Her storm-gray eyes meet mine, and my soul quiets.
“I’m going to grab another one.” Venom stands, making any excuse to go to the bar.
“Yeah, you do that.”
He glares at me when I grin, swatting at my head. But I chuckle and watch him beeline to where Wren is serving drinks.
“What was that about?” Willa asks, her eyes on the bar. “Does he like her?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He wants to fuck her. So I guess he likes her at least that much.”
Her nose scrunches, and I realize how crass that might have sounded. But I’m not used to holding my tongue anymore. When I was younger, I tried to temper my comments around her, but it’s been years since I’ve given a shit what anyone thinks.
“Are you always out this late?” She turns on the couch with her feet tucked under her so she’s facing me.
“Most nights.”
“You didn’t come back last night.” She looks away as she says it, like she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t care when that’s clearly not the case.
“I was too tired to drive.” And too drunk. But I don’t bother adding fuel to that fire.
She hums, nodding.
“I crashed on the couch in the office.”
It’s not that I owe her an explanation, but she deserves it. While I’d like to pretend what she and I did doesn’t mean anything, it’s not the truth. Touching her is like coming home to myself for the first time in a decade.
“I wish you’d have come back,” she says, surprising me with that flicker of vulnerability. “But I wish a lot of things, I guess.”
“Like what?”
She shrugs, avoiding the question.
I stretch my arm over the back of the couch, bringing us closer together. “Finish that thought.”
“Really?” Her eyebrow hitches. “Are we finally going to talk about it? No more avoiding?”
I take a sip of my beer. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
She fidgets with her T-shirt, pausing a moment, but not looking away. “I wish—” The word is still hanging in the air between us when a gunshot pierces through the music blasting from the speakers.
Time stops.
At first, I think someone is partying too hard out back. Until a bullet shatters the glass slider, and it rains glass. Bullets pelt the clubhouse, and I throw myself over Willa, pulling us both to the ground.
My eyes meet hers, and it’s like we are back at the motel room when she first got here. Except this time, there are so many more possibilities shining back. A future I never thought I’d get a chance at. A girl I assumed I’d never see again.
Fear swells like never before.
“I need you to stay down,” I tell her, swallowing my emotions so I can get us through this.
“Dean, please don’t go.” She’s shaking.
Her fingers grip the front of my cut. A glassy sheen coats her eyes.
“I have to.” This is what I do.
I protect my club.
