Rodney shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We were all kind of worried about you.”
Clint leaned over the stove, sniffing at breakfast, and said, “You can’t just disappear like that, sweetheart. Mac and Dalton were ornery bastards these past few days, and it wasn’t just your cooking that they missed…”
I shooed him away from the stove. “Oh, it was just Mac and Dalton that missed me then?” I teased.
Clint grunted and wagged a finger at me. “You gave us all quite the scare. You’re a part of the family now.”
Before I could respond, he and Rodney both rejoined their friends at the table. I cut the quiche up and started making plates. There was some leftover fruit salad in the fridge that was a day shy of turning, so I grabbed that and served it next to the quiche.
“Alright, everyone, come grab a plate.”
I stepped back and made room for the throng of hungry people. I smiled a little as I watched them, realizing I had missed this more than I cared to admit. Dalton came through the door, and when our eyes met, I grinned at him. He winked at me, and that simple gesture let me know everything was alright. There was no sign of Mac, though. I keptan eye on the door, waiting for him, but Dalton came up beside me.
“He’s not coming, Vixen.” I frowned, then glanced at the door again, and he rubbed my back. “Just give him time.”
I nodded, and stepped forward to grab two plates. I handed one to him and took the other to the side. Grabbing a pen and a Sharpie, I wrapped the plate in Saran wrap, then wrote “Mac’s” on it before sticking it in the fridge.
After breakfast, I rinsed off the dishes and handed them to Dalton, who put them in the dishwasher. He came up behind me, kissed me on the neck, and said, “I’ve gotta get going, Vixen. Got something I need to do.”
I leaned into him and said, “You got my head all twisted around, you know that?”
He wrapped an arm around my waist. “The feeling’s mutual, but we’ll talk later, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pressed another kiss to the spot he seemed to favor, and I hummed my pleasure. I had pushed all my doubts firmly to the back of my mind. For now.
I gathered my cleaning bucket and headed towards the rooms. I had a single earbud in, listening to music yet trying to stay alert. When I heard the door open behind me, I turned, worried Silas had come back from wherever he disappeared to all the time. Instead, it was Mac leaning against the doorframe. The way he was looking at me made me feel about ten inches tall.
“Mac, hi. Is everything okay?”
I watched as he clenched his jaw so hard I thought it was bound to break. He took a step toward me, and I took a step back.
“Mac?”
He still didn’t say a word—just stepped into the small room with me, then turned and locked the door behind him.
“Okay, you’re freaking me out. What are you doing?”
“Four fucking days.” He took a step towards me with each word. “You just vanished for four fucking days. And you ask me if everything is okay?”
He wasn’t shouting; his voice was so low and deadly calm that I didn’t dare take my eyes off him. I thoughtback to Dalton’s reaction when he had first seen me. This was also a trauma response, just one on an entirely different end of the spectrum.
I did my best to keep my voice smooth and gentle. “Mac, please, let me explain. I was scared, okay?”
He laughed, but it was a sound completely devoid of humor. “Youwere scared? And how exactly did you think I felt, how Dalton felt? The only fucking reason we didn’t come after you is because your girlfriends stopped us. But, please. Tell me how scared you were.”
I’d never seen him like this. This raw. This wasn’t just anger—it was grief, twisted into fury. The only way he knew how to be. I remembered a little of what Maria had told me—losing his mother, then his dad, before being expected to jump into leadership like Superman. No time for grief. No time for pain. Mac hadn’t been allowed to fall apart. The club needed him. He’d been barely twenty, and they expected so much from him. And when he finally did break—when someone put a pipe to his skull and left him in a coma—he woke up to find Silas wearing the crown. Ever since, Mac had clung to control like it was armor. Armor that protected his brother. His club. Himself. But lately… he had started to let his control slip. Started to let me in. And I had run away. I had burned his trust like it didn’t cost him everything to give it in the first place.
I shook my head. “Mac, please. Don’t be like this.” I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him. I fell against his chest and said, “Jesus, Mac, I thought you said you didn’t hurt women. What the fuck was that?”
He made an angry sound and grabbed my jaw. He tilted my head back until I was looking into a pair of the stormiest blue eyes I had ever seen.
“Vixen, I’m not trying to hurt you. But you damn sure keep hurting me.”
“That’s stupid—I haven’t done a thing to you!” Iprotested, and he stared down at me.
“Not all wounds can be seen.”
I blinked at him and whispered, “Mac, I never meant to hurt you. I just needed space.”
He traced my jawline with his thumb, then rubbed circles on my cheek. “Four days, Vixen. You were killing me for four days.”
