Banshee.
He's grinning when I open the door, but his eyes are alert, Dakota standing next to him. "Heard I'm on babysitting duty for the brats."
"I don't need a babysitter," I mutter. "And if anyone’s the brat, it’s her."
Dakota smirks and wiggles her eyebrows. "I’m not even taking offense to that," she says and pushes her way into my house.
"Hey, I’m just here to follow orders."
Shadow clasps Banshee's shoulder. "Keep her safe, brother."
Banshee's grin fades, and for a moment he's all business. "With my life."
Shadow looks at me one more time. One last look that says everything he can't say out loud.
Then he's on his bike, engine roaring to life.
I watch until he disappears down the road, my heart in my throat.
He loves me.
And I didn't get to say it back.
Banshee and I settle into awkward silence in my living room, while Dakota just keeps yapping about the rodeo.
Charlie's between us on the couch, providing a buffer, until Dakota runs off to the bathroom for a few minutes.
"So," Banshee finally says. "You and Shadow."
I look at him. "Is it that obvious?"
"To me? Yeah. To Phantom?" He tilts his head. "Not yet. But he's getting there."
I sink deeper into the couch. "Great."
"Shadow's a good man," Banshee says. "Best enforcer we've ever had. Loyal to a fault."
"I know."
"But your pop is gonna lose his shit when he finds out."
"I know that too."
Banshee grins. "You worth the fallout?"
I meet his eyes. "Yes."
His grin widens. "Good. Because Shadow thinks you are too."
We fall into more silence after that.
Banshee tells me stories about club runs, about stupid shit the prospects have done, about the time Spur tried to ride a mechanical bull and ended up in the hospital, and Dakota finally returns.
She must’ve taken a massive shit in there.
Time crawls by. I check my phone obsessively. No messages.
We fill my sister in, because what the hell—everyone is going to know about me and Shadow before we know it.
