Page 52 of Sophia, Property of Tracker

“What is it?” I ask again.

Ryan smiles, placing the box in my hands. “Here, see for yourself.”

Untying the ribbon, I move it aside and carefully open the box. There’s black tissue paper and the scent of leather reaches my nostrils. Once the tissue paper is set aside, there’s a black leather jacket folded perfectly. My eyes dart to the white embroidery which reads, ‘Sophia, Property of Tracker.’ My eyes widen, and I quickly look up at him. I’ve seen these jackets before. Jasmine and all the women here wear one. Well, should I say all the women who are either married or in a relationship with one of the bikers. But from what was explained to me, the cut means that you are their property, and you belong to them and only them. I’m not sure how I feel about being someone’s property.

Ryan cups my cheek. “Baby, will you be my ol’ lady?”

My words are stuck in my throat. I’m so confused right now. If he had asked me last night, I would have said yes and cheered for joy, but now, I’m not so sure. How can I be his woman, well property, if he has a child with Tash? If the boy is indeed his, maybe they could be together and raise him as a couple. My stomach clenches at that thought, and I feel a lump form at the back of my throat.

His other hand cups my other cheek, and I look into his mesmerizing green eyes. “If it’s about last night, I’m sorry, okay?” he says sincerely. “I know I overreacted and shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. I just saw red when I saw Gunner’s hands on you. You’re mine, baby, and that means no other man can touch what’s mine. So this jacket here…” he states, lifting it out of the box and holding it up to me, “… proves that you’re mine. And I want you to wear it anytime you’re here or out with me and the club. I know you’re not used to this,” he explains, laying it back in the box. “But this is biker life… this is how we are. We are a brotherhood, and our brothers’ women are also under our protection. So will you, for me… wear this?”

My vision blurs as tears threaten to fall.

I want to say ‘yes, of course, I will,’but something is holding me back. I feel like we have so much to talk about, and I know this doesn’t mean we’re getting married, but it feels like it’s just as serious.

“This is why I haven’t had you here at the club. I didn’t think you would understand our way of life. You knew me when I was an FBI agent, and now you know me as a biker, and if you’re going to be part of my life… this life…” he states, looking around at the room and waving his hand, “… then that means you’re my woman, and by that, you’re my ol’ lady.”

His words hit me right in my chest. The emotions I’m feeling are not easy to explain because I’m so happy, but I’m not ready for this, not yet.

“Ryan,” I say, holding his hands in mine. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you at the café.” He smiles, remembering that time. “You’re incredibly important to me. You are my life, and I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

His mouth falls, and the smile that was there a second ago vanishes. “You’re saying no, aren’t you? Fuck!” He grunts, standing and pacing the floor. “I knew it was too early. Why the fuck did I bring you here? I should have listened to my gut. You weren’t ready for this life. I’ve fucked up. Shit!”

Shoving the sheets and duvet off the bed, I stand and stride to him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face me.

He stares at the floor, and my heart sinks. I’ve never seen him this vulnerable, and I’m worried I’ve offended him. If only he knew how much I want to say yes. Geez, this all feels like he’s just proposed to me, but in reality, he’s asked me to be his woman. For me, though, it holds the same meaning. It’s a commitment and one I will treasure when the time is right.

“Look at me, Ryan.”

He doesn’t. Instead, he mumbles to himself, running one hand through his hair.

“Ryan… please look at me.”

Again nothing.

“Tracker,will you look at me!” I shout, bringing him out of his state.

He frowns. “You called me Tracker.”

“What?”

“I said… you called me Tracker. You’ve never called me Tracker.” Finally, a hint of a smile.

I smile back and move in closer, then place my hands around his waist while looking up at him. “Do you like it when I call you Tracker?”

Nodding, he replies, “Yeah, I do. I love the sound of that name on your lips.” His hands cup my face, and he looks deep into my eyes. “I love you so much.”

Biting down on my bottom lip, I cannot help but think how beautiful he is right now. He’s like a god standing here before me, and he wants me. He’s made that obvious.

“I love you too. You must know that.” Reaching out and running my hands down his chest, I slide my fingers over his name on his cut. Then I look back up at him. “I’m not saying no, Tracker, I’m saying just not now. I want to make sure we’re both ready, and when I say both, I know you are, but after last night, I need you to look into the child that Tash told you about. Because if he is your son, you need to do everything in your power to help him, especially if he’s got heart issues. Tracker—”

“He’s not mine, Sophia. He can’t be… it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, and that is fine, but wouldn’t you like to know if you have a son out there?” I explain, tilting my head to the side.

He sighs, letting his hands drop to his sides.

But I don’t move my hands from around his waist, I need him close, and I need to talk to him about this. “Tracker, please, just do this for me.Ineed this,” I say, pleading with him to do the right thing.

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