Page 53 of Knot My MC
“Kiks,” Jag says softly. “You don’t mean that.”
I don’t respond, because he’s right. I didn’t mean it. I’m confused and angry and grieving. I’m lashing out, but at the same time, how dare they think it would be this easy.
“I know we’re nowhere near earning your forgiveness,” Knox cuts in quickly,knowingme all too well. “But this is a start.” He slides off the couch and drops to his knees in front of me, placing his hands on the back of my thighs and gazing up at me.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Begging, Angel.” He tightens his grip. “We messed up. We hurt you. I don’t know that anything would have changed us leaving after what happened, but you deserved an explanation.” He rests his chin on my leg, somehow commanding me more in this position than if he were looming over me. He licks his lips. “Please.”
“Please what?” My eyes bounce between his. “What are you asking me, Knox?”
His eyes flutter closed when I say his name. “For a chance.”
“And if it doesn’t work? You’re going to let me go?”
“No,” he growls. His reddish-brown eyes glow with something close to madness. “You’reours.”
“Then what’s the point of all of this?” I reach down and grab his chin, shaking him a little. He purrs, and I grip his chin tighter. “I’m. Not. Yours.”
His eyes flash with challenge and my core clenches with need. He’s so close to my cunt he immediately scents the arousal stirring within me. The fingers pressing into the backs of my legs inch higher.
“You’ve always been ours, Angel.” He presses his cheek into my palm, burrowing into my hold.
Those words make my heart sing.
“You know, I would have believed that then.” I drop his chin and step out of his hold.
“What do we need to do?” Crow meets my gaze.
“I don’t know,” I confess. “I know why you did it now, but that doesn’t change the way it made me feel. The explanation doesn’t magically fix years of pain. I’m not even sure I can trust you guys.”
You can, my heart whispers.They’ve always been your pack.
“We’ll do whatever you want.” Knox is still kneeling, gazing up at me with his hands resting on his thighs. Him down there on the floor, begging for forgiveness, gives me the strength I need to ask the next questions without falling headlong into my grief.
“Will you help me get some things from my dad’s house?”
“Of course,” Knox says. “We can go now.”
I don’t really know what I expected, but the three of them jump into action. Knox gathers the money all around him, carefully placing it back on the table. He casts his gaze in my direction.That money is yours.Crow snatches their vests off a little coat rack hanging on the wall next to the front door. Jag appears in front of me with a small mug of coffee.
“It’s warm-ish, but I figure you might want some.”
He’s not wrong. I guzzle it, noting the subtle burst of cinnamon. One day I’ll have it fresh and piping hot. For now, I hand the coffee cup back to him.
“Good?”
I nod.
“It reminded me of you. When you’re angry, you smell like cinnamon.”
“Oh.” I sound so put together.
Lightly bumping his fist against my chin—a gesture that makes my chest ache—he grins and turns to put the mug in the sink. It takes them all of three minutes to get organized. I slip into my shoes and follow them through the club house. Last night I pretended not to care about the other members of the MC. Today though, with everyone sober, the discontent slithering through the room raises my hackles. Not everyone is hostile. I spot a few friendly faces. A few leering ones too but Knox sends them a warning glare, and they quickly turn their attention to the half-naked women making coffee behind the bar.
I’m no stranger to seeing random ass hanging out, but a little growl slips past my lips. A hand rests at the small of my back, and Crow crowds my space, blocking those females from my line of sight.
“Groupies,” he murmurs. His hand slides around my waist and pulls me close. The shift in position fills my nostrils with whiskey and amber, and I breathe it in.
