Page 107 of Psycho

I moved us out of the shower and wrapped a huge towel around her before one for myself.

It was hot outside, despite the early morning, but she still shivered against me.

I urged us out to the room. We went into the walk-in closet in the bedroom.

After I quickly redressed the wound, I felt her eyes on me as we dressed for the day.

I dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt—similar to the one she had worn to bed the night before—and turned to find she had taken a pair of my gray sweats, rolled up several times up her legs, and one of her oversized t-shirts.

Her chin tilted, her eyes set in a challenge as if daring me to say something to her about it.

I grinned and reached for my socks and boots. I moved out to the bed and sat down on the edge, putting those on. She followed me, leaning up against the doorframe, watching at me.

“Where are you going?”

I paused and looked up at her.

There was something off about her voice, but I couldn’t tell what that might be.

“I have some things I have to take care of.”

She frowned. “And when will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Late,” I answered, so she knew not to wait up.

Her frown deepened as she thought about what I said before her facial expression relaxed, and her eyes closed off.

I watched her for a moment when I was done, then stood up and walked over to her.

She tilted her head back and kept her eyes on me.

I cupped her chin and took her in, gliding my thumb over her bottom lip. She didn’t pull away from me, but there was something in her eyes that made me not want to leave her… even more than I was already feeling.

But there was shit I needed to do, and I had already let this girl distract me beyond reason.

I leaned down and pressed a firm kiss against her lips.

When I pulled away, her eyes were still closed, and her cheeks were flushed. She was much more affected by me than she let on.

My jaw clenched as I took her in.

Fuck me, but how the hell was I supposed to just leave?

It took every single fucking ounce of my self-control to pull away from her and walk out the door, heading to my bike in the detached garage.

* * *

It wasnoon by the time I could leave the drug distribution center we’d held out at one of the King’s Men’s warehouses and drove down to Parker Homes, one of the worst neighborhoods in Sacramento.

It was worse than the shit neighborhood Lainey grew up in, on the other side of the highway from her place.

But that was all in the past for her.

If I had it my way, she would never step foot in either place again for the rest of her life.

I took in my surroundings as I pulled my bike up to a park, taking extra caution. This neighborhood was where all the worst of humanity resided.

I was wearing the King’s Men’s cut, and that provided some protection, but it also put a target on my back. But when I beat the shit out of someone, I wanted to make clear it was the sergeant-at-arms of the King’s Men MC beating the shit out of ’em.

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