Page 19 of Jett
I try to pull away, but he tugs me closer, engulfing me in his huge arms. I laugh and press my face against the clean cotton covering his chest. “Surprisingly, I know what that feels like.”
“I’m so fucking sorry you got hurt. I tried to protect you, but I ended up breaking your arm and getting you all banged up instead.”
I glance up at him. “You saved my life, Grim. More than once. I’m just sorry you got hurt in the process.”
“I’d go to ground for you, babe. I’m surprised you don’t know that by now.”
I close my eyes and swallow hard. When I glance up, the pain in his gaze is so intense it brings tears to mine. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been shot at, had a gun held to my head, and been half blown up. Or perhaps it’s because I finally unburdened my soul by telling Grim about Joshua, or that Jett’s wife is sitting across the room in his lap, and I can feel both sets of eyes boring into mine. In fact, I can feel everyone in the room staring at the two of us.
“We’re makin’ a scene.” Grim’s soft chuckle is warm and comforting. I don’t know what I would have done without him by my side when everything went to hell.
“I don’t care if you don’t?”
“Nah, I don’t give a fucking shit if they stare.” He presses me tighter to him and leans down, his face buried in the curve of my neck, and I lose it completely. I sob like a little kid and Grim holds me. He’s careful with my injuries, but he squeezes me just hard enough to make me feel safe.
I wish to God I could love him the way he loves me. He’s a biker, yes, but he’s a good man at heart, and he deserves to be loved. He deserves to have someone take care of him for once. I wish it could be me, but my heart already belongs to two men, and there just isn’t room for one more.
JETT
ICALLED THE BROTHERSto church five minutes ago and I sit at the head of our table and wait for them to file in. One by one, my boys arrive. Some are already here waiting alongside me, but others are taking time to kiss their old ladies like they’re going off to war. I suppose we are. Those Russian bastards need eradicating. And we’re gonna annihilate every single motherfucking one.
“Kick, get your arse in here!” I glare at him through the open door as Indie hugs him tight and side-eyes me over his fucking shoulder. Jesus. No wonder he couldn’t put a bullet in her head when they first met—it’s like they’re the same goddamn person. “Now!”
My Sargent-at-Arms pulls away from his old lady and hurries into church, taking the seat to my left. “Sorry, Prez.”
Tank leans across the table and smacks him in the head. “Arsehole.”
“Ow! Fuck you, cuntsicle. What the hell was that for?”
“For making the rest of us wait while you felt up your woman.”
“Jealous?”
Tank just glares at him.
“Alright, boys. We have a problem, and that problem has been going after our women, and they came after my clubhouse with a fucking bomb. So, I want leads on the Russians. I wanna know where their new warehouse is, what kind of guns they’re pushin’, and I want Ryzhanov dead. Someone find me some fucking leads! Until then, your old ladies, your families, your fuckin’ dicks wait until I have that Russian cunt’s head in my hands. Are we clear?”
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