“A week. To start.” His expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes softened. “Long enough for me to deal with Reeves. For us to figure out what we want from each other.” His fingers tightened slightly over mine.
I glanced away, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze while my thoughts tumbled over each other like clothes in a dryer. My free hand found the edge of the sheet, fingers working the fabric between them in nervous motion.
“I can take you to your apartment,” he continued. “You can pack what you need. Couple of the brothers will come along. Make sure we’re not followed so Reeves can’t blindside you again.”
“What about my job?” I asked, latching onto the practical concern. “I still need to work.”
“Are you required to work to keep your job?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s just kind of work when you want.”
“Good. We can play it day by day. If I can’t convince you to take a few days off, I can at least make sure you’re safe when you go.” The simplicity with which he approached these complications should have annoyed me. Instead, it was strangely reassuring.
I shifted, finally meeting his eyes again. My pulse throbbed at my wrists, at my temples, marking time in a rhythm that felt too fast. “Marcus, I barely know you,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “And yet…”
“And yet?” he echoed, the two simple words somehow encapsulating everything between us.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’ve spent my life since I ran away making careful choices, trying to keep myself as safe as I could without smothering myself. Those choices led me to a life where no one would have noticed if I disappeared.” My voice grew stronger as I continued, finding truth in the words as I spoke them. “But being with you feels like the first correct choice I’ve made. Everything is moving so fast,” I admitted, my fingers now fidgeting with the edge of the pillowcase, “but I can’t fight what I want with every fiber of my being. So I’m not going to try.”
His eyes flashed with hunger and a possession that should have frightened me. Instead, I felt an answering hunger deep in my belly. He moved his hand from mine to my cheek, calloused palm warm against my skin as he brushed my lower lip with his thumb.
I leaned into his touch, but couldn’t resist adding, with a sudden flash of humor that surprised even me, “But if you breakmy heart, I’ll cut yours out with a spork.”
The laugh that erupted from him caught me completely off guard. Not the quiet chuckle or subtle smirk I’d witnessed before, but a full, deep belly laugh that transformed his entire face. Lines I’d never seen before appeared around his eyes, his head tipped back against the headboard, and the sound… God, the sound was like music I hadn’t known I’d been waiting to hear.
“A spork?” he managed, his shoulders still shaking with mirth. “Why a spork?”
“Maximum inefficiency,” I replied, finding myself smiling in response. “I’d want it to take a while.”
Another burst of laughter, and the knot of tension I’d been carrying for so long I’d forgotten it was there suddenly loosened. The relief was so immediate I nearly gasped. Seeing this side of Marcus, unguarded, genuine humor, felt like discovering a secret garden behind a wall of thorns.
When his laughter subsided, he studied me with new eyes, as if seeing something in me he hadn’t noticed before. “I won’t break your heart, Cora.” The humor was gone, replaced by something solemn, almost reverent. “That’s a fuckin’ promise.”
I believed him. Despite everything logic told me, despite knowing him for such a short time, I believed him with a certainty that felt like coming home.
“Okay,” I said simply. “I’ll stay.”
He reached for my hand then, intertwining his fingers with mine. Our hands looked right together, his large and scarred, mine smaller though not fashionably delicate. Marcus leaned forward, his free hand cradling the back of my neck as he drew me to him. The kiss was different from those we’d shared before. Not so desperate and hungry, but soft with deep meaning. Like a promise. His lips moved against mine with deliberate tenderness.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breathing almost ragged in the quiet morning light. Whatever came next, we would face it together. And for the first time in my life, I thought I might have found the future I’d always dreamed of.
Chapter Twelve
Rancor
My phone buzzed against the nightstand, shattering our quiet moment with its harsh vibration. I reached for it, already recognizing Knuckles’ code of three short bursts that meant he’d called church. Cora’s warmth pressed against my side as I thumbed open the message, my jaw tightening as I read. “Fuck,” I muttered.
“What is it?” Cora asked.
I showed her the screen.
Common room. Now. Bring your woman.
She read it, her eyes widening slightly. “Your woman?” I watched her process the words, a tiny furrow forming between her brows. I’d promised to protect her, and now the club was demanding her presence at what was certainly going to be a strategy session about Reeves.
“Yeah, baby.” I had to smother my grin. “That’s you.”
“They want me there too?” she asked, uncertainty threading through her voice.
