Page 42 of Devil’s Snare

“Matt Marshall, remember?”

“I forgot all about him.” Ethan snatched his coffee and walked into the living room, drinking it without creamer. “Fuck, G. You think we’re next?”

“No. Cin said he’s looking into it.”

Ethan arched a brow. “The biker’s name is Sin?”

Nobody got it right the first time, including me. “Short for Cinerator.”

“Like an incinerator oven? Come on.”

“It’s a road name, I guess. Biker names aren’t real names.”

“Do you know his real name?”

I didn’t want to answer because I never learned it, not that Cin kept it from me, even if that was how it appeared.

“No. He never told you.” My brother shook his head. “That guy is nothing but walking red flags.”

“I think I love him,” I replied, folding my hands in my lap as I sat, my tea growing cold in the mug on the coffee table.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m serious.”

“Two fucking weeks, G. You’ve only known this guy for two weeks.”

“How long did it take you to know you were in love with Tiffany?” It was a bit of a low blow, since they never could sort their shit out.

“That’s fucked.” His cup slammed onto my coffee table, and the contents sloshed over the side. Ethan didn’t notice. “I’m disappointed in you, Gwen. After your last relationship and how that motherfucker put you in the hospital—”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Cin snarled.

Nice. My pissed-off biker was back.

Ethan swung his head in Cin’s direction. “Yeah. Bet she didn’t tell you that yet, huh? Her last boyfriend put his hands on her, and she ended up in the hospital. If I’m a little protective, you understand why. Nobody is going to hurt her like that again.”

Cin cracked his neck. “Give me his name.”

Oh, no. “Cin,” I began.

His snarl ended in a growl that nearly shook the room. “No, Gwen. Don’t rationalize it. I want his fucking name.”

“Why?” Ethan challenged. “You gonna kill him?”

“No.” Cin smiled, and I never saw anything so scary. “I’ll just make sure he wishes he was.”

“I’m in.” Ethan stood and walked toward the door. “The fucker got outta prison yesterday morning. I want to make sure he never comes looking for my sister.”

“Done. I need to make a phone call first.” Cin dialed a number, and someone must have answered because he started giving orders. “Need you at my ol’ lady’s place. I’ll text the address... Yeah, Gwen... You’ve got ten fucking minutes, prospect.” He hung up and turned to me. “Sending protection. Don’t leave the apartment tonight.”

My hands went straight to my hips. His Neanderthal ways were starting to irritate me. Probably because I was a bit on edge. Becka and Marshall were murdered. My ex was out of prison early, and no one notified me. Would the CPO I had even matter if Max came after me?

“Baby, listen to me. You’re not safe until I take care of this guy. If I can’t be here, I’m sending someone I trust. Feel me?”

“I’m trying.”

“Hey, what’s his name?” He tried again and gentled his voice.