Chapter 29
The gate is open when I tear into the compound. The guard must have heard me coming, or someone warned him.
Fuck!
I nearly run over a prospect when I realize what’s happening.
Oh my god.
Vera was supposed to still be asleep, safe in my bed. Instead she’s beating the windows of my pick-up truck with a piece of wood.
I throw the side stand down and take off for her. Prez is standing on the grass watching. He grabs my cut as I storm past, somehow jerking me to a stop.
“Jesus, you’re just going to let her,” I snap. “She could hurt herself.”
“Your woman’s fine. Angry as fuck because I wouldn’t let her leave. Course she was angry already when stopped her. That’s on you.”
“So you let her—” I can’t even think of a single word for what I’m watching.
“She wanted to know which truck was yours so she could steal it and ram the gate. It was locked. She wanted in, said something about watching a video once on hotwiring cars.”
Christ. Vera snapped. This isn’t the prim, vintage-wearing accountant that met me in that parking lot.
Somewhere between getting arrested and me drugging her, she completely came unglued.
With a chuckle, Prez lets go of my cut. “She needs to work out her anger. Reminds me of someone else. Instead of the punching bag, she’s using your truck.”
I’m breathing like an out of tune motorcycle, my brain is cooking like I’m submerged in lava, but I can’t seem to make my feet move as my hot AF accountant bashes the shit out of my Ford.
It should not be sexy.
But her face is flushed, her hair is wild. My T-shirt is hanging off of her shoulder, and all I can think about doing is dragging her back to bed to let her take that anger out on me.
“Did you work Wallace over?” Prez asks casually as I stare at Vera.
“I got the confession.”
He makes a pleased sound. “Rio and his guy got the files. Reingold’s team has them now.”
Vera catches sight of me suddenly. She freezes.
We stare at each other from fifty yards apart. Like the day we met.
Only everything has changed.
“Looks like you got your work cut out for you.” Prez slaps me on the back. “Glad it’s you, not me. I’ll stick to plants.”
He walks away, heading toward the greenhouse. Whistling. The bastard. Of course, I got myself into this in every fucking way possible. From the cash drop to the laced water I gave Vera.
My woman drops the piece of wood. No, drops is the wrong word. She slams it to the ground. Her hands go to her hips.
She’s breathing hard. My own chest is in a vise.
“You are a bastard. You drugged me.”
“It wasn’t my smartest move.”
“You better explain why,” she snarls, glare burning me.
“Because I needed to do something.”
She snorts. “Like ruin my trust.”
Ouch.
“No. Keep you safe.”
Her spine straightens more. “By leaving me in an outlaw motorcycle club, unconscious, where anything could have happened.”
“Six is a doctor, Katie was there.”
She looks away, dragging those angry eyes toward the tree.
“I wanted to make sure nothing happened to you while you slept.”
“Quit being lovely.”
My throat finally works. I swallow down the rock that’s been sitting there since I pulled in.
“I’m not lovely. I’m a mean, morally corrupt monster.”
She taps her foot. “Go on.”
“I’m a career criminal.”
Her chin lifts. “Go on,” she orders.
“I’m hollow on the inside, it’s why I do the dirty work for the club.”
“You’re not hollow on the inside.”
I clutch the center of my chest behind my cut. There’s a weird, heavy pain there.
“I’m not a good man.”
She slowly looks at me.
“You deserve better,” I tell her. My voice is all gravel now, and the pump inside my ribcage is struggling.
“What were you doing, Tobias?”
I unfurl my fists, the ones that have committed thousands of crimes. Many against other men.
“I was getting a confession out of your boss.”
Her shoulders cave, her mouth pressing flat. Finally she speaks in a rasp. “You could go to jail for that, Tobias.”
“I deserve that if it happens. You didn’t deserve what he did to you. I had to make it right.”
“A coerced confession…”
“Not coerced. A confession from a man who woke up in a nightmare and decided to change his ways.”
She processes that, her intelligent eyes watching me.
“He scares easily,” I explain.
“You didn’t beat him?”
“Not one punch.”
More of the tension bleeds out of her. I finally take a step forward. Then another. And she watches as I close the distance until I’m standing close enough for her to look up at me.
“I feel really bad about drugging you.”
“You could have just told me where you were going.”
When I lay my hand on her neck, wrapping my fingers around the back, I shake my head. “You wouldn’t have let me walk out the door without…”
“Without what?” she challenges.
“Without me having to lie to you.”
Vera’s pretty eyes blink. Mist coating them. “You didn’t lie to me, did you?”
I shake my head. “I won’t, Vera. But you may not want to hear about the things I do.”
Glancing around, she makes a sound. “I can’t believe this is my life.”
As I lower my mouth to hers, I whisper roughly, “I can’t believe this is mine.”
The angry tears she shed are still salty on her lips, and her hands are trembling as they grab my shirt.
“I owe you some money for the truck,” she says matter-of-factly when I pull back.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“It was a nice truck,” she says.
“It’s just glass.”
She glances over her shoulder. “I might have scratched the paint.”
“It’s just paint.”
With a sigh, she says, “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
I pull her tight against my body. “Yeah, and I fucking love it.”
After a moment, Vera pulls away, pushing both her hands into her hair. “I’ve never done anything like that. It was very cathartic.”
“Let me introduce you to my punching bag. But you’ll wear gloves.”
“Are you serious?”
I stalk her, wrapping my arm around her waist. “I’m serious about everything with you, Vera.”
“You’re fogging up my brain.”
“Good.” I kiss her again until a motorcycle comes roaring into the lot.
Ranger yells, “The cops are coming!”
Every single person in the compound scrambles.
I drag Vera toward the main building.
“What does that mean?” she sputters.
“I don’t know.”