. What does shut up mean? My mom used to hate it when I said shut up, did yours?”

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded as he shoved her in the car.

She giggled again. “I told you, hysterics. When the body hits a certain stress point sometimes—”

“Shut up!”

She sighed and slumped in the seat. It took her a moment to realize she was in the driver’s position.

“Oh, that’s not a good idea.” The passenger door opened and he slid into his seat. “I don’t think I should drive.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

She shifted in the seat again. They were made of a rich buttery leather. She could almost curl up and fall asleep.

“What is wrong with you? I have a gun pointed at you, I might not kill you but I will shoot you in your precious little hands. How many dogs will you save with a gimp hand?”

She blinked at him for a moment. His face was riddled with serious lines. She threw up her hands in surrender before plopping them on the wheel. “Gimp isn’t a very nice word.”

“You are going to argue semantics with me right this moment?”

She giggled again. “I didn’t know you knew the word semantics. I’m proud of you. All right, Miss Daisy, where are we going?”

He hit a button and the engine roared to life. She had to admit there was something very grounding about hearing all that horsepower rumble beneath her. The feel of the stylish wheel beneath one hand and the touch of the gearshift beneath her other pushed the giggles to the very back of her mind. She wanted to drive this thing.

“Just drive, get us out of here.”

“If you say so.”

He opened the garage door and she slapped her bare foot against the gas. The car surged forward. She barely managed to navigate it around the other cars and out of the garage.

“Holy crap!” she cried out. “This thing can move!”

“Take us past the ruined gates.” He motioned to the right with his hand and she followed it. The car was a beautifully made machine. Kellan could keep his bikes; she wanted one of these. She barely needed to touch anything before she felt it respond. A slight tug and the beast was rounding the cement ribbon of his driveway, past the spitting mermaid and through the smoking remnants of the gate. Metal scrapped against fiberglass, making her teeth grind. He set the gun aside and rubbed his temples.

“All right,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Let’s see what this baby can do.”

She jerked the wheel to the left and it made a turn that could have caused a dime to wince. She threw the gears and stomped on her foot again.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Going for a swim.”

He had just picked up the gun again when the car surged over the lip of the pool and crashed into the mermaid. Water spewed everywhere, filling up the small space between her and Gabriel. He reached for the gun. So did she. He found it first. She slapped his hand back beneath the water. She held it there with her foot, and her back pressed to the door.

He shot, but his hand jerked awkwardly. No matter what the movies showed, guns were not really made for firing underwater. It was all physics. There was just as much chance that the gun would fire as it would explode in your hand.

Blood mingled with chlorine as Emma pushed herself against the door. She didn’t panic, not now. She’d had quite enough of hysterical laughter. More physics was coming her way. There was enough water pushing against the door that she didn’t have the strength to actually move it. Maybe if she were feeling better, but not right this moment. She let the fluid rush in, circling around her legs. All she had to do was wait for the pressure on her side of the door to be equal to the pressure on the other side of the door and voilà, it would open.

She waited, but Gabriel didn’t. He tugged her away from the door, hefting the gun up in his uninjured had.

“Oh my god,” she said, “haven’t you had enough?”

“When you’re dead.”

“I am not okay with that.” She slapped at his good hand and the gun tumbled into the back seat.  He went for it and she slapped her weight into his lap to keep him pinned there.

“Get off of me.” He tossed her forward.

“Funny, that’s what I told your brother before I beat him to death.”

His rage filled the car faster than the water. He wrapped his hands around her neck and started to choke her. She kicked at him, struggled with him, but he wasn’t his brother to be distracted by her girlish terror. He was a very angry man. He slapped her against the dashboard. Her already hurting back cried out at the continued abuse.

Her vision went hazy around the edges. The nearly forgotten headache swam up behind her eyes, making them feel too big for her head. Everything hurt, and then the hurt began to go numb. That couldn’t be good. Suddenly Emma was very sure she was going to die. “Stop,” she managed.

He didn’t. He pushed harder.

It only took five pounds of direct pressure to break a bone. There was a little bone in the throat that broke when a person got choked, it was supposed to be more detrimental to survival than the actual choking.

“Kellan,” she whispered.

The water rushed up around the two of them, lifting them inside the cabin. It helped with some of the pressure. He pushed her downwards, the water puddled around her ears. She took the deepest breath his hands would allow.

“He’s not here.”

