Page 52 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

And I agree. Like that collar around my neck actually means something to me other than my imprisonment. I don’t fight him at all. I help convince Waverly to change into her pajamas and then head to bed. Owen gets very involved in Waverly’s care instead of leaving it all to me like I honestly suspected he would. I didn’t know if I believed his story about Kaylee-Marie until the first night I watched him read to her.

He does the same thing the night he announces our sudden move to Las Vegas. The current nightly read he has going on for her isThe Magic Treehouse.Those kids get up to all kinds ofadventures and Waverly gets so excited to hear her father read and do all the voices, acting out the kids’ adventures to the best of his abilities, even when he doesn’t understand what’s going on completely.

Vegas.

Once Waverly is asleep, I ask a question I’m scared to hear the answer to.

“What are we going to do with Waverly in Vegas? You can’t take her away from her mother and rip her out of school.”

I expect Owen to chew my head off for getting involved in his parenting. We’re in his bedroom where he led me and every last inch of my body trembles nervously around him now. What happened between us scares the crap out of me. There was just far too much feeling. I hate that. I had a chance of staying in control before he did that and now my head is swimming.

I just have to sit with my feelings and this panicked desire to run away. Men have always been trouble for me and this one more than most. Any amount of vulnerability that I feel with Owen threatens to rip me in half. I hate him for putting me in this position at all. I hate him for having a beautiful daughter who I truly enjoy spending time with.

I hate him for everything, which makes it so hard when he answers me with so much damn gentleness about his daughter.

“Southpaw wants her to stay with Tylee in Vegas.”

“Who the hell is Tylee?”

I hate that I sound jealous. I can lie to him and say that’s not what prompts the question, but there’s a part of me that wonders how many women swarm around tough bikers like Owen. Especially since he’s well-endowed like this.

“She’s my sister.”

“I never heard you mention a sister.”

“Because she irritates me.”

Tylee and I will most likely get along based on that description, but Owen’s discomfort is obvious from the sound of his voice.

“You don’t want to be apart from her.”

“No. But she’s a child and Tylee’s condo will have additional security. Ours will be close enough that she can visit but… my daughter is avaluable asset.”

He sounds a little sarcastic as he says it. I fight the urge to put my arm around him and offer him comfort. The leather collar around my neck provokes me to always keepsomeresistance to him whenever possible.

“What about me”

“Southpaw said I should give you a gun.”

I don’t know if I should be offended. Owen detects my uncertainty and smirks, delighting in any emotional response he can provoke from me, even if it’s negative.

“It’s a good thing,” he says. “He thinks you’re capable.”

A flicker of irritation turns into a surge. Why the hell does Owen automatically assume I’ll be down with his gang shit? I know how we met, but he knows I was there against my will. He knows my life has been a trainwreck, but I’m nowhere near a thug. His certainty that I’ll ride or die for him pisses me off. Saving a kid is much different from whatever he has in mind.

“That’s crazy.”

Owen grins. “You’re going to like this.”

“I doubt that.”

“He wants me to kill Hakeem.”

This white boy has lost his damn mind. Kill Hakeem? He plans to do that with just two other white boys? I raise my eyebrows, unable to hide the utter disbelief on my face.

“You have a plan for that?”

“Yes. We find him, we kill him. I thought you would enjoy that.”

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