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“Yes, he’s fine,” he said, wondering why she felt the need to be brave when showing her concern for him. Did she think he’d find that strange? Over the line? Dramatic? Fake? Hard to know why she used her Texan bravado when she did.
He did love her strength but not when it hid her fear and worry from him. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. He watched all her fears melt from her face and damn he loved having that kind of power over her. “You okay, ma-Texas Tegan?”
Her eyes rose from his mouth to his, her soft, vulnerable side begging him to use more of that power on her. He surely would. That very night. She gave him a little smile. “I’m…not gonna lie, I get to feeling out of sorts here. An island almost. With a contagion.”
He slid her knuckles along his lips. “You are surely contagious,” he said. “And you’remyisland.” She locked her gaze on his, her breaths shallow. “Oui?” he whispered.
She nodded and he leaned in, stopping just before her mouth, feeling the silk of her cheek with his fingers. “Don’t fear me, Texas.” He moved her hand to his chest and pressed it against the raging thump of his heart. “This isyourisland.” Her gasp hit his mouth and he kissed her, being extra soft and gentle as he melted more of her fears.
“Your…phone,” she whispered.
“What fucking phone?” he murmured, nipping delicately on her lips.
She gasped a laugh, and he eased back, searching her face for anymore symptoms he needed to kiss away. Gone. For now.
He looked, seeing he missed a call from Sarah again. Buh-san, it had begun. She was going to be his biggest issue with this. He’d given her too much hope and that part was going to bite him in his fucking ass but good.
He pulled up Bullet’s number and hit it, eyeing her as it rang.
“Doc,” he answered, sounding curious.
“Hey, I just left the Viking clan in your hatch and I’m calling to report a violation of ordinance 35, Marital Malevolence.
“What?” The shock in his dark tone dumped adrenaline in Patches’ blood.
“I saw it with my own eyes. Bloody nose, busted lip. And judging by the swelling on her face and right eye, her orbital bone is fractured.”
“Whichclan. I got three in my Hatch.”
“Tell him she’s scared, she shouldn’t be left there,” Tegan whispered.
“Also, this is a bit of a hostage situation. She showed fear of further retribution should anybody get involved.”
“Understood,” he muttered, murder in his tone.
“What’s he gonna do?” Tegan whispered. “When?”
“What’s your plan?”
He heard the crackle of a radio. “38, come in.”
The static broke several times. “Yeah, boss?”
“Gather fifteen men for a Bayou Brigade.”
“You got it, boss,” he said, sounding eager. “Weapons?”
“Hot and hostile. We’re grabbing a male and the victim. Female with injuries.”
“You fuckin’ got it,” he said, sounding thrilled to do something of use. “Location?”
“One of ourVikingclans,” he muttered, like he wanted to spit. “Meet me in fifteen.”
“Holy shit. We doing this tonight?”
“No. We’re doing itnow.”
“I’ll text you the coordinates,” Patches said when 38 signed off.