Somewhere, glass broke. Gabriel’s head jerked to the side, his mouth went slack. Those hawk eyes rolled backwards and his grip on her neck relaxed. When his body slumped to the side she saw a bullet wound just behind his eye.

She didn’t take time to be grateful that she could breathe. With the water rushing in she wouldn’t be able to do that for very long. She kicked out at the door again and again but it wouldn’t but it wouldn’t budge. The car had sunk too deep. There was too much pressure on the outside. God, how deep was this pool? She shifted her attention to the window. Had it been a roll down window she would have been fine, but it was the automatic kind and the engine was no longer a help. She kicked, and kicked, and kicked again. It slipped down inside the slot a half an inch. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Emma wrapped her bruised fingers over the fake glass and shoved it down, it gave, little by little, but it wasn’t fast enough.

She took a breath deep enough to make her lungs burn. She pushed, down and down. The window gave and she slithered through it. The water wasn’t cold, it was hot, and a thick substance was leaking out of the car. She swam away from it. Her body carried her up until she breached the surface, not half so pretty as the mermaid had been, but very much alive.

A very pale hand reached out to her. She smiled and took it.

“Hello, Phantom.”

“Emma.” He nodded. “Is he dead?”

“Yes.” Her heart sank. “Did you? Were you the one who shot him?”

Phantom shook his head and pointed. Emma couldn’t see Kellan, not exactly. But there, perched in a tree, was a small glimmer of light, and the outline of a man against a trunk.

She didn’t think she ran for that spot. Her aching and wounded legs felt nothing as she charged across wet concrete and the burning remains of a dead drug dealer’s gate. Modern materials gave way to pine needles and branches. She clamored up the hill, even as the shape jumped down from the tree.

“Kellan, oh god, Kellan!”

He came out of the forest like a dark-haired specter. Obsidian curls swam around his angular face. His jeans hung low on his hips, as if they were too big, but she saw they were only torn. His vest hung around his chest.

“Come here.” His strong arms wrapped around her, and he hefted her off the ground. She felt like she was flying when he swung her in a circle. Somehow his mouth found hers. He kissed her like he would eat her from her lips down. Right this moment, she would have been perfectly okay with that. He kissed her until neither of them could breathe. “Let me see you. Dammit, let me look at you.”

His hands kept her face and she winced. “Careful, please. I’m a little burnt”

“Emma, what happened? Was it Gabriel?” If his voice had been a knife, it would have cut her. “He’s dead. I killed him.”

She shook her head, not sure if he was telling her he had shot Gabriel or reminding himself. “I know you did, thank you. But not all of this was him, no.”

Her answer did nothing to alleviate his blooming wrath. Anger, hot and visceral, flickered through his eyes. “Where is Michael?”

“Dead,” she whispered, barely willing to bring herself to say it. “I killed him. Oh god.”

Saying it somehow made it more real. She had seen it, watched his body fall to the ground in that dead-man’s slump. Still, now that the truth of it had come out of her lips she couldn’t stop herself from remembering it over and over again. It was real. It had happened. Her legs wouldn’t hold her up.

His arms tightened around her, dragging her to the comforting line of his chest. She took in the scent of him, drowned herself in it. She had no tears, but she sobbed anyway. Deep, guttural sounds ripped through her until she couldn’t breathe. “I thought you were dead!” she managed when the tightness in her chest eased. “I saw a video of the clubhouse. They said there were no survivors.”

“Some of them did die.”

“Who?” she demanded, stepping back from the comfort that he offered. “Who died?”

He hesitated before telling her. “Vinny, Joe, a few others. And Leon.”

“Leon?” she whispered softly. “He’s really dead?”

“Yeah, he is. I’m sorry, Emma. I really am.”

She couldn’t take much more tonight, but she had to ask. “Rudy?”

“He’s fine, and Phantom. The three of us are all that’s left right now.”

She nodded slowly. It was something. It wasn’t much but right now she would take anything. Phantom, the boy who had saved her, was alive. He had pulled her out of the pool. She hadn’t seen Rudy, but she was willing to take Kellan’s promise that he was somewhere.

“Okay.” She managed to clear her throat. “Okay, I’m here. You’re here. We aren’t dead.”

“That’s right. We can rebuild everything else. I’ve got you, Emma. I’m right here,” he whispered against the wet mat of her hair. “Tell me what happened.”

