“You’ll still get that chance, babe. He’s going to be fine, and you’re going to look after him, because he’s yours, right?”
Fucking right. I nodded grimly, turning to glance out of the window, suddenly remembering the rest of the message.
“Oh. Rocket said to drive safe.”
V started laughing. “He hates my car. Can you believe that? He thinks a motorbike is safer than a damn car!”
I was beginning to think that safe was just an illusion, regardless of whether that related to vehicles, people, groups, life, or anything. I’d thought falling in love and getting married was safe, and I was wrong. He thought going on an errand for his club was safe, and he was wrong. Hell, going for a drink in a pub was also wrong.
“Glory, stop dwelling, babe. This is just a little blip. Club versus club crap, but they don’t know what they’re in for, they really don’t.”
They didn’t, and I had an idea that’d help make things go far easier, even though it just might not be that popular with the club.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Iwas awake againwhen Glory showed up, and she took one look at me and burst into tears, standing in the middle of the bikers that had amassed in the room again, her arms around her middle as she took in the state of my fucking face and body.
“Bit harsh, love. He’s still pretty,” Rocket said, gesturing at her to come closer. Yes. That was all I wanted. I lifted a heavy arm toward her and she sobbed, running to the bed, and throwing herself at me, which hurt, and jolted me and the bed, but if she wanted comfort from me, she’d always get it.
“Let’s give them a minute. We’ll be outside, brother. You’re not alone. Ever.”
I smiled at Micro, appreciating the fact that this club were rallying around me like this, that they were planning retribution for me, and that they felt like a huge fucking family. One I’d needed, one I knew Glory needed too.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head as she moved to press it against my neck, her sobbing breaths sendingheat across my skin, even though my body was sure as hell not up for anything heated right now.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be fine. It’s just a few scratches.”
“They… stabbed… you…” she sobbed out, and I squeezed my eyes closed, because who the fuck told her that? No wonder she was panicking.
“It was a scratch, Glory, nothing more. I’m fine. Just being a bit lazy for a few hours.”
She lifted her head, her cheeks reddened and wet with tears, her eyes filled with water.
“I almost lost you, you fucking idiot!”
Whoa. “I didn’t ask them to jump me,” I protested, but I couldn’t help feeling a little relieved by her reaction, because whether we were gelling sexually or not, she was clearly really attached to me, and that was a damn good start.
“I’m sorry. I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. I’m more pissed about my ride, because they tried to fucking trash it.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously at me. “More worried about a fucking motorbike?”
“It’s my favourite ride! Of course I’m more worried about that! I’ll need to replace… god knows what got damaged by those fuckers, and it’ll probably need a respray, and-”
“Shut up about the damn motorbike!” She yelled, slapping my chest, which roared with pain since I’d been punched or kicked there several times.
I gasped, pressing a hand against my chest and she reared back, her hands over her mouth.
“Oh god. I just hurt you!”
“You didn’t. I’m… fine.” Breathe slowly, it’ll ease. Jesus fuck.
“I’m no better than them. No better than… than him. I just abused you, the man I love!”
Breathing forgotten, my hand shot out, catching her wrist as she tried to back further away.
“Wait. Love. You said love. I’m the man you love.”
“Duh,” she grumbled, tugging at my grip, but for once I was not fucking letting go.