She looks across to me with those crystal blue eyes. “Yeah. Maybe you’re not the asshole I thought you were after all.”
And there it is. I can see the walls around her slowly beginning to crumble.
Trust.
The corner of my mouth twitches. “Bet that hurt to say.”
She fights a smile, swatting my bicep with the back of her hand. “Shut up. You’re still an asshole. Just… a smaller one.”
I chuckle.
“And you were right earlier, I am a hypocrite. I let my father’s opinions about you and the club influence mine and I’m sorry.”
“I guess we’re all a product of our parents to some degree.”
“I’d rather die than being anything like mine.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Given who your father is, you haven’t turned out so bad.”
“You really mean that?”
I nod.
She watches me, her eyes searching mine for any hint that I’m lying.
“I’ll uh…” I clear my throat, forcing my eyes out the windshield, breaking whatever the hell that was. “I’ll get one of the prospects at the garage to tow your car in the morning, get it fixed up for you.”
“Thank you. For everything today.”
I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
She hesitates for a moment before pulling her phone out from her bag, unlocks it and places it in my open palm. I add myself as a contact and send myself a quick message so I have her number before handing it back. “Call me if you ever need me, and I’ll always answer. Night or day.”
She narrows her eyes skeptically as she takes her phone from me. “Careful, you’ll have me believing you’re actually a nice guy.”
I only wish I was. “Okay, you caught me, I’m available as a booty call should the need arise.”
She snorts a laugh, and if that isn’t the cutest fucking sound in the world. “Andthe Killian Hunt I know and loathe is back in the truck.”
I laugh softly.
Pushing open the passenger door, she looks back at me over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Killian.”
“’Night, butterfly.” The nickname slips out so naturally I don’t realise I’ve even said it until it’s out. I don’t know when or why I started calling her that, but it feels weirdly right.
She gives me a small smile before she climbs out of my truck and I sit there idling on the side of the road, waiting until she’s safely inside her house before pulling away.
She doesn’t deserve what you have planned,a tiny voice in my head tells me but I do my best to silence it.
A part of me feels almost bad about using her as collateral damage in my plan, and sure, she doesn’t deserve what I have planned, but at the same time, I didn’t deserve what her father did to me all those years ago. I have to remind myself of why I’m doing this. I’m doing this for me and for the future of my club, myfamily.
I will do anything to protect them.
Anything.
15
“Kaia,” my father calls as I reach the bottom of the stairs the following morning.