“It is a very, very long story, but I need to go to the doctor. I got hit in the head. I got hit in the head a lot. Samantha even hit me.”

He blinked down at her. “Samantha?”

He didn’t know, she realized. Even now he didn’t know everything that had happened. She managed to tell him, pausing every now and then to explain what she had seen and what Samantha had told her. “I don’t know where she is now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he promised, “all that matters is you are safe. We need to get going. A lot of cops might not come up this way, but an explosion is going to bring bodies.”

“All right, but I still need to go to an ER.” 

“Anything you want, Emma. God, anything.” He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing one set of knuckles and then the other. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t want to say it before, I love you.”

She took one of her hands from his and put it against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

Chapter 18

Emma didn’t relax until she heard the familiar sounds of a medical center. Sure, hospitals didn’t have as much howling or squawking, but there was enough that she could let herself linger in the curve of Kellan’s arm. He answered all of the police officer’s questions. Some of what he said was lies, some was real, all of it was easy to forget when the doctor waved Kellan aside and started the impersonal process of making sure she wasn’t going to die.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Kellan seemed to grow two sizes, taking up more space than his body was actually capable of. “Why?”

The doctor looked completely unimpressed. “Because you are bleeding on my floor. Go get yourself seen to.”

Kellan had the good sense to look sheepish. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

The doctor blinked at him owlishly until he left the room. The whisper of an air conditioning unit pumping into the room made Emma lay back against the crinkle of medical paper that protected the bed and made for easy clean up. It felt so good to lie down.

“I have to ask,” the doctor said once the door was closed, “did your husband do this to you?”

Emma blinked twice before she understood exactly what the doctor was asking. “Oh, no. No. I mean, Kellan and I might yell at once another, but not this.”

“I’m going to assume that the cock-n-bull story he just gave to the nice police officer in the emergency room was fake.”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality?” Emma asked.

“As far as it will stretch.”

Emma sat up again, her muscles screamed in protest. She settled into a position and held as still as possible. She looked into the doctor’s dark eyes, took a deep breath, and told her everything from the night that she was attacked in her dorm room until the moment that she stepped into the emergency room. She knew doctor-patient privilege would only cover some of the crimes, but she needed to talk.

“Well,” she said after the story ended. “That’s what happened.”

“I don’t know if I should believe you or toss you in a nut house.”

Emma shrugged a shoulder. “At the end of the day, doc, it’s entirely up to you. You could go out there and get that cop. Federal crimes aren’t covered by privilege.”

“Do you plan on making a habit of killing a would-be rapist?”

“I really, really hope not. All I want to do is go to college, open a practice, and have a simple life.”

The doctor motioned towards the door Kellan had left through. “You think you are going to get that when you are walking around with that?” 

Emma didn’t just answer. She thought about it. There was a chance that being with Kellan another night like this might happen. Actually, odds were definitely on it. Even so, Emma couldn’t bring herself to walk away, not after he rescued her, not after he admitted to loving her.

“Doc, I have loved that boy since I was sixteen years old. I can’t help that. I can, however, make the best life with him that I can.”

The doctor eyed her again and then sighed. “All right, if the officer asks, I will just tell him you stuck to your husband’s story. That aside, how are you feeling?”

“I have a concussion. It started off mild but the accident exacerbated the problem.”

Her cool dark fingers investigated the bump. “Exacerbated, huh? You said you were going to open a practice? Are you a doctor?”

“Vet, or I will be when I finish school.”

“How long do you have?” the woman asked. She looked more concerned than interested.

“Just a semester. I might take this one off. My dad just died, and I just got married, and then all of this.”

“Mm-hmm. Might be a good idea. You never know how much stress can affect your studies.” She picked up a clipboard and settled it professionally against her arm. “All right, let’s go over the basics. Open and say ah.”

Emma did all of it. She got her heart listened to, got her ears checked, her eyes looked over. It felt good to just be able to do what she was told, to sit back and let someone else act. She had done too much action tonight.

“What was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

Emma told her, then added, “But the pregnancy test came back negative.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to confirm that. You are going to need some medication for all your bumps and bruises. I don’t want to give you anything that could potentially hurt you.”

Emma found herself frowning. “I hate to say this, but with everything that happened to me tonight there is no chance that a baby would stick around.”

The doctor shrugged and patted her shoulder. “Better safe than not.” 

It was, Emma decided, a good thing that the doctor had taken that test. At the end of the day all she could prescribe was a few tablets of Tylenol.

