Bo slammed the gavel against the table to adjourn the meeting. They’d been at it for almost two hours inside the Sanctuary, debating potential next steps with the Demon Seed issue. The whole group of the Burning Angels rang in at twenty full-fledged members, which meant a lot of dissenting opinions and conflicting feedback about what the right moves might be.
It was Bo’s job to mediate, to find the high road that cut through the center of it all. But sometimes, like in sticky situations like these, his brothers made it extra hard on him.
Bo rubbed at his face for a moment before pushing away from the table. His brothers dispersed slowly, stretching, grumbling, lighting cigarettes. Butch was the first to open the Sanctuary doors, and loud rock music blasted inside.
“Sometimes I forget how damn thick these doors are,” Butch muttered before heading out. It was just after six on a Friday, which meant that the prospects and blondies had probably gotten the party started for them while they were wrapped up in the meeting.
Bo stood slowly, stretching carefully with the still-healing bullet wound. It had only been a week since the crash, but in some ways it felt like much longer. With the way he and Dakota had been hitting it off, they might as well have been dating for a year.
He fought a smile, eager to get back to her. A week might be too soon to tell anything, but he only had good feelings about this one. Bo’s regular MO was to avoid getting attached, especially to bombshells like Dakota. But there’d been something different about her from the start, like she played a song only he could hear.
And if their teenager-style hang-out sessions, sex marathons and general premarital habitation said anything, they were on track for the long haul.
Bo pushed through the heavy doors of the Sanctuary into the main clubhouse. Friends and prospects dotted the scene, whoops of laughter mingling with the pounding music. He searched for Dakota, already smiling as he imagined laying eyes on her. Seeing that perfect eyebrow arc, her plump ruby red lips, those eyes that felt like they could see into his soul.
But where is she? He scanned the room, trying to curb the impatience which made tense steps across his forearms. A peal of laughter grabbed his attention and in the corner of the clubhouse, he saw Dakota perched on the edge of the couch, surrounded by leaning, leering men, and pressing herself into someone’s back with her tattoo gun.
Bo’s fists clenched and he stilled, watching the scene before him like it was slow motion. Dakota sat back, shaking with laughter, wiping at her face with her forearm. The guy beneath her—who she practically straddled—looked back at her with a twinkle in his eye. The other guys around her stood, hands shoved in pockets or arms crossed over chests, watching her like she was meat, like some hooker on display.
Anger licked through him, closing his vision into a tight tunnel. The noise of the room dulled into a distant roar, and his feet were moving before he could even think about it. He launched himself toward the cluster of guys around her, shoving into the first guy he saw, sending him reeling backwards.
“Whoa, Bo, what the fuck?” The other friends scattered.
Dakota whipped around to look at him, eyebrows a hard line. “Bo, what’s wrong with you?”
Bo struggled to control his breathing, pointing at the guy he’d pushed. He recognized him, though the haze of anger, as one of Turbo’s friends from town. “Don’t you fucking look at her like that.”
“Look at me like what?” Dakota’s eyes hardened and she set her jaw, turning back to the man she was tatting. “I’m in the middle of a job. You can’t come barging in like this when I’m working.”
Bo’s jaw tightened. “And you can’t drape yourself over this dude like you’re about to star in a porno.”
Dakota stilled, the air around her shrinking. Bo’s insides were a jumbled mess, tension and fear and rage alongside the soft whisper of confusion. What are you doing?
“What are you fucking trying to say to me right now?” Dakota’s eyes were like daggers, slicing him in half on the first try.
Bo huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it. Do what you want.” He turned to the other guys who’d been hovering around her, pointing menacingly at them. “And you assholes stay the fuck away from her.” He stormed away, headed for the bar, wanting a crisp shot of whiskey to even out his emotions. He went up to the shiny wooden bar, the part farthest away from Dakota, and pounded his fist three times to get Yeti’s attention.
“What’s up?”
“Give me a fucking shot.”
Yeti didn’t bat an eye at his tone, simply grabbed for the top-shelf bottle reserved for him and the brothers when they needed a good, stiff drink. While he poured the shot, Bo’s eyes drifted back to Dakota. She was back on top of that fuck, tattooing him, while he probably sat beneath her, hard as a rock.
Bo gritted his teeth as Yeti slid the shot glass his way. He tossed it back, grimacing at the beloved sting.
