Page 37 of Daughters of Chaos

He tenses at my words, and worry seeps into his gaze. Before either of us can say more, Dad starts speaking. "Raptor. Reaper. You two are staying with the girls tonight. Jesse's going to meet you at their place after he closes the bar."

Raptor nods, but I can still feel the anxiety roiling inside him. The truth about his club was finally revealed, and he's worried about how that news is affecting me. I know that won't go away until we talk, but that can't happen here. Not in front of my dad.

We'll talk later. When we're alone.

21

Phoenix

Raptor and Reaper follow us home, parking their bikes in Raptor's driveway in case any rival crew members decide to cruise the neighborhood. Dad implored us to be careful. He reminded us how dangerous Dom and his crew were and told us we would be safer at our place than the clubhouse for now. I guess he's worried the Desert Bastards, Dom's crew, will show up there if they have another attack planned.

It's a lot to take in. Twenty-four hours ago, I was a normal adult taking college classes to prepare myself for the next stage of my life, and now, it feels like I'm a character in some seedy television series.Is this real? Am I dreaming right now?

The front door slams closed and latches behind me. I don't know what to do as I stand in the living room with my arms wrapped around myself. Raptor is watching me cautiously as ifhe's afraid to get too close. We need to talk, but I don't want an audience.Should I invite him to my room?

I wrestle with the answer as Raven tosses her things on the kitchen table. "I need to shower," she announces, heading to her room to grab clean clothes.

Reaper trails close behind her, stopping when she spins around, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't even think about it, asshole." She presses her index finger into his chest hard as she sneers at him.

He eyes her finger before meeting her gaze again, his face unamused. "Wait out here and have your little fantasy jerkfest or whatever, but take one step into that bathroom, and I'm turning you into a eunuch," she threatens, slamming the door in his face.

Reaper lets out a frustrated sigh as he posts up against the wall outside the bathroom, crossing his arms over his chest. Now is my chance. I need to take it.

Reaching my hand out to Raptor, I don a mask of confidence and mentally prepare myself for the talk we need to have. He takes my hand and lets me lead him to my bedroom. I shut the door behind us and lock it. Raptor sends a curious look my way as one of his thick eyebrows quirks.

I shrug. "I thought we could use some privacy. There's a lot we need to talk about."

He grimaces, and I note the worry lining his brow. I'm sure there are a million thoughts running through his mind right now, there certainly are in mine. Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, I sit on the edge of the bed, bracing myself for the conversation I need to start.

Raptor sits next to me, close enough that his thick thigh touches mine. The heat from his body has a calming effect on me, something I've never noticed before. Being near him makes everything that's happened a little less terrifying.

"So, Viper told you about the club?" he starts.

I nod. "He said you guys aren't just a group of guys who like bikes and turning wrenches. He told us that the club's side businesses aren't exactly . . . legal."

His eyes leave mine, finding a spot on the floor as he answers. "Yeah. That's true."

I swallow hard, afraid of the answer to my next question. "What do you do for the club?"

His head snaps up, and his jaw tightens. A minute passes before he answers quietly, "I keep the books for the club businesses. All the businesses." He sighs before continuing, "And when necessary, I run cluberrands. Sometimes involving fists and weapons."

I study him, noticing the anxiety and shame rolling off of him as the truth about his part in the MC comes out. His body is tight and trembling. The time we've spent together recently has given me a little insight into the man sitting next to me. He feels more deeply than he likes to show, he's loyal to a fault, and he hates disappointing those he cares about. If I'm reading him correctly, I'm one of those people.

The connection we've made in such a short time is both exciting and startling. If he feels half as much for me as I do for him, then my reaction to the news about the club will hold a lot of weight. If I back away from our relationship because of the club, it will hurt him more than he'd admit.

It would be wise to take a step back and evaluate the kind of future I want for myself. Getting involved with someone so dangerous puts me at risk. It's not the kind of future I ever envisioned for myself, but I can't stomach the thought of not being with him.

In the short time I've known him, I've seen the man that lives inside him, and he's seen me. I feel like we've known each other for a lifetime, and yes, that's crazy, but it's true. There's an invisible tether between us, one that won't easily disappear.Whenever I'm around him, that link calls out to me, beckoning me closer. It's not something I take lightly.

Call it foolish. Call it whatever you want, but I don't think I can walk away from him. No matter how dangerous he may be.

"I get it," he says softly, "if you can't handle that. If you don't want to be with me. I get it." His words tug at my heart as I take him in. He looks devastated.

My hand finds his, curling around it firmly, and his eyes find mine. They're so full of hope that I can hardly stand it. One word from me, ending this, and that hope would be extinguished. I'd be free to choose a different path for my future.

Or . . .

"I can handle it," I tell him.

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