My jaw clenches. That mother fucker pulled his hand back, ready to hit Honey. The thought of him thinking he could put his hands on her makes my blood boil all over again. He’s a fuckingrunt, but still…she’s a tiny woman. Woman being the key fucking word.
I flex my right hand, feeling the sting in my knuckles. Shoulda’ beat the fucking brakes off that bum. I would have, too, if there hadn’t been so many witnesses.
I turn toward Honey and sigh. I wasn’t expecting to feel the way I do about her after a day. Hell, it hasn’t even been that really. Maybe a few hours.
Taking in her silhouette, I wish I knew what was going through her mind. She’s barely said a word since we left Daytona. Looking at her now, I can see that she’s wiped the fuck out.
“You okay, baby?”
She twists in her seat, glancing back at her sleeping sons before turning to me. Her bottom lip starts to tremble, and before I can say another word, her face crumbles. A soft sob rips from her throat, the sound tearing right through me.
“Ah, hell.” I reach across the console and pull her into my lap. She doesn’t resist, just collapses against me, her body shaking as she finally lets go.
I’ve been waiting for this. She held it together the whole drive to Daytona, kept it together while we got the boys, even kept it together during the confrontation with that prick.
But everybody has their breaking point, and Honey just hit hers.
“It’s okay,” I murmur into her hair, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back while the other cradles her head against my chest. “I got you.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt as she cries, and I just hold her, letting her get it all out. Each sob feels like a punch to the gut, but I don’t bother trying to quiet her. She needs this.
I close my eyes and hold onto her, doing my best to be the strength she needs.
“Let it out, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I want to kill that son of a bitch.
Fuck him. Nobody’s gonna make her cry like this again. I’ll make damn sure of it.
After a few minutes, the sobs quiet down to small hiccuping breaths, and she lifts her head. Even with mascara streaking down her cheeks and her nose all red, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you.”
“Don’t apologize.” My voice is rough. I’m not used to feeling this protective over anyone who isn’t a part of my club.
She sniffles, eyes still watery. “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas party.”
I snort. “I didn’t really want to be there anyway.”
Something ugly shifts behind her eyes before the shutters come down. She stiffens in my arms. “I should get my boys inside.”
Before I can stop her, she’s sliding back into her own seat, her hands busy straightening her clothes, fixing her hair—anything to avoid looking at me.
What the fuck just happened?
One second she’s holding onto me like I’m her lifeline, and the next she can’t get away from me fast enough.
“What’s going on?” I study her profile in the dim light.
“Nothing.” She keeps her eyes on her lap.
“Bullshit.” I know it’s something. “Something I said just now set you off.”
She starts to deny it again, but I cut her off. “You’re lying. I can see it all over your face.”
“I know about you and Sarah, okay?” The words burst out of her like she can’t hold them back anymore.
I cock my head to the side. “What do you think you know about Sarah and me?”
“That you had a thing for her. That you’ve been moping around the clubhouse because of her.” She finally looks at me, and I can see the hurt in her eyes. “The ladies I met tonight told me.”
