Cassidy
When I messaged Gavin off the burner phone I keep hidden in Noah’s pajama drawer, I knew he’d respond straight away. The man is a saint, and while I know the kind of relationship we have isn’t the norm in our situation, I’m grateful for it.
Shortly after Benjamin’s arrest, Noah and I were placed in protective custody, in the care of Gavin and his wife, Charlene, who is a nurse.
They helped us get back on our feet, and with the contacts Gavin has, he was able to assist us with relocating.
What I didn’t expect was our location to be in the middle of a hate-filled vendetta with an MC club.
I know danger when I see it, and from the moment I locked eyes with Killa in the courtroom, I became immersed in his aura.
“Really, Gavin? The MC club that hates Benjamin and therefore hates me!” I pout like a petulant child.
I chew on my bottom lip to stop the laugh bubbling up inside me.
If only he knew how wrong he was. I’m unsure of how much to tell him.
If I tell him about what’s been happening with Killa, he’d have us packed up and relocated in the span of a few hours, and my stomach rolls at the possibility of never seeing him again.
Never feeling his touch. The roughness of his hatred followed by the tenderness of his guilt. “But what if they do realize who I am?”
Gavin scans my face, and I try my best to school my features and remain impassive, something I’ve become incredible at doing over the years.
“I figured you would be safe here. They won’t recognize you, Cassidy,” he says with confidence and a bright smile, waving his hand through the air between us.
Gone is the clean-cut, blond-haired girl-next-door look, and in its place, a dark-haired young woman who looks like she can kick ass.
“The Unholy MC has a reputation. I told you about them already, do you remember?” He studies my face, and I nod, causing his shoulders to relax.
“Just stay away from them, and they won’t suspect a thing. ”
My mind whirls with his reasoning, and I have to give him credit for his thinking, and maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t on Killa’s radar from the courtroom, I might have stood a chance.
“How’s Noah settling in at school?” he asks, and I’m grateful for the change in subject.
I slowly munch on another fry, savoring every morsel before answering while ignoring the amused expression on his handsome face. From the moment I was in his care, my manners were something he found odd, I guess. Benjamin instilled them in me, and we both engrained them in Noah.
“Good. But they have him under the care of a doctor.”
Gavin nods, and I scan his face. Of course, he set this up, or at least Charlene did.
“She’s the best in the area, an asset to the hospital, and she visits schools,” he says with a confident smile, confirming my suspicions, and my face falls.
Do they really think I need this much support?
“Hey, sweetie.” He strokes my hand, and I try to hide the grimace his touch brings.
Pulling my hand away, I tuck it under the table.
It’s nothing personal toward Gavin, but after being starved of affection for so long, the only touch I’ve ever welcomed is that of a man who hates me, and my son’s touch, of course.
“Still don’t like being touched, huh? That’s something else we need to work on.”
I throw my head back on a sarcastic laugh.
If only he knew.
“Who the fuck are you?” A growl comes from the man suddenly standing beside the booth.
Holy shit. I was so lost in my mind I missed the sound of Killa’s heavy boots. I’m usually so attuned to his presence I can’t help but anticipate it and what comes with it.
My cheeks glow at the thought, and I dart my gaze between Gavin’s and Killa’s.
The silent stare-off between them is bordering on violent.
A venom-filled glare radiates from Killa, whereas Gavin’s eyes hold intrigue.
Slowly, he turns his attention toward me, and I drop my gaze to the table in a manner that could be deemed as submissive.
“Asked you a fuckin’ question,” Killa barks, making me jolt, and Gavin’s muscles flex in his shoulders. Customers start to become aware of the commotion, quieting and staring in our direction. Panic wells inside me as I scan the room, hoping nobody has realized I’m the center of the standoff.
“Cass, scoot over.” Killa tips his chin toward the window in a softer tone that has me making room for him to sit down, and relief floods me when people avert their gazes and get back to their conversations, thinking the situation has been resolved.
If only they knew.
Killa’s broad body fills the space, and when one of his legs brushes mine, coupled with the smokey scent and his cologne, a wave of arousal floods me.
