Page 129 of Blade

Archie opened the door for Rachel and me.

I stopped to look around the parking lot.

“Everything ok?”

“Hmm?” I looked at Archie. “Yea, just getting used to having eyes on me all the time.”

“It won’t take long before you don’t even notice anymore,” Rachel said, sliding into the back seat.

One more cursory glance around, and I slid in right next to her so Archie could take us home.

Things seemed to fall into a lull over the next few days. I spent most of my days at home, reorganizing and going through Grams’ things, deciding what to keep and what to donate. Blade and I often spent evenings at the clubhouse, so I could get to know my uncle and the rest of the brothers.

Today, Micah was at the clubhouse without me. He had church this morning and a few meetings to get through. The officers didn’t hold regular jobs. It made them available when they needed to fill in somewhere or if the club hadbusinessthey needed to take care of.

Mostly, I didn’t ask about club business. If it didn’t affect my life, I didn’t need the stress of knowing what they were dealing with.

So I was home, blessedly alone for a change, when I heard the screen door slam from upstairs, where I was putting away clothes. Laundry was one of those domestic chores that was a necessary evil.

I assumed Micah must have forgotten something. When I didn’t hear him call out, I went downstairs to see what he needed help with. Lord knew he wouldn’t find his head if it didn’t sit between his shoulders.

“Micah? Baby, did you forget something?” I rounded the corner into the living room and my mouth dropped open at the man standing in my home.

Grant Nicholson.

“Hey, Beck. How ya been?” he asked, trudging toward me. “Wanna know how I’ve been? In. Fucking. Pain. After you kicked me in the balls and the head, your boyfriend came over with his friends and kicked my ass. I ended up in the hospital.” He snarled.

I stood there frozen, not sure what to do.

Micah was across the street. I knew the prospect at the gate would have seen Grant coming up to the house. Even if he didn’t recognize him, he would have immediately told Micah someone was here.

I took a step back toward the stairs.

“What are you doing here, Grant?”

My phone was in my back pocket. If I could just get it without him noticing, I could call someone.

“What am I doing here? You still owe me. I came to collect what should have been mine.”

I stopped when my back hit the stairs. Slowly reaching my hands back, I slid my phone out of my pocket. Thank God for speed dialing. Placing my finger on what I knew was the number two, I held it there, knowing it would dial Micah’s phone.

Yes, Micah is the number one man in my life, much to my father’s dismay, but the number one button was for my voicemail, which made my dad number three and my uncle number four.

King had Nav hack into my phone frequently to change it.

I wasn’t sure who I was calling, but I knew that whoever it was, they would come when I called.

Grant stepped up, so we were toe to toe. He leaned down into me.

I had nowhere to pull back, so I turned my head to the side.

“She told me I could have you. We had it all planned out.”

“Who?” I asked, remembering him saying the same thing the night he attacked me. I thought he was rambling, now I wasn’t so sure.

“She said we would get married. We would have babies. That would connect us forever. And there was nothing that asshole could do.”

“Grant—”

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