“And you say I have issues…”
“Hey! This isn’t about me, Miss Nightcrawler, lurking in the shadows of Rhylan’s dance studio like a psycho. This is about you andhim.” Her eyes flicked over to Rhylan, who was now helping his client pack up his things. “Oh, shit. Go, go, go.” Tiffany whispered as she shoved me to the side and we took off down the nearest alleyway, keeping out of sight. “Danger aside, I said what I said and meant it. You have your little sister’s stamp of approval on this one, and who knows, maybe you can hook me up with one of his hot friends later.” She gave a playful wink and another nudge to the side of my arm.
“Always so encouraging when there’s something in it for you…”
“I mean… Can you blame a girl for wanting a walking six-pack for a husband? Biceps that I could just sink my teeth into and—”
“You can be shallow at times, ya know that?” I didn’t tease her often, but when I did, she knew I was right.
“Easier to fish when the water is at knee height. I’m not a strong swimmer, and the tide pool is looking a little… empty.” But I swear, the hopeless romantic in my sister would someday be another man’s reckoning.
“Touché, Tiff. Now let’s go home. I’m tired, and tomorrow is going to be a rough one if we plan to go out after work.”
“Say no more. I’ll help where I can.”
Because when in doubt, we could always count on each other.
Chapter 12
Rhylan
There’sastrictprotocolregarding marriage in the MUR, and with it come steps a member must complete before they are given permission to proceed.
Not wanting to fuck anything up, I immediately set things in motion by reaching out to Axel, one of Dustin’s guards, who conducted a background check and investigation on our chosen women.
This first phase included a one-to-two-week shadowing period, during which he discreetly followed Dakota on her daily tasks to verify that she wasn’t engaging in any illicit activities that would conflict with our organization.
We may be men of the underground, but our women had to align with our values, and if they didn’t, they were either added to the list of potential targets or we were instructed to move on; neither option was ideal.
The downside of the private investigation being we had to‘stay the fuck out of Axel’s way’, or he would terminate the application and automatically deny eligibility. Once denied, there were no second chances.
I’ve only ever heard of a handful of men having to part ways with a woman of their choosing. Most of them didn’t even bother to find another, arguing that the process was too tedious and unrealistic. But the few that did were all successful and are now happily married, claiming fate for fucking up the first time.
Although patience wasn't a virtue every man possessed, it paid to be picky from the start. If the prospective bride was found to be an unquestionably valid candidate for the MUR, the investigation ended, and a detailed report was submitted to Dustin for final approval.
Exactly eight days since my initial submission, I received my blessing, signed and sealed by the man himself.
Now all I needed to do was find the perfect moment, the right time to pop the question. Because, believe it or not, I was a man of tradition, and I wanted to see the light shine in her gorgeous eyes when she said yes.
BusinesswasslowforVortex, as expected. I wasn’t doing this for the money; I was doing itfor her, and while Dakota’s studio primarily catered to women, I found that the vast majorityof registered clients were men. No surprise there. Another reason why she shouldn’t view me as a threat.
As a member of the MUR, we weren’t expected to work forty-hour weeks; the revue always came first. So the limited schedule and façade of running a busy studio fit perfectly into my daily routine, and allowed me to keep an eye on my girl.
Holding back was easy when I knew I couldn’t have her. I mean, I could’ve—easily, but there were only so many lines that I’d cross in life, and ripping her heart out wasn’t one of them.
I bided my time for Dakota, and now, after burying myself between her thighs, I found myself resisting a magnetic pull that refused to give, only growing in intensity by the day.
When someone consumes every fiber of your being, a week of intentional avoidance feels more like a century.
“Distracted much?” Silas interrupted my thoughts with a grin. Kerosene didn’t open for a few hours, but we still had rehearsals and prep to cover before the doors were unlocked, so we were already getting dressed.
“You could say that,” I admitted, pulling my boots from the locker I’d been staring vacantly into, all thoughts centered around when and how I would approach Dakota next. She might not have been a fan of me at the moment; however, I saw the way her eyes cataloged every inch of my body to memory that night. “But she’s worth it.”
“So I’ve been told. Lucky fuckin’ girl. Trent mentioned that she’s quite the spitfire.” Of course, Trent would’ve already told Silas about her.
“Is that all Trent told you?” I arched my brow in suspicion. Not like I gave a fuck if he knew everything or not. Hell, I’d tell him myself if he hadn’t. We were family after all.
“Eh,” Silas shrugged, lifting his hat off the hook on the adjacent wall from where we stood. “He gave me bits and pieces of the picture, enough to know that you’re just as insane as I’ve always believed you to be, but nothing outside of that. Why? Something else I should know about one of the future buckle-branded?”The nickname we all agreed upon for the wives of Kerosene.
