Page 11 of Trick

“Are you okay, baby girl?”

She grasps the sleeve of my sweater in a death grip she seems to have developed lately, and I blow out a breath.

She’s fine. We’re both fine.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

My pulse skitters in my chest at the irate voice behind me. At this rate, I’m going to have a heart attack. I spin around, clutching my heart as it tries to burst through my ribcage.

I didn’t hear Trick sneak up on me, which is impossible in this house. Every floorboard seems to creak and groan, but somehow, he’s standing in the doorway, and he’s furious.

Instinct has me bristling, ready for the fight I know is coming, but I lose my steel when he raises his arms over his head to lean against the doorjamb.

How do guys make that move look so attractive?

It pulls his torso tight, and the inkwork covering his skin ripples over the muscles on his chest and abdomen. Trick lost a lot of bulk in the months he was gone, but he’s still built, and from the looks of things, he’s been hitting the gym lately.

He has the same dark hair as his daughter, but the beard covering his jaw is a new addition, something he’s kept since he came home. I guess there wasn’t a lot of time for shaving between murdering Mara’s killers.

“Heidi!” He snaps my name like the crack of a whip, and I flinch.

Oh, yeah, he’s pissed.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I joke, attempting to cut through the tension swirling between us.

It falls flat, unsurprisingly, and his mouth tightens into a sharper line as he lowers his arms to cross them over his chest.

“You’re not meant to leave without an escort.”

This has been a precaution since Skye came to the clubhouse seeking sanctuary, and it’s also why Bobby was calling so persistently. He’s meant to be my shadow, and I do feel a little bad about dodging him this morning. I’m sure he’ll get shit for it.

“I’m fine.” I wave off his concern, but it’s like pouring gasoline onto a fire.

Trick steps into the room, eating up the space between us, his blazing eyes pinning me.

“I didn’t ask if you’re fine,” he growls, getting in my face. “I can fucking see that you are, considering you’re standing in front of me whole and fucking healthy.”

I should be scared, and if it was anyone else, I might be, but I’ve known Trick for years. As pissed as he is, he’s not going to hurt me.

“What’s the problem?”

His gaze roams over my face, as if checking for any injuries he hasn’t noticed. I squirm under his scrutiny until he decides he’s seen enough. “You disobeying orders, that’s the fucking problem.”

What a fucking arse.

I don’t need to be coddled, and I don’t need to be protected. The only person I can rely on is myself, and I’ve been doing that from the moment I lost my husband. This man doesn’t get to come back and make demands.

I drop a hand to my hip, glaring up at him as if he’s not looming over me like a fucking giant.

“I don’t need you to manage me, and I sure as fuck don’t need to run my movements past you.” I lower my voice as I swear, trying to avoid Sophia hearing it. I’m already worried her vocabulary is going to be mostly curse words.

His eyes blaze as he steps closer. “You do when we’re at war, Heidi.”

“I told you I was going out. It’s not like I snuck away.”

“Yeah, you told me, but I assumed you were planning on taking a prospect with you or even me. Fuck. You don’t just walk out of this house without someone watching your back!”

“I don’t need your fucking protection,” I snap back. “And I’m not a kid. If you want to treat me like one, then I’ll have to decide whether this arrangement is working for me.”

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