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Fuck. My. Life.
What the fuck do I say to that? “I hate my name,” I tell her.
“You hate it because it represents who you were in your past, right?” I nod. “So, claim it back, Beau.”
She makes it sound so easy, and maybe it is, but I can’t stop from cringing when she says it. “Skye.” The warning cracks in that one word, but she doesn’t heed it. She steps up to me, the scent of the mint toothpaste she just used filling my senses.
“We both have names that tie us to our pasts, but that doesn’t mean they have to be our future too. I don’t know about you, but I’m done being defined by it. I’m not a Richardson, and you’re not weak because of your name either. Let’s just be who we want to be.”
I stare at her, wondering who the fuck this girl is. She’s like no one I’ve ever met. She’s standing in a room she’s been locked in for a whole week, telling me to be free.
I know I shouldn’t do it, especially after my whole speech before, but I kiss her anyway. She grips my biceps, leaning up on her toes as I take her mouth with more passion than I have any right to deliver.
I keep it short, even though I want nothing more than to push her onto the mattress and sink into her wet heat. I meant what I said about slowing things down. Being reckless and impulsive created this entire situation, and despite what Hawk and my other brothers think, I do learn.
I kiss her forehead, a gesture that makes her close her eyes as I do, and fuck, I want her and it kills me to hold back.
CHAPTER9
SKYE
Idon’t think I’ve been so excited by the prospect of leaving a room in my entire life. As Rage reaches for the door handle, he pauses, and my stomach bottoms out.
“What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t turn to face me. His focus on the door in front of him, and I can’t miss how tight his shoulders seem.
“Hey, talk to me,” I push, my fingers wrapping around his arm.
“Your father knows you’re missing. He’s put out a reward for your return.”
That bottoming feeling becomes a heavy anvil in my gut. Oh, shit. I mean, I knew he’d find out—the guards changed regularly—but knowing he’s actively looking for me causes a full body tremble. My hands are shaking so badly, I have to clasp them together.
“Hey, you’re okay.” Rage’s voice penetrates barely through the fog shrouding me, but I feel him guide me over to the sofa and push me onto it. “Breathe, Skye.”
It seems like such an easy instruction. I’ve been breathing fine on my own for eighteen fucking years, but my body doesn’t remember how to function through my fear.
“He’ll kill me,” I mumble. “He’s never going to let me get away with what I did, and even if he forgives that, I’m carrying the baby of his enemy. He’s going to kill us both.” I’m rambling, everything slurring together in my panic. “I have to run, Rage. It’s not safe for me to be here, or for your club either. There are kids here.”
My mind is racing, my pulse too. I can’t seem to get air into my lungs no matter how hard I try.
“Skye, you need to calm down.”
“I… I c-can’t.”
“You’re gonna pass out if you don’t.”
He’s not wrong. My vision is hazy and rolling. I grip the edge of the mattress with my fingers, as if it can keep me centred.
“You’re safe here. I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
“Y-you c-c-can’t… know that.”
He takes my face in his hands, his expression serious as he scans my face. “I do know that, Skye, because I’m not gonna let your father fucking touch you.” I close my eyes, trying to calm the swirling in my vision. “Look at me.” The snapped words are enough to force my lids apart. He’s not angry, not with me, but he’s not letting this slide either. “I promise I’ll always protect you.”
I grip his leather vest in my fingers, a reminder of why we’re in this mess. “He murdered your friend, despite her being pregnant. You think he won’t do the same to me when he realises I’m carrying your baby? My father would rather have a dead daughter than a grandchild bound to the Sons.”
I try to calm the palpitations crushing my chest. The nonstop fluttering in my throat makes me feel like I’m drowning on the lack of air.
