Page 144 of Property of Fang
“Youdid,” I clarify. All I did was make things worse—as usual. “You need me here for the lawyer?”
He shakes his head. “Jinx and I got it covered. We’ll get everyone together later to share the outcome.” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, studying me a moment. “Is this woman worth the ongoing hassle?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is she a sunk cost, Fang?”
I blanch, and then promptly feel a wave of anxiety spike at the foreign feeling. “You asking if I want her put to ground?”
He nods.
“For taking my bike?” I splutter.
“For killing a woman—a woman associated with the Blood Eagles—and then lying to hide it. For withholding that she knew who Anna was. For drawing danger to your daughter. For all the fucking shit she’s done to make this place more of a headache than it already is.”
He’s right—she’s a massive liability, yet even my loyalty to the patch can’t stop me from voicing how I feel. “She’s a broken fucking woman, Chaos. Would you have put Vanessa to ground for all the shit that follows her around?”
I brace for it, for the anger at mentioning his woman. For the retaliation and punishment to put me in my place.
The fucker smirks.
“What?” I bark, itching to get this over with and on the road.
“You defend her,” he states.
“Damn right I do.” A fist forms at my side, and I squeeze it tight to redirect my anger. “I’vekilled people, Chaos.” Way more than she has. “I’ve lied and withheld information to manipulate things in my favor—hell—in theclub’sfavor. And I’ve brought trouble to our door on more than one occasion.” I lean in. “Wanna put me to ground too?”
“Nope,” he sasses, popping the ‘P’. “Just wanted you to voice out loud what you’re too afraid to admit to yourself.”
The fuck?“Which is?”
“You care about her.” He smirks, getting in my face to taunt, “Youlikelike her.”
“How old are you?” I say, backing up a step. “Nine? For fuck’s sake. Act your age.”
He chuckles, turning for his bedroom. “I gotta get my shit ready for this meeting,” he calls as he goes. “Go and get your woman, Fang, and fucking tell her why you’re doing it.”
Why I’m doing it?I mull the question a moment after he closes his door and then turn for my room to strap up and get my goddamn boots on. I do it because she has my fucking bike. It’s that simple, isn’t it?Then why not just report it stolen?Because that would get Marty involved, and the further away from him she can stay, the better.Because…?I hesitate, foot sliding into my second shoe.Because I want to keep her safe.Idolike like her. The fucker’s right, and I know he’s right. Where he’s wrong is that I was too scared to admit it to myself. I have thought about it—a lot. Every time my hand found her face, or I caught myself staring at her from across the room. Every time shesmiled softly at someone else or every time I was near enough to catch her rosy smell.
Ihavethought about it.
I was too scared to commit, though.
Not anymore. Fuck knows where the woman’s headed, but nothing good can come out of it regardless. She’s a felon, and a target for two notoriously violent motorcycle clubs.
She’s all alone without a shit show in hell of fighting off an ambush from either of themorMarty.
She’s fucking reckless. And I goddamn love her for it.
I dash downstairs and snag the truck keys from the hook in the entry. Molly crosses into the foyer from the kitchen, Jezabel hanging back in the doorway to presumably make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.
“Where are you going?” Her question holds curiosity, but there’s an element of fear to my daughter’s words I don’t like.
“I’m going to give Jenna a ride back here, okay? I won’t be long.”
Molly wanders closer, the blanket from her makeshift bed draped over her shoulders and dragging behind her like a cape. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.” But I need to get going if I’ll have a hope in hell of catching up.
