Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Do you think it will be much longer?” One of the party girls asks.
Reva shrugs, studying her own fingernails. “As long as it takes. But the gunshots have almost stopped.”
I was so relieved to hear Skull’s voice on the other side of that door, I almost cried. But it’s been at least an hour. Now I’m nothing but nerves and cold sweat.
Whitney puts some music on her phone and I resume pacing. “Is it always like this?” I ask.
Reva laughs. “Well…”
But she doesn’t finish.
“I’m not sure I can take this,” I reply, twisting my hair around my fingers. “Aren’t you worried sick about your men?”
“They do this for a living,” she says plainly. “You’ll see. They’re really good at dealing with this kind of crap.”
I glance at the door, the dent there a reminder that someone was trying really hard to come in here.
“We’re they trying to kidnap us?”
Whitney, Reva, and Haley all reply at the same time. “Probably.”
I freeze. “Are you serious?”
“We’re a liability, it’s part of being in the club’s circle and belonging to important men,” Reva says as if she’s saying she drives a Ford.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, will you bitches quit whining,” a woman in a leather mini-skirt moans. “I been trying to land me an old man for a fucking year.”
“Ever thought about keeping your legs shut as a strategy,” Haley asks, lifting her brow.
The vibes in the room shift dangerously close to cat fight, but a knock on the door makes all our heads snap that way.
“It’s Skull. Open the door.”
We jump into action, pushing the couch out of the way, scraping the giant thing across the concrete.
The door swings open, and Skull storms in with his eyes wild and the tendons in his neck bulging.
I gasp, covering my mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
“Ain’t mine,” he growls as he strides to me, swallowing me in a rough hug.
His leather vest carries the scent of smoke, metal, blood, and sweat.
“Church at eight in the morning. Get some rest, the compound is secure,” he rumbles to everyone. “Open meeting tomorrow. Old ladies included.”
As if he senses my uncertainty, he kisses my forehead and murmurs, “You too, sweetheart.”
When we’re alone after the girls all leave, he rubs his hands up my arms and holds me away from him. There’s a tremor in his hands and worry creasing his forehead. “I was losing my mind, Katie. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw they tried to ram the door.”
It seems like it would take a lot to rattle a man like Skull.
He’s torn up. His eyes are bright and wet, his breathing is uneven and I want to hold him and tell him everything’s okay.
But he’s covered in blood. There was murder and mayhem and I know zero about this kind of thing.
Maybe everything is not okay.
“The girls would have shot whoever came in,” I tell him, searching his face for signs he’s really okay. When I’m satisfied he’s not hurt, I tell him, “I think you should teach me how to use a gun.”
With a groan, he grabs me close to his chest, nodding into my hair. “Tomorrow. And you’ll practice every day after.”
But there’s a catch in his voice that makes me pull back.
“What is it, honey?” I ask as I press my hand over his heart. It’s beating madly, the rhythm stuttering.
He shakes his head, then exhales roughly. “They came for you, Katie-girl.”
“What?” I gasp as my skin ices over one inch at a time. “Me? Why in the world?”
“There’s more. I’ll tell you everything. But I want you to know that I will protect you with my life. We know they want you now and extra measures will be taken to protect you.”
There is not a single doubt in my mind he means what he’s saying. The man looks like he’s ready to fight the devil himself.
But I sag into him as I try to wrap my head around what he’s just told me. On top of everything else today, it feels like I’m beginning to short-circuit.
“Oh god,” I breathe.
“I know it’s a lot, sweetheart,” he says roughly. “I’m sorry. We’re going to talk about it in the meeting with my brothers so we can make a plan to end this bullshit once and for all.”
Skull leads me to his quarters, through the blood-stained hallways. Smoke lingers in the air with the a smell that feels like it could be death.
My mind is reeling as he unlaces his bruised, blood-stained fingers from mine to unlock and usher me inside his private space.
Silence hangs heavy as he takes off his cut and hangs it on the hook by the door. His arms are covered in angry, red scratches that make my heart squeeze.
