Page 17 of Jett

“I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe when he told me they’d targeted you last night. My first thought wasn’t about my wife, or any one of my club brothers—it was of you. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do here, darlin’. I got a bitch who’s gonna take me to the cleaners if I so much as mention the word divorce, and not only that, but she knows too fuckin’ much. One wrong move and every brother in this club goes to prison for life.”

Her fingers twitch in mine. Raine’s lids crack open and those pretty blues that I get to see first thing every morning when she brings me a coffee and muffin are sleepy and bloodshot. “I missed you.”

My brows shoot skyward. She blinks several times, long and slow, and each one gets longer.

“I missed you too, darlin’.”

“Don’t let me go,” she mumbles before falling back to sleep.

I don’t know if she means don’t let go of her hand, her job, or the idea of having her in my bed and on the back of my bike, but I find myself making promises I know I can’t keep.

RAINE

“SHH, YOU’LL WAKE HER,” Indie whispers from beside my bed.

I blink, shifting on the mattress. Everything hurts, and my brain is foggy. I lift my arm and pain lances through it from fingertip to shoulder. I rub my eyes with the heel of my good hand.

Kick fills the doorway. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you, Raine. I was just seeing if I could borrow my old lady for a bit.”

“No, I’m not talking to you.” Indie glares at her boyfriend.

“Come on, babe. It was a joke.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny.”

Kick’s mouth tips up in a lopsided grin. “Not even a little bit?”

“No, but you know what is? That you’re not getting any for a whole month.”

“Goddamn it, Indie.” He kicks the door with his motorcycle boot.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” I ask.

Kick opens his mouth, but Indie holds up a hand to silence him and turns to me. “Everyone’s fine. Jett’s pissed about the huge hole in the clubhouse gate, but everyone’s alive and well.”

“Thank God.”