If we weren’t in such dire circumstances, I’d probably laugh at how cute he looks, scared of my big bad biker dad.
“Come on,” Rhett says. “Time to see what you’re made of, Pretty Boy.” He smirks, and it makes my stomach dip.
I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
The mood is tense as Rhett and Dane show Wes how to use the gun. After a couple of attempts, he gets the hang of it, but his aim is all off.
“Go again,” Rhett demands. “You need to actually hit your target if you’re going to be useful.”
“Rhett,” I warn. “He’s trying.”
“Yeah, lighten up, Savage. I don’t remember you being such a good shot when we first started carrying.”
“That was different,” he grumbles, correcting Wes's stance for the third time.
Wes shakes him off. “I’ve got it.” He pulls the trigger, and while it’s better, it’s still not great. “Fuck, I really thought I had it this time.”
“Keep trying, Pretty Boy,” Dane snickers. “But if anything happens, you just shoot at anyone who comes through those doors that isn’t wearing a Sinners cut or a police badge.”
Rhett pulls out a pack of smokes and presses one to his lips. I hop down off the stack of tires and saunter over to him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you those things will kill you?”
“There’s a lot of things that can send you to an early grave in this life, princess.” He lights up the end and inhales a deep hit, holding it in his lungs for a second before grabbing the back of my neck and sealing his mouth over mine as he exhales. The bitter taste hits my lungs and I almost choke, but there’s something so erotic about the way he holds me that I don’t.
“Now maybe we can go together.” He pulls away, sucking his smoke again.
“Rhett, don’t say that.”
His jaw clenches. “Fuck, I’m sorry… I just…”
“Yeah.” I run my hands up his solid chest. “I know. I need you both to come back to me.”
He flicks his smoke to the ground and hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. Dropping his head to mine, he inhales deeply. “We don’t plan on going anywhere, princess. I promise.”
“Look out for him.” My eyes go to where Dane is showing off to Wes with his gun. “I still can’t shake the feeling we’re missing something, and he’s been… distracted.”
“What do you mean?” Rhett asks.
“What do you know about Dane’s background?” I ask. “I mean, before he came here.”
“As much as everyone else. Your dad found him outside the compound. He had no ID, there was no note, nothing.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but what if—”
“Rhett, Stray,” Dad booms across the compound. “Let’s roll.”
Rhett grips me tighter, his eyes darker than usual. “Promise me you’ll stay here, no matter what happens. Do not leave this compound, Sadie Ray.”
I nod, overwhelmed by the intensity in his voice. Tears prick my eyes as I curl my hands into his leather cut. “Be safe.” Please God, keep them safe.
A tear slides free, and Rhett catches it with his thumb. “No goodbyes.”
“No goodbyes,” I say, leaning up to kiss him. It’s hard and bruising, and by the time he pulls away, I’m breathless and aching.
“Don’t hog our girl,” Dane says, joining us. I go to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Look out for each other.”
“Relax, Sadie, girl. We’ll find Creed, put a bullet through his brain, and end this shit before anything comes of it. You’ll see.” He drops a kiss on my head. “I love you, Sadie Ray Dalton,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I think I’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”
“Now?” I shriek, swatting his chest. “You choose now to tell me that?”
He chuckles, yanking me back into his arms and burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I love you, princess. Deal with it.”
I’m aware of Rhett and Wes watching us, watching Dane act as if he didn’t just change our dynamic… again.
I care about him. I care about all of them… but love?
That’s something I haven’t allowed myself to think about, not yet. Not so soon after convincing them all that this—the three of us—is what I want.
I peek over at Rhett, but his expression is a stone mask. “We should go,” he says, barely looking at me.
My stomach sinks.
“I want you naked and waiting for us when we get back,” Dane whispers. “There’s something about blood and violence that gets me horny as fuck.”
Swatting Dane’s chest again, I gawk at him, but he only smirks.
“Pretty Boy, take care of our girl while we’re gone.”
“You know it.” Wesley steps up to me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his side as I stand there and fight the building tears.
Rhett and Dane don’t look back, focused solely on the task at hand. But as I watch my guys leave, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end.
It’s just the beginning.
31
Dane
Rhett’s glare burns into the side of my face as we walk toward where the rest of our brothers are waiting to head out to find this motherfucker. Sadie watches our every step, her attention making my already aching body tingle with awareness.
I hadn’t intended on saying what I did to her. It was a spur of the moment thing fueled by the unease I’m feeling about what’s going to go down today.
I’m not usually one to give a shit, mostly happy to run into any kind of fucked-up situation without giving it a second thought. But recently, since Sadie, everything is different.
For the first time, I’m starting to feel like I know who the real Dane Stray is.
He’s not just some abandoned kid no one wanted. I’m Sadie’s, and she’s mine, and fuck if that doesn’t mean everything to me right now.
My life has always been built on the knowledge that I’m only here because the club felt sorry for me, because they didn’t know what else to do with me. I know they love me, that I belong here. But Sadie has chosen me for me, because of who I am. And that—
I bite down on my knuckles, a wave of emotion racing through me and begging me to turn around to be with her.
I trust Pretty Boy to look after her. He might be a shit shot, but I know he won’t go down without a fight. She’s as important to him as she is to me, and he gets that. I just… I don’t want to leave her. Even if I’m protecting her by leaving. By finally putting a bullet through this cunt’s head.
“What?” I finally bark when I can’t cope with Rhett’s interest any longer.
“You fucking love her?” he asks. I knew it’s what was bothering him. I saw it in the way his body jolted when he heard me say the words.
“Yeah,” I say simply. Because it is simple. I fucking love her, and what I said to her was true. I think I always have. “Don’t worry, brother. She’s not expecting a confession out of you anytime soon.”