Page 48 of August 20

Glass windows enclosed the pool on both ends, letting in the daylight. A brick wall made up the other side—instant recognition that the pool butted up to Havlin Motorcycle Club's building.

The still surface sparkled. Being the only one at the pool, she stepped to the edge and stuck her toe in the water.

A sigh escaped. The pool was heated.

A cough alerted her that she was no longer alone. She glanced over her shoulder and choked on air.

Maverick walked out of the locker room naked. Not a stitch of clothing on his bulky body. He strolled up to her and stood at the edge of the pool. His pecs bulged. She glanced down.

His cock hung lax against his thick thigh.

Lightheaded, her shallow breathing wasn't providing enough oxygen to her body.

He stepped off the edge without testing the water and sank below the surface. She swayed on her feet. Before he'd disappeared underneath the water, she'd caught sight of the scars on his back.

Scars that always took her breath away, imagining him saving Skye's life and trying to go back inside the house to save Janelle.

Chapter Twenty Five

Brooke remained at the edge of the pool, frowning at Maverick. He stood chest-high in the water. He'd only rented the pool for a half hour. As a favor to him, Bane kept Daisy busy in the office, giving him privacy to swim.

It wasn't unusual for club members to sneak over and cool off, especially in the heat of the summer.

He dove underwater and swam several yards before swimming back. Maybe later, Brooke could meet a Havlin ol' lady, but for now, he couldn't trust her not to beg others to help her escape.

Brooke's frown deepened, and she lowered herself to the lip of the pool and slid into the water, not letting herself sink below the surface.

She doggy paddled over to him. He walked to his right, where she could touch the bottom of the pool.

Her chin dipped below the surface before her toes touched, and she settled in the water. "Did the explosion damage your back?"

He nodded. She'd seen the scars before. He never hid his body from her.

She inhaled swiftly. His back was the least of his concerns. He was more disturbed by the destruction to his throat. The pain was something he had to learn to live with. But the frustration over his inability to talk until he made his point clear wore on him daily.

It was the disappointment of not pleading his case. It was a struggle to show Skye that he loved her without having a coughing fit and scaring her. He wanted to remind her of the past. About how he'd fought for her.

He wanted her to remember.

He could give a shit if others thought he was guilty. Hell, there were many things in his life that he should pay for, but not for loving his daughter.

"You weren't responsible for manufacturing meth in the same house where my niece lived," she murmured.

He thought he'd made that clear when he told her about the explosion, so he refused to answer.

She'd lived with him for three months now. He was neither an addict nor involved in making meth. Once she opened her mind to another viewpoint other than her own, she would see his only purpose in life was gaining custody of his daughter.

Maybe then, she would understand how, along the way to getting Skye back, he'd decided he wanted his child's aunt, too. That was something else Brooke would have to figure out.

"Swim." He pointed at the large clock on the outside of the pool house.

They only had fifteen more minutes before they had to leave. He ducked under the surface and pushed off, swimming lazily across the pool. Until he moved to Seaglass Cove, he thought he'd have to live with the stiffness of the scars along his back. But he'd discovered that after swimming, he moved without discomfort.

He wished it was that simple to fix his throat.

A flash of black and white appeared beside him. He looked to the left as he took another breath and found Brooke swimming. She wasn't racing him.

She slapped at the water as if she hadn't swam in a long time or wasn't that strong of a swimmer.

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