“What?” Kellan asked, having returned to the room after his hip had been stitched up. “What do you mean Tylenol?”

The doctor took a deep breath and shared a look with Emma. Without another word she stepped out. Emma reached for Kellan’s hand. There were a million ways she might have been able to tell him what was going on. Poetic statements and flowery phrases that might have worked with a different kind of man, but none of them were for Kellan.

“I’m pregnant,” she said softly. “I’m going to have a baby. If you want to, we are going to have a baby.”

He stared at her with open-mouthed disbelief. “What? How?”

She raised her brow at him. “I was pretty sure you understood the mechanics of the whole thing.”

He took his hand out of hers and walked in a little circle. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. Emma, I love you, I meant it when I said it and I mean it now, but I would be a terrible father.”

“Why?” she asked as gently as she could. “What makes you so sure?”

“My father—”

She cut him off because she didn’t want to hear it again. “Your father was his own person. He was a terrible person but he wasn’t you. My father was a biker, a high school dropout, a criminal, a killer, and a thief. Of all of those things, I’m only one of them.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Get over yourself,” she said flatly. On a different day she might have held her arms out to him and let him cry, but it had been too long a night with too many emotions for her to hold his hand through this particular one. “Because you are going to be a dad.”

He flopped down into a seat and held his head in his hands. He was shaking and she could see it. She made a small sound. Apparently she would have to do some handholding anyway. She held her fingers out to him and motioned him over.

“Kellan, I love you. I love you so very much. You are stubborn, and difficult, and arrogant, and you manage people the way other people manage money. But you think very little of yourself where it matters most. You rushed in to rescue me, to do the thing that needed to be done even though you didn’t know what might happen to you. If that’s not fatherhood material, I don’t know what is.”

“What if I mess up?”

She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Then I’ll be there to set it all right.”

“I don’t know if I am ready.”

She pulled him towards her, and placed her lips gently against his. “You’ll be ready.”

For the first time since she told him the news a flicker of hope and happiness moved across his face. His lips teased up in a tiny grin. “You know, if we weren’t already married, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Well,” she said, her lips splitting into a truly amused grin, “it’s a good thing we already got that covered.”

Chapter 19

The smell of burgers and hot dogs wafted through the deep summer heat nearly a year later. Rocco, whose fur had almost recovered from the cast he had hobbled around in for too many months, circled the grill with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His tail thumped against the dirt in hope.

“What do you want?” Kellan asked, flopping down in a nearby chair and resting the heel of one foot on the toe of the other. “You know burgers are bad for you. Emma says so all the time.”

“What?” a low country drawl said as the meat flipped on top of the grill. “A li’l bit’a meat never killed none of my hounds I tell ya. Gave them just a little bit with their dinner. Besides, what is in all that fancy meat at the grocery store? Tofu? Naw.”

“Whatever you say, Wayne.”

The man turned around, the Prospect patch clear on his chest. His shot hair was half hidden beneath an honest to god cowboy hat. He tipped it in Kellan’s direction and gave a big grin. “I mean, what would happen if I just happened to drop a piece on the ground?”

Rocco circled around, his tail flopping back and forth, back and forth. He gave a yip of demand before a fat piece of meat rolled of the grill and landed at his feet. Rocco was just about to demolish it when a golden blur beat him to it.

Kellan laughed. “Look at that, old dog, the pup beat you two it.”

The younger dog, who had the look of a golden retriever and something far hairier rolled, onto his back, and onto the discarded burger.

“Samantha!”

The pup, hearing her name called with a very stern voice, sprang to its feet and rolled over. A large hunk of food clung to her fur. She gave a shrill and youthful bark before charging across the yard towards the open backdoor and the woman who stood there. His heart did a slow twitch in his chest that made him feel breathless.

The real Samantha was locked up in the women's state prison. Apparently she had been helping the brothers sell of plenty of young pretty girls to the highest bidder. Kellan hadn't understood why Emma had wanted to name a good dog after such a horrible person, and when he had ask she had just fixed him with a smile and shrugged. “Because she's a bitch.”

His woman had the strangest sense of humor.

Emma had tossed her hair into a messy tail at the top of her head, decked out in medical scrubs. A simple golden band sat on her finger, matching the one that sat on his. Her work outfit was pink, and made her face look flushed and happy. Though that might have also been because of the baby positioned on her hip.

