Page 116 of Dash

Before, those words would have landed different. I wouldn’t have believed them, wouldn’t have believed him. But now, I let them settle over me like a warm blanket. “Nothing will happen to me. And if it does, you’ll be there.”

He kisses my shoulder. “Every time.”

THIRTY-THREE

DASH

I don’t wantto move.

Dayna’s curled against me, feet tucked under her, the blanket tangled around her ankles.

She looks fucking perfect, even asleep. She swore she’d stay awake for the movie she picked, but she’d tapped out after ten minutes. Now, she’s slumped against me, one hand curled around her belly, the other gripping my shirt.

I glance at the time on my phone. I’ve already pushed it as late as I can, but fuck, I’d give anything to just stay with her.

Carefully, I slide out from under her, but she stirs.

“Do you have to go?” Her voice is sleepy.

“I won’t be long.” I press a kiss to her temple, and her eyes flutter open. “Any nausea?”

“That’s pretty much my default setting these days.”

I frown. “I hate that you feel so shit.”

I hate I have to leave her when she does.

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me at another time. I take payments in orgasms and cake.” Her smile is lopsided.

Cocky too.

“I accept your terms.” I nip her bottom lip before pressing a kiss there.

She groans, rubbing the side of her stomach. “I think our baby hates me.”

I press my hand over hers. “Cut your mum some slack, kid.” I kiss her neck. “We need her. I need her.”

Her hand slides along my cheek. “I need you more. Don’t ever leave me.” she says the last part quietly, a plea that wraps around my heart.

“Never. You’re mine until your last breath. Go to bed.”

“Wake me when you get back.” She’s already halfway asleep.

I make a noncommittal sound in the back of my throat, knowing that if she is asleep, there is no way in fuck I am waking her up.

She needs rest.

I ride over to the clubhouse, my eyes everywhere. The van is parked already, the back doors open when I park my bike and wander over.

Riley and King are loading the crates into the back with Blade, who is hovering, his bruises still prominent. I help load the rest, blocking out everything, but I can’t ignore fucking King.

He’s been running his mouth since I showed up.

“Are you going to talk this much the entire fucking run?” Blade grumbles.

“Did you get your sense of fun knocked out of you when you got beat??” King fires back, grinning like an idiot.

Riley freezes for a beat before he continues stacking the crates in the van. Blade stands tall, and the tension swells between them. “That’s supposed to be a joke?”

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