Page 26 of My Reckless Biker

"Don't." The word comes out harder than I intended. "Don't do that. This is on Dutch and it's on Crane and it's on me for making the arrangement public. But it's not on you. You didn't put Ray in that hospital. Dutch did."

"Dutch did it because my father sent him. And my father sent him because of the photos. Because I'm here with you."

"Your father would've sent someone eventually regardless. Marrow's been pushing at Bloomfield for months. This was coming. Ray being the target is my fault for making the photos spread the way I did, but you being here didn't cause this. Crane being who he is caused this."

She's quiet for a moment and I can see her trying to believe that, trying to let herself off the hook she's put herself on.

"We're moving tonight," I say. "Hitting the warehouse where Dutch is. He's not walking away from it."

"Good."

The word is flat and certain and immediate, no hesitation, and I realize she means it. She's not asking me not to. She's not trying to talk me down. She's accepting that this is necessary and she's okay with it.

More than okay. She wants it.

"You're comfortable with us killing him?" I ask.

"Yes. He put Ray in the hospital to send a message to me from my father. So yes, I'm comfortable with you killing him. If I could do it myself, I would."

The certainty in her voice tells me what I already suspected but am now completely sure of. She's not naive about what Vigil is. She's not performing moral objection to violence she actually understands is necessary. She grew up in Marrow. She knows how this world works. She knows what happens when you cross certain lines.

And she's accepting it because she's part of this now, whether she intended to be or not.

"You should stay inside tonight," I say. "Keep your head down. We don't know if Marrow's watching the clubhouse and I don't want you visible if they are."

"I'll stay inside."

"If something happens, if somehow they breach the perimeter while we're gone, you go to Cain's room. Third door on the left upstairs. He's got weapons stashed and a secondary exit through the window that drops to the garage roof. You get out that way and you run. Don't wait, don't try to fight, just run."

She's studying my face now and I can see her processing what I'm telling her, what it means that I'm making sure she knows the escape route.

"You're worried about me," she says.

"Yeah."

"Why? Yesterday you were still calling me a liability."

"Yesterday Ray wasn't in the hospital. Today he is, and that changes things."

"How?"

I step closer and she doesn't step back, just tilts her head up to keep eye contact, and I can see her breathing change, can see the awareness in her dark eyes that matches what I'm feeling.

"Because you being here made you visible and that got Ray hurt," I say. "And if something happens to you because I made you visible, that's on me too. So yeah, I'm worried about you. I'm making sure you know where to go if things go wrong. Because keeping you safe is part of the deal."

"That's the only reason?"

"No."

"What's the other reason?"

I'm close enough now to see the flecks of lighter brown in her dark eyes, close enough to smell whatever she's wearing under the heat and dust, close enough that if I moved six inches I could kiss her the way I kissed her last night.

And I'm aware of her body in ways that are getting harder to ignore. The soft curves visible even in dark jeans and a plain shirt, the way the fabric pulls across her full breasts, the width of her hips, the substantial reality of her that's been distracting me since she first walked through our gate. She's not small. She's real and present and I notice every time she moves, every time she's near me, and right now she's close enough that I could reach out and touch her.

"The other reason is I kissed you last night," I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intended. "And I meant it. And that means you're not just Victor Crane's daughter anymore. You're someone I want safe for reasons that have nothing to do with the arrangement."

Her breathing changes, gets shallower, and I watch her lips part slightly.