Weasel had to leave, had to get away from Renee and the feelings she evoked in him. He loved her, but didn’t know if he would ever be ready to actually tell her the words.

He was a fucking coward.

When she’d been gone with that asshole he tried to get ahold of her, tried to connect with her and bring her back. But she ignored him at every turn and he had no choice but to let her live her life. He’d had to move on with his.

Weasel pulled his bike into the parking lot in front of the MC, cut the engine, and for a second just sat there. He saw some of the Patches and Prospects milling around outside, some of them working on bikes, a few of them all but fucking a club whore against the side of the club.

This was his life, what he’d known for longer than he could even remember. But he did want something else, felt like he was missing something in his life.

He never thought he would want an old lady, somebody to stand by his side no matter what. He had his brothers from the club, knew they’d always have his back, but that didn’t mean it filled the void he felt. Weasel tried to pretend like he’d always been fine, like he didn’t care about what he was missing or what he could have.

But ever since meeting Renee, she was all he thought about, all he wanted in his life.

But because she was back, living in his house, it was harder to stay away, harder to try to pretend like he didn’t want her in the way he did.

Weasel knew he couldn’t fake this forever, knew that the strain and need he felt inside of himself would come out sooner rather than later.

He didn’t want to ruin things with her, didn’t want to push her away or make her feel uncomfortable, but he also couldn’t live with this emotion that ate at him.

Weasel set his skullcap on the handle and climbed off the bike. He walked past the club members and Prospects groping and grinding on the side of the clubhouse, made his way inside, and ignored all the action going on around him. Drinking, smoking, even some Prospects doing drugs. All littered the interior of the club.

He headed downstairs to where the weight room was. It was a crude setup, almost barbaric in nature and nothing like you’d find in a gym. But for what the guys needed to do, it worked out just fine.

When he finally reached the bottom, he took off his cut and headed over to the dented-in rusted lockers that were set up on the side of the wall. He took off his jeans and grabbed a pair of track shorts from the locker. After those were on and his shit kickers were off and sneakers covered his feet, he walked over to the punching bag. He just needed to get some aggression out, try to numb his emotions.

For the next half hour, he hit the punching bag over and over again, his knuckles aching, his body covered in sweat. But he didn’t stop, couldn’t. All he kept thinking about was Renee, how he wanted to go back to the house, strip her clothes off, and show her how he wanted to take care of her.

And fucking hell, he’d take care of her real good.

He had no order in his life, no control if he was being honest. He restrained himself in everything he did, but that was his only control, that was him hiding what he wanted, how he really felt.

He stepped away from the bag, panting, his chest rising and falling, his body covered in sweat. He was focused on the lightly swinging red and duct-taped, patched-up bag. Weasel should just go to Renee, stop jacking around with his emotions and finally tell her how he felt.

The worst she could do was say she didn’t want him, to tell him that there was nothing that would ever happen between them.

And he’d deal with that, respect what she wanted. But he’d never stop loving her, never stop wanting her.

With his mind made up, Weasel grabbed his clothes, headed upstairs to take a quick shower and grow some balls to finally tell her how he felt. He didn’t know how Vengeance would react to it all, even if she did turn him down. He was going after Vengeance’s baby sister, and tarnished past between them or not, that was family.

He’d tell Renee exactly how he felt, what he wanted to do to her, have with her. But he’d also let her know he couldn’t walk away. He loved her, dammit, and he needed her as his.

Once he was showered and dressed again, he left the clubhouse and headed to his place. He parked his bike. His heart thundering with what he planned on saying. Without overthinking it he headed inside, followed the sound of Renee in the kitchen, and stopped there a second just watching her.

Fuck, she looked so gorgeous.

She was humming to herself, maybe not even aware he was here. But she’d soon find out more than she probably wanted to. She’d find out exactly how loved and wanted she was. Renee would see that a hardened biker like him could treat her like a fucking queen.

If there was one thing that Weasel knew, it was that he couldn’t ignore what he felt anymore. It was eating him up inside, and fuck if he could live with that.