“For now,” Cyclops said.
Razor growled like an angry bear. “I don’t like it when people play games on our turf.”
Cyclops finally turned toward Trixie. And the moment his eye landed on her, something in his posture changed. He seemed to be less on edge and more focused, as if locating her anchored him. She hated how much she noticed that.
He walked toward her, slow and steady, holstering his gun. He wasn’t smiling—he never really smiled—but the storm in him seemed to ease as he reached her. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
She nodded. “They weren’t here for you. They were here for me, and they won’t stop until I go with them.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that she could feel the heat of him, smell the gun smoke on his shirt. “You were the target. We knew that they’d come sooner or later. And there is no way that we’ll let you go with them.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m bringing danger to your front door.”
“You’re bringing clarity.” His voice was low, rough. “Now we know exactly how far your father will go. Which means now we know how hard we need to hit him back.”
She flinched. “You can’t go to war for me.”
He looked at her then, and every inch of him radiated certainty. “We already have.”
She staggered a step back, her breath catching. “Cyclops?—”
He followed her, not letting her retreat far. “Listen to me. You didn’t choose this war. It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of it.”
“I should leave.” The words were ripped from her chest. “I should run again. If I stay, they’ll all get hurt. You’ll get hurt.”
His jaw tightened. “If you run, you die. And if you leave now, you leave the club blind. We won’t know where they’re going next. We won’t know what they know. You’re safer here than anywhere else in the state.”
She shook her head violently. “I’m not some damsel who needs to be guarded.”
“No,” he said, stepping close enough that their breath mingled. “You’re a woman who’s been living with danger for too long and has never had a safe place to land.” Her chest constricted as he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “Let this be that place. Just for now.” His touch lingered, warm against her skin. Too warm and too steady. Trixie’s lungs felt like they were burning.
“I don’t know how to stay still,” she whispered.
“I’ll teach you,” he breathed.
She almost choked. “Cyclops?—”
He leaned in slightly, his next words brushing her lips like a promise. “Let us fight with you. Not for you, honey, but with you.” Her heart beat too hard and too fast in her chest. Someone shouted across the yard, breaking the moment.
“Cyclops, we’ve got tracks at the north perimeter!” Cyclops exhaled and stepped back, pulling the steel mask of leadership over his features again.
He nodded toward Ink. “Get her inside to a secure room. Nobody goes in or out without my say.” Trixie opened her mouth to protest, but Cyclops cut her off with one look. “We’ll talk after I see what’s out there.” And then he was gone, sprinting toward Venom and Razor.
Trixie stood frozen and trembling with adrenaline and something far more dangerous. Cyclops wasn’t just protecting her anymore. He was choosing her, and that terrified her more than any shadow in the trees.
CYCLOPS
The tracks were faint—too faint. Cyclops crouched beside Venom at the north perimeter fence, his fingers brushing over the disturbed dirt. There were three sets of heavily soled footprints. Two larger and one smaller. The smaller set stopped at the fence and vanished.
“He must have climbed a tree to spot from above,” Razor muttered. “He’s smart.”
“No, he’s experienced,” Cyclops corrected. “These guys aren’t local muscle. They are trained guys. I’m thinking that they might even be ex-military.”
Venom snorted. “They are trained to die, maybe. Because if they show back up here, that’s exactly what will happen to them.” Cyclops stood, his jaw tight. They had been probing the walls and looking for weak points. They were testing timing, rotations, and the guy’s responses. Basically, they were scouting for a real attack.
When the others moved to widen the sweep, Cyclops headed back toward the main building. He didn’t run because he didn’t need to. His stride was enough to make his brothers get out of his way. His mind wasn’t on the tracks—it was on Trixie.He knew she’d be where Ink left her—second floor, in a secure wing of the main house. It was the quietest part of the building, away from where the rest of the guys were going to be staying—him included. Unless—no, he couldn’t allow himself to hope that she’d allow him to stay with her, but he planned on staying close.
He climbed the stairs two at a time and found her standing at the window, her arms crossed over her chest, staring out into the darkness. She turned around at the sound of the door opening. “Took you long enough,” she murmured.
