Page 63 of Property of Quake

“Okay, fine, I’m worried,” I blurt. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Wait,” I say, but it sounds more like a question than a statement. “I’m fine with the whole ‘club business’ stuff, and I’m good with him not telling me everything because I understand it’s for my own safety. What I’m not good at is pretending not to worry about his safety.”

“Don’t pretend,” Zoey says. “It’s fine to worry. Just make sure that you don’t let the worry turn to bitterness.”

“She’s right,” Marlene agrees. “I’ve seen women come and go over the years. Not with Quake, mind you, but with some of the older brothers. If they start to feel hemmed in, they back off real fucking fast.”

Mellie squeezes my arm. “Just love him, Whitney. Worry about him and love him.”

“I do,” I whisper.

“Does he know that?” Lucy asks.

I try to recall a time I told Quake I loved him, but I can’t. I told him I was leaving the Church, I moved in with him, and I let him become the most important person in my life, but I’ve never said the words.

Neither has he.

Before I can answer her, Zoey changes the subject. “She’s doing much better,” she says, nodding toward Melissa.

“Yes, she really is. She feels safe here.”

“Because she is,” Mellie says. “And so are you.”

The knowledge brings comfort, but also stirs the fear. The more Melissa heals, the more at home I become at the clubhouse and with Quake and this family he’s built, the more I realize exactly how much I stand to lose.

The distant rumble of motorcycles breaks through the quiet of the afternoon. Every muscle in my body tightens, almost painfully, and I jump to my feet.

“Told you he’d be back,” Mellie quips, getting to her feet.

The Harleys roll into the lot, one after another, and my pulse pounds in my ears. Relief rushes through me the moment I spot Quake, but it disappears almost instantly when I see his face.

“Something happened,” I say flatly.

He parks and climbs off his bike. Lyric and Zombie do the same, as do Whiz, Trick, Pilot, and Goose. None of them look relaxed or satisfied. They look… grim.

My stomach sinks.

By the time Quake reaches me, I already know that whatever words come out of his mouth, they won’t be good.

“What happened?” I demand.

He levels his gaze on mine before pressing a kiss to my forehead. These little displays of affection have become more frequent, but he’s never pushed for more. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to initiate. God, I hope not because I have no clue how to do that.

“We need to talk,” he finally says, and his tone sends fear sliding through my chest, cold and heavy.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He glances over his shoulder, checking to make sure that Melissa remains fully occupied with Stella. I follow his gaze and see her walking toward the gate to come to us.

“Mellie,” Quake says.

She understands immediately. “We’ll keep her busy.”

The old ladies walk across the lot, kissing their husbands as they pass them, and drawing Melissa’s attention away from the clubhouse. Only when Quake is satisfied that she’s one hundred percent occupied does he guide me inside.

The atmosphere in the common room feels heavy as the brothers file in behind us. Nobody speaks right away. The silence stretches until Quake finally exhales and drags a hand over his face.