After Griffin left, I tried to go back to my apartment, but the smell of him on my skin made it impossible to think of anything but the press of his body against mine.When sleep wouldn’t come, I found myself wandering the compound, too keyed up to sit still.There was nothing left to do but wait for word, and waiting had never been my strong suit.
I made coffee in the common room, then drank it black and scalding hot, burning my tongue and the roof of my mouth.My gums too, I thought.The physical pain gave me a sliver of focus, but my mind kept rewinding to that closet and the things we’d done to each other.I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just set my future in stone.And I didn’t know how upset I felt regarding that future.
* * *
The compound was awake now.The sounds of the club coming to life.It was comforting, in a way, like being inside a machine made of muscle and anger with the singular purpose of bringing everyone home.To destroy anything in the way.I liked being part of that machine, even if only in a small way.
I heard Griffin before I saw him.His laughter carried down the hall, rough and ragged around the edges.I knew his humor was gallows humor and I got the sentiment.Sometimes it’s either laugh or cry and going into whatever situation they were getting ready to find, crying might not be the best option.He walked in flanked by Diesel and Tiny, all three radiating a dangerous kind of calm.
He caught sight of me and peeled off, motioning for the others to go ahead.He crossed the room in long strides, the bruise I’d left on his neck already darkening.I bit my lip, unable to stop the smug little smile that threatened to break through my “I don’t give a fuck” mask.
“Couldn’t sleep?”he asked, seating himself on the table edge beside me.
I shook my head.“Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’re an asshole.”
He grinned, unconcerned.“Can’t help my nature.”Then, softer, “You OK?”
I sipped the coffee, stalling.“I will be.I stand by my statement earlier.If you get hurt, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of if, darlin’.”He grinned.
The sound of a fist pounding on the main entry door rattled the air.Knight’s voice carried through the corridor, sharp and insistent.“Time’s up!We roll in five!”
Griffin stood, then pulled me to my feet.I expected him to let go, but he didn’t.He walked me down the hallway, our hands locked together, neither of us in a hurry to let go.
The garage was a riot of movement -- engines turning over, men shouting instructions.I felt the whole building pulsing with energy like a live wire.
Griffin pulled me aside, into the shadowed alcove behind the tool lockers.He braced his hands on either side of my face, caging me in.“You stay in the compound until we get back.I don’t want to take a chance on someone getting past us, and I really don’t want you hurt.”
I grinned at him.“You’re cute when you try to protect me.”
He grinned, then bent and kissed me.This one was different, slower, deliberate, like he wanted to imprint it on my memory in case there weren’t any more chances.I tried to keep it light, but I found myself kissing him back with everything I had.For the first time, I let myself need him.For the first time, I let myself want the after.
He broke away, eyes bright.“Stay safe.”
“Right back at you, cowboy.”
Knight’s second call echoed through the garage.“Let’s fucking move, people!”
Griffin jogged over to his bike, mounted up, and flashed me a final look before shoving his helmet on.I watched as he rode out with the others, the thunder of engines shaking the building.I stood in the exhaust haze, my blood humming, and realized I’d never been more alive.
When the last bike peeled out of the compound, I stood there with my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my chest.I didn’t know how this night would end.I only knew I would see it through.If I had to, I’d burn the world down to bring Griffin and my sister home.Somehow, I’d chosen him.Already and without conscious thought.With that realization, I stared at the taillights disappearing into the night.I could fight my feelings but why?Griffin was mine.Tessa was mine.I protected my own.
I just had to figure out what I was willing to surrender of myself to Griffin when this was over.Or how much I really wanted to.
Chapter Twelve
Griffin
We took a back road west out of Nashville, our bikes spread across the full lane because there wasn’t another soul stupid enough to drive this stretch after midnight.The salvage yard where the transport was supposed to stage sat just beyond the tree line.You could smell it even before you saw the high chain-link fence, a reek of wet rust and burnt-off oil.
We rolled up easy, engines dropping to a low rumble as we coasted the last fifty yards.Parked off the shoulder ahead, half-hidden by palmetto scrub and poison oak, sat a battered box truck with the grill punched in and the headlights taped over.Behind it, a black Yukon with no plates and the rear windows blacked out idled softly.
“Griffin, take the left flank,” Knuckles instructed.“Tiny, you and me go up the middle.Inferno, hit the cab of that truck.Rest of you hold back until we’re sure it’s not an ambush.Gunnar,” Knuckles addressed his vice president.“You’re responsible to get the holdouts so they don’t get the jump on us.”
“Got your six, Knuckles.”Gunnar wasn’t as seasoned as some of the guys, but he grew up in the life.Not only that, his dad owned one of the largest paramilitary organizations in the country.Gunnar knew what he was doing.
The drivers in both vehicles must’ve spotted us coming because the box truck’s brake lights flared and the Yukon dropped into drive.There was a flurry of movement inside the cab.
