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He whistled under his breath.
“I want a brand.”
“You do, huh?” He smirked at me before he pressed a kiss to my nose. “In the MC, that ring on your finger don’t mean much.”
I knew it.
“I figured,” I admitted.
“A brand is usually what it takes to get protection from the club.”
“Why didn’t you take me to a tattoo studio, then?”
“Because it wasn’t necessary. Not with you being Sin’s sister too, something Rex confirmed the first time I spoke with him. The ring was more for your father. Plus…” His hand shifted to my throat, and his thumb traced over the sinews there. “If I brand you, MaryCat, then there’s no getting away from me. That’s a big step. A massive step, in fact. Let’s not run before we can walk, hmm?”
My mouth twisted as hurt surged inside me.
Why would he want me anyway when he had all these ‘rich bitches’ in town wanting to get hot and heavy with a biker for the night?
God, I’d been stupid to bring that up!
I was lucky he wasn’t laughing at me. But I’d thought… How he’d looked at me…
Mortified, I cleared my throat. “Fine.” When I pulled back, he frowned at me, but I erased all remnants of sadness from my expression, rasping, “What do you think about my idea?”
“I think it might be a good one, but they won’t let me through the gates to the compound.”
“Then don’t go through the gates,” I said stiffly, staring down at his hog.
“I’m not leaving you in there by yourself!” he argued.
“I won’t be by myself,” I told him, my words calm. God, all those years of living with Father had helped improve my acting skills. “Auntie Lena will be there. She’ll help me. I know she will.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I do. She was gang-raped by the Aryans, Digger. You have to know that. She won’t let…” This whole idea of mine revolved around that being the truth.
God, don’t let me down, Auntie Lena. Please help me talk to Uncle Aidan.
He grimaced. “Christ, I forgot about the Aryans.”
It was what had been playing on my mind the whole flight home. That, and the fact Father had traced my phone.
If Digger hadn’t told me to leave my stuff at the compound, Fatherwouldhave followed us to Vegas.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
For what felt like an endless moment, he studied me. How I didn’t squirm was beyond me, but I kept myself contained, barely, by focusing on his bike.
“You really think this will work? Why didn’t you try this before?”
“I had no way of getting to the compound, not with so many guards on me. Going to Queens might be easy for most people, but I might as well have been aiming for Timbuktu.
“You know I spoke to my friend?”
“Sarah.”
I nodded. “She told me that my mother’s in rehab. He dumps her in there sometimes. I didn’t know for sure until then, though, that he must have a trace on my phone.
