Page 34 of Warrior

Not a question.

Where did Saint tattoo him?

Is it visible?

Unwillingly, my gaze drops to his bare forearms. The sleeves of his black dress shirt are rolled to his elbows, and his tanned forearms are corded. The skin there is clear of ink.

“Ah.” He undoes the top two buttons and parts the fabric. There, on his right pec, is a bandage. “He told you about this.”

I grit my teeth.

“Is that what was behind your act?” His eyes gleam. “Sweet Artemis, are you jealous?”

I choke on my laugh. “In your dreams, Laurent.”

I slide out of the booth. My stitches pull, but I ignore the twinge of pain. I catch the bartender’s attention and point to Kade. “He’s paying my tab.”

The bartender’s eyes widen when he spots Kade.

They must be real chummy here. It’s why he wanted to meet at Madness, with the façade now broken. He’s not an enemy in West Falls—he’s practically a king.

I thought that meeting with Kade would go better.

Or worse.

Instead, it’s left me off-balance.

I mean—of course it’s more about Saint than it is Kade. But I thought Kade and I were… on good terms, I guess? It’s not like I ever did anything to him.

Minus hide Reese in my condo for a little while.

But that wasn’tbad, it was just concealment.

This is personal. Giving me up to the fucking madman Gabriel has become, choosing Reese…

Kade chooses Reese.

Saint chooses Kade.

It’s all laughable, really, how large the pit in my chest has become. I swipe at my face, making sure there are no tears, but that hollowness has spread to my emotions, too.

I stop on the sidewalk a few feet away from my bike. Someone leans against it, practically blending in with the shadows. In the darkness, it takes me a long moment to recognize Gabriel.

“Care to go for a spin?” he asks.

Without waiting for a reply, he swings his leg overmybike.

I stare at him for a long moment. Maybe if I don’t move, he’ll just get off?

“Better hurry, unless you want Kade to come out and find you in your sorry state.”

My exhale leaves me in a rush. I grab my helmet and yank it on. I don’t have a second one, and after what he put me and Antonio through, I’m not inclined to give up mine. I climb on and sit well back, gripping the side straps.

His body jerks as he kick-starts the bike. It rumbles to life, and he lets out a shout at the same time that he hits the throttle.

We rocket forward.

I lean into the motion, my knees barely touching his hips. If this were anyone else, I’d hold on to them. Okay, notanyoneelse, but I can think of a few I’d be comfortable enough to wrap my arms around.

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