“Can I get some antiseptic for your arms?”
He slowly looks at me. For a second there’s a flash of vulnerability in his gaze that I’ve never seen before.
“You don’t have to do that,” he replies in a hoarse voice. “You’ve been through hell today, and here you are worrying about me.”
No one worries about this man.
I saw it in his expression. Well, I’m going to fix that.
“It’s natural when you care about someone to want to take care of them.”
He loops an arm around my back and pulls me against his chest. The cotton of his T-shirt is damp from sweat and his muscles are warm and comforting. He smells like a man. A strong, protective, king-sized one that feels like home.
How bizarre.
I’ve never felt like this before.
When he buries his nose in my hair, he groans, making me wonder if he has the same feeling.
“Why don’t you get a shower,” I say, hugging his waist, pressing my cheek against his chest. “Afterward I’ll put some cream on all these scratches. Then we can get some sleep.”
My eyelids are already heavy.
“That sounds like the smart thing to do. But I don’t know if I’ll sleep while keeping one eye on the door tonight.”
I step back and take his hand. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed after the shower.”
He follows me into the bathroom, shedding his shirt along the way, revealing the deep contours of his muscles. His eyes are serious as he helps me out of my dress, and boots.
“When did this turn into a shower for two?”
“When I decided having you outside the shower is too far away from me.”
“Speaking of showers, I need some of my clothes,” I tell him. “I can’t keep wearing this dress.”
A half-grin tucks up one corner of his mouth. “There’s plenty of T-shirts in that closet that will make dresses for you.”
“Oh?” I ask, quirking a brow. “You want me in your shirts.”
“Every fucking day,” he growls as he drags me roughly against his naked body, both his hands around my waist.
When he drops his mouth to mine it’s the kind of kiss that knocks the wind out of you, and sets one thing straight—he’s taking what’s his.
I fumble for the shower’s knob, somehow getting the water to the right temperature while he devours me. My heart is in melt-down mode by the time he lifts me into the shower.
“No sex,” he grumbles, to my surprise. “Not tonight. I’ll be too rough.”
I soap his chest as I fake pout. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me, baby. I know my limits.”
He shampoos my hair, washes me from head to toe, sliding those calloused palms all over my body until I’m buzzing with tingles and not sure how I’ll make it through the night without getting what I’m craving.
His weight on top of me, his thickness filling me.
But I respect his wish. I know if I was the one who was too wound up, he’d respect that. Or fix it.
That’s the kind of man he is. See a problem, fix it. Point being, he got my belongings back.
“You doing okay?” He asks when he realizes I’m frowning.
“Just thinking. I don’t understand what the mob told you.”
He kisses the frown line between my brows. “Leave it for tomorrow. We’re not solving this tonight. The compound is on serious lockdown. We’ve got twice the guards as usual on the perimeter.”
“I should feel more worried, but I have to trust you. I don’t have anywhere else to go that would even come close,” I say as he bundles me in a fluffy white towel that once again reminds me that this man is a walking contradiction.
The towels he has aren’t at all what I would expect an outlaw biker to have.
My stomach chooses the moment we’re crawling into bed to growl.
”Woman,” he rasps, narrowing his eyes. “Did you eat tonight?”
“I nibbled.”
He’s stalking out of the bedroom before I have time to register he’s not getting in bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing you something to eat. You never go to bed hungry when you’re mine to take care of.”
I slip on one of his T-shirts and pad barefoot into the kitchen. It’s tidy and compact, which means he looks even bigger in his naked glory at the stove.
When a lid slips off the counter and into the stainless steel sink, I gasp. My heart shoots up into my throat as I grip the edge of the kitchen counter. He’s on me a second later. “Christ, I’m sorry. That was loud as fuck.
“No, I’m sorry,” I say breathlessly. “Ever since my brother broke into my place I’ve been like this.”
His eyes flash with anger. He smoothes a hand over my hair, but his voice is edgy. “I should bury him for scaring you.”