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But it was us, and that was right.

Chapter 39 – Jaxon

Isabella dashed out to the truck in a pair of denim jeans, a fitted black tee, and a flannel tied around her waist.

“How on earth did you get the sizing right?” she marveled, running her hands down her body.

Something dark and possessive stirred inside me as I tracked the motion. I ought to lift her over my shoulder, march into the house, and keep her prisoner in the bedroom.

The reason I hadn’t, the reason we were going to the bar, was to prove to her that she wasn’t a prisoner. I brought her here for her safety.

How it came about was a mistake. One I would not repeat, but also one I couldn’t feel completely sorry for. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

I would burn Chicago to the ground, obliterate every threat, just to prove myself to her.

Reaching out, I pulled a strand of her loose hair, twisting it over my finger. “I know you.”

She snorted. “Ican’t even find clothes in my size. And yet you have a bunch, including the…um…intimates, perfect.”

“I’m glad they fit.”

I released her hair, groaning at the resistance it took not to give in to temptation. The rain had let up for the time, and we had maybe thirty minutes before the next storm broke.

The drive to the bar was silent.

I was desperate to know what she was thinking about.

But I was also comfortable. We didn’t need to fill the pauses with jabber. I simply watched her from my peripheral as she stared out the window into the gloomy day.

The bar was a small building right next to an even smaller gas station. Two pumps, one on each side, and no modern conveniences inside the building.

“Stay here.” I hopped out of the truck before she could protest.

Running around, I opened her door. Isabella swung her legs around but paused to look at me.

“Weren’t you driving a car?” she asked.

“Mhmm.” I held out my hand. She took it but didn’t move. One dark brow lifted. She waited for more of an answer. I sighed. “I had to ditch that vehicle and change—two times—to make sure we couldn’t be followed.”

Her voice was small. “Oh.”

I rested my hands on her knees. “I’m not going to let any of them hurt you.”

She nodded.

Her lip fucking trembled.

“I mean it,” I said, voice tight and strained. “Trust me.”

“I do.” She let out a long, shaky breath. “But what about my people? My men won’t know where I am.” She gestured around us. “How can I lead them from…here?”

Admiration for this petite, gorgeous woman swelled inside me.

Fuck. I was crazy for her.

The goodness, the desire to do the right thing. Few men had that quality, and she was built from it.

“Let me make it safe, and then you can return.” I gave her knees a squeeze. “But until then, for the next few hours, you’re just a woman and I’m just a man. We’ll go inside. Have a few piss-water beers—”