“Because we can and will protect our own. You’re mine, Graycie-girl,” I tell her, my voice fierce. “That makes you part of this club. That makes you family. We will always protect our family with everything in us.”
Ryker is nodding while the threat of violence and retribution dance in his eyes.
Before she can refuse my words, before she can talk herself out of it, I lock eyes with her and implore her, “Do you trust me?”
Her bottom lip wobbles as a few more tears spill down over her cheeks, the tracks left are a reminder and a call for the spilling of blood.
“Yes,” the word is broken, but it’s strong.
I press my forehead against hers and let out a shaky breath. “That’s all that matters. Everything else we’ll figure out. Let me protect you,” there’s a plea in my voice I know she can hear.
“You don’t think I’m weak?”
Her words hit me right in the chest and I rear back like she’s slapped me. I blink at her a few times before shaking my head and glancing at Ryker to see confusion written all over his face.
“Never,” I snarl the words. “The very last thing you are is weak, Graycie. You got out. You escaped a hell most people can’teven fathom.” My fingers skim along a long scar and I ache to kiss each one of them to remind her just how strong she is.
Later.
I’ll map her scars later.
Right now, we need more information.
I share a look with my Prez over my woman’s head, and he gives a nod before pulling out his phone. “I’m getting Whiskey in here; he needs to be filled in and then let loose to find out everything we can about the dead man walking.”
Graycie blinks and then looks between the two of us. But there’s no fear in her eyes, even after my Prez all but admitted that we’ll be killing the bastard who dared to hurt my angel.
When Whiskey strolls through the door, he takes one look at the scene, and his entire demeanor shifts into serious mode. We tell him what we know so far and then Graycie fills us all in on the details she glossed over.
The man is a defense attorney who thinks his connection to bad people with deep pockets is enough to keep him safe. It’s not.
By the time we’re done in Ryker’s office, my woman’s head is lolling against my shoulder, and she can barely keep her eyes open. I stand, done with this whole thing and needing to feel my woman in my arms without the audience.
“We have plenty to get started on,” Ryker drawls with an easy, knowing smile on his face.
Without saying a damn thing, I stride out of the room. Graycie, my sweet woman, calls out over my shoulder as she clings to me, “Thank you.”
I swear I hear both men chuckle, but I don’t bother slowing down until the door to my room in the clubhouse swings shut behind us. Unable to put her down right away and needing her in my arms, I sit on the edge of my bed and look down at her tearstained face.
“You came to me,” I rasp the words and her eyebrows pull together. “You got the card and knew you needed protection and you came to me.”
Her small hands cup my jaw while her delicate fingers move along the stubble there. “Where else would I go?”
Something breaks inside of me and I’m taking her mouth in a kiss which is brutal in its intensity but carries all the sweetness and softness my woman makes me feel. I should pull back, I should make sure she’s okay, but I can’t seem to put any distance between us.
Not now.
Not ever.
CHAPTER 13
GRAYCIE
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper the words with far too much honesty.
Turner’s gray eyes take me in and when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks, his eyes flash with a rage that is pure. But I have no doubt about being the one who can wield his rage. He looks at me like he’s my sword. It should scare me, but it doesn’t.
I shift on his lap, straddling his hips, unable to help myself and wanting to be able to look at him. Feeling like a raw, open wound isn’t something I’m used to anymore.