16
I’m let go about thirty minutes later, and I’m dead tired, still in my work clothes from this morning, and all I want is a hot shower and my bed. As I step outside the police station, I realize that I have no way of getting home, I don’t even have my bag—which was in Knuckles’s bedroom—to call a cab or an Uber, and no way of paying for one anyway.
Basically, I’m fucked.
I have no idea where the men are, but I’d think that most likely they’re still being held and questioned. I have no idea what happened to Katie either.
Fuck.
When I realize I have some cash stashed at home, I walk to the main road and hail a cab. Luckily I keep a hidden spare key outside the front of my house, otherwise I’d have no way to get in, because my keys are in my bag too.
What a night.
I can easily say that I’ve never been taken in or questioned before, but it wasn’t on my bucket list, so there’s no cause for celebration. I hope Knuckles is okay, surely they won’t be able to keep them for much longer, unless there’s evidence against all of them instead of just Shovel.
What a clusterfuck.
And where the hell is Erin?
I’m going to kill her when I see her.
My reason for trying to resist Knuckles was self-preservation.
To guard my heart.
I didn’t want to be vulnerable, and I didn’t want to lose control over my emotions.
But this is what should have been the reason. This would have never happened to me if I wasn’t seeing him. Being with a man like Knuckles comes with a risk.
A huge one.
And now I’m wondering if all of this is even worth it.
I’m woken up to a banging on my front door and my dogs losing their shit. Rolling over onto my stomach, I look at the clock to check the time.
Four in the morning.
Fucking hell.
Forcing myself out of bed, I take my time going downstairs, then look through the peephole to see who it is.
It’s Knuckles.
I quickly unlock the door and let him in. He’s in different clothes than when we were arrested, and is holding my bag.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him and giving it a hug. “My whole life is in here. What happened?”
I lock the door and we both head into the kitchen, where I put some coffee on. “They questioned us all for hours but couldn’t find anything to arrest us on, so they let us go.”
“What about Shovel?” I ask, knowing they must have had something on him.
“Well him they charged,” he admits, ducking his head and sighing. “There’s video footage of him getting into a fight at a bar and pulling out a gun, which ended up being unlicensed. He also took the fall for other shit that was found in the clubhouse. Luckily the shit we really wouldn’t want anyone to see was well hidden.”
I open my mouth, then close it on a deep sigh. “How is this your life? And how did I get dragged into it?”
“I know,” he groans, coming to me and wrapping me in his arms. “I came here to say I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Celina. If I ever thought there was even a small chance of something like that going down I never would have brought you there. It’s been so quiet with the cops for such a long time, I thought we were safe.”
“Are you ever safe?” I ask him.
I’m sure he assumed nothing would happen, but there’s obviously always a chance that something will. Can I live like that? Not knowing when at any given point something could go bad? I guess everyone has to live like that to some extent, but bikers have added danger, and my being with one brings me into this world.
“No, I guess not, but normally we have everything under control,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “I hate that this happened, and that you had to get taken in and questioned. I’m sorry, all right? And I understand if you want to run from this, and from me, but I’m kind of already in too deep and I don’t want to let you go. I know that it sounds selfish, and fuck . . . maybe it is, but it’s the truth. I want you in my life. I might not deserve you, but I fuckin’ want you.”
I sigh and bury my face in his chest, then lift my face up. “I’m kind of numb right now, to be honest, I have no idea what to think. What happened to Katie?”
“Who?” he asks, brow furrowing in confusion.
I purse my lips. “The girl who was sitting in the clubhouse, crying.”
“Oh, she’s back at the clubhouse,” he says, stroking my hair. “She has nowhere else to go, so she’s probably going to be staying with us for a while.”
“Who is she?” I ask, still confused about everything that took place.
He winces, and then admits, “Some girl that Shovel has apparently knocked up. When her family found out, they kicked her out onto the street, and now with Shovel’s whole situation, we don’t know when he’s going to be able to take care of her, so we’re going to have to step in and do it for him.”
