Page 43 of Brage & Dinah

She ignored the offer to help her out of the chair and stood on her own. He nodded at the other ladies and walked with Dinah out the door.

In the alley, he kept going. There were members hanging around the motorcycles, and he needed privacy. He had a feeling, they'd both had enough of the bedroom lately.

Near the back door of the bar, he stopped and leaned against the wall. "Are you feeling okay to work tonight?"

She nodded.

"Did you eat lunch?"

She gazed down the alley, avoiding any eye contact. "Yes."

"What?"

She looked at him. "What?"

"What did you eat?"

"Oh." She crossed her arms and cupped her elbows. "The same thing as everyone else. An open sandwich and a slice of cantaloupe."

"Ja...good," he murmured, glad she wasn't refusing to eat.

"Do you speak Norwegian? I mean, beyond saying ja," she asked.

"When I call my family." Encouraged because she questioned his life, he wanted her to keep talking. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Some of the other members do."

"A lot don't." He lit a cigarette and found her eyeing him. Holding out his pack of smokes, he offered her one.

She shook her head. "I quit."

"Good for you." He exhaled in the air. "I started smoking when I was fourteen years old, thinking it was an occasional thing, and here I am, down to a half a pack a day."

"You need to chew gum. Any kind and flavor. It helps."

His cock pulsed, remembering how she always chewed gum when he'd first met her and tasted like cinnamon. He was partial to cinnamon.

"Slag has decided they are no longer holding you at the clubhouse." He inhaled on the cigarette, needing to relax.

She raised her perfectly arched brows. "You believe me?"

"There are a lot of holes in your story, Dinah. I don't think your brothers are who you think they are, and I have a feeling you know that. But I don't think you came here to destroy Slag. You came to protect your bro—Tony Reed. Luckily, Slag doesn't discuss business with outsiders, and there was no chance of you ever gaining the information Reed wanted from us." His mouth tightened. "Slag will take care of Moroad in time."

"So, I can leave?" she asked.

"On one condition."

Her shoulders sagged, and she waited for him to continue without asking any more questions. He stubbed out his smoke with the toe of his boot.

"I want you to stay with me at the clubhouse." He held up his hand when her mouth opened. "It's not safe at the rental house, babe. Moroad could get to you before I or anyone else could help you."

"What if I go back to Coeur d'Alene, so you're not responsible for my safety?" Little lines appeared between her brows.

He knew deep down, she'd ask. Last night, he'd prepared to let her go. Standing in front of her, sensing the attraction between them that'd never left, even when she flashed claws and he'd locked her in his room, he couldn't let her go. "I can't let you do that."

"Then, I'm still being held captive here." She looked away and swiped at her cheek. "How long will this go on? Are you going to keep me here forever? Is my life over?"

He grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him. "I don't know what tomorrow or next week will bring. But what I do know is you can continue working at the bar, earning money, and have a safe place to lay your head at night, right now. You'll have the freedom to come and go as long as you let me or one of the other members escort you off the property. If you want to go out to eat or go shopping, I can make sure that happens. It's for your protection. Slag isn't—I'm not going to throw you out to survive on your own."

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