I exhale slowly, pressing lingering kisses from her neck to her jaw, then her cheek.
When I pull back, I see it—mirrored in her eyes.
That same awareness. The dreadful reality, waiting just outside this room.
I cup her face gently, pressing one firm, grounding kiss to her lips. Then her nose.
“I love you, Charlotte,” I whisper.
Before she can say anything—before she thinks I’m asking for something she might not be ready to give—I add lightly, “Lock up after me?”
It’s a coward’s exit.
But I don’t want to put weight on her words. Don’t want her to feel like she owes me something she’s still figuring out.
Her soft heart deserves better than that.
So I step back.
And leave before I can change my mind.
FORTY-EIGHT
Ruin
I make a quick stop at the common bathroom to freshen up, but the warmth of Charlotte’s body still clings to me—soaked into my skin, my bones, everywhere.
A part of me wants to turn right back. Crawl into bed with her and stay there for another hour… or forever.
But club business calls. It always does.
If I’m being honest, there’s a darker part of me that’s ready for it. Eager, even.
Because a few dozen yards from here, the men responsible for all of this are rotting in the dark. We made sure of that—no light, no comfort. Just a basement of one of the empty houses in our compound.
Exactly what they deserve.
I catch Ryder, Hound, and Healer’s attention as I limp into the main room. Their expressions shift instantly, eyes scanning me head to toe.
That’s when it hits me.
I left my cut behind in Charlotte’s bed.
“Fuck,” I mutter, waving over a prospect. “You—go to Charlotte’s room and grab my cut.”
He nods and turns immediately.
“Stay at her door,” I add sharply. “Not a single foot inside. Got me?”
“Yes, Prez.”
I turn back to my officers—only to find Hound smirking like an asshole, while Healer is doing a piss-poor job of hiding his own amusement.
Bastards.
Ryder, though, just watches me with a knowing look. A quiet, almost approving smile tugging at his mouth.
“Got the girl, huh?” he says.
