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“She’s at my side the whole time.”
Rourke gave a sharp nod. “Done, man.”
“I’m not fucking around, Rourke.”
Rourke nodded. “We’ll have her flanked—you on one side, me on the other. Giving you my word, ain’t nothing happening you don’t want, and if Kase has a problem with it, he can take it up with you.” He nodded. “And me.”
****
“And there it is,” Cheyenne muttered as she crept back to the bed. She had spent the last ten minutes with her ear pressed against the door. She folded her leg and sat on her foot, allowing the other to dangle off the bed. He had been given a choice, and he’d made it.
Club 1, Her 0.
She was a fool for thinking it would have turned out any differently. Of course, he would do what the club wanted. He’d made it clear how important it was to him. It was his life. And she wasn’t.
Who was she to him anyway? Sure, they were great in bed and being with him last night, just talking, definitely sparked something other than arousal. He seemed so damn sincere when he’d spoken of protecting her and asking for forgiveness. And I fell for it. She liked him too much. It would end badly for her. She shook her head and nibbled on the inside of her mouth. The club would win every time. No matter what she thought she meant to him, the club would always come first.
She jerked her head when she heard the floor creak. The knob turned slowly, and he stopped in mid-step. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She raised her brows.
“Hi.”
“Thought you’d still be sleeping.”
She clamped her lips together to form an awkward smile. He had to know she’d heard everything. Maybe he expected her to just volunteer to go into the club. That wasn’t happening. She was done with the Ghosttown Riders.
Trax eyed her as he came closer, dragging his hand through his hair and gripping at the back of his neck. “So, listen…”
“I don’t want to,” she blurted, not even sure where the assertive voice came from. It didn’t even sound like hers. She stood and shook her head. “And you can’t make me, Trax.”
She inhaled deeply, but it was shaky on the exhale. Could he make her? Would he be willing to drag her down to the club even if she refused? She had no clue because, honestly, she didn’t even really know Trax, and the small admission not only scared her but saddened her. She was getting involved and attached to a man she didn’t even know.
His hand dropped from his neck down to his side. She couldn’t read his face to get an idea of what he was thinking. The corner of his mouth curled, and he crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels. She was surprised when he burst out laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he heaved forward, releasing a hearty laugh. His eyes moistened, and his teeth gleamed from his open-mouthed smile. Cheyenne couldn’t help but smile back, even though she couldn’t see the humor in the situation.
“I don’t get it. Why are you laughing?”
Trax wiped his cheek and then shoved his hands into his pockets. He stared at her with such ease. “Wasn’t lying when I said Mick woulda liked ya. But that there, ‘You can’t make me?’” He chuckled. “Definitely something his old lady woulda said.” He lifted his brows. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she has said that when I’ve been around.”
“How did Mick respond?”
Trax shrugged. “Meg don’t wanna do something, nobody alive can make her do it. Mick knew and wouldn’t have even tried.”
Cheyenne gazed down at the floor. She didn’t know Meg well, but she didn’t seem like the type to be told what to do.
“Wouldn’t do that to you either, Chey.”
She jerked her head up. His eyes softened, and he lifted his finger, calling for her to come closer. She stepped toward him, and before she could reach him, his arm circled her back and her breasts crushed against his chest. His mouth descended on her, taking her lips for a sultry, warm, arousing kiss. She gripped his neck, not wanting it to end too soon. She loved kissing this man. His teeth playfully nibbled her bottom lip before he grazed his tongue along the seam of her mouth. If he was trying to convince her by seduction, it may have been working.
He pulled away slightly, peppering soft kisses to her lips and then resting his forehead against hers. “Won’t make ya do anything. Ever.” He held her stare, and she had the feeling he wouldn’t, but she also knew he wasn’t done speaking. “I know you heard us, right?”
She nodded. Lying was useless.
“So ya heard Rourke say it. You’re the only person who can help us find the guy who killed Mick.”
“Trax.” She sighed. What he’d said might be true, but the thought of going into the club again had her heart racing and fear spiking.
“Not knowing who he is or why he did it leaves us all in danger. What if he comes for me next?”
Oh hell! Now he was using guilt? She pulled away, but he refused to let her an inch away. His fingers dug into her back.
