Squeezing my eyes shut again a sob escapes as I come back from that memory. It’s just a matter of time before Brunner’s family comes looking for him again.
My brother said it’s best I don’t come back to the clubhouse. I haven’t spoken to my brother in seven years. I miss him so much.
My thoughts go to earlier today. “Was that rocket launcher for me?”
“That’s a great question?” I hear Mavis’s voice on the other side of the shower curtain. And my body jerks back against the wall in the small shower. I place the washcloth over my breasts and guard a hand over my pussy.
A towel appears over the shower curtain. That gesture makes me feel safe. Honestly, knowing he didn’t try to hurt me so far makes me feel safe.
I turn off the water and wrap the towel around my body.
“Why would he want to kill you, Sophie?” His voice is deep and commanding but also drips with silk that could make any woman fall to her knees for him. But not me. I’m not into bikers for various reasons.
I peel back the shower curtain and step on the bathmat in front of him. “Because of the fight we got into last night.”
He stands from the toilet seat and caresses my bruised cheek.
A shiver slips up my spine. I should stop staring at him. God, he’s beautiful in a Gladiator biker kind of way. I wonderhow many women come to the club just to have him look at them like he’s looking at me.
“He warned me not to think about leaving.”
Mavis removes his hand from my face. I instantly want the feel of his calloused hand back on my cheek.
Can’t be attracted to the man holding you captive.
I move to the sink and line my toothbrush with toothpaste.
Mavis stands behind me. I peek at the black leather cut he’s wearing. His name patch grabs my attention and a few others.
“I think he would’ve collected you before you got far. I believe he knew I was there last night. And circled back this morning to send a message.”
I listen intently as I brush my teeth. Narrowing my eyes, I glance at my forehead. Blood trickles from my hairline.
“Shit, I told Tonya to patch you up,” he bites out.
He crouches down and retrieves items from the cabinet.
I rinse off my toothbrush and rinse out my mouth before placing the items into my toiletry bag.
He sits the first aid kit on the counter.
“You keep a first aid kit on hand?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Yeah, we get into fights sometimes. I have to be able to patch myself up.”
I arch a brow. “You don’t patch yourself up.”
“That’s true. If I get hurt again, will you let another woman patch me up?”
Heat hits my core. What the fuck is this man doing to me?
“I don’t care if another woman patches you up,” I lie.
Why do I care who patches up this lunatic?
He laughs again. “I can say for certain no other man will touch what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.”
