I’m dying for Ginger to come over and see the townhome. After texting her a hundred times—I counted—I’m so relieved when she appears at the back door. I pull her inside and point at the living room.

“He made it so beautiful, Ginger,” I say, holding onto her so she won’t run away before I’m finished showing her everything. “It’s not scary anymore.”

“Blackjack did all this in a day?”

“His sister helped him. The club bros did too, but it was his idea. He did this for me.”

From the beginning, Ginger fought against my dating Blackjack because she wanted to protect me. I need to show her how Blackjack protects me too.

“He loves me,” I say, holding her hand while we walk through the townhome. “He doesn’t just say the words. He shows me too.”

“Blackjack did a good job,” Ginger mumbles as we end up in the master bedroom.

“He knows me too. Not just the good stuff like people show on dates. He knows the bad stuff.”

“Well, you did try to disembowel him a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, and he still loves me. He knows I get scared sometimes, and I get angry too, but he also sees the good stuff in me.”

Sighing, Ginger wraps an arm around my shoulders. Her hug reassures me, and I realize I’d been shaking. Ginger doesn’t have to like Blackjack or even me. But I need her to understand us.

“Oz helped me see how lucky I am with the situation,” she says and hugs me tighter. “I worried about losing you, and he pointed out how you’re right next door. I won’t lose you when I see you every day.”

“No, you won’t,” I say, wrapping her tighter in my arms so she can’t escape. “I want you and Blackjack. I don’t want to have to choose.”

“You don’t have to,” she says, and I think she might cry.

“You saved me, and now I get to be in love with him.”

Ginger lets me go and wipes her eyes. “Blackjack did a good job with the townhome. He isn’t what I expected. I guess I was thrown off by what an asshole he seemed most days.”

“He is an asshole, but I love him. Flaws and all because that’s how he loves me.”

Cupping my cheeks, Ginger smiles at me. “I should have trusted you. I didn’t see you as a woman, but you knew what you needed.”

“I’m only here because you took me out of the dark room,” I murmur, hugging her again. “Sorry for all the times I hurt you.”

“Sorry for bullying you.”

“Are you really?”

“A little,” she says, grinning as she takes my hand and tugs me downstairs toward the couch. “I have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“No babies for a while.”

“I’m not ready for one. I know that.”

“Good,” she says and sits sideways on the couch to look at me. “I want to get the hang of being a mom to a baby before I become a grandma to your baby.”

“You’ll be a tutu like Tana.”

“Yeah, but not yet. I’m still learning to be a mom to Alani and Makoa.”

“I plan to have a baby when my gut instinct says the time is right. It knew with Blackjack. My gut knows now isn’t the time.”

Ginger’s expression makes me think she wants me to ask her when the time is right, but that’s not happening.

“I wanted to talk to you about Annie.”

My mood gets ugly immediately. “Why?”

“She’s dead.”

“Did you kill her?” I ask too excited.

“Cayenne noticed Annie on the security cameras,” Ginger says, her lips tightening into a line. “Inside the fences.”

“How?”

“She must have been scouting out the gate and watched people put in the codes. Seems like she got three numbers down before she tried. The system showed two failures before she entered. She guessed the last number and got inside. After on the property, the chick tried every townhouse door. Luckily, they were all locked.”

“Every door? Why not just mine?”

“She either didn’t know where Blackjack was staying or she didn’t care. She just wanted inside. Her journal talked about how he wasn’t happy here, and she needed to help get him away from us. The chick was cracked.”

“Did you catch her on the property?”

“No, it was the middle of the night, so Cayenne just watched her on the cameras. Once Annie left, she went back and looked at the logs. Annie’s been around a lot. Though that was the first time she got inside.”

“So you killed her?” I ask, picturing Annie in my mind.

“We went to her place one night. She had dozens of journals filled with crap about Blackjack. She was convinced they were in love. She wrote about the day she came here and said he wanted to leave with her, but that we wouldn’t let him. She never mentioned that crap about him hurting her in her journal. It was all hearts and flowers and us keeping them apart. She planned to get inside again and kill us so Blackjack could be free.”

“How did she die?”

“We made it look like she hung herself. It was pretty quick,” Ginger says before adding. “Too quick for a nutter planning to kill whoever got in her way.”

“You mean Duffy?”

“Alani and Makoa would have been fair game too. I mean, we know she wouldn’t have gotten far in her killing streak, but the bitch had a gun. If she showed up when we were all outside, she might have killed a few of us before we took her down.”

“We need better security,” I say, angry at the thought of someone hurting the kids.

“We need to be more careful when we’re putting in our codes. She probably used her stalker binoculars. People need to block what numbers they’re hitting like at an ATM.”

“Are you sad?”

“Why would I be?” Ginger asks, not seeming sad at all.

“You once said that killing women wasn’t as fun as killing men.”

“Yeah, but it’s still fun when the woman is a threat. I can’t have anyone messing with my family and crew. That’s why I wanted us in Rawlins. It’s safer here, but it’s not safe, and I need to remember that.”

“I’ll remember that too.”

Ginger runs her fingers over my hand. “Annie was dangerous. If not to Blackjack, she’d have hurt someone else eventually. Some people aren’t living in the same reality as the rest of us. She couldn’t see how she and Blackjack were never going to happen.”

“He never fucked her.”

“I know. Oz told me.”

“Blackjack hadn’t fucked anyone in a long time. His dick didn’t work right because when he saw pussy, he would think of the raped lady from when he as a kid. He doesn’t think about her when he sees my pussy.”

“And we’re back to me feeling uncomfortable,” Ginger mutters.

“You’re very sensitive. Did you have a bad childhood too?”

Ginger narrows her eyes, and I try to keep my face serious. Failing quickly, I laugh even before she shoves me down and tickles my waist.

“I will go zombie on you!” I scream through my laughter. “People are food!”

Unafraid of my threat, Ginger tickles me into submission. She lets go long enough for me to shove her backward against the couch. I rest my cheek on her chest and listen to her heart beat rapidly just like it did when she had to wrestle me after we first met. I’d fight her until my muscles gave out and I couldn’t struggle any longer. Once Ginger got what she wanted from me—take a shower, swallow a pill, eat something besides cookies—I cuddled with her while she stroked my hair until I was no longer pissed.

These days, I only want to wrestle Blackjack, and I take my pills and showers without complaining. I’m grown up now or maybe just civilized. Despite so many other changes, I will never stop wanting hugs from the woman who tugged my unwilling ass out of the darkness.