“I don’t know if I can live in this world. How do I know I can trust you?” I ask, wiping the tears from my face.
“If you want to leave, we’ll pack up right now and leave,” he replies, brushing a tear from my face.
My head snaps up, catching the we in his statement. He would leave the club and everything he has behind just for me? The sliver of hope that Shadow and I might be able to redeem what’s left of us causes my hopes to rise.
Shadow’s blue eyes pierce mine. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you go that easy,” he informs me, his face serious.
He leans in and kisses my bottom lip softly. “I told you in the beginning you would hate me more than like me, but I’ll be damned if I ever let you go again,” he whispers against my lips.
My mouth parts with disbelief, his words hitting my heart in all the right places.
“I broke a club law going out with that guy, didn’t I?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret it. Shadows face clenches and turns red.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been an angel,” he states, justifying my actions. I cringe at his words. I don’t want to know who he has slept with. Not right now, anyway.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not fucking pissed about it, but we both fucked up,” he says, running his hands through his hair.
“We are so messed up,” I mutter. What couple has a conversation like this?
“No arguing there,” Shadow remarks, leaning against the wall.
I lay my head against the wall, as well, and turn to look at his handsome profile, wondering why he sat on his bike last night and let things escalate between my mother and me.
“Last night, with my mom…” I start, wiping my tears from my cheeks.
“What about it?” he asks.
“You saw what was going on, so why didn’t you try and stop it? Or better yet, why didn’t you try and stop me from killing a federal agent?” I question, raising my voice.
Shadow grins and looks at me, as if I get what he smiling about.
“What?” I ask.
“The way you were holding that gun, there was no way you would hit anything,” he chuckles, making me laugh along with him.
“Yeah, well, Bobby was supposed to teach me how to shoot,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Bobby won’t be teaching you anything,” he sneers coldly. “I’ll teach you.” He stands up and looks down at me, a question playing on his lips.
“What?” I ask.
“If you didn’t suck at aiming and could do it all over again, would you have killed your mom?” he wonders, staring at me with his eyebrows furrowed.
I think about everything: the way my mother hated me growing up, her never being around, and my never being enough for her. She only kept me around to destroy the club, never loving me, never caring. When I found love, found my place in the world, she tried to ruin it all.
I look up at Shadow, the answer clear. “Absolutely.”
I PULL MY CAR into the parking lot behind a burnt-down gas station, grab my rifle case, and sling it over my back for the hike over the grassy bluff. My feet crunch on the dead grass with every step I take; the sun has been hot and brutal this summer, killing everything in its path. The long-sleeve shirt I’m wearing to cover my tattoos begins to stick to my body with the perspiration building from the walk; this fucking heat is ridiculous. I finally make it to the top of the hill and lay my bag on the ground. I look across the highway and spot the dingy hotel about four hundred yards away. One thing I’m good at is killing, and this one I’ll do with pleasure. I set the bipod for my sniper and load the rifle with jacketed hollow-points then grab the binoculars to get a better look at the hotel and scope out the surrounding area.