I fought a chuckle, but my words were serious as I told Brody, “You did good today.”
He looked my way, seriousness taking over him too. “Wouldn’t have let that bastard get away with what he planned. This club’s mission is my mission.”
“I know,” I affirmed.
Meaning it.
He might have messed around nonstop, but when it came down to it, Brody knew what was important.
The same as the rest of my MC.
This mismatched family that fought for what was right.
It was me who’d gone askew. The one who’d fucked up. Fucked up so bad, letting myself get lost in her.
She was abso-fucking-lutely off-limits.
A job.
A woman under my protection who was basically being used as a pawn.
And I’d let that purpose spiral.
Splinter as she not so slowly seeped beneath my skin.
I mean, fuck, she might as well have been a drug injected directly into my veins.
Whittling her way through muscle and bone and getting to the marrow.
Casting a glow somewhere at the center of my being.
She was this riotous light that I was drawn to. As hot as the sparks that flitted from the flames.
Wildfire.
Kindling that had lit something deep.
Warming my long-dead spirit.
I needed to put out that fucking fire stat.
Extinguish it before it destroyed the oath that I had made.
But I was only getting struck by another lash of severity.
Awareness crawled across my flesh and piqued every cell in my body in keen, desperate attention.
My guts tangled in a fit of greed as I watched her come stumbling out from the cover of trees with my baby sister in tow.
What the ever-lovin’ fuck did they think they were doing?
And what the fuck was she wearing?
Brinley dressed up in one of those tempting short dresses. This one black with capped sleeves and a plunging neckline, flowy skirt to match.
Thighs that I’d had my hands all over earlier exposed, legs for a fucking week.
Waltzing in like a conquering queen on those black peep-toe sky-high heels that could make even a good man commit obscene things.
