“I kind of figured that was the deal,” I state before I reach into my purse and toss him the keys.
Walking past him, I reach for the door handle when Viking calls out my name. As much as I want to just open the door and walk out, I decide to look back over my shoulder at him.
My gaze lifts to meet his, and I give him a small smile. “My life isn’t much to write home about anyway, Viking. If this would help my brother and my family, then I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Nobody needs to get hurt. Nobody needs to suffer.”
“You’re willing to throw your life away—your relationship with your family—when we can protect you, and it wouldn’t ever have to be a thing?”
“Can you, though? When do they stop?”
He snorts and moves toward me, then past me. I follow him, wondering what else he’s going to say. He doesn’t say anything as I close my door. He reaches past me, his scent hitting my nose—sandalwood and bourbon.
God.
That’s sexy as hell.
He’s sexy as hell.
Stupidly, I close my eyes and inhale. I allow myself to have this moment, him being this close, him being so goddamn sexy. Because I don’t know if this will ever happen again. I’m going to soak it up and soak it in.
When his scent shifts past me, I open my eyes and turn to face him. He watches me for a moment, then smirks.
“They’re not going to stop, not unless they get a better deal. Trust Bullet to take care of the club, babe.”
I dip my chin in a single nod. That’s that, I guess, at least for now. And honestly, I’m tired of talking about it. I’m less of achatgirl and more of adogirl anyway.
Plus, there’s no way I’m going to just sit around and let people I love suffer in any way when there’s a chance I can stop it all. Then I’m the only one who possibly suffers… or maybe not. Maybe it’s a love match.
Who knows?
CHAPTER SEVEN
LAINEY
“I havea feeling you’re going to need a big glass of wine tonight,” Dakota calls out.
“You have no idea,” I mutter.
She hands me a glass of pinot noir. I don’t drink often, and maybe it’s because I’m around sweets all day long that I don’t want a sweet white wine when I do, but I’m not into anything dry either, so I feel like a pinot noir is a perfect combination.
My mind is a rambling, jumbled mess. Even my thoughts are a continuous loop with no pauses, no periods, no commas, just thoughts that play on and on and on.
I lift the glass to my lips, close my eyes, and take a long drink. Holding the wine in my mouth, I don’t swallow immediately. When I do, I open my eyes, mainly because I can feel everyone’s focus on me.
They are watching me, attentive and waiting.
“I’m being followed… well, hunted, really,” I begin.
Cidney gasps, but it’s Millie who moans. There is a long moment of silence. And I feel like there are a million sets of eyeson me and only me. They’re obviously waiting for more details about my situation. No doubt they don’t know what’s going on, which surprises me. I guess the guys do keep their lips tight, even with their wives.
“I don’t know everything,” I whisper. “What I do know is that the leader of some other type of group is trying to combine strengths with the Vicious Reapers, and they think kidnapping me and forcing marriage is the way to go.”
Cidney stands to her feet, her muscles tight, her eyes alight with what I can only describe as fury. She presses her lips together in a thin line before she crosses her arms over her chest. I suck in my breath, holding it while she gathers her thoughts.
“I know who you’re talking about, and no,” she hisses. “Absolutely not. Those men are monsters.”
“Honey,” Briana whispers.
“No,” she snaps. “No. You are not helping anyone or saving anyone by becoming a sacrificial lamb.”