Page 22

22

Reagan

Anger ripples off Jesse, even if he’s trying to keep it together for my sake. This shouldn’t be his weight to carry around.

I came to Vegas. I forced myself into Jesse’s life. And now, Lincoln has followed me here. I’m making my problems his.

Jesse brushes my cheek with his thumb. “It’s not your fault.”

I swear this man reads my mind.

“It’s—”

“ Not your fault, Reagan.”

“Okay.” I force a smile, wishing I believed him.

Tomorrow, I need to make a decision, but tonight, I’ll let his words hang like truth. We’ll stand in each other’s arms in the middle of the makeshift bar dance floor, pretending everything isn’t going to inevitably change after what happened here .

My fingers brush over the buttery leather of Jesse’s cut, and I wonder if I should be scared at how quickly he flipped the switch tonight. One second, someone was grabbing me; the next, Jesse was across the room, pulling him off me.

He nearly broke the man’s arm and then forced him to apologize for it.

Maybe I should be scared this side exists inside him. It’s the same darkness I saw the night he came home covered in blood.

But in Jesse’s arms, I feel safe and protected. No one has ever stood up for me like that.

It was heart-stopping and intoxicating. It’s wrong in every way that makes sense and right in every way that doesn’t.

I stroke the edges of Jesse’s cut and look up into his blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

“You’re worried about me?” His movements pause.

“Well… yeah?”

Shouldn’t I be?

He just got in a fight in my name. And given the reputation his club seems to carry around town, I doubt security or the police would have looked the other way if it escalated.

An amused smirk ticks up in the corner of Jesse’s mouth. “You’re worried about me ?”

“What? Is no one allowed to worry about the big bad biker?” I shoot him a playful glare .

“Guess I’m just not used to it, sweetheart.” His fingers splay over my hair at the side of my head as we slowly sway.

While everyone around us gets louder and drunker, we exist in this bubble. Our own universe where there’s only each other.

“Your dad was in this”—my eyes dart around, assessing who’s around us as I choose my words carefully—“ life . Didn’t he worry about you following in his footsteps and the danger it all brings?”

My words are nearly a whisper so no one else can hear us.

“King was more of a throw you in the deep end and hope you figure out how to swim kind of father.” Jesse chuckles.

The statement is harsh, but his expression isn’t. Like it is what it is. And something about that strikes me as interesting since Jesse is the opposite with his own daughter.

“He was respected by his brothers,” Jesse explains. “And in the end, he went down for the club. There’s not one man among us who doesn’t have good things to say about him.”

“But…” I prod, sensing there’s more.

“You’re observant.” He smirks. “ But … Ghost is more family than King was if I’m being honest. Dad gave me life. He gave me the club. He gave me Ghost when Marcus’s family died and mine took him in. But he was never really a parent. He let Mom handle me until I was old enough to stick up for myself, and only then did he start paying attention.”

I hum, brushing my fingers down his cut. “Sounds like I’m not the only one with a complicated view on family.”

“You’re not.” He holds me tighter. “But I’m not complaining. King gave Mom and me everything we needed to survive. He provided for his family.”

“There’s a big difference between surviving and thriving.”

One I know all too well.

Jesse’s hand flattens against my lower back. “And what do you need to thrive, Reagan Brady?”

“Things that aren’t as easy to come by,” I answer honestly. “You can give someone everything in the world, and it means nothing if you’re not present. If you don’t really care. If you aren’t listening. Material things are only worth the money you throw at them. Real investment costs more.”

He stares down at where my hand lands over his heart.

“Anyway, this isn’t about me.” I force a smile. “This is about you. And you’ve got Bea now. You’re great with her. A wonderful father.”

“I hope so.” He smiles so big that it’s breathtaking. “I was barely keeping myself together when she came around, and I wasn’t exactly prepared to be a dad. But I did the best I could. And when I couldn’t figure it out, Margaret was there to guide me.”

“I bet she was.”

Jesse grins, sweeping a rogue hair from my cheek. “It took a lot of learning on my end, but I’d do anything for that little girl. She’s shown me family in a way my parents never did.”

“Do you want more kids then?” The second the question is out, I wish I could shove it back in my mouth.

At the same time, now that I’ve asked, I need to know.

It’s not like we’ve been careful about what we’ve been doing.

Jesse’s gaze drops to my mouth as I wet my lips. His thumb trails the bare skin of my shoulder, pausing long enough that I think he might not answer. When his stare once more meets mine, it’s filled with caution.

“Honestly, I was content with it just being me and Bea.” He rests his hands on my hips. “I figured I was good.”

“Past tense?”

“I—” Jesse’s mouth opens like he’s about to say more, but Ghost stops beside us, cutting him off.

“Got a hit on Lincoln’s car. Steel wants everyone back at the club.”

His statement is a bucket of ice water. The air chills as Jesse lets me go, putting distance between us. A cold reminder that Jesse already has enough curveballs in his life, and for Bea’s sake, he’s not willing to risk any more of them.

What we’re doing is fun for now, but he can’t offer me more. He can’t offer himself.

And knowing that the club is already making Lincoln their problem is proof I’ve stayed too long.

The club clears out of the bar, and we load into the vans. But driving back, there’s a bigger gap between me and Jesse on the long bench seat than there was when we were driving downtown. He doesn’t put his arm around the back of my seat. His hands stay clasped in his lap. From the corner of my eye, I catch him occasionally glancing at me, and even if his knees hang wide so one of his touches mine, that’s all the contact he allows himself.

Like our conversation on the dance floor altered something we can’t get back.

His shoulders are tense until we near the compound, and only then does he relax back against his seat, leaning close enough that our arms brush.

Jesse looks down at me, and I wish I was strong enough not to melt when our gazes connect. I wish he would say something to make me stop falling for him. I wish I didn’t care about him and his daughter as much as I do.

Neither of us says anything. We just look at each other as we drive to the compound.

When we reach it, the van slows, so I assume we’re waiting for the gates to open. But after a long pause, there’s commotion outside that catches my attention.

Voices get louder, and panic starts streaming like static running in a current through the air.

Members start piling out of the van in front of us, and I get a sinking feeling about what Lincoln might have done. He found me at the bar. What if he finds me at the compound too?

“What’s going on?” Legacy leans forward to ask the prospect driving, but he’s already climbing out.

Through the windshield, I spot Havoc climbing out of the van ahead just as Chaos slides our door open .

Someone yells, and Jesse unbuckles so fast, he’s hopping out of the van while I’m still frozen.

There’s movement all around.

It’s like a tornado touching, and we’re in the center. All it will take is one shift in the breeze to send everything toppling.

I slide out of the van and meet Steel’s gaze first. He’s trying to rush Tempe into the van behind us. And when I turn to the gate, I realize why.

A woman is bundled on the ground just outside the gate to the compound. She’s naked and contorted, and the only reason I know she’s not dead yet is because of her piercing scream ripping from her lungs.

Jesse stands over her, frozen. And even in the moonlight, I can see his pale cheeks. The shock on his face. Taking another step forward, I pause when I spot the barbed wire wrapping her skin. It twines around her entire body, streaking her skin with blood.

So much blood.

And mine goes cold as Jesse whispers a name that makes all other sounds quiet.

“Sera?”