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That had to mean something, right?
29
Fury sat on the edge of the bed and looked over his shoulder at Angelina. She was asleep on her side, the sheet covering her nude body, and the things he’d said to her replayed through his mind like a broken record.
Yeah, he’d said she was his, that he was claiming her, and although he could blame it on the heat of the moment, the truth was he meant those words. Ever since he saw her for the first time all those weeks ago, something in him had clicked.
He’d tried telling himself over and over again that wanting her was just the sick side of him that wanted to get back at Sal.
And maybe he’d convinced himself of that, in a way, but having her here was so different.
The way she looked at him, spoke to him made him feel like he wasn’t a worthless motherfucker. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt before. He’d always lived for his club, didn’t care what lengths he’d go, or what fucked up things he’d do to make things right, not until this moment.
He didn’t want her hurt, didn’t want Angelina in the middle of this, even if he was the one that had put her here.
Fury let his gaze travel over her arm that was up by her face. His fingers itched to touch her, to see if even in sleep he could make goosebumps rise along her skin, have her body react to him. But in the end, he tightened his hands into fists and got off the bed.
After slipping pants and a T-shirt on he left her in the room sleeping. They’d slept well into early afternoon but hadn’t gone to bed until nearly five in the morning.
He stood in the kitchen and stared at the stove. Hell, he wanted to do something domestic for her, like cook, feed her, make her see he wasn’t just a lowdown motherfucker.
But Fury didn’t cook, and unless she wanted a piece of ham slapped between two pieces of bread, or a shot of whiskey, he’d just end up burning the food. But he could make her a strong cup of coffee.
Fury figured after the night they had, the hit that had gone down the last few days. No doubt she was probably sore—which had him grinning and feeling proud. She’d need a kick-in-the-ass cup of coffee.
He started the pot and stood by the sink staring out the window. The driveway was a long, graveled strip of road that was about half an acre long. There was also a gate that blocked the entry. But the cabin and property were so far off the beaten path, and the nearest town a long fucking ways off, no one came this way unless passing by.
The sound of the coffee dripping into the pot had him looking over at it, his thoughts on Angelina and how he was going to handle this. Fury knew he didn’t want to let her go, not even after all of this.
He wanted to take out her father, though, and that meant he needed to find the fucker.
But was she really okay with Sal Cardona being killed? Fury couldn’t let things be done with the fucker, couldn’t let him get away with hurting his club or Birdie. Fury could have done a lot of things differently. but what was done was done, and there was no turning back.
The sound of shuffling behind him had Fury turning and seeing Angelina standing there in nothing but a blanket. He saw her toes peeking out from under the material. Despite the fact he’d fucked her into oblivion last night and should have been set for at least a day, his cock came right to attention.
“Hey,” he said, because honestly, he didn’t know what in the fuck to say.
She smiled, but she looked nervous as hell, too.
“Coffee?” Angelina nodded, took a step toward him but before she moved more than a foot, she stopped. When she looked down at herself her face became pink. “I should probably get dressed.”
Fury couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I won’t complain about naked coffee drinking.”
Angelina started laughing, and the sound was nice, calming. “I’ll be right back.” She turned and left, and Fury felt himself still smiling.
After all that happened, this time with her felt … normal. It was still pretty insane that she’d ended up in his bed after everything, but he couldn’t deny the fact he felt very possessive of her.
The very thought of letting her walk away, that he wouldn’t see her again, had this rage billowing inside of him. He wanted her like a fiend, and if he were being honest, he’d felt that desire start to grow inside of him the first time he saw her all those weeks ago.
It had developed into the territorial monster it was now, and there was no denying or stopping it.
The sound of an approaching vehicle had Fury looking out the window and seeing a dark SUV coming up the driveway. It was too far for him to see who was inside, but he was already on alert. He opened the sink cabinet, reached under it, and grabbed the gun tucked underneath.
It was just one of the many guns that were stashed around the cabin.
Checking to make sure it was locked and loaded, he tucked the pistol at the small of his back and grabbed another gun that was on top of the fridge, making sure that one was ready, as well.
He kept his focus on the approaching vehicle the whole time, and when it came to a stop in front of the cabin, the glare from the sun cut right over the windshield, blocking him from trying to make out who was in the car.
