Chapter 15
Swag
The second she nods, relief cuts through the fury coiled in my gut. She hops on the back of my bike without a word, slipping her arms around my waist like she’s done it a thousand times. She hasn’t. But damn if it doesn’t feel like she should have.
My jaw’s still tight as I fire up the engine. I don’t say a word to her. Not yet. If I do, I’m going to say the wrong thing. Gonna yell. Gonna scare her. And I’ve done enough damage already.
I pull out of the lot and onto the main road, weaving through traffic like I need the speed to cool me down. The air hits us hard—hot, thick with late-summer humidity—but it helps. Not enough, but a little.
Her arms tighten. I can feel her pressing into me, trusting me with her body. And that does something.
What the fuck were you thinking, Jo-Leigh? Going on a date with that snake? Letting him touch you? Letting him anywhere near you?
Rage threatens again, so I focus on the road. The streets blur by. I take the long way back to her apartment, because I’m not ready to let her go just yet. Because I need to think.
Ricky fucking Langston. I should’ve snapped his neck in that parking lot. Only reason I didn’t was because she was watching. Because she stepped in. Because if I lose my shit in front of her again, I’ll lose her for good.
She doesn’t know it, but the second I saw her in that parking lot I broke something. Inside. Broke it clean.
I slow as we near her street. She lives in a rough neighborhood, and I hate that even more now than I did before. I hate that this is where she goes at the end of the day. That there’s not a guard outside her door. That I’m not the one watching over her.
When I park the bike in front of her place, she doesn’t get off right away.
Neither do I.
We sit in silence, engines off, just breathing.
Then she says, voice low in my ear, “You scared me.”
I flinch. Not at the words. At the truth in them.
“I was scared, too,” I admit. “Scared I was too late.”
She finally lets go, sliding off the bike. I follow her, slow, measured. Watching her move. Watching her breathe.
“I’m not letting him near you again,” I tell her, voice low.
She nods once. “I don’t want him near me again.”
We lock eyes. And fuck, I want to kiss her. But this time I wait.
“I’m coming up,” I say.
She doesn’t argue. Not that it would matter. The stairs creak under my boots as I follow her up, every step heavier than the last. The building smells like mildew and cheap air freshener. Same as it did the night she locked herself in that damn room.
When she reaches her door, I don’t say a word.
I just look. It’s been replaced but it’s still the same cheap-ass composite board.
Hollow. Light. I curl my hand into a fist and knock once, just to feel it.
Thin. Wouldn’t take much to bust it down.
Wouldn’t keep me out. Wouldn’t keep Langston out, either.
She fumbles with her key and unlocks it. I follow her inside.
I can smell her soft shampoo and vanilla lotion, and it does something to me. Grounds me. Calms the storm I’ve been riding since I saw that fucker with his hands on her.
The door clicks shut behind me, but it might as well be wide open for how useless it is.
“You need a new door,” I mutter, scanning the place. “Steel core. Something that actually locks from the inside. Deadbolt. Slide chain. Reinforced frame.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “It was just replaced.”
“Yeah,” I say darkly. “By someone who didn’t care if it keeps you safe.”
She doesn’t argue.
I step past her into the small space. Living room. Kitchen. Same tiny window. Same crooked blinds. I hate it. Hate that she’s here. Hate that I didn’t know how bad it was until it was too late.
“You been sleeping okay?” I ask, still facing the window.
She doesn’t answer right away.
“I try.”
I nod. Because that’s not a no. And it sure as hell isn’t a yes. I turn back to face her. She’s hugging herself, arms wrapped tight like she’s trying to hold in all the broken parts.
“Ricky’s not going to touch you again,” I say. “You have my word.”
She swallows hard. “You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.”
Because I’ve already decided if he tries again, he won’t walk away.
I move toward her slowly, giving her space to move if she wants to. She doesn’t. She stays right there, eyes on me, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m a different kind of danger. I probably am.
But she’s mine now.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
She turns her back to me, pacing a tight little path near the couch.
“I think you should go,” she says softly.
“No.”
She whirls around, frustration painting her cheeks pink. “Swag?—”
“I said no,” I growl, stepping in close enough to feel the tension radiating off her. “You want to push me away. I get it. You’re scared. But I’m not going anywhere, Jo-Leigh.”
Her eyes narrow. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I already did.”
Her mouth opens like she’s about to argue again, but I cut her off with a single raised hand.
“You owe me.”
She blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You owe me, little bee. Three times over.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I tick them off on my fingers.
“One—when I stopped Ricky from putting his hands on you in the parking lot tonight. Two—when I stopped Ricky from hurting you all those years ago. And three…” I lean in, voice dropping low, “for that college tuition you never paid back.”
Her face hardens. “You paid for that?”
“Damn right I did.”
I didn’t. Not really. But she doesn’t need to know that it was my bleeding heart that paid for it.
She shakes her head, backing away like she’s trying to outrun the weight of the truth. “You can’t just drop this on me and expect?—”
“I’m not expecting anything,” I say. “I’m telling you how it is.”
She stops dead in her tracks.
“You owe me three debts, Jo-Leigh. And I’ve decided it’s time you start paying them back.”
“How exactly do you intend to collect?”
I give her a slow, deliberate smile. The kind that makes most people nervous.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
She goes still, wary.
“But here’s the deal,” I continue, voice calm but firm. “Each one, I’ll call in when I see fit. And when I do, you don’t get to run. You don’t get to argue. You show up, and you pay.”
She looks like she wants to scream but behind that, I see something else. Curiosity. A spark of something darker. The same fire that’s always been there, hiding under all the good-girl guilt.
“You can’t own people,” she snaps.
“I don’t want to own you. But I damn sure won’t let you slip through my fingers again. So get comfortable with the idea, little bee. Because your debt collection just started.”
“Oh yeah?” she taunts, chin tilted high. “Let me guess. You’re going to fuck me.”
I step in so close she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. She thinks she’s playing me, poking the bear to see what he’ll do.
“Oh, bee,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles down the side of her neck. Her pulse is racing. “That won’t be a debt. That’ll be a reward for both of us. A goddamn celebration.”
She scoffs, but her breath hitches, betraying her.
“No,” I continue, voice like gravel. “My first collection’s simple. You’re moving in with me. At the clubhouse.”
Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“The hell I am.”
I shrug, calm as hell even as her defiance sparks hotter.
“You owe me, Jo-Leigh. And this is how you start paying. I don’t trust your apartment. I don’t trust Langston. And I sure as fuck don’t trust whatever bullshit you think you’re doing pretending this is just going to blow over.”
“You don’t get to control my life.”
“No?” I crowd her back a step. “Then explain how every time you need saving, I’m the one who shows up. How every time you’re scared, it’s my name you say under your breath. You don’t want control, baby. You want safety. You want me.”
She doesn’t deny it. She can’t. I see the way her bottom lip trembles before she tucks it between her teeth.
“I’ve got a room ready for you. Clean sheets. Your favorite snacks in the kitchen. And you’ve got until tomorrow morning to pack a bag.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll come get you,” I say, voice like a warning wrapped in a promise. “And that won’t be nearly as polite.”
With those words I walk out of her shitty apartment already planning to collect my next debt.