The hair was as black and curly as his own, but the eyes that twinkled out of that tiny, round face were the same blue as Emma’s.

“Can you come help me?”

It wasn’t really a question, and they both knew it. He tilted his head at Wayne and raised a beer in salute. “Man the grill. My woman wants me.”

Wayne tipped his hat again and called out for Sargent, a middle-aged man whose arms were speckled with Naval images, including the Marines symbol on his visible bicep. He dragged a much younger man, nearly as skinny as Kellan’s thigh, to plop down around the grill in camaraderie.

He headed inside, taking his time to get there. He paused long enough near the back door to tell Phantom to make sure the new guys didn’t set anything of fire. There were only six Beasts now, and he didn’t much want to lose any of them. There had been enough of that. 

“Hey,” Rudy said when Kellan stepped through the door, “your wife was looking for you.”

“So I heard, where’s yours?”

“Being a whale,” Hannah called from the living room. She hefted not only herself and a child, but a very pregnant belly. “My feet feel huge.”

“You should be resting.” Rudy tried to guide his wife into a chair, but she was having none of it.

“I’m pregnant, not dying. I want a salad and five hamburgers.” She placed a hand on her back. “Kellan, Emma was—”

“Looking for me, so I hear.” He stopped and gave Hannah a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t you let this big oaf push you around.”

“Never.” She winked at him and motioned him on. “Get on with you, Emma looked ready to throttle something.”

He made his way down the hall and found Emma in the bedroom. For a moment all he did was watch her. Childbirth and a comfortable life had added a bit of curve to her hips. He fought an urge to bury his teeth in them. Being a mom definitely suited her.

The baby was laid out on the bed, a diaper and diaper cream laid up next to him. He had one foot gripped in one hand, and was currently trying to bring it to his mouth.

Emma adjusted her ponytail, plopped her keys into a bag, and turned to him.

“You rang?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorway.

“Took you long enough,” she fussed. She was distracted as she turned to look in the mirror. “It’s your turn to change Leon. I need to get ready for work.”

Kellan smirked and wandered over to the baby, tugging the plump foot out of his toothless mouth. “Hey there. Hey there, little guy.”

He took his time with Leon. It had taken him weeks to master the act of putting a diaper on a squirming baby. Kids, he had decided after the first month, had no desire to wear clothes or do much of anything. When everything was back where it should be, he hefted Leon up to give him a hug. Emma was watching him. There were tears in her eyes.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You are such an idiot.”

He blinked. “I missed something. What happened.”

She slapped a hand against his arm. “You thought you were going to be a bad father. You’re an idiot.”

He laughed softly and wrapped an arm around her back, tugging her close. “I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” she whispered, pulling his head down to give him a kiss.

“I love you, too.”

THE END

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More by April Lust

DEFILED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Wicked Bones MC)

I’M GOING TO DEFILE THAT PRETTY LITTLE FACE.

She hired me to protect her.

But I’m going to ruin her instead.

Bare naked and dripping wet – that’s the only way for a girl like her to be.

And when she’s tied up in front of me, I just can’t help but dive in.

She thought she had problems before I arrived.

But some pervy little stalker is nothing compared to a man like me.

Unlike him, I’m not content to just creep in the shadows and watch her.

I need to touch.

To taste.

To take total f*cking control.

And I’m not going to rest until I have it.

Correction: until I have her.

We can play this game of pretend for a little bit.

She pretends not to want me.

I’ll pretend to keep my head down and do my job.

But we both know the truth:

As soon as the lights go down,

I’m coming to take what’s mine.

Mind, body, soul – she belongs to me now.

And I’m gonna find her breaking point.

CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Angel’s Keepers MC)

Daddy’s about to show his pet how it feels to be corrupted.

There’s a price to pay for venturing where you don’t belong.

And she’s about to learn that the hard way.

I’m going to f*ck a baby into her sexy little body…

Just to show her that purity lost can never be regained.

Angels like her should stay far away from hellholes like this.

But Little Miss Priss thought she could handle herself.

Too bad she wasn’t ready for me.

To be fair, not many girls are.

I’m too much for any lone woman to handle.

With biceps like tree trunks and a c*ck like a python –

not to mention a world-class filthy mouth to go along with it –

a night with me leaves scars that last a lifetime.

And yet, she wanted to take me for a ride.

I let her think she had a chance of walking away unscathed.

