Page 13 of Blaze

“No,” I snapped.

“Oh?” His expression and tone were overly innocent.

King sighed. “Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, jackass.”

“You know why, fucker.”

“Still gonna make you say it.”

I dropped my hands to my sides, both curled into fists, and took a step toward Ace.

“For fuck’s sake, Ace,” King muttered. “Not gonna stop him if he decides to kick your ass.”

“Why are you paying for the damage?” Rebel asked in his usual low, rough tone that matched his perpetual scowl. He seemed genuinely curious, and I had to remind myself that the prez was the only one in the room who understood what I was experiencing.

“Taking care of what’s mine,” I growled before stomping away.

7

COURTNEY

“Pax?” I called after stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around my body.

When he didn’t answer, I tucked the corner between my breasts and slowly opened the door a few inches. I didn’t see him in the room, so I cautiously stepped inside and walked over to the bed. A T-shirt and pair of boxers were waiting for me on the mattress.

After putting them on, I shook my head with a soft laugh. The boxers were so wide on my hips that I had to roll them up twice, and the shirt came all the way down to my mid-thigh.

Only a moment later, the door opened, and Pax walked into the room. My cheeks heated, thinking about how he would have found me if he’d only been a few minutes faster.

"Hey," I whispered.

His eyes turned molten as his gaze swept down my body. “That shirt has never looked so good.”

I ducked my head and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Thanks for leaving it out for me.”

“Willing to bet you’d be more comfortable if you had pants and other girly shit, so I'll ask Stella to get you some stuff.”

“Who's Stella?” I asked, a little disgruntled over how easily he mentioned her.

“She's King’s old lady,” he explained. “He’s our prez and one of my best friends. Known him since we were punk kids, doing stupid shit together because we both had a shitty home life.”

His gaze zeroed in on where my fingers were toying with the bottom of the shirt that he’d loaned me, and I dropped the soft material. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It is what it is.” He shrugged. “If I hadn’t been looking for something I couldn’t find at home, I never would’ve met King. Or Pierce.”

I perched on the edge of the bed, tugging the shirt so that the bottom covered my knees. “Who’s Pierce?”

“He was the prez of the Hounds before King.” He shook his head with a deep chuckle. “And the guy who pulled our heads outta our asses when we were younger. Taught us a fuckuva lot along the way, too.”

“He sounds like he was quite a man.”

“Still is.” At my look of surprise, he added, “Pierce was a hell of a president, but he’s an even better grandpa. And great-grandpa now. Six years ago, he decided to hand the reins over to King so he could spend more time with all of ’em without needing to worry about club business.”

My lips curved into a soft smile as I pictured a gray-haired mountain of a biker surrounded by a passel of little kids. “Sounds like a smart plan to me.”

“He was always good with those.”

“What's ours?” I asked.

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