Page 103 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
“I’ll call an Uber or something,” she whines, but Crown just lets out a tired exhale.
“I’ll find a trustworthy guy to get this one home.” He gives his brother a sharp look. “I’m guessing you’re not able to deal with Gaz for the time being?”
Grainger gives a sharp shake of his head and Crown grunts, dragging Dena away with him.
“Gaz brought Dena here to intimidate me,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and looking back toward the party.
“He picked her because of her association to you, but really, he brought that girl here to prove to me that he could. And that I’d do fucking nothing about it.” Cade grits his teeth and closes his eyes for a moment. “If you got in touch with your shitty, little mafia friend, you think you could find more information out about Gaz?”
I give Grainger a look as he opens his umber eyes to stare at me. After a moment, I give a short, brief nod. Grey will know. But how do I contact Grey? How do I find him? If I don’t, then Gaz will continue to do whatever it is that he’s doing.
Then the club could … lose to the mafia?
The idea of it infuriates me.
I might not be willing to hurt Grey, but I sure as shit am not allowing the organization responsible for my sisters’ murders to decimate the club that these four men belong to.
Because if it goes down in flames, they’ll ride to their deaths on chrome stallions right along with it.
And I … I will follow.
The strength of the punch nearly takes me off my feet, but I manage to catch my attacker’s fist in my palm.
“Holy crap, that hurt,” I groan as Beast withdraws his hand, and I shake out my own. Pain ricochets through my joints, making me grit my teeth. He’s just that strong. “Should you really be punching your wife-to-be like that?”
“You need to learn this,” he starts, standing so close to me that he can probably smell me. I’m sweating like fucking crazy, my muscles sore and quivering from the twice daily sessions with Beast—or, if he’s not available, one of the other guys.
The thing is, if he isn’t watching Gaz, one of them has to, and that only happens when my brother is on the property. We’ve been at this for about four days now, but all I can say is that my muscles are sore as hell, I’m in constant pain, and I’m most definitely out of shape.
I really do need this, don’t I? If for no other reason than it helps distract me from the fact that Reba is still missing.
“We can’t always be around, but you will always be in danger,” Beast tells me, nodding his chin to indicate that we’re done for the day. I sigh dramatically, rubbing my sore hand against the front of my tank top. I’m a damn good shot, much to Crown’s chagrin. I can use a knife, too, although Grainger can still kick my ass. Sin hasn’t had much chance to teach me anything.
“Hey.”
The sound of his melodic voice draws my attention around. Sin is waiting nearby, his back against the trunk of a tree, one boot propped up against the trunk. He’s watching me, the muscles in his arm rippling beneath the American flag tattooed there as he lifts a cigarette to his lips.
For four days, I’ve been training with the men. Helping Nellie with stupid wedding stuff. And definitely not getting my brains fucked out. Mostly, it’s because we’re all exhausted. By the time I get upstairs and collapse in bed, I’m half-asleep. Same with the guys. Grainger actually fell asleep in the chair near the fire and got his ass chewed out by Crown last night.
That doesn’t mean, however, that I wouldn’t be down for a nooner. Or a three PMer. Or a whenever-the-fuck fuck.
“What brings you here?” I ask, trying not to be unpleasant. I’m glad Sin told me about their stupid pact. It makes sense. If I’m being honest with myself, it makes a lot of sense. I was sixteen. The youngest of them was twenty-four; the oldest was thirty-two. I also know that love doesn’t mean giving into every single thing a person wants. Sometimes, you have to push back or say no.
Yet, the whole thing seems a bit … overbearing, overreaching, a bit patronizing.
I was heartbroken then. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was. I was devastated.
I grab the towel that’s tossed over a nearby stump, dousing it with water from my water bottle, and doing my best to wipe some of the sweat from my face.
“I’m here to teach you,” Sin tells me conversationally, sauntering over to stand beside me while I clean up and chug the water. Droplets of it escape my lips, rolling down my chin, my neck, between my breasts. Sin’s silver eyes catch and follow them before he looks away sharply.
