Page 43 of Devil’s Snare

“Max Roberts. I have a CPO. He’s not supposed to contact me.”

“That won’t stop someone like him, baby.”

I was afraid of that, but I didn’t think I had to worry about it since he wasn’t supposed to be released for another year.

“Hey.” Cin tilted my chin up until our eyes met. “Need you to breathe. You’re safe. Got a prospect who will watch your place all night. If you’re scared, wave at him from your bedroom window, and he’ll come up and stay in the living room while you sleep.”

“You’re not planning to come back tonight, are you?”

Cin shook his head. “No.”

“It’s going to get bloody, isn’t it?”

“He already earned his fate when he hit you.”

I didn’t feel sorry for Max. He deserved whatever punishment Ethan and Cin handed out. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you will. Wanna know why?” His head dipped lower.

“Because I’m a badass?”

“Because you’re my ol’ lady.”

Ol’ lady? “Is that a compliment?”

“In biker terms, you’re the equivalent of a wife. Respected. Cherished. Protected by the club.”

“Wow.”

“It’s a big deal. We’ll talk about it later. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

I heard a motorcycle pull onto the lot, and Cin dropped a kiss on my lips before peeking out the window.

“Prospect is here. I’m headin’ out.”

After another kiss, he left me, ordering me to lock up tight, which I did.

It was going to be a long night.

I DIDN’T HEAR FROM Cin or Ethan all night. After sending them several texts that went unanswered, I finally went to bed. When I woke, it was after eight, and the sun’s bright beams of light were pushing through the gaps in my blinds.

After a mug of hot peppermint tea and a shower, I sat down at my craft table to get a little work done. It took a few hours to pack the orders and film my next video for my YouTube Channel. Dreamweaver Crafts had a decent following, and I knew my customers were going to love the new designs I came up with.

By noon, I was bored—still no communication from the guys.

When my phone finally vibrated with an incoming text, I nearly dropped it in my excitement. It wasn’t Cin or Ethan.

Penny, from the women’s shelter, sent an invitation for coffee. I accepted.

Cin couldn’t get cranky because he said not to leave my apartment overnight. This was midday.

I grabbed my keys and purse and left the building, walking toward my truck when I spotted the young guy on his bike wearing a black leather vest. It had no patches. He shook his head at me. “Where are you going?”