And then I did what I do best:

F*cked her until she could barely walk.

But this one deserved an extra special treat…

My baby in her belly.

If only I knew all the trouble that would bring.

WRECKED: The Beasts MC

I’M GOING TO WRECK HER TIGHT LITTLE BODY.

A wife was the last thing I wanted.

But when your MC president gives you an order, you don’t question it.

Fine. I’ll marry his daughter.

But while she’s mine, I’m going to f*ck her ‘til she shatters.

President Mac is right about one thing:

His daughter Emma will be safe from his enemies as long as she’s my wife.

But she won’t be safe from my strong hands or my massive c*ck.

I’ve been through hell and back in my time as a rider.

There’s not a damn man on this planet with balls big enough to challenge me.

Under my protection, no one will lay a hand on Mac’s precious daughter.

Except for me.

I’m going to lay hands all over her.

On her thighs.

Between her lips.

Over every gorgeous curve.

She might be scared of me – in fact, I know she is.

But I just don’t give a damn.

She’s my wife.

My toy.

My property.

For as long as her body can handle my darkest desires.

His Broken Angel: Inferno Hunters MC

Breaking this angel will be my finest work yet.

She deserves a better man than me.

But that won’t stop me from making her mine.

Her ex-husband is determined to take back Ellie and her daughter.

Too bad he’ll have to go through me to get them.

I’ve suffered losses that would’ve destroyed a weaker man.

I survived, but I left my emotions in the past.

I’m all stone now.

Cold.

Hard.

Unyielding.

Until Ellie walks in.

Seeing her awakens something in me I thought had died long ago.

And the sight of her little daughter stirs a protective instinct I never knew I had.

From the moment our eyes meet, I know one thing for sure:

They both belong to me now.

She tries to brush me off.

She’s got demons of her own, hot on her trail, and she’s scared that I’ll only make things worse.

But her resistance is like a drug to me.

I’ve had a taste of her, and I’m ready for the rest.

“No” is not an option.

And when her ex-husband tries to recapture the family he lost,

I know what I must do.

These two angels are mine now.

And not even Satan himself could take them from me.

His Perfect Angel: Shadow Reapers MC

I just bought my perfect angel, and now I’ll use her as I please.

Nora’s boyfriend was a lowlife. She deserved better. She deserved me.

So I bought her.

Now, I’ve got her tied naked to my bed. She’ll be whatever I want her to be:

A toy. A hobby. And a vessel for my baby.

Nora was a good girl in a bad situation.

She fell for the wrong loser, and before she knew it, her life was a mess of lying to cops and suffering her scumbag boyfriend’s abuse.

But then she walked into my MC’s den, and everything changed.

I didn’t just want to have her; I needed to have her.

That flawless skin deserved to bear my ink.

That flawless mouth deserved to give me pleasure.

And that flawless belly deserved to grow heavy with my seed.

It didn’t take much for me to get what I desired.

And once the money changed hands and her now-ex-boyfriend is booted unceremoniously out the door, it’s just her and I alone together.

Her clothes will come off.

Her legs will spread open.

And I will use her to get the son I’ve always wanted.

His Precious Angel: Steel Gods MC

My precious angel will do what I say… or she’ll face the consequences.

I’m supposed to bring her back home, whether or not she likes it.

But Nicolette is desperate to stay away from the Steel Gods MC.

She offers up her body to me – whatever it takes to retain her freedom.

Now, I’m faced with a choice: do I finish the job and reel her back in – or keep her for myself?

I’m a bounty hunter, not a detective.

It’s not my job to ask questions.

So, when my MC president tells me to go retrieve his runaway girlfriend, I get on my chopper and track her down.

But it’s never that easy.

For starters, she’s a stone-cold stunner.

I’m having trouble sleeping at night – my head is too occupied imagining how it would feel to tear her clothes away and bend her over my bed.

And as I follow her trail, I learn that there are secrets contained in that pretty little body.

Secrets like hidden scars.

Secrets like bruises from the man I’m bringing her back to.

And beneath all of that… an unborn baby.

I’m risking my patch and my brotherhood if I do the things I want to do to her.

But screw it…

This one is mine now.

His Little Angel: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

I’ll slaughter anyone who lays a hand on my little angel.

Cowards crave affection. Alphas crave control.

The waitress seemed timid, until I showed her the power that lies in submission.

But if I’d known who she was, I would have stayed the hell away.

