Smoke raises an eyebrow. "Afraid of being happy?"
"Afraid of what happens when it goes away." I wrap my hands around my coffee cup like it's the only thing keeping me grounded. "Everyone leaves eventually."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then he sets down his cup and leans forward, and for the first time, I see something human behind his eyes.
"Ace isn't everyone."
"How do you sound so confident?"
"Because I've watched him bleed for people who didn't deserve it. I've watched him give until he had nothing left. He doesn't know how to stop caring once he starts." Smoke holds my gaze. "If you’re someone special to him, he’ll treat you like you’re the very air he needs to breathe to keep living."
As poetic as that sounds, it’s also intense. The best and worst part, Smoke is being genuine. If he knows Ace well, then I can only imagine his words aren’t just reassurance. They’re a warning.
Telling myself to stop getting so worked up, I distract myself with the scalding hot coffee before swallowing thickly. "I don't want to put Leliah in any danger. If we get mixed up in whatever your club is doing—"
"Our president isn't a fan of letting outsiders in, so I don't think you have to worry about that. There's a reason those Outlaw Sinners haven't stepped in our territory. If any of them test his patience..." His eyes drift toward Leliah before settling back on me. "You don't have to worry about any trouble coming here. Stick in our section of town, and you'll be fine. Otherwise,keep Ace at your side, and I'm willing to bet he'd put his life on the line to keep you two out of harm's way."
That's the kind of devotion I've never known.
Johnny ran at the first sign of danger, happily leaving the weight of his decisions behind for me to deal with.
Ace doesn’t seem like the cowardly type.
While I haven't made up my mind on what I want to do, I soak in his words of reassurance before the sound of distant rumbling echoes outside.
There it is, the sound that used to make my blood run cold.
Setting my cup down, I hate the way I tense up at the sound of a motorcycle. If I'm going to be spending time with a bunch of these guys, I need to get used to the low rumbles. Rather than being a threat, the sound is more of a protection. The thing is, it's not the rumblings of just one motorcycle. It sounds like a couple of them.
"About time." Smoke's on his feet, trudging to the kitchen to ditch his cup.
When the front door opens, Ace isn't the only one who's strolling in. He's got two other younger males behind him. They've got boxes in their hands, already drifting into the home like they know every inch of it.
Strangers. More strangers. More leather, more patches, more reminders of exactly what I'm getting into.
Leliah stops coloring to look up at all the passing traffic. She looks back at me for some kind of explanation, but I don't have one to give. Moving to sit up, her attention grows more to them than her art.
Ace scoops her up so she doesn't get run over, and grabs her stuff so no crayons get broken. With her in his hold, he then searches the room before settling on me.
Staring at him, the view before me claws at my chest. Not just because last night made things pretty complicated, but seeingmy daughter leaning into him feels more like a sign. Like this could be okay if I let myself give in.
She trusts him. My daughter, who hides behind my legs when strangers get too close, is calm in his arms.
What does that say about him? What does that say about me?
"Sorry for leaving you here," he says as he eliminates the space between us. "Needed to grab some stuff."
Not giving me much to go off, I watch him set her coloring book down before seeing it. His knuckles are freshly wrapped, and I can only imagine what is hidden beneath.
He hurt someone during our time apart. Did he get hurt anywhere that I can’t see?
I should be horrified. Instead, I feel something warm uncurl in my chest.
He notices, too, but smiles. Freeing his hand, he strokes my hair. "Don't look so worried for me, or I'll get too worked up, sweetheart."
His hand is gentle. Despite what those knuckles did, despite the violence hiding beneath the surface, he touches me like I'm as fragile as glass.
Before I can ask what happened, one of the new faces pauses and lifts up a different box. "What am I doing with the kid's stuff?"
