But Britta wasn’t Tempi’s to control.
Britta was… Britta.
I kept my face neutral and shrugged.“If that’s what she wants to do,” I said, “then that’s what she’ll do.”
Britta’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she was waiting for the “but.”
I didn’t give it to her.“I can protect her anywhere.”
Tempi’s lips quirked, not quite convinced.
Twister stepped in smoothly because that was what he did when he wanted to guide a situation without turning it into a fight.“She’s well enough to go back to her apartment, Tempi,” Twister said.“Besides, she’ll be closer to you and the bar if she goes back.”
Tempi sighed like she hated that he was right.“Fine,” she said reluctantly.“You’re right.”Then she added, “And she’ll also be closer to Tyson since he lives in the same building as she does.”
Tyson.Britta’s older brother.
He’d been over a few times since she got shot.Big guy, protective, eyes that didn’t like me.He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to.The way he watched me said plenty.He thought I was danger.Or he thought I was just another man who’d show up in Britta’s life and make it complicated.Maybe he wasn’t wrong.
Britta laughed.“Thank you,” she said, her voice sarcastic.“Although I’m not asking for your permission.”
Tempi’s shoulders sagged.She reached across the table and squeezed Britta’s hand.“I’m sorry,” Tempi said, quieter now.“I don’t mean to be overprotective.I just… this is all my fault.”
Britta scoffed.“As if.”She leaned back carefully, then looked at Twister and me, her eyes sharp.“Your hot biker started all of this,” she said, nodding at Twister like he was a headline in a newspaper, “and I know he and his biker brothers will be the ones to finish it, right?”
There it was.
That spunk.
That spark.
It had dulled this past week.Not gone, but muted under pain and exhaustion.Seeing it flare up now did something in my chest I didn’t have a name for.
Twister’s face hardened.“This wasn’t a war we started,” he said.“But yes.We plan on finishing it.”
Britta nodded once, satisfied.“Good,” she said simply.“Then I’ll be moving back to my apartment tomorrow.”
Tempi opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Twister gave a slow nod.“Tomorrow,” he agreed.
Britta looked at me.
I didn’t smile.I didn’t soften my expression.
But my voice came out steady.“Tomorrow,” I echoed.
Because if that was what she wanted, I’d make it happen.And I’d make sure she stayed breathing.
No matter where she slept.
No matter whose porch I had to sit on.
No matter how long it took Madison to learn that the Saint’s Outlaws didn’t leave once they planted roots.
Britta wasn’t just recovering; she was reclaiming.
And I wasn’t about to be the man who stood in her way.
