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“Keep talking while you help me change the bedding.”

“Yes ma-”

She whirls on me, finger ready to poke my chest. I smile, mime zipping my lips and throw her a wink. Damn I can’t wait to do this every day for the rest of my fucking life.

Willa

Miles’ steady, even breaths wash over me, calming me. Which is a damn good thing because I’m wide awake, my mind on that dickbag ex of mine. He may not legally be my ex-husband, but in my mind, body and heart he's even less than that. He’s dirt on the bottom of my shoe.

I can’t believe the yellow-bellied asshole was somehow voted Prez of their little group. And not only was he Prez, but he left his men to die as he rode off into the night without looking back. Who does that? Actually, I should know better than to be surprised by his shitty behaviour. It’s the same shit he tried to pull when he was busted. Tried to somehow blame me for it. Even asked me to “take one for the team” and say they were my drugs, he didn’t know what was in the back of the truck, and he was just doing me a favor. Yeah, OK then, buddy. Like anyone would believe that shit. Argh. I wish he was in front of me. I’d kick him in the balls. Repeatedly.

I roll closer to Miles, snuggling in, my body pressed up to his as close as I can get, my arms T-Rex’d into my body. Even in sleep his first thought is on me and my comfort. He rolls toward me, lips pressed against my forehead as he wraps one arm around me, pulling me close, slipping one knee between mine. His breathing evens out again and my eyelids flutter closed, I’m safe within his protection. I’ll need it because Diesel always has a plan. He may have started out the bum boy who did everything his Prez told him to do in the Sinister Wolves, but as he moved through the ranks he found his own contacts. Like Mercer. Like many other rich dudes I saw him meeting with. Like a cat, Diesel has nine lives. And he always lands on his feet. He also knows where I am, and I don’t think I’m lucky enough for him to skip Roxburgh and not come looking for me. Because he will. But this time it will be worse because he knows what I’m capable of. Old Willa would have snivelled and begged at his feet. New Willa burnt the bastard with hot massage oil. I make a mental note to always be strapped. If push comes to shove can I put my blade or a bullet in Diesel? You bet your ass I can.

Feeling more relaxed than I did a few moments ago I snuggle in just a little deeper, closing my eyes and breathing in the clean, spicy scent of my Ol Man. Mine.

***

I jolt awake, my heart pounding in time with the fist banging on the door. “Dad! Is Willa in there with you?”

Before I can register the words Miles is up, unbuttoned jeans pulled up his powerful thighs, boots slipped onto his feet as he stomps to the door.

“What the hell are you hollering about?” he growls.

“Willa? Is she here with you?” Rhodie asks, looking over Miles’ shoulder.

“Yeah, she’s here. Why?”

Rhodie runs a hand down his face, “Switch just sent out an alert, there's screaming coming from her place, he couldn’t get near cos in his words ‘it’s fucking chaos’ over there. They’re freaking out dude, Joy couldn’t get a hold of Willa and they didn’t know if she was here or not.”

“Yup, I’m here,” I say, pulling one of Mile’ shirts on to cover my nakedness.

Rhodie’s shoulders slump in relief, and it does something to me to know that Miles’ son is happy that I’m safe.

“Well, if we’re all here, who do you think is at your house?”

Miles and I share a look, and I can’t help the twitch of my lips. “If I’m really lucky, it’ll be my ex-husband.”

Rhodie and Miles grin at each other before Miles slaps my ass. “Get dressed, babe. Let's go see.”

I scuttle off to find my interrogation clothes. Yoga pants aren't really the best for being on the back of a bike, but my house isn’t far from here and I trust Miles. That stops me in my tracks, a little ripple of pleasure running through me. I trust him. To have my back, to be there when I need him. Shit, it’s a nice feeling. One that I can’t dwell on because the excitement that Diesel could be at my place hopefully maimed and mangled is top of my mind.

“Ready?”

“Ready!” I nod.

Miles twines his fingers in mine and leads me out of his room, down the stairs into the common room where again, I’m stopped in my tracks. There, the whole MC except Switch and Joy are gathered.

“Ah, what’s going on?” I ask, eyes wide.

Marx stares at me then steps up, never dropping his gaze. “He your Ol Man?” He tips his head toward Miles.

“Yeah.”

“Then you're ours. We got your back, Willa. Welcome to the DRMC.”

My throat is thick with emotion, but I don’t want to look like a weenie in front of the Prez so I step forward and give Marx a hug. “Thank you, Marx.”

“Thank you for making my Dad happy,” he whispers back.