Page 172 of 12 Months of Mayhem

“Mmhm. You can probably catch her; she walks home through the alley out the back door.”

You have got to be kidding me. She walks home after her shifts? That shit is way too dangerous, especially at the times she’s getting off work and being a tiny little thing. Poking my head out the back door, I find her a bit down the alley already. She’s booking it, her hips swinging like she’s full of sass and seduction. It’s pointless to yell at her and gain any bum’s attention in the vicinity of her presence when she can’t even hear me.

I’m going to prove a point to her, so she’ll stop this walking home bullshit. Especially with us patching over, shit around here could get even more dangerous than usual. If anyone catches wind she’s my girl, they’ll be looking for an easy way to get a chance at her.

I take off in a jog around the strip club, then make my way down the road a bit to where I know a break in the alley is. If I’m aware it’s here, then others certainly do as well. The liquor store, car wash, and a chicken wing shop are next to the strip club before a few older fourplexes and apartment buildings come into view. I’m assuming she lives in one of them, which only makes me want to pack all her shit up and move her in with me and the brothers.

I hate it how she’s so damn unaware of potential dangers; it makes me feel like I have to do this. I would never hurt her or scare her, but I have a feeling she’s the stubborn type of woman who needs me to prove a point so she’ll listen and learn to trust my warnings.

She strolls on by, oblivious to the outside world as she’s looking at the ground. I swoop in before she notices, grabbing her from behind. I spin us until she’s pushed up against the closest building, breathing hard because I shouldn’t enjoy having this much control over her sexy little body, yet I do. She goes limp in my hands, and my heart thrums in my chest, panic overtaking me as I think I somehow hurt her in the process or made her pass out.

G-damn. I’m such an idiot! I shouldn’t have done this. Someone should’ve been here to tell me this was a bad idea. I’m a fuckin’ dumb-dumb sometimes, I swear, and I’m gonna jack shit up before I ever get a fair shot with her at this rate.

“Raven?” I mutter, although she can’t hear me. I give her a little shake, feeling like a fucking gorilla with a tiny perfect princess in my clutches. My hands shift to her waist, trying to carefully turn her to face me as her body’s bent forward, all dead weight. “I swear I will never forgive myself if I somehow hurt you. It wasn’t the plan, I promise; I was just trying to prove a point at how dangerous it is out here for you alone. How easily you could be snatched. Fuck, my baby cakes, please be okay!”

I’m so busy talking to myself and trying not to hurt her even more that when I eventually get her body shifted, facing me, I’m stunned in utter shock as her arm lifts and a gun barrel is firmly pressed to the front of my forehead. My eyes flick up, noting her steady finger resting on the trigger. One wrong twitch and I’m taking a bullet to my brain, then instead of a fucking candy ass, I’ll be a headless dipshit.

Her irises meet mine, a fiery storm blazing in their depths as she glowers. “You thought you could sneak up on me and I would be too weak to react?” I hold my breath a few beats, remaining wide-eyed and silent until she moves her finger to rest on the side of the trigger and not directly on it, ready to blow my ass into the next county and not in the good sort of way.

Chapter Five

Raven

I repeat my question, staring at him expectantly. I may’ve fucked the oversized biker, but he’s an idiot to think I won’t defend myself if he grabs me like he did from behind. Who does that sort of thing to a deaf woman? I’ll tell you who, someone wanting a lead hole to decorate their body.

“I—” he begins and trails off. He catches me by surprise once more when his hands leave my hips to raise. He holds them out in surrender at first, then, slowly, as he’s not had enough practice, begins to sign as he speaks. “I saw you walking. I was worried about you being alone and tried to prove a point on your safety.”

“And?” Both of my brows are raised. This is Texas, most of the women I know are smart enough to conceal carry, especially if they’re going somewhere alone. He should’ve considered I’d be locked and loaded for this specific scenario.

He continues to speak and sign at the same time, slowly, but I appreciate the consideration he’s offering me. “You called me on it, put me in my place. I’m sorry, beautiful, if I scared you. You had me worrying about your safety, but I had no idea you are packing and know how to use that nine.”

My hand is steady, and I don’t blink as I nod. “It’s small, but gets the job done. You think you’re the first man to sneak up on me?” I ask, and his face turns stony. Men always believe small women are easy targets, and I refuse to give any of them the satisfaction of gaining the upper hand with me. I will bury someone before I allow them to rape, traffic, or kill me.

“Give me a name.” His words are growled, I don’t doubt it for a second by the way his lips move with them. Threateningly. Promising a retribution I’m sure I can’t imagine if he’s given the chance. “I will protect you for as long as you allow me to,” he swears with such sincerity that I don’t doubt it for a minute.

“Why are you looking for me?” I question instead, ready to move us past this moment.

“I don’t want any of them.” He gestures over his shoulder toward the club and then begins to speak and sign again. Is it weird how I kinda love it when he communicates by ASL? “I only want you; I’m yours, no one else’s. Want to come to my clubhouse with me? We’re chillin’ with some brothers from out-of-town.”

“You need dancers for your party?”

He nods. “I also want you there, for me.”

“To fuck?”

He shrugs. “Or to just kick back and chill by my side. Have a drink, relax.”

I release a sigh, putting my Smith & Wesson Equalizer back into my belly band. I’m small enough I can wear the small harness up front with a baggy shirt and most people don’t notice my pistol. Plus, men always seem to grab too high, so they never feel it, giving me an easy opportunity to pull it and surprise them. I’ve had to do it before, on more than one occasion. I could cower and be scared, but I refuse to keep being a victim of life.

“Look,” he embellishes, and every bit of me adores how he’s trying so hard to communicate with me, even though I’ve told him he didn’t have to. It makes it easier for me to move past this brief hiccup and remember why he has my stomach so giddy inside. I enjoy watching his mouth far too much, however, so I seem to miss part of what he says when I get transfixed on his lips and not the actual words leaving them. “I’m sorry. I meant what I said, okay? I’d never hurt you. Ever. I don’t want any of those chicks at the club; you’re the only one I’ve had my eyes on since you showed up.”

I can’t help but smirk. It feels good having him admit as much, even being surrounded by naked women, he only notices me. Granted, I take my clothes off too, but still, he wants me and not any of the other beautiful women I work with. “You want me to dance for you?”

“Only if you want to, but I’m not going to lie, I’d love for you to. You dance like a goddess.” He runs his palm over his shaved head as his gaze skirts me from head to toe. He likes what he sees, I have no doubt by the desire swirling in his gaze. Powerhouse is sin and sex and everything else made to draw me to him.

My cheeks warm from his sweet compliment, and I pause a beat, staring when he holds his hand out to me. My eyes flash to his—warm, safe, sexy—before I place my palm in his. He threads our fingers together and gives me a gentle tug until I’m walking close to his side, back towards the bar and the way I just came from. He reaches across with his free hand, tucking part of my hair behind my ear as we continue to make our way to the parking lot with motorcycles and a few of the girls I work with. I can’t seem to stop glancing at him.

So big.

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