“Wait, really?”
I lean against the doorframe and nod. “The guy whom I fired was juicing, which would have been a fireable offense on its own if I’d noticed, but I’ve been a little distracted lately.” She flushes and dips her head. “Not just because of you, Citi, but also losing Ella, too. I’ll be the first to admit, my head hasn’t been in the game.
“What brought it to a head, though, was him sparring with one of the other guys and breaking his leg even though the guy had tapped out.”
“Oh my god.” She tugs the chain back and pulls the door open. “Is the guy with the broken leg okay?”
“He will be, but he’s also the guy who quit. Turns out a lot of people were standing around cheering when it went down, ignoring him when he was shouting for help.”
Oh, she looks seriously ticked now. “They ignored him?”
“Some of them said they thought it was all just part of the fight until it was too late. The others are used to that kind of fighting in other gyms, and as bikers run this one, they thought nothing of it.”
“Thought nothing of it? A man was hurt, and they thought nothing of it?”
“Needless to say, they’ve all been given warnings and they won’t get another. They fuck up again, and they’re out. They’re also being monitored and retrained, which means I had to pull in a bunch of favors from old friends, the prospects, and even some of the brothers.”
“So you really have just been busy?” She moves aside and indicates for me to come in.
“I have, but I could have called and let you know. For that, I’m sorry.”
She bites her lip and nods, her eyes moving to Capone, who is idling at the curb.
“He’s waiting on pizza.”
“Oh. I was going to cook.”
“Well, now you don’t have to.” I wait for her to close the door before I push her against it, my front to her back. I dip my head and let my lips skim over her ear.
“I missed you, angel.”
She shudders under my touch, but she doesn’t lock up with fear. She turns to face me, so I’m leaning over her, my arms caged above her head.
“I thought you ran. I thought I disgusted you with what I said.”
I press my forehead against hers. “Never. I won’t lie and say it didn’t fuck with my head—because it did, but not in the way you’re thinking. I still can’t put into words what I feel, but I’m not disgusted by you. I’m horrified that was your and Star’s only means of escape. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”
“Just don’t tell everyone, okay? How you feel won’t necessarily be the same way others feel. And I don’t want to face judgment from a bunch of people who have never walked in my shoes.”
“I won’t say anything. It’s not my story to tell. But I don’t honestly think people would judge you negatively.”
“Perhaps not the people who know me and can see how much I love my daughter, but others? You’d be surprised what people think. Some people would straight up vilify me because murder is murder. And in some respects, I get that. But it’s the mentality of those who would think I should have endured, should have let my child endure, even knowing her tiny body is in no way developed enough to survive that level of…attention. They’d curse me out for taking her life because while she’s alive, there is still hope, right? But hope for what, Ambros? I spent fifteen years hoping and praying for a hero and then for the reaper. Iburied babies while I was still bleeding from delivering them. Is that what I could hope for Star’s future too?”
She sighs, her heartbreak in her eyes. “There were no heroes in that house to save me, no god to answer my screams. All I had was a monster with a fetish and a countdown of the days I had left. You want to know, honestly, what my biggest regret is? It’s that I didn’t lose hope sooner. If I’d killed myself way back in the beginning, I wouldn’t have pieces of my soul out there buried under a blanket of wildflowers. I wouldn’t have a daughter who is too traumatized to speak, or sleep in her own bed, and that’s just from witnessing what happened to me. To the rest of the world, Jasper is dead. But to me and Star, particularly when we close our eyes, he is very much still with us.”
“Tell me what I can do to help.”
“You are helping. Just having you around helps, even if I have no idea what’s happening with us right now. You make me feel safe. That doesn’t mean I only want you for that reason…you get that right? That’s why I took Star home to my father’s while I was trying to find my feet. I had to help myself before I could let others step in, or I knew I’d use them as a crutch—use you as one. I had to know what I felt was real and not some kind of hero worship, and I didn’t trust myself to know the difference.”
“And now?”
“I can live my life without you. I survived before you walking into my life, and I’ll survive if you walk away.”
I slide my fingers across the apple of her cheek. “Which means?”
“It means I want you here, because you’re funny, sweet, kind, and you make me feel things I’m not yet ready to put a label on. The keyword is want. I want you here. But I don’t need you to be.”
I press my lips to hers, kissing her softly, coaxing her to kiss me back. She melts into me, her hands gripping the front of mycut as I nip her lip with my teeth and soothe the sting with a swipe of my tongue.