“She looked terrified,” I say, frowning. “And young.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
“And how old is Shovel?” I ask, unable to keep the judgment out of my tone.
“Late twenties,” he replies, and I guess that’s not so bad.
“Any way I can help?” I ask him. “Maybe she will need a friend, or something.”
There’s no point in my judging the situation, it’s happened, and all I can do is offer my help if she needs it.
“I’m sure she’d love that. Erin is back at the clubhouse with her now. Apparently she had gone out for drinks with her friend Mona and you had just missed her.”
“I’m glad she wasn’t there though,” I tell him, sighing.
Rather me than her, even though this is more her life than mine.
“You’re sweet,” he says, smiling down at me. He looks so tired, lines appearing around his eyes. “She’s stronger than you think though.”
“It’s not that I don’t think she’s strong, trust me. I’m sure she can handle anything life throws at her, and she has. It’s just that to me she’s always going to be my baby cousin, and I will always look out for her. That will never change,” I try to explain, moving away from him toward the coffee maker, taking it off the stove. “Coffee or bed?”
“Bed, I think,” he replies.
“Okay,” I say, taking his hand and leading him upstairs. I thought I’d lose my shit at both Knuckles and Erin, especially Knuckles, but now all the anger has disappeared. I’m just happy everyone is okay. I mean, Shovel isn’t, but I can’t help that. Knuckles is okay, and so is Erin and her dad, and that’s all that matters to me. When we make it to the bedroom he undresses, and I do the same, needing to feel him against me, just to cuddle and sleep, nothing more. I don’t have anything else in me right now. I’m exhausted, confused, and I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with the dangerous man next to me.
And if I’m being honest, I’m a little disappointed in myself for letting that happen.
He’s trouble, bad news, but he’s damn sweet and makes me feel alive.
He’s an addictive contradiction, and he’s wearing me down.
Eyes closing, I press a kiss onto his shoulder and fall asleep, feeling like this is where I’m meant to be but knowing that might not mean that it’s good for me.
When I wake up I’m spooning Knuckles from behind, my arms and one of my legs wrapped around him. And I’m squeezing him tightly. I don’t know how he’s slept like this for most of the night, but it’s like I just couldn’t get close enough to him. I kiss his bare back, letting him know I’m awake.
“Good morning,” he whispers, voice thick. Rolling over to face me, he watches me silently before saying, “You’re like a cat. You decide when and if you want affection, and if you don’t want it, you just move away. I should start calling you Kitty.”
I laugh, chest shaking. “I’m not like a cat.”
Although maybe he’s right. Sometimes I want affection, if I’m in the mood, and otherwise I just like to be left alone. When I want the attention though, he needs to give it to me, or I’m not going to be very happy.
“Yes you are, Kitty,” he says, burying his face in my neck.
“You are not going to make that my pet name,” I say, then snicker. “Get it? Pet name?”
He kisses my neck, and I can feel him smile against my skin. “Yes, sweetheart, I get it, but thanks for explaining it.”
“Just making sure,” I reply, stretching my arms out. “What time is it? I can’t be late for work, or my boss is going to kill me.”
And my ex-boyfriend will be up my ass about it too.
“It’s six, so you have plenty of time,” he assures me, kissing down my collarbone. “And I have plenty of time to catch up on what I was about to do to you last night before everything went to hell.”
“Understatement,” I breathe.
“Let me make it up to you,” he says as he continues to kiss his way down my body.
“You’re going to have to make it up to me with more than just an orgasm,” I say, my lashes fluttering as he reaches my hip bone and stops to nibble it a little before continuing further south.
“Three orgasms? Four?”
My mouth opens as he starts to lick around my pussy, and I moan as his tongue delves inside.
I don’t even reply to his comment, too far gone, but I think we both know nothing is going to make up for what happened, except my being able to accept that this is his life.
This is it, no more sugarcoating or romanticizing, this is the cold, hard truth of it.
And I can either take it or leave it.