If the afternoon had taught me anything, it was that things had finally shifted again. I was on a constant loop of education that reminded me that life in the club was always evolving, and often without warning. Changes like this, the ones that brought me close to Drew, where he and I spent time together and made decisions about the future together… those I welcomed with a whole heart.
Drew was offering me an opportunity here. I was going to be an equal, a partner, a piece of the puzzle that didn’t need protecting or rescuing. I was a part of the machine, or I would be once I’d figured out how to kick ass without squealing like a damn girl.
Drew was a good teacher. He was also a hardass with a violent streak that bordered on sadism. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, but he wasn’t sugarcoating anything, either. He and I both understood that his enemies wouldn’t be deterred by my femininity. They would just use it against me. Men were stronger, faster, more brutal, and this was a hard fact he was injecting into this lesson with astounding accuracy.
I was currently pinned against Drew. My arms locked at my sides, my back against his chest, his limbs like an impenetrable rope around me. In long streams, his hot breathswashed over my damp skin as I flailed and struggled against his hold. I tried not to think of this as being Drew. I tried to block out that part of me that would recognize him anywhere, and I dug for the fear that would be there in any other situation where I was locked down like this. But when I pushed back against him to stomp on his instep again, I felt the stirrings of his arousal behind me, and I let out a small squeak of surprise.
“Oh…”
“No distractions,” he breathed in my ear, his smirk evident. “You ‘Oh’,you die. Big dick in your ass or not.”
“Big?” I mused, finally getting my heel to slam down hard enough on his instep to at least loosen his hold on me. As he taught me, my body went limp, and I slid from his arms and ran to the other side of the room with one tit now hanging from my bra. The urge to slip it back into the cup was making my hand twitch, but I tried my best to ignore it and faced him, waiting for the lunge.
Drew’s lips were pressed together, the veins in his neck popping as he closed his eyes and swallowed down the groan from my attack, his head rolling from side to side to shake off the sting. When he opened his eyes again, they fell straight to my chest, narrowing in on the one thing I knew he couldn’t resist. Not usually, anyway.
He swallowed hard again, the lump in his throat riding down and up slowly.
“You’re right,” he croaked. “Big was an understatement. Obviously, I meant huge.” His jaw ticked several times before he finally looked me in the eye again. “I hope to God you’re not planning on showing your attacker your tit every time you make a getaway. I’m gonna have an issue with that. Huge issues. Bigger than my dick, huge.”
I couldn’t hide my smirk. “I thought you were being modest, but I’m taking a page from your book. This…” I nudged my breast with my arm and grinned. “Is a distraction.”
“It’s a goddamn reason for your attacker to chase after you, that’s what it is.” His eyes rose to mine, torn between annoyance and desire. “Plus, you’d be landing me in more trouble because, obviously, I’d have to track those fuckers down and tear their throats out for looking at what’s mine. I don’t share, Ayda. You know this.”
I ran my finger along the inside of the cup and popped it over my exposed breast without taking my eyes from him. I was looking for a twitch of a muscle, the leading foot to shift and indicate his next move, but he was stock still, his eyes on my hand.
“Funny you should say that,” I said conversationally. “I’m finding I have the same inclination. I never considered myself a jealous person before.”
Drew barely shifted his foot, but I skittered back three paces, my hands rising defensively.
He merely raised a brow and stared me down. I knew he was deciding his next move. There were some things he couldn’t hide from me, but when he was dark and brooding like this, even I couldn’t know what was coming next. He probably didn’t even know himself.
“You shouldn’t make light of something that makes me so angry, like the thought of another guy touching or chasing you down.” His face took on that look—the one he constantly wore for weeks after they found me in the warehouse with a dead body by my side. The one that I knew imagined what could have happened if I hadn’t managed to save myself. “We need to stay focused on this shit, Ayda. Even when we wantto tear into each other and screw against every wall, mat, and bench in this building. I can’t…” His voice trailed off, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a breath and then released it in a rush. “No one else can get hurt around here.”
