“What is it?”she whispers.
I swipe my thumb across her cheek again I can’t seem to stop doing that around her.“I gotta step out for a minute.”
Her fingers fist lightly into my shirt.“Alone?”
My throat works.“Yeah.”
“Why?”
There’s fear in the question, the kind that slices me in half because she doesn’t understand yet that I’m not leaving her, not really, not ever.
Not after what happened.
Not after almost losing her.
Not after feeling her remember pieces of us again.
But I can’t show her the truth of what they found.Not yet.
“Because the Kings found somethin’,” I say quietly.“And I need to see it before I let you hear it.”
She swallows.“Riot.”
I cup her face again, slow, gentle.“I’m comin’ right back.Thirty minutes tops.I’ll be on the property in the clubhouse.We’re not in Freedom Falls, but we have Kings all over the world.Chux runs Bama.You are safe here.”
She nods, even though her eyes betray how much she doesn’t want me to go.
“I’ll leave Grit and Dice right outside the door,” I add.“Locked down.No one gets in.”
Another nod.
I should walk away.
I should be a professional.
I should do my damn job.
But instead, I lean down and press my forehead to hers, breathing her in one more time.
Her breath shivers.
“Don’t be long,” she whispers.
“I won’t.”
Then, because my restraint is hanging by a thread, I brush my thumb across her bottom lip.
Her eyes flutter shut.
And I leave before I do something I can’t un-do.
The walk to the clubhouse is hell.
Thunder cracks somewhere deep in the clouds overhead, and every rumble feels synced with my rage.
They want a war?
Fine.
