He flinched slightly.
Anyone else would have missed it, but I already knew Pagan well enough to realize that what I said hit a nerve.
Hank approached his daughter and perched on the arm of her chair. “Darlin’. Pagan here told me that he’s dealt with that bastard and his daddy. He’s promised you won’t get any more crap from them.”
I smiled to myself.
Hank’s looks and demeanor reminded me a little of my dad’s friend, John Stone. His dark hair and beard were salt and pepper, and his face was ruddy from years of working the farm. He had an air of calm strength about him that I couldn’t help liking immensely.
Peggy came bustling back into the room, holding a tray containing a coffee pot and some fresh mugs. “If Gracie wants to report what happened, it’s her choice. I’m grateful Pagan has come here today, and it makes me feel a little better that he’s guaranteed Gracie’s safety. But our girl has to do what she feels is best.”
“Can I leave my number for Gracie?” I asked, turning to her. “If you ever want help to make a complaint, or even just hang out and talk, you can call me anytime.”
Pagan’s eyes narrowed to slits. He jerked his head toward the door, and an uneasy feeling burrowed deep in my stomach.
“Thank you,” Gracie said quietly. “I’d like that.”
Peggy beamed at me. “Maybe we girls can go for coffee sometime?”
I pushed down the knot in my belly and instead, smiled brightly at her. “That would be great.”
Pagan’s expression blanked as we said our goodbyes. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, he clasped my elbow and yanked me toward his bike.
“Hey,” I exclaimed angrily, half stumbling in my attempt to keep from slipping on the icy ground.
“Shut the fuck up,” he bit out, his fingers digging painfully into my arm.
I stared at him in shock.
Pagan wasn’t this angry when he saw me kissing Kieran. Now, his body vibrated with a coiled energy that made the air shimmer around us.
We approached his bike, and he took my helmet from the handlebars and shoved it against my stomach so hard that I let out a softoof.
I leaned up to get in his face and barked, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Shut your mouth and get on the bike,” he cut out.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I snapped.
Pagan threw his leg over the motorcycle, then he turned toward me and grabbed my waist, half-lifting and half-shoving me onto the seat behind him. “Keep goin’, and you’ll get your ass beaten again, but this time, I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy it. Now, keep your big fuckin’ mouth shut, and put your helmet on.”
I let out a huff but did as he said while watching him through narrowed eyes as he shoved his helmet on. Then I grabbed hold of his jacket and held on as he pulled away fast, which was stupid because the ground was so icy.
The few miles back to the clubhouse slipped away, and I stewed in silence, not even feeling the wind whip at the fur-lined jacket Pagan had made me wear when we left to see the Youngs.
His up-and-down moods left me reeling, and if he thought I was about to live my life walking on eggshells for fear of upsetting him, he could think again.
Fuck him.
The ride back to the compound was short, but it felt endless. Every jolt of the bike made my anger spike, and it was only made worse by the reckless way he rode through the snow and ice. A few times, I panicked we’d wipe out, but thank God he was experienced enough to control the bike with ease, or else we would’ve skidded and crashed.
I held my breath through the entire white-knuckle ride until eventually, the lights from the clubhouse loomed ahead, and Pagan signaled to turn, but then he braked so hard to take the corner that the back wheel skidded precariously.
My heart leaped to my throat, and I clutched his jacket, closing my eyes and praying to my da to keep me safe. Pagan was acting like a fucking child, and frankly, I was at the point where I didn’t care why. To put us both at risk like that was a dick move.
Pagan rode to his fancy reserved president’s parking spot that took pride of place near the doors of the clubhouse and stopped the bike. Yanking off his helmet, he jerked his head for me to dismount, which I did, gladly.
“You almost killed us,” I snapped the instant I removed my helmet.
