“She’s not club property,” Morpheus said as his eyes bored into mine, almost challenging me to say something. When I didn’t, he continued, “Right now, she’s a prisoner. A thief. And we need to decide how to handle her without starting a war.”
“What about Nano?” Carver asked, as every eye in the room turned to me.
Observant motherfucker.
I didn’t move. Didn’t react.
“What about him?” Morpheus asked, his tone neutral.
Carver’s grin turned sharp. “He’s the one who brought her in. Spent three days in a car with her. Dragged her through the clubhouse last night and damn near choked her to death in front of everyone.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air. “Seems like he’s got a personal interest.”
“Fuck off, Carver,” I sneered, my voice cold.
Carver leaned forward. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking, asshole. You don’t usually get your hands dirty. You’re the tech guy. The one who sits behind a computer and finds people. But last night?” He whistled, his grin widening like heknew a secret and couldn’t wait to share it. “Last night you looked like you wanted to tear her apart.”
“She fought me,” I simply said. “I responded.”
“You sure did,” Carver said, his eyes gleaming. “I did some digging. Called around Rapid City to some of my favorite haunts. Apparently, she’s got a thing for pain. Likes it rough.”
My jaw tightened. Just a fraction.
But enough.
Carver saw it. His grin widened. “Thought you’d find that interesting.”
“Shut up, Carver,” I growled, forcing my expression to stay neutral. Forcing my hands to stay flat on the table instead of curling into fists. He was baiting me. Testing me. Trying to see if I’d bite.
I wouldn’t. Because the moment I admitted what I felt last night, the moment I let them see the hunger that had clawed its way to the surface, they would never let it go. They would poke and prod and make it a fucking joke. Turn it into something to laugh about over beers.
And it wasn’t a joke.
It was the darkest part of me. The part I’d buried for years. The part that had woken up last night when I felt her pulse failing under my hand and realized I didn’t want to stop.
“I don’t give a fuck what she likes,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s a thief. She stole from the club. That’s all that matters.”
“Sure,” Carver said, still grinning. “Whatever you say, brother.”
The room fell silent again. I could feel them watching me. Wanderer. Garrote. Cerberus. All of them were curious. All of them wondering what the fuck Carver was talking about.
None of them would ask. But they would wonder. And that was almost worse.
“Enough,” Morpheus barked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Carver, shut the fuck up. Nano, you good?”
“I’m good,” I growled.
Morpheus’ eyes locked on mine. Dark. Knowing. Unreadable.
“You sure about that?” Carver asked, his tone deceptively casual.
Morpheus growled a warning. “Carver.”
My pulse kicked up. Just a fraction as I looked at the fucker. “You got something to say, then fucking say it, fucker.”
Carver leaned back in his chair. “You know, Nano, I’ve known you a long time. You and I prospected together. And in all that time, I’ve never seen you lose control.”
I didn’t respond.
“You’re the most controlled brother in this club,” the bastard continued. “You don’t drink too much. Don’t fuck the club girls. Don’t start fights. You sit behind your computer, you do your job, and you keep your head down.” He paused. “But last night? Last night you looked like a different person.”
