Page 77 of Surrender
“And so am I,” I said, low and steady. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not just a kid anymore, and The Exiled Eight aren’t just Sunday bikers who wear matching vests. I’m not walking into anything blind. I know who he is and what he’s capable of.”
She blinked, her eyes suddenly glassy and sparkling in the street light. “I get it,” she said slowly, fighting to sound stronger than I think she felt. “But I can’t lose you again.”
It hit me harder than anything she could have screamed at me. Because this situation wasn’t about her underestimating what I was capable of. It wasn’t about her thinking that I wasn’t strong enough to protect her.
It was about fear.
Real, gut-wrenching fear.
“I don’t care how good it would feel to know that asshole got everything that was coming to him,” she whispered, pure venom in her words. “I don’tneedthat. I needyou.”
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her wrists, gently pulling her arms from where she had them crossed like a shield. She didn’t resist, letting me pull her in until her arms wound around my waist, tucked in under my cut.
I took her face in my hands, grounding us there, stronger together.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my tone steady and unwavering. “I’m going to handle Parker because what we have isthe mostimportant thing for me to protect right now.”
She searched my face like she needed to see the promise written there.
But it wasn’t one.
It wasjust fucking fact.
“And when I end him, we can finally focus on our new start.”
She didn’t say anything, just leaned in and lay her head on my chest, her ear directly over my heart.
The steady thump was proof I was still alive.
And while I was still alive, I’d fucking fight forus.
Forourfuture.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
DARCY
“Okay, I’m pretty sure you said we were going for drinks. Not… whatever this place is,” I said with a chuckle as Lucy pulled down a side road in Midtown and into a private parking lot.
After seeing the house and my dreams in pieces last night, I was close to showing up at Parker’s mom’s place and bulldozing my fist through his face. Going out for a few drinks with my best friend, then back to the clubhouse to spend the night with Nate, instead of in a cold cell at the police station for assault, was the compromise I came to.
“This place has great drinks, trust me,” she said, pulling her little Honda into a parking spot next to a sparkly-looking Maserati.
The lot wasn’t large, but it was full, and as I glanced around, I noted how many of the cars were high-end.
Jaguars.
Mercedes.
Aston Martins.
They didn’t quite match the scenery. The buildings in this part of the city were old—historical old. The kind that couldn’t be bought and torn down by developers looking to make a profit. The city wanted them preserved for the future, and the idea was sound in theory, but many of them were left to rot and fall apart because the restoration process was too complicated and had too many loopholes to navigate.
This building, in particular, was somewhere in between the two.
Nothing too flashy.
But also, nowhere near broken and falling apart.