“Another.”
Yeti lifted a brow, pouring a second shot. “What’s got your panties in a twist since the meeting?”
Bo grunted, tossing the second shot back. It went down smoother. He slammed it on the bar top. “The fact that our clubhouse has turned into a fucking free-for-all. Who are those assholes over there by Dakota?”
Yeti walked down the bar, peering around the corner to get a look. When he came back, he said, “There aren’t any guys by Dakota. Just the guy she’s working on, Jerry.”
“Who the fuck is Jerry then?”
Yeti laughed. “You serious?”
Bo huffed. “What?”
“It’s Jerry. You know, Butch’s cousin?” Yeti shook his head, pushing the whisky bottle back into its place on the shelf. “You’ve hung out with him plenty.”
Bo rubbed at his face, feeling some of the tightknit rage relaxing finally. “Whatever.” He stared at the bar top, trying to focus on anything other than his irritation, something to make the spell break. He couldn’t even figure out who he was pissed at—Dakota, or himself. Maybe both.
Or maybe just himself.
Bo this is the same shit you always do, you gotta fucking stop it already. The heavy spiral was beginning, he could feel it from a mile away, except this time he was standing on the precipice and peering over at the infinite depths of his own dark side. It was too easy to fall into that hole—usually triggered by alcohol or heartbreak—but he’d been doing such a good job at avoiding it in recent years.
But maybe that was only because he’d made relationships a huge no-no. Letting people in—that was a surefire way to unleash the possessive beast. Because what happened when he got too close?
Shit exactly like this.
Bo stormed away from the bar, heading for the hallway. He burst through the doors, making them clang obnoxiously behind him, and went straight to his bedroom. He paced for a little bit, unsure what his next step should be. He desperately wanted to see Dakota, but also he couldn’t let go of the jealous rage, not entirely. It still had a death grip on him, even though he could glimpse rationality from between the claws.
He pushed aside the drapes, staring out the window. It was dusky but clouded, a smoggy orange blaze in the sunset, and one of the last items of the meeting came back to him: send recon about the Demon Seeds spotted in Burning Angels territory.
It shouldn’t be him on the squad, but hell if it wouldn’t be tonight. Secret ops were one way to keep his mind off unsavory shit, and tonight’s mission fit the bill. The brothers might protest if he joined the team, but oh well—in the dark of night, hardly anything mattered.
Bo grabbed for his backpack and took stock in the room for what he might need—two extra handguns, cases of bullets, black face mask, black gloves.
Dakota opened the door while he packed, poking her head in. “Can I come in?”
He sniffed, nodding. She came inside and shut the door quietly behind her. Nobody spoke for a moment.
“You so mad at me that you’re moving out of your own room?” He caught the lightness in her voice but he didn’t react. When another few moments of silence dragged on, she tried again. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Bo set the backpack down, steeling himself to look at her. “Nothing.”
“You came out of your meeting like a half-cocked hellion. I was giving Jerry a tattoo. Nothing fucking wrong was happening. Jesus, if I was going to be in a porno, I’d at least have the decency to not do it in plain sight.”
Her words slashed through him, leaving jagged trails. “Oh, so that is the sort of thing you’re into, then?”
She scoffed. “You’re missing the fucking point.”
“Am I?” He picked the backpack up, zipping it shut. “Seems like a lack of respect, and good sense.”
“No, it actually seems like a completely irrational fit of jealousy.” She put her hands on her hips, mouth thinning to a line. “And I don’t give a fuck how you spin it. What happened out there was not my fault.”
“You don’t need to put yourself on top of every guy you work on,” Bo spat, feeling his own vitriol dissipating into the void. She was right. “You don’t have to fucking mount him to get an angle.”
“I didn’t mount anybody,” Dakota said, “And if you talk to me like this again, I’m fucking out of here. I don’t give a damn how risky it is.”
Bo’s jaw tensed and he slung the backpack over his shoulder, studying the comforter. “Don’t say that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She scoffed, tossing her hands in the air. “Like I want to stick around someplace where I get accused of bullshit like this. Bo, I didn’t do anything wrong. This is your issue.”
Bo sighed, the last piece of his resistance unhinging and floating away. “Jesus, Dakota. I know.” He dropped his backpack, the guns inside clattering, and he sank onto the bed. “This is why I don’t do this type of shit.”
