She nods, a sheen of tears in her eyes.
“Fuck! I’m so goddamn sorry. But I swear to god, I won’t let anyone take this baby from you. No one. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” she whispers with a sob.
I wrap my hands around hers.
“So you don’t hate me?” she whispers, her voice small.
“Oh god, Legs, I never hated you. I hated myself. I still do when I see the damage I caused.”
She shuffles closer and presses her head to my chest, her tears soaking my skin. “I don’t know where we go from here,” she admits.
“It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as you take me with you. I need you, Legs. I need both of you,” I tell her softly, my hand stroking her stomach.
Neither of us speaks after that. We lie there in the dark, her head on my chest, my hand on our future.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Legs
The bangingon the door makes me jump out of my skin. I bolt upright in bed, panic clawing at me until I remember where I am and who I’m with.
Midas jumps out of bed, grabbing his gun from the dresser before he storms over to the door, buck naked. I wrap the sheet around myself and climb from the bed, hurrying to the bedroom door so I can hear without putting myself in a position that will have Midas losing his mind.
When I recognize Powers’s voice, I hover for a second, but figuring it’s club business, I close the door and move over to the closet. I pull out one of the dresses we picked up and some clean underwear before hurrying to the bathroom. I take the world’s fastest shower before quickly getting dressed, happy that my stomach seems relatively settled.
I walk back into the bedroom just as Midas storms back in. He stops dead when he sees me, his eyes moving over my dress, his cock going from soft to hard in a second. I lick my lips, hating that he has this effect on me while secretly taking pleasure from his body’s reaction to mine.
“There’s been an incident. We need to head to the clubhouse.”
“What happened? Is everyone okay?”
“I don’t know all the details yet, but Kiki got run off the road. She’s fine, just shaken up,” he reassures me when he sees my face. Kiki might not be my favorite person, but I don’t want to see anyone hurt.
He gets dressed as he continues talking, so I quickly pull my hair up into a ponytail, find a pair of ballet pumps, and slip them on.
“She and Tina went to do the food run this morning. Only Tina got sick, so Kiki called a prospect to collect her.”
“Which left Kiki alone.” Shit.
He slips his cut on after lacing up his boots and tucks his gun away before walking over to me. He cups my face with his hands, staring at me. “I know we’re in a weird place, and you’ve made me no promises, but I need you to remember something while we’re at the clubhouse.”
I brace, waiting for him to tell me to keep things about us quiet or to lie about something. I think about sitting in the corner while he makes out with Kiki so nobody thinks we’re in a relationship, and I feel myself getting nauseous.
“I need you to remember that just because you’re not sure about things, doesn’t mean I’m not. If someone puts a single finger on you, I’ll break it. I’m not kidding. The only thing stopping me from walking in there and declaring you my old lady, is that I know you’re not ready for that.”
My mouth drops open in shock. What the fuck?
“You’re mine, Legs. You always have been. It just took me a hot minute to get my head out of my ass.” He leans over me, his frame dwarfing mine as he presses his forehead to mine. “And I don’t fucking share,” he growls, daring me to say otherwise. But I’m still dealing with the rest of it. It is everything I wished for,but the blinding happiness I would have felt before is instead a hollow melancholy filled with what-ifs. What if he said it sooner? What if I say yes now, and he uses this to humiliate me later down the line? I flinch at that line of thought, hating myself for going there, but it wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?
“I hate that look on your face because I know you’re reliving the pain I caused. Just don’t give up on me yet, Legs.”
I swallow, trying to find my voice, but it’s stuck in my throat, and I’m half worried it will come out in a sob. I take a moment to get my shit under control before I look up at him. When he flinches, I know he can see the heartbreak in my eyes. My vision blurs as they flood with tears, but I refuse to let them fall.
“I should feel like I’m going home. Instead, I feel like I’m returning to a crime scene.”
“Because that’s where I hurt you,” he whispers.
