She sighed into me, settling warm and contented as a cat when I stroked a hand over her hair.
“I might lose it, you know,” she muttered.
My hand stilled on the masses of gold silk. “Fuck, baby.”
“You might not want me. Cancer isn’t a pretty illness, Z.”
I gripped her chin and tilted it up ’til I could look into those scared eyes. Pressed a warm kiss to her lips and said, “Don’t be a fuckin’ dumbass.”
“I might die,” she whispered even softer.
“You might,” I agreed ’cause I wanted to be honest with her but the thought had daggers shootin’ between each of my ribs, all angled at my heart.
“Do you think I’ll go to heaven?” she asked me.
“Fuck yeah, which sucks for me.”
She shifted between my legs, tippin’ her head up so she could look past my bearded jaw and into my eyes. “You going to explain that to me?”
I reached out to rub one callused thumb along the plump curve of her lower lip, my concentration so intense it felt like my eyes burned. “You asked me any day ’fore I met you, I woulda said there was no fuckin’ chance I’d get into heaven. A man like me havin’ done the things I did, things I needed to do? Fuck no.”
When she tried to protest, I pressed my thumb harder against her lush mouth and felt my face turn to fuckin’ stone. “Now, I ain’t makin’ you any promises here, little warrior, but if your fine ass is going to heaven—and it fuckin’ well is—I’ll find a way to get there too. If I gotta move into that fuckin’ church and pay penance every goddamn hour, I’ll do it. If I gotta give up boozin’, guns and drug runnin’, I’ll fuckin’ well do it and I’d do it now if it meant I got a place beside my girl behind those pearly gates.”
She bit her lip to keep from cryin’ because she knew I didn’t like her tears and then she valiantly tried to lighten the mood. “You’d probably have to give up cursing too. I think that’s a pretty tall order.”
“Fuck yeah, it is,” I agreed before jerking her even closer to me until we were fused together, until I could feel the reassurin’ beat of her heart against my chest. A heartbeat so much more important than my own. “Do it for you, Lou. Do anythin’ for you.”
My house didn’t feel like my home anymore.
Not that it ever really had.
But the curving arms of the double-sided grand staircase, the plush carpets under the heavy antique furniture, the window hangings dripping with tassels and threads of gold and the crystal lights all seemed too opulent to me now, bright in a way my eyes couldn’t handle. I’d grown used to the dark and neon lights of The Lotus and Eugene’s Bar, of the cool natural light that spilled through the wide windows of Zeus’s rustic house on the beach and cabin in the woods. I craved his lived-in furniture, the cluster of family photos hung haphazardly on the wall leading from the entryway to the kitchen. The sounds of laughter and instant feel of warmth the second you opened the door to that home.
Instead, I sat in my habitual spot at the grand dining table in my father’s house wearing a thick brocade white and gold dress that itched my sensitive skin and did its best to collapse the shape of my curves. My hair was up in a swirl, my pearls were in my ears and I was ready for battle.
It was the kind of battle I’d grown up taking part in so I was ready for the role I’d given myself to play. There was something going on with my dad and his companions—the Danners, Venturas, and Mr. Warren—and I was fairly certain it had something to do with The Fallen.
It was the MC who was my family now, so I made it my business to dig a little deeper.
“You look radiant this evening, Louise,” my mother praised me.
“I told her the other day how happy I was that her hair wasn’t falling out,” Mr. Warren shared with her. “It’s such pretty hair.”
My mother tittered and touched her own artificially blond hair. “Of course, she gets it from me so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” he said with a wink that set my mother to blushing.
Yuck.
Was there no one Mr. Warren wouldn’t flirt with?
“How’re you feeling?” Lionel asked quietly, leaning forward in his seat across from me to make the question more intimate.
Not for the first time, I surprised myself by liking Lionel Danner.
I shrugged. “As they said, not much hair loss yet so I’m a happy camper.”
“Louise,” my sister Bea chided me.
She’d been forced to attend the dinner because my parents had forgotten to find something else for her to do that night. She looked immensely uncomfortable in her shapeless black dress with her hair done up in a tight bun.
I winked at her just to see the warmth flood her eyes.
“You’ve been busy lately, zorra,” Javier said from my side.
I blinked at him. “Have I? No more than usual.”
“I suppose for a smart young lady like yourself juggling academics, cheerleading, ballet, chemotherapy, friendships and serving is an easy task,” he agreed with a flippant wave of his hand.
I shot a glance at Benjamin but happily he was talking to Irina on his other side.
“As anyone in Entrance will tell you, I’m a talented girl,” I said with a sharp smile that cut painfully into my cheeks.
“Yes, with so many interests, one might almost say you’re two very different people at the end of the day,” Javier said as he swirled that deep red wine in his glass.
I could tell he got off on it, on being a villain. He was like a little kid with a shiny new toy, so eager to play with it that he didn’t realize if he wasn’t careful, it would break.
“You know so much about me, Javier. I have to say, I’m flattered.”
He inclined his head. “I intend to bed down in Entrance for a very long time, Louise. It’s good to know the players.”
“And what business is that?” I asked innocently. “Maybe I could intern with you one summer.”
He laughed. “Maybe. I specialize in pharmaceuticals. Are you interested in that field?”
“Recreationally.” I winked.
His laugh was delighted as he leaned forward intimately. “You are a treasure. I can understand why The Fallen MC enjoys your company so much.”
I didn’t deny that I knew them because it was obvious that he knew everything about Loulou Fox. “What do you know about them?”
“I know that there’s a new MC in town and they seem to have The Fallen’s every move written down by an oracle before they even make it. And I know, personally, that they are a very well-funded organization.”
“Doesn’t seem you know much more than speculation,” I said as I casually cut into my bloody steak and brought a morsel to my mouth.
Javier didn’t like my lack of interest. He leaned closer and divulged. “What do I care about a gang but to use it for a greater means. No, I’m not after The Fallen MC in particular so I don’t care what they stand for, what they’re really about. I only need to know the basic facts to make my moves.”
“So you must know Zeus Garro,” I said in a low voice as I served him more wine, watching the red liquid bleed into his glass.