Her lips part, trembling with something she wants to say, but she nods and disappears back inside.
Rafe chuckles under his breath. “Oh, she’s sweet. That blush. That shake. Dean, you’ve always had expensive taste. But this one? This one’s dangerous. You don’t get to play house with someone like her. The club eats little birds like that alive.”
I shove him against the wall so hard the frame rattles. “If you so much as breathe in her direction again, I’ll end you where you stand.”
And for once, Rafe doesn’t laugh. He just smiles, slowly and knowing, like he’s already won something I haven’t figured out yet.
Rafe dusts off his jacket where I shoved him, cigarette dangling forgotten from his fingers, ashes scattering across my porch. His grin is lazy, but his eyes—those are razor sharp.
“You forget who I am, Dean?” he says softly, like it’s just us, like Brooklyn isn’t only a door away. “You don’t get to threaten me. Not after what you owe. And not after you disappeared from Z like you’d found something better.”
I don’t blink. I don’t give him the satisfaction of twitching. But inside, the word owe burns like acid.
He leans close, voice dropping. “Does the girl know? Does she know what you are when the mask is on? Or does she think she’s just fucking her friend’s daddy, neat and clean?”
My fist curls, aching to end this.
“Stay away from her.”
He tilts his head, predator amused. “You’re not listening. I can’t stay away from her. Not when you’ve already dragged her into our world. I saw her outside the club, Dean. Crying. She saw enough to choke on. She’s already ours now.”
My jaw locks. “She’s mine.”
That earns a low laugh. “That possessive streak—fuck, I missed that. But mine, yours, doesn’t matter. Sooner or later, Club Z takes everything. And if she doesn’t belong to me, she’ll belong to someone worse.”
The kitchen door creaks again. Brooklyn’s shadow stretches across the floorboards. I flick a glance over my shoulder and catch her wide eyes, her trembling lips. She’s heard too much.
Rafe follows my gaze and smiles wider, teeth flashing like a wolf. “See? She’s already breaking. Doesn’t even know which one of us she should fear more.”
I step closer, blocking his view of her. My voice is steel. “If you so much as breathe her name inside that club, I’ll put you in the ground.”
For the first time, he doesn’t smile. He just flicks the cigarette into the dark and whispers, “Tick Tock, Dean. You can’t keep her safe from Z. Not even from me.”
And then he’s gone, swallowed by the night.
Behind me, Brooklyn’s whisper is raw, breaking: “What the hell was that?”
She’s trembling in the doorway, arms crossed tight against her chest like she’s holding herself together with nothing but bone and fear. Her eyes are still wet from earlier, cheeks flushed, mouth parted like she’s choking on words too sharp to swallow.
“What the hell was that?” she whispers again, louder this time, voice cracking.
I stalk toward her, shutting the door behind me with a slam that rattles the glass. The sound makes her flinch. I hate that she flinches, but I don’t stop. I cage her against the wood, hands braced on either side of her head, my body blocking out the world.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her chest rises fast, frantic. “Don’t lie to me. You think I didn’t hear? He said my name, Dean. He said—he said I’m already theirs. What does that mean? What the fuck does that mean?”
I lean closer, nose brushing her hairline, my voice dark and low so it sinks into her skin.
“It means he’s trying to scare you. That’s what men like him do. They see something pure, something they can ruin, and they circle it like vultures.”
She swallows hard, gaze darting to the door as if Rafe might appear again. “Why me? Why is he—why are you both?—”
I cut her off with a sharp tilt of her chin, forcing her eyes onto me. “Because you don’t belong in his world. You belong in mine. And if you ever run again, if you ever even think about walking out on me, you’ll crawl right into their hands. Is that what you want?”
Tears sting her eyelashes. “No—but I can’t breathe like this, Dean. You’re—” Her voice falters. “You’re suffocating me.”
My thumb drags down the damp track of her cheek. “Good. If you’re choking, it means you’re still mine to keep.”
