His gaze searched my face without pressure or impatience, simply waiting.“Nightmare?”
“My brother,” I scraped out.
Something hard settled in his expression, aimed not at me but outward, as though he’d mentally placed a target on someone beyond these walls.
“Fuck Diaz, Roth, and anyone else who put you in this situation.”A laugh tried to happen and turned into something weak.His mouth twitched, but the anger didn’t leave his eyes.“Come here.”
“I’m already here,” I muttered, but I curled into him anyway because the truth was my body had already chosen him.My forehead pressed against his chest.His arm wrapped around me again, and his hand started rubbing slow circles between my shoulder blades.My nervous system stopped screaming with each pass of his palm.
“Want to talk about it?”Kane asked, chin resting on my hair, voice soft but question genuine.
“Not really.”I breathed in, out.“Greatest hits tour.Jason.Mom And for some reason, a spray-painted word right before I woke up.That last part was new.”
His hand traveled up my spine and stopped, palm spread wide across my back as though checking I remained solid beneath his touch.“So we won’t pretend you’re fine.”
My chest constricted and released simultaneously.Terror and relief tangled together when someone truly saw me.
The quiet settled around us for several breaths.Beyond our room, the world continued.
“Spade’s going to want me in the office soon,” I murmured, because my brain liked to latch onto tasks when my emotions got too big.“He looked way too excited about those notes.”
A low huff against my hair.“You sure you’re up for it?”
“If I sit around doing nothing, my brain will eat me alive.”I closed my eyes.“Numbers and symbols feel safer than… thinking.”
He kissed my forehead.His lips lingered an extra beat -- a promise without words.
“Tell Spade when you need a break.”His voice sharpened, as though the man who could handle a cartel somehow found himself more irritated by an overcaffeinated hacker.“He’ll push you past your limits if you let him.The man forgets most humans can’t survive on caffeine and spite alone.”
“Says the ex-military biker who woke before dawn two days straight,” I shot back.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest.“Yeah, but I came pre-programmed this way.You’re still adjusting to our circus.”
“Fair enough.”
Kane held me a second longer, then released me with obvious reluctance, though he never complained.I slid out of bed and paused, waiting for my legs to remember how to work properly.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes before I come in there and steal the hot water,” he called as I grabbed a clean T-shirt and my jeans.
I looked over my shoulder, and the words slipped out before I could stop them.“You love me and my hot shower habits.”
His answer didn’t hesitate.It didn’t come dressed in jokes.“Yeah.”
My stomach flipped as though I belonged back in high school, believing foolishly love happened only to other people.I shut the bathroom door, leaned against the wood, and grinned stupidly before forcing my legs to move.
The shower routine grounded me.Hot water cascaded down my back while soap bubbles gathered between my toes.I scrubbed my hair and focused on the bathroom tiles until my brain stopped replaying the nightmare.
Kane had already dressed when I walked out.His boots stood planted on the floor, dark jeans hugged his thighs, and a worn shirt stretched across his shoulders.The leather cut lay tossed over a chair as naturally as a second skin.He glanced up from tying his laces, eyes sweeping over me with practiced efficiency, searching for tremors and shadows.
“You good enough?”The question didn’t pretend I was fine.It offered a smaller, reachable goal.
I nodded.“Good enough.”
He moved in and kissed my temple.Not demanding.Not hungry.Just a mark of presence.“Let’s go feed you before Spade eats your brain.”
* * *
The clubhouse felt like someone had turned the volume down and the tension up.
