Chapter 4
CASSIDY
After agreeing to give Killa a chance I’m unsure he deserves, the tension dropped from his shoulders, then he pulled out his phone, and his fingers flew across the keyboard.
He sat me at the table, delivering my food with a wink before he answered the door to someone.
I watched the exchange between the two men, unable to make out anything but hushed sounds.
The other guy tried to look over Killa’s shoulder, but Killa moved to block his view.
Then he slammed the door and returned to my side to dress my cut wrists, all while guilt swam in his eyes.
After breakfast, he told me to go and change, that he wanted to take me somewhere while Stella was watching Noah.
“What is this place?” I ask, glancing around the room at the scantily clad servers.
The place is full of bikers despite only being midafternoon.
“It’s called Sinners. One of our original clubs.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You brought me to a strip club?”
His eyebrows knit together, and his worried gaze studies my face. “Fuck!” He drags his fingers through his hair. “Cass, I only want you.”
Has he paid for one of them?
“We’ve had unprotected sex,” I mumble.
A growl leaves his chest. “Ain’t ever fucked anyone else bareback. Don’t have to worry about that shit. Don’t want anyone but you.” He takes a drink from his beer bottle, but his focus remains on me.
“I just have to worry about getting pregnant, right?” I fold my arms over my chest, and it’s not lost on me that I’m acting like an ungrateful brat, but we’ve had sex, and he brought me to a strip club.
“Don’t have to worry about that shit. I look after my responsibilities.”
I narrow my eyes. “What responsibilities?” Does he have children? We haven’t even discussed the basics of our lives; we’re barely hanging on by a thread to whatever this is between us. My heart thuds wildly.
“Hog, cage, house, work as a mechanic too.” He takes another drink of his beer. “Got enough green for a family.”
I try to decipher his words. I understand that a hog is a bike. “What’s a cage and green?”
He chokes on his drink and chuckles. “Cage is a car. Got a truck, to be precise”—he throws his thumb over his shoulder—“and green is cash, got that too.” He nods along with his words.
“Do you have any kids?” I ask, and something twists in my stomach as I await his response with bated breath.
He snorts and shakes his head. “Only Noah.”
My chest swells, and when he laces our fingers together, my heart stutters.
“Plan on knockin’ you up, Cass. Keepin’ you all. We’re a family, Cass, ain’t ever letting you go.”
I blink.
There’s so much to discuss, so much trust to earn on both sides, yet he’s talking about a future. One I crave.
I look over the small circular booth we sit in, then back toward the bar full of bikers. “Are they all part of your club?” I motion toward the bar.
“No. Though, most of ’em are.” He lifts a shoulder. “But they’re all good people. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be in here. Probably just passing through town.”
A woman in a thong and cropped top places two portions of burgers and fries down in front of us. “Here we go, handsome.” She smiles toward Killa, and he grins back at her; that simple action raises my blood pressure.
“My woman is about to go nuclear on you.” He tilts his head toward me. “Ain’t that right, Little Demon?”
“Shut up,” I snap, and the woman’s smile falls.
“I’m so sorry.” Her face all but pales, and she rushes away from the table.
Killa reaches over the table, and his thumb caresses down my neck. “Like seeing my mark on you.” He strokes over the bite mark I tried to cover with the only tube of makeup I own. “Gonna wear my brand today.”
He withdraws, and I miss his touch instantly. Then he digs his phone out of his pocket and types away. “Make this shit official.”
His words are ominous, but instead of analyzing them further, I dive into the food, enjoying every mouthful.