Page 76 of Snared Rider

Dean stares at me a beat, his expression unreadable. This scares me because I can usually always read exactly what Dean is thinking. Then, he shakes his head and says, “I hate that you feel that way because that’s not how the rest of us see you at all. You’re family, Beth. That’s your place in the Club and it’s a place you’ll always have. Always.”

This fills me with warmth, and I know it is true. Truthfully, it had been a weak argument to start with, but I’m clutching at straws.

“But, you know,” Dean says, “if you ever want to be an old lady all you’ve got to do is ask.”

Uh, what?

His words stun me into silence. I gawk at him, trying to work out if he’s serious. His expression gives away nothing. It’s not a small thing he’s offering either. It would change his life completely. A brother is responsible for his woman—what she does, says, the way she acts. An old lady reflects on her man. Dean would definitely be taking a risk with me because I’m no shrinking violet. I got the Goddard stubborn streak and temper to match.

I want to tell him how generous his offer is. How much I love him for making it and what it means to me that he did. I also want to tell him there is no way I can accept. Dean should be with a woman who loves him completely. Don’t get me wrong, I love Dean, but not like that. Besides, my love life is a big enough disaster as it is. So, I say nothing in response because my world is doing the waltzes.

He looks at me, and then grins. “If you could see your fucking face right now.”

He was joking? Shit, he was joking.

Of course he was. Dean has no interest in me sexually.

I smack him, feeling stupid.

“That was too fucking easy,” he caws, as if he is the funniest guy on the planet.

“You’re a big shithead,” I tell him, even though I don’t mean it. “Well, either way I should be out of everyone’s hair tomorrow.”

He frowns at me. “Why?”

“I’m leaving on Sunday, remember? Tomorrow is Sunday.” I can’t believe it is. This ten-day trip has flown by—even before the near-death experience.

He shakes his head. “You’re not going anywhere till this shit is shut down.”

I arch my brow at him, put out by his words. “Who put you in charge?”

“I mean it, Beth. You can’t leave.”

I snort at him, but my laughter fades to disbelieve as I take in his expression.

“You’re serious.”

“Too fucking right I’m serious.”

My anxiety spikes. I can’t be stuck here, I can’t. “Dean—”

“No, B, this isn’t up for discussion. This man is a certified lunatic who has both of us in his sights. You go back to London, what’s to stop him following you and hurting you? He’s seen you with me twice now. Both times you were on the back of my bike, which he knows in our world usually means you’re mine. He doesn’t know the real situation, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use you to get to me. If that’s going to happen that is going to happen here, where I can protect you. I’m guessing Alistair couldn’t fight off a fucking cold, let alone a gun-toting maniac.”

“Dean, I can’t just stay here. I have work and a boyfriend who is losing his mind that I’m here as it is.”

“I don’t care. He’ll get over his upset. Can you get over being dead?”

I open and then close my mouth because what the hell do I say to that?

“Exactly,” Dean mutters. “You stay. Your job, your boyfriend—none of that means anything if you’re six feet under.”

While he has a point, this statement still irritates me. I glare at him, letting my annoyance shine through clearly.

“Well, are you any closer to finding him?”

“Nope. He’s like sand in the fucking wind.” He shakes his head and his expression becomes suddenly serious.

This puts me on edge.

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