Even half asleep, she has something to say. Maybe there is something to Cupid’s arrow because everything had to come together in such a way for Addyson to end up right where she belongs.
In my arms.
I can tell the moment she falls asleep, her breathing evening out and the last of the tension in her body melting away.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
I whisper the words into the night while a threat circles the woman my soul has claimed. Nothing is ever going to be the same again.
The weirdest part is that I’m okay with it. As long as she’s at my side.
CHAPTER 8
ADDYSON
I was not paying attention last night when Mayhem, I mean Briggs, led me to his room. To be honest, I just followed the big dangerous biker without a second thought. There wasn’t a lot of thinking as I allowed myself to break in his arms either.
Let’s not even think about how I allowed him to undress me and then slide his own shirt, direct from his body, on me. I’ve never had a man look at me the way he did. It was more than hunger or even want. It was a need that ran deeper than I wanted to think about last night.
Now, with morning light peeking in through the curtains and the bed empty next to me, I’m not sure what to think. I’m glad I was able to take a shower, with all my stuff, and put on my clothing, including underwear. I don’t think I would be able to handle being on the run without something that is mine.
It’s silly to find comfort in skin care, but here we are.
I’m feeling a little better after getting off the phone with Tallulah and Jensen. They told me to go and grab some breakfast and that they would start preparing for me to come to New Orleans.
My gut is telling me Mayhem won’t react well to such a plan. With Wagner being an unknown, hiding feels like the smart, and only, thing to do. I see no reason to run headlong into danger. I’m not a fan of horror movies, thanks, too much screaming.
Now that my best friend and the brother I never asked for know I’m safe, I can admit just how hungry I am. It could be my imagination, but I swear I smell bacon.
“You’re not a prisoner,” I mumble to myself from the doorway of Mayhem’s room. I’m gnawing on my lip as I stare down the hall. “Go and find the man who snuck out of bed this morning.”
That gets my feet moving. I’m not exactly sure what I expected, but waking up alone was not it. The worst part? I slept better than I had in days. Not a single nightmare touched me. I didn’t hear his voice whispering in my ear.
I feel like I can think again. Exhaustion is no fucking joke.
When I freeze, the sound of men talking with a few female notes coming from the doorway ahead of me and to the right, I realize I’ve actually tiptoed down the hallway. I must look fucking ridiculous.
I run my fingers through my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun with sharp, angry movements. I can’t help it. I’m frustrated as hell.
When I pad into the kitchen in slippers because an overnight bag isn’t complete without slippers when you don’t know where you’ll be walking, all conversation halts.
Right. Okay.
This is fine and not at all awkward.
Upon my initial sweep of the room, I don’t see a single person I recognize. Of course, that could be because everyone blurs together. Because I’m awesome, I wave awkwardly.
“Good morning,” I chirp the words and fight the desire to run back to Mayhem’s room. “I’m Addyson.”
Embarrassment heats my face. Just when I’m about to turn away and slip right back through the same door I came through, Mayhem—ahem, Briggs—is there. His large hand finds the small of my back and his touch grounds me.
“Good morning, Tempest,” his voice has a softness to it that makes me want to wrap my arms around him and never let him go. It’s silly, but true. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I was hoping you’d sleep a little longer and I’d be back with a plate for you by then.”
I clear my throat, unable to stop myself from glancing around. Everyone is listening to our conversation, and no one is pretending not to.
Great. They’re also nosey.
Perfect.