She’s the daughter of a mobster… and now, she’s pregnant with my child.

I’m a shark in this murky underworld – cold, calculated, and as ruthless as they come.

When I saw the innocent girl in the bar, I simply followed my instincts…

And I feasted.

Her moans are still echoing in my head when I leave.

I go to my father, the most powerful mob boss in the city, only for him to drop the mother of all bombs on me.

Isabella was no random girl, he says.

She is the daughter of a dead mobster, and there are men out to kill her for her vast inheritance.

I’d thought her body was merely a momentary pleasure… but as it turns out, it’s the key to the future – both hers and mine.

I track her down just in the nick of time, fighting off two assassins to keep her safe.

That’s the end of things, or so I thought.

But she reveals yet another surprise.

There’s another life at stake here:

The baby growing in her womb.

I’ve never had anything worth protecting before.

But now I have two lives to safeguard.

And if these bastards come anywhere near my little angels,

It’ll be the last thing they ever do.

SINNER’S PASSION: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

I might go to hell for the things I’ve done… but I’m going to take her with me.

I didn’t ask to be a f*cking babysitter.

Especially not for a celebrity brat with a mouth that needs taming.

I know it’s wrong to punish her. To tie her up. To tease, tempt, claim.

But the thing is… I just don’t give a damn.

I didn’t ask to be a hero. I just did what had to be done.

I’ve never been afraid to shed blood, and this night was no different.

Once I’d rescued the poor girl from the creep who was on top of her, my job was done, as far as I was concerned.

But my MC president had other ideas.

Before I can argue, I’m forced into following this girl around like I’m her f*cking shadow.

I’m supposed to be a “bodyguard,” not a puppy desperate for attention.

This sh*t is humiliating.

And this girl pushes my buttons in all the wrong ways.

She’d better be careful, though…

Because if she goes too far,

I’m going to chain her to my bed and start pushing all of hers.

SINNER’S TOUCH: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

I have a past I cannot escape.

My ex is a criminal who refuses to leave me alone.

I run. He finds me. He punishes me.

I’ve been too scared to fight back… until I met Pax.

Until I succumbed to his sinner’s touch.

Pax is a former soldier with enough skeletons in his closet to fill a graveyard. But he’s got a jawline that could cut steel, and abs hard enough to stop a runaway train. And when he sees the hunger in my eyes…

He pounces.

He tells me I’m safe in his arms, and it’s so tempting to believe.

With his hands on my waist or his mouth between my thighs, the world feels warm and safe and alive. Everything I always dreamed it could be.

But I know what my ex is capable of. As long as he’s around, pain and suffering are lurking just around the corner.

This fairytale is doomed to end in agony.

SINNER’S KISS: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

She’s addicted to my sinner’s kiss.

What doesn’t kill a man makes him stronger.

If that’s true, I must be f*ckin’ Hercules, because I’ve been on death’s doorstep more times than I can count.

This time, though, I might not be coming back.

It’s not as though I don’t deserve death.

God knows I’ve ended enough lives with my own two hands.

I’ve spilled blood, hot and spurting, and laughed at the sight of it.

Maybe this was my fate all along.

But out of nowhere, she showed up.

A guardian angel if ever there was one.

Pure, sweet, and kind – those things don’t exist in my world.

Seeing those pretty eyes was like a breath of fresh air for a drowning man.

But now that she’s saved, the tables have turned.

My angel is about to learn that hell is just a state of mind.

She’s mine now. And I’m never letting her go.

SINNER’S LUST: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

My heart is as hard as my c*ck.

The day my wife left me, I swore I’d never love again.

I’d do one thing and one thing only: F*ck and leave.

F*ck and leave, f*ck and leave, over and over again.

Like a prayer, like a mantra.

As long as I could bury myself in some pretty little thing,

I could ignore the carnage she’d left in her wake.

But life has a funny way of forcing you to face that which you least desire.

A chance encounter, a woman in need of my help…

And of course, who is it?

Her.

That fickle b*tch.

That heartless whore.

I want to do to her body what she did to my heart:

Tear, plunder, destroy.

I want to wrench her hair back and make her scream my name.

I want to leave the imprint of my hand on her flawless skin.

I want to own her completely.

But she has shadows following close behind her.

Men who hunger for repayment in flesh.

They want her as badly as I do.

I have only one thing to say to them:

Too damn bad.

I will not rest until my lust is sated.

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