I could feel my brow furrowing. I hadn’t been making light of the situation, and I sure as hell hadn’t been joking. I knew there was no way he could know what I felt when one of the whores sauntered over to talk to him. I knew he couldn’t conceivably understand that basic urge that rose inside of me to scratch their eyes out. I also knew that no matter how much I tried, I would never be able to put into words the way it had made me feel when he’d let his father in instead of me after Harry had died. It wasn’t just women that I found myself envious of.
“You think I’m joking?” I finally asked, still aware of his body. “You don’t think I get so mad I can barely see straight when I feel that way? Do you think you’re the only one who could feel that way?”
Stepping forward, I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t take any of this as a joke. Not one bit. I wasn’t ignorant to what I was agreeing to. I was taking my own life in my hands and would every time I went out with him. We’d always had targets on our backs from day one. I’d become a source of weakness for Drew. I was one of his weakest spots. Cortez had exposed that in the warehouse that night. He’d used me as a tool to get into Drew’s head. I refused to be that again, but the hits just kept coming.
I trusted this man with my vulnerabilities, but that sure as hell didn’t mean I trusted those who demanded his attention. I was always watching. I was always paying attention.
I took another step toward him. “You’re mine.”
“Yeah, damn fucking right I am,” he hit back, nodding once, his voice raised. “No denials coming from this corner about that. I’m yours, and you’re mine. But there is no equality in this world, Ayda. This isn’t how it is out there beyond this life. I’m not talking about being jealous over someone wanting you. Shit, everyone does want you. Everyone sees you. Ex-boyfriends. My own brother Kenny. Even Harry would have tapped that if I’d given him the green light. This isn’t jealousy born from me wanting to keep my toy to myself. This is rage at the thought of anyone—anyone—touching or wanting to touch you, and you getting yourself hurt or killed for it.”
I could feel the slight trembling in my hands as they balled at my sides. I was getting emotional again. I didn’t know if this was a test or not, I had no idea if Drew was pressing these buttons knowing he would get this reaction from me. I tried to blink it all back and stopped myself from stepping forward again, not allowing myself to get goaded into a physical confrontation which he would undoubtedly win.
“My jealousy is nothing to do with how many people want you. You think I like being the weakest link in your chain? Your vulnerability that people find so convenient? Do you honestly think I’m ignorant to the fact that I am one of the few ways a person can truly hurt you?” My voice started to rise, the tension between us had been growing with the combat all afternoon, and now it appeared I was a well unwilling to dry up and shut the fuck up. “I fucking hate it, Drew. It’s the reason I wanted to carry a gun in the first place, but I refuse to be that for you anymore. I’m not the weak link. Let someone come after me. The way I feel right now, I will rip them apart with my bare hands because I won’t watch you go through thatagain.”
Drew ran a hand over his forehead, closing his eyes and dipping his chin to his chest for a moment before he dragged his palm down his face. Eventually, both his arms fell listlessly down by his sides.
“What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his chest bouncing as his breathing became harder. “What arewedoing? How is this our life?” He looked up slowly through hooded eyes, his body still. “We’re always waiting for the worst to happen. We’re always expecting all this to end, or someone to get in the way, someone to die and leave us. I can’t go on like this, Ayda. I’m tired, and everything I want to say comes out back to front and upside down. I can’t string a thought together without going into a blind panic that I’m going to lose someone else.” His jaw twitched again, a look of sadness and regret making the edges of his eyes turn down. “You’ve never been my weak link. I’d be dead already if it weren’t for you. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. It’s so easy for me to make everything about me when grief lingers around every thought I have and every word that falls from my mouth. Sometimes I forget that you have a voice and a mind of your own because I’m so determined to get you on a path that guarantees no one can ever, ever take you away from me.”
I closed the distance between us, unable to bear that look in his eyes. My hands found their way to the back of his neck, my nails scraping against his scalp.
“The one thing you can’t retaliate against is death, and it comes for us all eventually, Drew. You just have to trust that we’re going to fight to live. You’re right, you know, I do have my own mind and my own voice. I don’t always use them as much as I should. I need you to know that I will always fightto come back to you though. I need you to trust that I will do everything in my power to live no matter the situation.”
He raised his hands to take hold of my wrists, slowly peeling them away from his neck to bring them down to his chest. Drew’s fingers were curled tight.