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And when Hannah watched the life start to fade from Landon’s eyes, as his eyes became unfocused, as he opened and closed his mouth as if his body was on autopilot and desperate for oxygen, that was when Scars leaned forward. His mouth was by Landon’s ear, and she heard the low, deep laugh come from the man who she’d fallen irrevocably for.
“You come after what is mine, you look into the very devil’s eyes.” Scars pulled back then and locked eyes with Landon, and after a tense second, Landon’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp. Scars held him off the ground for long moments, and Hannah knew she’d just watched the life leave Landon. And even though she should feel horrified, the only thing that kept moving through her head was what Scars had just said.
Scars dropped Landon to the ground, his body slamming against the wooden floor loud enough it echoed in her ears. She was frozen in place as she stared at the very dead body. His eyes were open, the whites visible as he stared at the ceiling.
She didn’t know how long she stood there. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. And then she blinked and lifted her gaze from Landon to see Scars watching her. His expression was guarded, his body so big, so powerful. He’d taken a life with his bare hands, using his power as if Landon had been nothing but an annoying fly.
He saved her for a second time.
The tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked several times. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see straight… couldn’t feel any part of her as she stared into Scars’ eyes.
“Come here,” Scars said gruffly, and she found herself moving automatically. She needed his warmth and touch. Hannah let him pull her into the safety, the warmth of his big, scarred, muscular body. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
No, he wouldn’t. Scars had done what she should have all those weeks ago.
“What happens next?” she whispered.
“I have my boys come up here and clean it up. That’s it. Done and over with. End of the chapter, end of that fucking nightmare.”
Scars pulled her in tighter, harder, as if he was afraid she’d leave him. He held her, stroked his big hand down her head and over her back.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, and she felt herself falling apart in this man’s arms. Did he know how he made her feel, the intensity in which she let herself fall for him? Could she ever feel this again if he didn’t want her the way she wanted him?
“Don’t let go,” she begged, clutching at him. He held her tighter.
“Never. I’m never letting go of you.”
And as she shook and cried, as Scars held her and soothed her, whispering incoherent things that she knew were meant to ease her but just made her cry harder, she didn’t know what else to do but clutch him.
She wasn’t crying out of sadness, wasn’t crying because she was still scared. She cried, because she’d never felt so… free.
And she knew there wasn’t any other place she'd want to be than right here in this man’s arms.18It had been several hours since the fucking Landon situation. An hour since Scars called his club and had them clean up this fucking mess. They’d been fast and efficient, and he’d kept his eyes on Hannah the entire time. She’d been in shock, her arms around her waist as she watched them take the body out. He shouldn’t have exposed her to this shit, but she was his now, and this was his life. But he did regret telling his men instructions close enough she’d been able to hear.
“Take this piece of shit out of here.”
“You know what to do with it.”
“He won’t be missed, and if he is, they won’t know where to find the pieces.”
He’d seen the way she tensed, and in that second, he hated that this was his life.
He told her a little bit about his club, about the Vicious Bastards MC. He told her enough that she knew who and what he was. And she stayed by his side still.
But would she now, after seeing him kill a man, after watching his brothers haul the motherfucker out of the cabin?
And now here they were in bed, his arms wrapped around her as he just held her. They’d been like this for an hour, and with each passing second, he felt her relax further, move closer to him, and sigh in almost relief.
“You doing okay?” he asked softly, his hand moving up and down her arm in gentle sweeps.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was soft, and he tightened his hold on her.
“Are you upset he’s gone?” He didn’t want to know, if he were being honest. The possessive, jealous side of him rose up, demanding that no other male take up residence in her mind… in her life.
