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Jason’s hands fly to my face, his thumbs sweeping away my tears. “You did good. I’m so proud of you,” he reassures me.
“I’m so sorry,” I reply, meaning it.
“Those memories die tonight,” Jason reminds me of our deal. “You did what you had to. I never want to speak of it again. We’re going home with a clean slate.”
I know it’s what we agreed, but it still sickens me to think of Marcus getting his rocks off inside me – barely inside me. All he did was tickle my hole with his pin dick and leave a gross, sticky mess inside my panties.
“Is he dead?” I ask, searching Jason’s gaze.
“No, but he won’t be walking for a while,” Jason answers bluntly. “Thought you might have jumped into the thick of the fight and I’d need to save your peachy ass again.”
“I might be a lot of things, but I’m not stupid enough to bring a knife to a gunfight,” I mention humorously.
Jason’s eyes warm with mirth. “Let’s get you home.”
“Whose home?” I reply, shuddering at the thought of seeing my kitchen table again.
“Ours,” he clarifies.
“What about Booker?” I arch a quizzical eyebrow.
Jason’s smirk says it all. They’ve got it covered. “Thanks to you we’ve got a confession from Marcus. And when my mom testifies, no one will ever believe Booker again. I’ve agreed to take a DNA test. And I’m happy to tell the court all about Booker’s bribery.”
Jason picks up the kitchen knife and my bag, then we go outside to see the aftermath of the shootout. Marcus is being driven away in the back of a cop car, the same as the few remaining Jackals. The unfortunate few are being bagged and tagged and shoved into a coroner’s van. Liv waves at me from the passenger seat of Dan’s police car, and he mentions to Jason that they’ll be staying at his apartment until the forensic team is done taking DNA evidence from Liv’s place. The Hawks gather around us, but instead of judgmental eyes, they regard me with awe. It seems I’ve taken one for the team, and now I’m one of them – a full-fledged member of the crew.
This time, when I go to the clubhouse, I don’t feel like an outsider. I’m part of the family. It feels good knowing I have the Knight Hawks seal of approval. I can move on from tonight and leave all the bad shit behind me.
A line in the sand.
A clean slate.
But it seems that I’ve spoken too soon because we’ve just left one warzone and stepped into another. Bodie walks through the door first, and Ivy does not seem impressed. She spits out a mouthful of orange juice with shock, then sends the glass hurtling toward Bodie.
Okay, so this confirms the Hawks didn’t go home. They must have been watching the live recording from Dan’s office.
“You bastard! I thought you were dead,” Ivy screams like a banshee.
Bodie dodges the glass, and it shatters against the wall, splattering shards of glass and juice everywhere. Tex whistles at Dude and takes him outside to do his business. The poor dog doesn’t know what’s going on. Out of everyone, he’s just ecstatic to see Bodie.
Jason pulls me out of the way, and the Hawks and their women all run for cover. We seek sanctuary in the kitchen area as Ivy stalks toward Bodie.
“I’m gonna kill you for real,” Ivy threatens.
Bodie holds up his hands, his eyes widening. “Just hear me out.”
A dull thud followed by Bodie making an “Oof” sound lets me know Ivy just kneed him where the sun doesn’t shine. I probably shouldn’t laugh, but it’s funny as fuck, and I can’t help it.
Soapbox grins, unable to help herself from looking over. “I give them two minutes and then they’ll be fucking.” She catches my eye and shrugs. “It’s their dynamic. You’ll get used to it.”
And she isn’t wrong. The fighting stops, and the kissing sounds start, and that’s when everyone turns around and pretends the gasping grunting noises aren’t really happening. I guess I shouldn’t be shocked. It is a biker gang. Anything goes. Soapbox sweeps away the broken glass so that Tex can bring Dude back inside.
“Can we join them?” Tequila asks Hustle, shaking his arm. “They’re really getting into it.”
Hustle wrinkles his nose disapprovingly. “Nah, give them some space to make up.”
Tequila pouts. “Spoilsport.”
Claws rolls her eyes and sighs. “Ugh, quit sulking and maybe I’ll let you tag-team with us later,” she mentions, getting a nod of approval from Tex.
