I have no fucking clue how she will react to me after that. Everything we did here, me opening up to her, telling her to call me by my real name. And finding out I took a bullet for her, could all be shattered when we get to the clubhouse and she sees what is waiting there for her.
“Don’t think I forgot you didn’t tell me what is going on. Just because you gave me all those orgasms doesn’t change the fact you got out of it earlier. But you won’t get out of it forever. I’ll find out what I want to know, however I need to. So stop with the posturing and thinking you own me and let’s go.”
Kinsley clings to me as we ride the short distance from my loft. Each passing mile is making me more apprehensive. It’s not a feeling I’m used to, but if I take her in the opposite direction, like I want to, she’ll lose her shit.
I remain on the bike when she gets off, pulling off her helmet. She takes a couple of steps away but doesn’t try to cross the street. There is row after row of flowers and candles, and a few people standing behind the police cordon, heads bowed in prayer.
I give her a moment to take it all in. At least someone has cleaned the blood from the steps. She startles a little when I step up beside her and reach for her helmet. Our eyes meet, all the words we need to say pass through that look.
The little angry line between her brows appears, and she turns toward the clubhouse. She said she wanted to speak to Nero about what he’s doing for the church, and given how much he has integrated us with them, he’ll want to give her that reassurance.
He’s paid for Marisol’s funeral and offered to help with Colton’s medical expenses, but the church rebuked him, saying they have their own insurance. Turns out not all men of the cloth are as welcoming as Colton.
The two men who stayed at the hospital reported back they’re getting hostile looks and requests to leave whenever a priest shows up. I’ve told Kinsley none of this.
We need to get this over with so I can take her to the hospital, then get back to planning what happens with the Sinners, and Nero’s intentions with Kivisto.
The door to the clubhouse opens as we’re approaching and Cipher steps out, putting a cigarette between his lips. When he sees us, he stops, one very quick glance at Kinsley, then he looks at the sky.
He is the last person I want to see. This bastard had his hands all over her not so long ago.
“Nope,” Kinsley grabs my arm and tugs me back as Cipher takes the opportunity to get away, hopping the small wall into the bar’s parking lot. “What happened with him was before-
“I don’t care,” I lean in close. “You were mine then and you’re mine now.”
“It didn’t mean anything. I just wanted-”
“I swear to God you better not say what I think you’re about to say.”
I haven’t forgotten what happened that night when I dragged Cipher off her. The thought of him being in my position that night.
“You don’t own me, Rebel.”
She drags me back out of the red mist with her angry statement, the fire in her eyes makes me act like a childish dick. “That isn’t what you were saying this morning.”
“I’ve come to my senses.”
She’s impossible, and from the glint in her eye, she knows she’s getting under my skin. I’m well aware I don’t own her. No one does.
It will not stop me letting everyone else around her know, they touch her, they lose their hands. That asshole Mark can attest to that.
There is no way I can keep fighting it. My cock isn’t broken, it just knows it doesn’t want anyone else.
It’s brightly lit inside the clubhouse, and there are more men here than usual. And people I never expected to find here. We haven’t taken two steps inside when that little pissing, barking fur ball is charging at our feet. Not this fucking time. I grab it, making sure it’s turned away in case it decides to shower us.
Kinsley looks at me, holding it with locked arms, straight out in front of me.
“What is wrong with you, it’s a puppy, not a bomb.”
“You’ll thank me for saving your shoes.”
Taylor is sitting at the table talking to Beast and hasn’t noticed me manhandling her little menace, but Oscar has. He is coming straight at me.
I look around for help and spot Nero standing in the kitchen area. He’s not sitting on top of Taylor, but he might as well be. Taylor turns when Oscar squeals in excitement. It also draws Nero’s attention.
His brow creases when he sees me holding Ollie out in front of me, and Oscar grabbing onto my jeans, laughing like a maniac.
“I thought this place was full of badass bikers,” Kinsley stage-whispers to me.
