Page 47 of The Vows We Keep

“Jesus. Fine. The photos are on my phone. A copy on my laptop.” He tips his chin in the direction of a small desk in the corner.

“Now, how hard was that? Get them,” Niro instructs, and I know he’s talking to me. Knife still in hand, I hurry and pick up both items, but when I return, he takes them from me and tips his chin at Henley. “Who do you want to kill you?”

“No. Wait. You’ve got what you wanted. I’ll drop it. I’ll leave Jasper Haven alone. I know he clears the docks for you, for your weapons deliveries. I won’t mention a thing. I’m sorry.” The smell of urine fills the air.

“I’ll do it,” I say. “It will help the club take me seriously and show there’s no reason to not trust me.” It’s the perfect solution. I’ll have dirt on them. They’ll have dirt on me. Sometimes, dirt is all you can build a pact on.

Niro ignores Henley’s whimpering. Instead, he winks at me. “Do it. But make it look like he killed himself.”

And I do as he says without the slightest remorse.

14

NIRO

We run from the house via the woods. I doubt anyone saw or heard anything. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.

It’s not easy to run with an erection pressed up against the zipper of my jeans, but I’ll be the first to admit, watching Catalina kill Henley did something to me. And the doctor was right. I do show an absolute lack of remorse that leaves me indifferent to the pain of people like Henley.

I don’t care whether it’s wrong to be turned on though, because right now, all I want is Catalina underneath me. My only question is how quickly I can get this woman naked.

“Jesus, if I’d known we’d be jogging three miles, I might have done more training beforehand,” Catalina says.

I grin as she breathes faster. I feel ... free. Happy.

I wonder if she likes sexual asphyxiation.

Thoughts of my hands around her throat do little to ease the pain my cock’s in.

The bikes are in sight. When we get there, I lift Cat so she can drop her legs on either side of her saddle. She laughs as she does so. “Follow me,” I say, as she tugs my leather jacket on.

As much as I want to fuck her right away, I need her in my home. In my bed. And for safety’s sake, we’ve got to get our asses out of this area as quickly as we can instead of checking into a motel for two hours so I can rail her the way I want to. Especially when one of them looks the way I do.

After I tuck the laptop in my saddlebags, we ride side by side, like equals.

Fuck cars and their owners caged inside.

It’s a good thing I’m an experienced rider, because I spend way too much time glancing sideways at this woman who is so like me, I can barely believe my good fortune.

Watching her manhandle my knife? Hot.

Hearing her threaten Henley? Hot.

Knowing she’s willing to kill? Even hotter.

I speed up; she follows me. From all the court-ordered therapist shit my mother put me through, I have tools, circuit breakers that are meant to stop me when I get into reckless spirals, especially when it comes to myreckless disregard for the safety of self and others. But embracing this freedom, racing through the twists and turns of this road with Catalina by my side, I feel so fucking invincible that I don’t want it to stop.

When we pull up outside my house, she’s off her bike before I am and throws herself into my arms just as my feet touch the ground. Our helmets crash. I can’t get to her lips. But I pick her up anyway. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I can hear her laugh as I march up the steps.

Getting the key into the lock is tricky, and I practically stumble over the threshold.

“I should fucking kill you,” Bates says. His voice is raw. He’s sitting in the hallway, still looking gray. “What the fuck was that shit?”

I lower Catalina to the ground, all thoughts of fucking her up against the door fleeing from my mind. There’s a strange twinge in my chest and I wonder if it isn’t the first real feeling of guilt I’ve ever had.

Removing my helmet, I take a breath. “It’s done. Henley’s dead.”

“You took Catalina with you?” he asks.