"Got it," we all say in unison.
The meeting breaks up, but as I'm heading for the door, Devil calls my name. I turn back, and he jerks his head toward the bar. I walk over, and he pours two fingers of whiskey into a glass, sliding it toward me.
"You good?" he asks quietly.
"No." I pick up the glass but don't drink. "But I will be once we handle this."
"We will. But I need you focused. Allison needs you focused."
"I am." I finally take a drink, the burn of the whiskey familiar and grounding. "I'm not telling her about this yet. I want her to try and get back to normal. We can't take that away from her. I won't let these assholes take that away from her."
"We won't." Devil claps me on the shoulder. "Now get back to her. Let Lee and Storm handle the legwork for now."
I nod and head out, climbing back on my bike. As I ride back toward my place, I think about what Devil said. Keep Allison safe. Stay focused. Don't go off half-cocked.
But if the Clarks or the Rebels or anyone else tries to hurt her again, all bets are off. Because the woman sleeping in my bed and trying to rebuild her life after trauma, deserves to feel safe. And I'm going to make damn sure she does.
No matter what it takes.
Seven
Allison
When I wake up, I'm still on the couch with Dime, but I'm so freaking hot. It feels as if sweat is beading like crazy against my hairline.
Dime stirs beneath me. "You okay?" He asks, his arms wrapping around me.
"I'm so hot," I complain, sitting up, hoping to get some movement from the air.
"It's probably from the pain medication. I don't take it very often but every time I do, it makes me run hot. Do you want a shower?"
That sounds like the best thing anyone has ever asked me. More than anything I want to feel clean again, when right now I feel so dirty. "Yes, that sounds amazing."
"Then let's go take a shower."
He helps me up from the couch, and I lean into him as we walk down the hallway to his bathroom. My legs are still a little shaky, but his solid presence next to me makes me feel steady. Safe.
When we get into the bathroom, he turns on the water, testing it with his hand until he's satisfied with the temperature. Then he turns to me, his eyes searching my face.
"You sure about this?" he asks softly.
I nod, because I am. More sure than I've been about anything in a long time. "I'm sure."
His hands are gentle as he helps me out of his t-shirt that I've been wearing. The sweatpants follow, pooling at my feet. I should feel vulnerable standing here naked in front of him, but I don't. With Dime, I've never felt anything but safe.
He strips out of his own clothes, and then he's taking my hand, helping me step into the shower. The warm water hits my skin, and I close my eyes, tilting my head back and letting it wash over me. It feels incredible, like I'm washing away everything that's happened over the last few days.
"Turn around," Dime says, his voice low.
I do, and he reaches for the shampoo. His fingers work through my hair, massaging my scalp in a way that makes my whole body relax. I've never had anyone wash my hair before. It's intimate in a way I wasn't expecting, and tears prick at my eyes for entirely different reasons than before.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, and I can hear the reverence in his voice.
"I don't feel beautiful right now."
"You are." His hands move down to my shoulders, and he starts washing my body with the same careful attention he gave my hair. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I turn to face him, water streaming between us. "Dime…"
