Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Her eyebrows lift. “That sounds very controlling. In a hot way. Wait. Did I say that out loud? I definitely said that out loud. Ignore me. I blame the blood loss. And the fact that you look like you could snap a man in half but also have really nice forearms. Sorry. I’ll stop talking now.”
She presses her lips together like she’s physically holding back more words. The effort makes her even cuter. I turn away before I do something stupid like kiss that nervous smile off her face. Gunny waits outside the door. His eyes narrow when he sees how close I stand to his daughter. Good. He should worry. I don’t trust myself right now either.
We move her into a room at the back of the clubhouse. I set her backpack on the bed. She sits on the edge of the mattress and swings her legs. The movement makes her shirt ride up slightly. A strip of soft skin shows above her jeans. My hands itch to touch it. I shove them into my pockets.
“Get some rest,” I order. “We talk more in the morning.”
She nods. Her fingers twist in the blanket. “Thank you. For not throwing me out. Or laughing at my socks.”
I almost smile. The urge shocks me. I turn and leave before she sees it. The door shuts behind me with a solid click. I lean against the wall in the hallway. My heart pounds heavy. The scent of her still clings to my hands. I want to go back in there. I want to crowd her against that bed and show her exactly how possessive I can get. Instead I walk away. Hard. Angry at myself for the weakness.
The main room still buzzes with tension. Mace waits near the bar. Ghost stands silent by the pool table. I join them. The whiskey tastes sharp on my tongue when I take a glass. It burns down my throat but does nothing to erase the memory of her.
“We have a problem inside the club,” I say low. “And now we have her. Gunny’s daughter. Someone’s stalking her. The timing lines up too clean with the shipment and the driver.”
Mace nods. His beard scratches against his shirt. “You think it’s connected?”
“Maybe.”
Ghost’s eyes stay cold. “She’s a liability.”
She’s more than that. She’s a fucking distraction I can’t afford. Her smile and soft voice keep replaying in my head. The way she looked at me like I was both terrifying and fascinating. I want to own that look. I want to make her say my name while I bury myself deep inside her. The thoughts rage through me. I slam the glass down harder than I mean to. Whiskey sloshes over the side.
“Keep eyes on her at all times,” I order. “She doesn’t leave the compound. She doesn’t talk to anyone without me present. She’s under my protection now.”
The words feel heavy. I mean them more than I should. Gunny left fifteen minutes ago after I promised to keep her safe. The club locks down tighter. Brothers patrol the perimeter. Engines rumble low in the night. I walk the fence line myself. The air carries salt and distant rain. Mud sucks at my boots. Every shadow makes me think of her. Her injured ankle. Her nervous laugh. The way her body felt under my hand.
I stop near the west gate. The razor wire glints under the lights. Somewhere out there enemies circle closer. They took our shipment. They hung our driver like meat. Now they watch Gunny’s daughter. My fists clench. No one touches what’s mine. And Tia feels like mine already. The realization burns. I shouldn’t want her. She’s soft where my world is hard. Cute where everything around me stays brutal. Yet every word out of her mouth makes me want to drag her into the darkness and keep her there.
I return to the clubhouse. My boots carry me back to the office. Screens glow with shipment logs and perimeter feeds. The numbers blur. All I see is Tia’s face. Her wide eyes. The flush on her cheeks when she called my forearms nice. A low roar builds in my chest. I slam a fist on the desk. The wood cracks under the force.
Mace appears in the doorway. “Prez. We got movement on the outer road. Two vehicles. Holding position.”
I straighten. The distraction pulls me back into the war. Good. I need it. “Send Ghost and two prospects. Watch them close. No engagement unless they cross the line.”
He nods and leaves. I sit behind the desk. The chair groans under my weight. Hours pass slow. I review logs until my eyes burn. Every few minutes my mind drifts back to her. The way she limped beside me. The ridiculous stories she spills when nervous. I should focus on the threat. The missing shipment. Odin. The possibility of a rat inside my club. Instead I keep seeing her small hand tracing that cartoon kraken on her backpack.