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I choke out a sob.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. But it’s not.
It’s not okay.
I always thought I’d fight back. I always thought I’d be the person to never freeze in the face of danger, to always fight as hard as I could until the very end. But in those moments, my body stopped. My mind stopped.Istopped.
If Ezra hadn’t showed up when he did, what else would’ve happened? What else would I havelethappen?
If I would’ve just shot him, I wouldn’t have needed Ez. If I would’ve just pulled that trigger, I could’ve been safe. I could’ve saved myself. I wouldn’t be likethis.
Another sob leaves me, the tears hot against my skin. I thought I was stronger than this, better than this.
But I’m not.
Ezra’s lips press to my shoulder, one of the only places not bruised. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath warm. I wipe my face as I nod, not trusting myself to speak. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Even if you tell me to, I’m not leaving you.”
My chin wobbles as more tears fill my eyes. I look up at him, at his gentle expression.
“Why?” I breathe, my eyes searching his. “I’ve been nothing but horrible to you, and—and you still want to be with me.” I try to clutch my knees to my chest, but the soreness of my stomach stops me. I hiss at the pain, my hands gripping my shins as I breathe through it.
“Don’t move,” he scolds. His fingers firmly grip my chin, tipping my head back to look at him. “I’m here because I’m in love with you. I have been since the first moment I saw you. I don’t know what it was, but there was just something about you. Something that screamed mine. I was always told that I would know when I found her, the one. And you’re the one, Kens. So no matter what you throw at me, I can take it. No matter what words you use to try to slash through me, I can take it. And Iwilltake it. For you. I’m not going anywhere, love.”
Tears stream down my face as I stare up at him, his face uncharacteristically blank. He’s not letting any of his crazy bubble to the surface, and somehow, that makes it all the more real, it makes his words more real. He’s not saying them during some manic episode, or because he’s still riding the high of killing those men.
He means it—hedoes. Ezra. Not Kiwi. Not the crazy biker with a taste for blood. Not the man who threatens to cut a man’s hands off for looking at me. That’s not Ezra. That’s Kiwi.
Ezra is soft and sweet and…mine. He’s mine. All of him. Crazy, soft, loving, killing biker. Ezra and Kiwi, Kiwi and Ezra. They’re one and the same, and mine. All mine.
More tears drip from my eyes, but not from the pain anymore, not from his words, but with the realization that he’s right—he’s the one. I was stupid to think that he wasn’t. I was stupid to think that anyone else would be able to handle me and my bullshit.
It’s only him.
He’s the man who can handle me without changing me, without dampening me. He’s strong enough to throw back whatever I give him.
He’s mine.
“You don’t have to say it back yet,” he says. “But one day…” His blue eyes search mine, longing clear in them. “One day, you’ll tell me that you’re mine, that you belong to me, and it’ll be the best day of my life.” He lowers his mouth to mine and brushes his lips across mine in a fleeting kiss.
He looks like he wants more, like he wants to kiss me harder, longer, like he wants to claim me, but he holds back. And that makes more tears flow. Our gazes stay locked for a few heartbeats, nothing but the sound of our breathing and water dripping.
Then his phone rings and breaks the spell. Not completely, just enough to get him to move. He kisses my forehead as he pulls his phone from his back pocket, not caring about his wet, soapy hands as he presses it to his ear.
“Hey, yeah. She’s awake.” He rests his hand on my cheek, lightly cupping my face as he strokes his thumb along my cheek. “Door’s unlocked. Come in.”
I press my face into his palm, needing the warmth and safety of his touch. I turn my head enough to kiss his wrist and he inhales sharply. Lifting my eyes to his again, he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me. Like he really is in love with me.
Kennedy
Blade checked me out, and apart from a few cuts and bruises and suspected concussion, I’m mostly fine. After the blood had been washed away, the lump on my head wasn’t as bad as we’d initially thought. Ezra was worried that the man had broken my ribs, but luckily, Blade didn’t think so. They both made me promise to see my doctor tomorrow to get checked out, and I reluctantly agreed.
“Let’s get you in bed,” Ezra says as he locks the door behind Blade. He leans his shoulder on it as he folds his arms, his eyes on me. He looks exhausted. I nod, and wince at the light headache pounding at the back of my head.
Ian’s door opens, and my body stiffens. I clutch the blanket tighter around my shoulders, my eyes shifting to the hall. Anxiety swirls with each step, and then he’s there, pausing as he rubs his eye.
His gaze meets Ezra’s first, then slowly slides to me. He drops his hand to his side when he sees my face and lurches forward a step, before stopping himself.
“Mom?” he whispers, his eyes widening.