He throws one arm over the back of the booth and plays with the tendrils of hair that have fallen from my ponytail. Then he brushes over the bite mark on my neck, and I want to slide beneath the table for not thinking of wearing my hair down to cover it up.
Gavin eyes us, and his gaze latches onto the mark, but I’m hoping he can see the pleading in my eyes to step carefully and not to anger Killa.
“Suggest you start speakin’.” Killa flicks open a penknife with his free hand, then closes it, then flicks it open, hypnotizing me when I realize this is quite possibly the same knife that assisted his assault on the blond guy.
Gavin’s focus remains steadfast, and I have to hand it to him, he doesn’t wither under Killa’s demand. But when he surveys Killa’s thumb stroking soft circles on my shoulder, I see the resolution slip away.
“My name is Gavin Warriner.” He extends his hand across the table, and I find myself placing a reassuring hand on Killa’s solid thigh, not missing the twitch my touch brings. But he stares at Gavin and ignores his outstretched hand.
“Why the fuck do I recognize your name?” Killa’s eyes are filled with danger, bordering on insane, and he licks his bottom lip like a predator as he sits forward.
The air shifts between us.
“Are you going to answer my questions, or am I going to force you?”
Gavin chuckles, but it lacks amusement, and I want the ground to swallow me whole.
My phone buzzing cuts through the air, and I stiffen when I see it’s the school calling. My heart hammers, my mouth becomes dry, and sickness coils in my stomach, then I fumble with the keys to answer, dropping the phone onto the table in the process.
Oh God, it’s Noah.
I can feel it in my gut.
Just like before.
“Shhh, I got you, baby,” Killa whispers in my ear as he trails one hand up and down my arm while the other answers the phone and places it on speaker.
“Hello, is this Miss Steel?”
“She’s driving at the minute.” He lies with ease while pulling me into his solid side, and I inhale his scent to bring me comfort.
“Can you inform her that there’s been an incident at school with her son, Noah, and for her to call in and discuss it, please?”
An involuntary whimper leaves me. “What incident? Is Noah okay?” he barks out, and his arm coils around me harder.
“He’s okay now. Please, can you reassure Miss Steel everything is fine.”
It does nothing to settle me.
“We’ll be right down.” He ends the call, and before I know what’s happening, he’s hauling me to my feet. Then he lifts my chin with his thumb. “You gonna be able to hold on?”
I furrow my brow.
“My hog.” He tips his head toward the parking lot, and my gaze follows, landing on his motorcycle. My eyes widen. “Gotta hold on tight,” he whispers, searching my face for something, and I find myself nodding. “Good girl.” He grins back at me.
Gavin clears his throat, and I move to step back, but Killa’s hold on me is powerful, possessive, and damn near rapture.
Killa’s head tilts to the side. “I haven’t fuckin’ finished with you, suit. Sleep with one eye open, motherfucker. I have questions.”
My mouth falls open, and I stand in stunned silence, waiting for Gavin to reply with a rebuttal.
His smile grows, and he steps forward, slapping Killa on the back, causing him to jolt.
“I look forward to it. Send Noah my love, Cassidy.” Then he winks at me before exiting the diner and leaving me a bundle of nerves.
“Gonna have to talk about this shit, Cass.” He points in Gavin’s direction. “But let’s sort Noah first.”
Without giving me room to argue, he entwines our hands and leads me out of the diner. All the while, my heart is pumping with happiness despite the anxiety gnawing at me regarding Noah.
He climbs onto his bike, then holds out his hand for me. I throw one leg over, and he drags my ass down the seat until I’m flush against his back and my arms are wrapped around his solid stomach.
“Hang on tight, Cass,” he shouts, then shoves my hands up his T-shirt, and just the feel of his bare skin against mine has me clenching my thighs. He chuckles, and when the bike roars to life, I let out a yelp.
His thick palm lands on my thigh, holding me firmly in place, and the rumble of the bike sends a flash of excitement through me.
“I’m about to take you to new heights, Little Demon. Do you think you can ride with the devil?” he shouts over his shoulder, and the sudden chill in the breeze hits me, causing me to bury my head against his cut, seeking out his protection.
Closing my eyes, I will this moment to never end.
The feeling of freedom, the wind in my hair, and my body alive, reminding me I’m free.
Finally.