Dominik’s eyes leave mine in favor of Wyatt, and it’s only now as he’s dismissed me that I realize how attractive he really is. Enemy or not, if I didn’t have Wyatt, I’d consider Dominik Petrov for a little fun. Wyatt’s arm that’s wrapped around me tightens uncomfortably in warning. Looking up at my man, I give him a soft smile that he snarls at. It’s my fake smile and he knows it.
“Bike. Now,” Wyatt barks out, releasing me. For once in my life, I follow the order and go to stand beside Wyatt’s Harley. In the distance, I can hear Wyatt and Dominik exchanging chauvinistic bullshit retorts. I choose to let them have their fun. My comment did exactly as it was supposed to— it put my man on notice that hiding things from me is going to stop.
CHAPTER 19
Wyatt lumbers toward me, his now short hair stock still despite the wind that swirls around us. It was just last night that he brought me a pair of scissors and told me to cut it off. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I did my best to cut his hair down to just a few inches. “Fresh start, babe,” he had said. I can’t say I miss the longer hair. It was always a mess and reminded me too much of the old Wyatt.
Wyatt’s bulking muscles practically explode from his black shirt as he stomps toward me. His chest rises and falls quickly, like he’s willing himself to calm down. I bite at my lower lip, eyes affixed on his, and practically squirm while I wait to wrap my body around him. His eyes hood as he catches sight of my lower lip between my teeth, then he swings a leg over his bike and starts her up. I climb on and wrap my arms around his waist. The deep, loud growl of the bike vibrates beneath me, electrifying my entire body. I lean in, running a hand over the crotch of his jeans as we pull out of the parking lot and head through town.
The first time I did this, I was maybe sixteen years old. Wyatt must have been eighteen or so and he nearly crashed his bike. Now though, as adults with a teenage son, he keeps the bike steady as we leave town and turn off the main road. The area is desolate, on the outskirts of town along Highway 101. By the time Wyatt stops the bike, the bulge in his pants is larger and firmer. I smile to myself, eyeing our surroundings and deciding that if I’m going to be punished for stepping out of line, I damn sure better earn it. Climbing off the bike, I backup toward the tree line to give myself at least a little covering. Turning off the engine, and moving to stand beside the bike, Wyatt fixes his eyes on me.
“When were you going to tell me about New York?”
“Fuckin’ Holly,” he mutters and takes a step closer, but I put my hand up to stop him. Shocking me, he freezes in place. I’m not used to having my man listen to me. The sudden power energizes me. Holly Mercer and I are going to have some words later. A lot of words and we’re going to be having them without either of our men around. I won’t hit her— she is pregnant after all— but Grady still won’t let me around her if he senses how pissed I am. No reason for our men to fight out an issue that’ strictly between us women.
“Who do I belong to?” It’s a demand, not a question.
“Me. You belong to me.” His voice is rough. Good. The more he wants me, the easier this will be.
“Then fucking act like it.” My words are punctuated with my anger. His eyes narrow to slits as he glares down at me. I lift my shirt above my head and place my hands on my hips. His hooded eyes travel down to my breasts. “I am as much Forsaken as you are, if not more. Do not hide things from me.”
“I’m protecting you,” he says on a roar. “You, Zander, and Piper are my entire fucking world. I just barely got the three of you. I won’t let this shit touch you.”
He takes another step closer. My fingers tingle to touch him, but I keep the feeling at bay long enough to sort this out.
“You and your brothers are fucking idiots if you think keeping your women in the dark is the way to win this war. I haven’t been here very long but even I can see where things went wrong, why people have been hurt, and even killed.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” He’s snapping now, charging toward me, and scooping me up in his arms. My head is shoved against his chest, and just like that, I feel at home. It doesn’t matter that we’re in the middle of an argument. Wyatt’s hard body wrapped around my softer one settles me in a way nothing else ever has. Not even holding our newborn children, seeing them open their eyes, and take one of their first breaths, can ever do. Those memories are laced, after all, with an everlasting sorrow that creeps into the edges of even my happiest memories when Wyatt wasn’t there. My beautiful babies both came out so healthy and strong and so very, very precious, but I couldn’t fully enjoy the moment as I wanted to. Neither time. My man should have been there. He should have seen their first breath, and first smile. He should have known them from the moment they entered this world. And he wasn’t there because life is unfair and cruel and addiction is a vicious beast I wouldn’t wish on anybody. Only here, with Wyatt holding me do I ever feel all that pain and anger wash away.