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"You got to say it, Rae." His roughened palms slide up to my neck, thumbs stroking the underside of my jaw. "Tell me you fuckin’ want me.”
"I want you,” I confess to the sight of my hands against his thick thighs, voice shaking from the residual fear.
What will Maddie think? What will his club think of me?
What will Digger think?
The last one spears me straight in the chest, fogging my brain with why that would matter. He made it clear in the garage that Saturday was a one-time thing. A little curiosity for him. I was easy fun, but not worth the hassle of anything more. We’re not even friends with benefits—we’re just the benefits. That's all.Isn't it?Goddamn, I'm hopeless when it comes to men.
"Look me in the eye and say it, Rae." Tyke's hands tighten ever so slightly. The tremor in his touch takes me by surprise.He’s nervous.
I lift my gaze to his, swallow hard, and let the truth fall free. "I feel as though you know how to protect me, Tyke. I feel... safe with you."
His hands drop away, head turning to the side as he leans away. My eye traces the strong line of his jaw and the thickness of his neck.How bad I want to lick that.To taste the way he smells.What did I do wrong?
“This ain’t keepin’ you safe." He shakes his head and extracts himself from the chair, knocking my legs in the process. “Fuck.”
I slam my forearm to the desk to save from sliding to the floor and right myself in the seat.
“An honorable man wouldn’t do this,” he states with nothing but conviction. “He’d fuckin’ give you the respect you deservewhen you’re fresh off a fucked-up relationship.” No anger, no accusation. Just fact. "You're vulnerable, needing reassurance, and easily influenced. And I shouldn't have taken advantage of that." His mouth twitches into a grimace, brow pulled tight. “I’m sorry, Rae."
He spins for the door. Each strike of his boots against the floorboards reverberates through my body, the shockwaves little electric pings against my already frayed nerves.
My bruised and bleeding self-confidence.
I lift my chin, lips parting to say his name. Yet nothing comes.
I watch as Maddie's father walks out of his office and lean back in the seat, leather creaking beneath me. I should have kept my feelings to myself. Said nothing. I should have told him what he needed to hear.
I should have been what he wanted me to be.
The one thing I've never been any good at.
30
DIGGER
Six yearssince I found occasion to pull up to this goddamn roadhouse on a rescue mission. Six years of watching my brother grow stronger by the day, his addiction well behind him. And yet, here I am at nine-fifteen on a Monday night, hunting out the sorry son of a bitch. Country rock blasts through the barred windows, doubling in intensity when I wrench the steel door open and step inside the roadside dive. Smoke hangs thick in the air, the lights low, red bulbs in most the fittings.
I know why he chose this place, why he comes here whenever he feels out of control.
Because he can hide in plain sight.
Something I wished I could have done an hour ago.
Seated in the far right corner, Tyke leans one arm along the back of the booth, the other hand wrapped loosely around a glass of whiskey. He may as well drink straight from the bottle. It'd save double-handling what's bound to end up down his gullet anyway.
"Sampson." I lift my hand to the bartender, giving unsaid thanks for his phone call.
The short, black man has more pepper in his trimmed beard than the last time I was here. But his eyes are just as hard as they were when I needed to drag Tyke home last. "I won't ask what got him here, West," he hollers over the music with a slight jerk of his chin. "But I trust he won't be a regular again."
"Not if I can help it." I push past a couple of young cowboys, weave through what appears to be half a fucking frat house, and arrive at death's door. "What the fuck was worth this? I’ve been tryin’ to get hold of you, you fuckin’ moron, andthisis where you are?”
He closes his eyes and rolls his head back on the seat. "Sit down, Dig."
"Rather not." I move the bottle out of his reach. “I’ve already had one hell of a fuckin’ night and I’m ready to go home."
"Yeah? Well I'm not," he spits.
