Page 40 of Griz's Edge

“Hate to have to ask this again, Marley, but do you know anyone who would want to hurt you?” Adams asks, pen hovering over his notepad.

For the past hour, he and Detective Ratford have patiently spoken to Marley while she nibbled on the fries and her dinner sent by Deloris. I swear my aunt must love Marley because she also sent over her chocolate pecan pie. The whole thing. She only makes them every once in a while. It’s a rarity at the diner.

Sniper informed us all when we’d seen the pie that Deloris said if anyone touched the dessert before Marley got a slice, she’d cut us all off from eating at the diner for a month.Rain actually took the pie and put it away, labeling it Marley’s.

“I don’t.”

It’s the same answer she’s said already. She’d given them the list of names she visited that day serving papers but said nothing about her house being broken into just days ago.

I’m glad she did, and at the same time, surprised she didn’t. The club needs to handle this. Whether she realizes it or not,she’s one of ours. She’s my woman. Mine. I’m not about to let this slide. My brothers won’t let it slide.

“If you think of anything, you’ve got our number,” Detective Ratford says, sliding a card toward her. “We’ll leave you to rest up. Hope you feel better soon.”

“I’ll be back at work tomorrow,” Marley states.

Both Adams and Ratford look at her like she’s grown two heads right alongside a few of my brothers.

“I’m sure you need to take a few days to heal up,” Adams remarks.

“No, I’m good. I’ll borrow my grandma’s car until I can figure out what to do about replacing mine, but I’m not going to let this stop me from going to work.”

I dip my head down and lift a hand at the same to pinch the bridge of my nose. Marley and that will of fucking steel. In the span of the time I’ve known her, no matter how short the time may be, I’ve learned she’s damn stubborn as hell.

I’m gonna have to have a talk with her about that. She’s not going to work tomorrow. Not if I can help it. The woman needs to take a day to let her back heal up. Fuck, seeing all the road rash covering her back had me wanting to commit murder. When I find the person responsible for hurting her, they’re gonna wish for death before they’re granted it.

“Right then.” Detective Ratford grunts, nods curtly, and leaves.

Adams sticks back and waits for Ratford to leave before turning to us. “Don’t know what you’re planning to do, know that you consider this club business, but what you gotta get is Marley might only be a process server, she’s helped us several times since moving here, and us at the station consider her one ofourown.”

“Don’t worry, Adams, we’ll keep you in the loop,” Blow states. He’d come in halfway through the interview and lookedgrim as he reported we were gonna have to wait until the car cooled down more before we could get a look at it.

Nodding, Adams straightens his sports jacket. “Forensic team will be out in the morning to go over the car.”

“Prospects guarding it tonight to make sure nothing happens to it.”

I figured Blow would do that. He’s not taking any chances. With all the bullshit the club’s already dealt with, we’ve all learned from the mistakes.

“Right, I’ll check in later,” Adams mutters, looking toward Marley just as she shoves a couple fries in her mouth. Her eyes widen as she takes in those of us watching her. “Check you later, Marley.”

“Same,” she mutters, mouth full of food, head nodding, and a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Smirking, I can’t help but shake my head. She’s fucking cute right now. Never in my life have I thought about a woman eating food as cute. I hadn’t thought about it all. We all eat, but the way Marley does it is something else. Hell, watching her eat turns me on. Then again, anything she does, causes me to get hard. Just the thought of her has my cock stiffening.

Adams leaves, and I join Marley at the table.

“You good?” I watch her closely as I ask.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs and pops another cheese-covered fry in her mouth.

“You didn’t tell them about your house being broken into,” I note.

“I know I didn’t. They don’t need to know that,” she remarks with a shrug. “I don’t need them making it a big deal.”

“Why?” I have a feeling I know the answer without her telling me.

“Because I’ll find the person who did it before they do,” she says, holding my gaze, eyes full of determination.

“I see you’ve gotten over your fear.” I reach for one of her fries, and I’m not surprised she narrows her gaze to shoot a glare at me, but she doesn’t stop me from getting one.

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