You can handle as much as you need to, for your daughter.
Shit. My head’s not in a good place right now.
Ringo helps me off his bike, and when he tries to assist me with my helmet, I bat his hands away, only for him to bat at mine.
“Not happening, Angel. Let me do it.”
My shoulders drop as I sigh, and he takes that cue to help slide off the helmet, my head immediately dropping, my eyes focusing on his boots.
“Eyes up,” he demands, and I want to deny him. I want to be a brat and tell him to piss right off.
But I also don’t want to do that. He hasn’t done anything wrong. All he’s done is support me. Turned his life upside down for me. Put his family in danger for me. All because he loves me.
And I love him.
So, even as moody as I am, I give in to the part of me that wants to be ordered around. That’s used to being ordered around, and I glance up at my husband.
His eyes soften when he takes me in, his big hands coming up to engulf each side of my face, those big, calloused thumbs grazing under each eye to wipe away my tears.
“She’ll be safe. This will all be over soon.”
I nod, because I don’t think I can talk without sobbing, and he leans in, pressing a bearded kiss to my forehead.
And just like that, I sink into him once again.
He’s my place to fall. I’ll never not need him.
“Now you’re onmyfucking land.” Smitty’s grating voice has me stiffening, the sound of his boots pounding across the gravel behind me stopping as he speaks again. “Tell me why the fuck you kicked us off your property.”
“It’s complicated, and something I’m not willing to discuss until I know more.” Ringo sighs, clearly not wanting to deal with his President.
Easing from Ringo’s grip, I turn to face Smitty, my eyes narrowing to slits as I lock onto someone Icantake my anger out on.
“Yourland?” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I thought this land belonged to the Southern Sadists, not Nate Smith.”
“Angel,” Ringo warns under his breath, but I ignore him, quirking a brow at Smitty.
“Same fucking thing,” Smitty snaps, glaring back at me, and jabbing a finger my way. “You’re getting a little too big for those size six girly shoes, Charity.”
My face falls at the name.
I should turn and slap Ringo since he was the one who started that shit. But instead, I keep my focus on the loopy leader of the club.
“They are still smaller than that head of yours,” I point out, and Smitty’s jaw clicks as he stares at me.
“Stop glaring at my wife.” Ringo’s hands come down on my shoulders, steering me away. “She has a fucking point.”
“It’s a big, but beautiful head, don’t you think?” Smitty smirks, and I roll my eyes.
“I think not.”
He scoffs as Celina sidles up to him, flashing me a smile as her hand presses to his chest with affection. “It’s a veryhandsomePresidential head.”
I can’t help but snort, and Smitty growls a ‘thanks’to her, groping her arse and lifting her by her globes as she wraps her legs around him.
I don’t know what she sees in that man. He’s unpredictable. Irritating. And far too full of himself for my liking.
Then again, perhaps I’m just in too much of a pissy mood.
