Page 48 of Beautifully Reckless
“Hey.” I pinch her chin gently, lifting her face so she has no choice but to look at me. “Itwill. I fucking promise all of this will all be over soon.”
She nods, but her eyes say otherwise.
She doesn’t believe me.
And I get it. Everyone she’s trusted has let her down.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m not going to be one of them.
Alright, sotechnicallyI already let her down when I lost my shit over seeing her pregnant for the first time, but damn… I should get a pass for that. Right? Given what I’ve also been through.
“What do the patches mean?” Abbey asks softly, and my eyes drop to where her finger traces the small three-lined arrow patch with our club death head beneath it.
“That one means Sergeant at Arms,” I say, and her brows shoot up.
“Oh yeah. You’re like the enforcer or whatever. Jols told me about that.”
“Hmmm. Did she now?”
Abbey rolls her eyes. “Yes, and you’d better not tell her off for it.”
My lips twitch into another grin. “It’s my job to pull people into line, Angel. Don’t think I won’t use my authority on you.”
She scoffs quietly. “I’m not part of your gang, Ringo.”
“Not a gang. A club.”
Her eyes narrow. “Your ‘club’,” she uses air quotes with one hand, “has a name, has an identifying logo, has colours. Sounds pretty much like a gang to me.”
“Do you follow football, Angel?” I ask, throwing her off by my abrupt change in subject.
“I guess,” she answers warily. “I haven’t really followed footy for a couple of years. But before that, I barracked for Essendon.”
“Okay, so Essendon is a club. They’ve got colours. Red and Black. An identifying logo with the bomber jet on it. So, aretheya gang?”
She grins. “I see where you’re going, and no, it’s not the same. They don’t go around wearing this.” She jabs her finger against my one percent patch.
My brows shoot up. I wasn’t expecting her to clock that. I mean, it’s no fucking secret, but Abbey doesn’t strike me as the type to binge outlaw biker docos in her spare time to know what the one percent patch means.
“And how do you know about the one percent patch?” I ask, more amused than anything.
“Charlie Hunnam.” She sighs, and I roll my fucking eyes.
“Really?Sons of Anarchy?”
She shrugs. “Lexi and I binged it when we were fifteen. She was more into it than me, but when Jax Teller wasn’t being an arsehole, I kinda liked him. Just a bit.”
I can’t fucking help the wide grin spreading across my face. “So you know a little from a fictional Hollywood production. It’s very American. MC’s operate a little differently here in Australia.”
“How so?” She shuffles higher, nestling her head into the crook of my neck.
Fuck. When her hot breath fans over my skin, I get movement in my cock.
“You really wanna know this stuff?” I ask, instead of answering. It’s purely selfish, because once she knows, there’s a chance she’ll look at me differently.
“I do. Will you tell me? Please?”
Shifting so I can see her face, her big doe eyes lock onto mine.
