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“If you didn’t have to leave right now, I’d kick your ass for saying that.”

He laughs, giving her another hug before he walks to the door and turns to me.

“Lincoln.”

I nod. “Theo.”

“Hope I don’t see you again,” he states, flashing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but I ignore it. Fighting with Theo will only make it harder to work things out with Tate.

She walks him to the door, watches him get in his car and drive away before shutting the door and locking up for the night. She turns and walks past me like I’m not even here, sitting down on the couch again. As she opens her book, I study her, wondering how I can break through her icy exterior.

“Tate?” I call to her and she glances up, an expectant expression on her face. All I can do is stare at her with my mouth hanging open for a moment before I get control of myself. “Can we talk?”

“About?” She glances back down at her book and turns the page as I run my hand through my hair. Who is this woman?

“Us. I want to talk about us.”

She meets my eyes again and the rage shining back at me almost makes me stumble back. Theo was right – she’s terrifying right now.

“There is no us.” She stands up and tosses her book down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed. Lock the back door, please.”

“Tate!” I yell at her retreating back, but she doesn’t even acknowledge me as she disappears into the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. Collapsing in the dining room chair, I bury my head in my hands and try to force myself to think. How the hell am I going to fix this?

Sighing, I stand up and go into the kitchen, locking the back door before I work my way around the house, checking each and every window to make sure it’s locked up tight before I pull the curtains closed. There’s no need to make this any easier for her father. Once I’m convinced that everything is secure, I drag my tired body over to the couch and rub my thigh.

Jesus. Getting shot, no matter how minimal, really takes it out of you. I’ve spent the last four days feeling like an old man as I hobbled around the clubhouse and this is just a flesh wound. Of course, none of the guys were willing to help me either since they are all firmly on “team Tate”, as Smith put it. I’d gladly take another bullet to the thigh just to get her to talk to me, though. My phone rings and I dig it out of my pocket.

“Hey, Rodriguez, what’s up?”

He sighs. “Just wanted to let you know that I took care of everything for you.”

After Tate shot me and the police carted me off to the hospital in handcuffs, I called Rodriguez and explained everything to him. He pulled some strings and was able to make it all go away. It should be easy since Tate probably won’t pursue pressing charges now that she knows the truth. Or maybe she will. What the hell do I know?

“Thanks for that, man. I owe you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna call that favor in now. I want in on this case.”

I glance down the hallway to Tate’s closed bedroom door. “Why?”

“I handled her mother’s car accident and I need to know what y’all do.”

I nod, sighing. “All right. I’m sure Blaze will appreciate the help. Just give him a call tomorrow but tread lightly. This whole thing is complicated and personal for a lot of people.”

“How’s Tate?” he asks and I drop my head to the back of the couch.

“Fucking furious.”

He laughs. “Yeah, she didn’t really seem like the shrinking violet type when I met her.”

“You have no idea, dude,” I tell him, barking out a laugh as I try to imagine Tate ever being shy or timid.

“All right, I’ll give Blaze a call tomorrow and get up to speed.”

I nod. “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

After we hang up, I pull up the camera feed on my phone and click on the master bedroom. Tate’s curled up under the blankets in the middle of her bed and as far as I can tell, she’s out cold. Unable to stay away from her any longer, I kick off my boots and creep down the hallway to her room. I hold my breath as the door slowly opens, revealing her serene face bathed in moonlight. Yep, she’s passed out. Lord knows, if she were still awake, I’d be missing half my face by now.

Letting out a breath, I sneak into the room and pull the chair in the corner closer to the bed before sitting down and propping my chin in my hands. What the fuck am I going to do here? It already feels helpless, the walls she’s built around her heart too high to climb but what other option do I have? I’m not capable of leaving her, of giving up on us. My stomach knots as I think about all the things I’ve done wrong since meeting her and I hate myself for the choices I made. Looking back now, I don’t even know what I was thinking. If I had just been honest with her from the moment I learned the truth, everything would be different between us now.