The thought of that has me teetering on the edge of sanity.
I’m no good for anyone, but the thought of letting her leave—of losing her a second time—has the most unhinged thoughts crawling through my mind. Willa Elliott is the only girl I considered spending the rest of my life with, and now that she’s here, that’s rattling around again.
Could I be a better man?
For her, I’d be just about anything so long as she’d be mine.
Last night, when she walked on that stage, I snapped. I was ready to throw my body over her. To protect her.
To claim her.
From the moment I first saw her wrangling cattle, I knew that girl was meant to be mine.
Which is exactly why I walked away from her at the club last night. Once we cross that line, there’s no going back. We can’t go there until I know where she stands.
I might be chaos, but when it comes to us, Willa is the wild card.
So I walked away.
I take a deep breath and let the rumble of the engine soothe me.
It’s a cool night, perfect for riding. Spring blooms at the edges of the desert, but in the darkness, there’s nothing but shadows. The moon hangs full overhead, lighting the otherwise dark road as I take the turn into the Twisted Kings compound.
The desert stretches miles in every direction. A relief after the last couple of days I’ve had.
I haven’t seen Willa since she left the club with Soul. By the time the club closed, I passed out on the couch in the office. Early meetings turned into a surprise inspection by the city. It was one thing after another. I’ve been at Sapphire Rise for almost forty-eight hours by the time I park my bike outside the clubhouse.
I’m finally out of excuses to avoid her.
A few guys are at the bar up front when I walk into the clubhouse. I take the hallway to my room, deciding it’s better to face Willa now than put it off until I’m a walking zombie again. But when I open the door to my room, it’s empty. The sheets haven’t been slept in.
It’s only one in the morning, but she’s usually in bed by now.
I toss my wallet and keys on the dresser, then storm out of the room, ready to track her down. I shouldn’t be surprised she left after what happened, but it doesn’t stop my blood from thundering between my temples.
I’m ready to lose it by the time I round the corner to the main bar at the back of the clubhouse and spot a familiar knot of black hair peeking over one of the couches.
Willa has her back to me, but her laugh travels the room. Her dark hair bounces around because she’s always talking with her hands. She might look like a storm cloud, but she’s sunshine on a perfectly clear day.
Venom sits in a chair across from her with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. He’s grinning at whatever she said, and even if I’m a little jealous that she’s offeringhim her smile, I don’t blame him for soaking it in. It’s impossible not to feel something around that girl.
When Venom spots me, he juts his chin, welcoming me over. He knows that while I haven’t said Willa is mine, there’s a hands-off policy on her. It’s a line my brothers won’t cross out of respect. Especially Venom. He’s careful to only look the old ladies in the eyes, and he never so much as flirts with a girl if she’s been claimed by someone.
I’m tempted to steal Willa away, but I take a breath, realizing how riled up I got at the idea of her leaving.
I stop at the bar, grabbing a beer from Wren first. She offers me a friendly smile before moving on to help someone else. When I first got out of prison, Wren and I fucked around, but she didn’t get clingy or want anything more. I get the feeling she was using me for the same reasons I was using her. To chase away the demons.
It’s been a long time since we’ve been anything more than just cordial with each other.
The patio door slides open, and smoke breezes in. On a night like tonight, stressed as I am, I’d usually lose myself in a bottle of whiskey, a joint, and a patch bunny. For the past decade, that’s been the only stress relief I’ve known.
Until I glance back at Willa, and her gaze snags mine from across the room. One look and tension leaves my shoulders.
“Long night?” Venom asks when I approach, dropping onto the couch beside Willa.
“Long year.” I tip my beer back.
Willa watches me, fidgeting her fingers on her T-shirt. She paired it with the shortest pair of shorts, so it looks like she’s not wearing anything underneath.