Dakota wavered, like maybe she was unsure to believe his about-face. “What type of shit?”
“Fall for women like you.” He rubbed at his face, trying to get a handle on the careening emotions. “This shit always happens.”
She stepped closer. “You mean…”
“The jealousy.” He ran a hand through his hair, afraid to meet her gaze. “I can’t…I don’t know. I feel like I go crazy.”
Dakota sighed, sitting next to him on the bed. “It’s pretty awesome you just said that.”
“What?”
“I mean, I feel like most guys can’t even admit that jealousy is a problem.” She paused, smoothing her hand over his knee. “Like trying to make it all the girl’s fault.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice came out a raw whisper. “I don’t want to drive you away. I don’t want you to go.”
“I won’t. But only if you promise to let me in.”
He smiled wistfully, clasping her hand between his. “That’s the hard shit.”
“I’ll let you in if you let me in.”
Bo dragged his gaze up to meet hers. The swirling, vibrant green of her eyes held him captive. “You go first.”
Dakota hesitated, but opened her mouth to speak. “I’ll tell you the real reason I came to L.A.”
“Tell me.”
“I was escaping a past relationship. I don’t have a stellar history, like it seems you might not either. And my last boyfriend was, well…taken. By someone else. He was actually my college art professor, and we’d been dating in secret for over a year. By the time I graduated and wanted to make things legit, I found out he’d been engaged to a former student practically the entire time.”
Bo blinked a few times, squeezing her hand in his. “He was your college professor?”
“Yeah. Was one of my most influential professors too. I guess eventually my adoration for his knowledge and skill eventually morphed into lust and…whatever. It kind of blinded me.” She pinched her eyes shut for a second. “I don’t ever want to be blinded again, Bo. I won’t be. No man is worth that, especially when it ends up in heart break.”
Bo gritted his teeth, wishing he could snag that professor by the collar and put his head into the wall. “I know it, darlin’. You deserve a million times better than that loser.”
“If anything, he showed me that I don’t want to live in someone else’s shadow…or under some guy’s fucking delusions.” She tutted, shaking her head. “I mean, what a dumbass, to think that the situation could have ever ended well? That he could’ve had it all?”
Bo brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there.
Dakota relaxed a little—maybe his kisses had that effect. She nudged him. “Now you.”
Bo studied the ground, trying to find the best way to say it. He didn’t like diving into this territory. It hurt too damn much. “I don’t like to get close to people.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll get hurt.”
Dakota softened, running her thumb over his knuckles. “How do you know?”
“Because that’s all that’s ever happened. I know we come from different worlds and all, so maybe that means I can learn something from you. But any other girl I’ve let in, she’s slashed my heart. And everyone else has their own way of hurting too. My little brother is disabled for the rest of his life because of me, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him and feel guilty.”
Dakota’s hand stroked his back, a pleasing rhythm. “What happened to him?”
“He was trying to stop a robber at a gas station. He was mimicking the type of shit I’d tell him about here with the club. Standing up for your brothers, doing the best good possible, all that shit. But the guy clipped him in the spine with his gun, knocked out some nerves that handle walking and all that shit. He’s in a wheelchair.”
Dakota covered her mouth. “You couldn’t have controlled that.”
“He hasn’t spoken to me in five years.” Bo rubbed at his face, trying to wipe away from of the residual hurt that pooled like rainwater after a storm. “And I hate how much that hurts.”
“He’s your brother. Of course it hurts.”
“So why should I let more people have that power?” He grabbed for her hand again, needing to feel her warmth, her silky grip. “It ends bad.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to let me in that far?” She nuzzled the side of his neck. “Because I want to go as deep with you as possible. Even though it makes so little sense.” She chuckled softly, biting at his earlobe, sending a thrill of desire through him.
“Darlin’, what I want with you doesn’t make any damn sense either.” He turned to her, scooping her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap. “But you’re the only one I want to try with. Even though it might hurt.”
She nibbled on his other earlobe, arms linked around his neck. “That’s how I feel too.”
He grinned, cinching her closer. “Sounds like we’re on the same page then.”
“But you can’t act like a raging jealous freak,” she warned, pulling back a little to give him a stern look. “That shit’s not okay.”
Bo rested his forehead against hers. “All I can do is try to do better.”
She kissed the tip of his nose. “Good. I think that’ll be just fine then.”