Page 76 of What Lies Within

Her chin crumples.

"Because I fuckin' love you—all of you. Don't ask me why," I say. "I just know that I feel it in here." I slam a fist to my heart. "And that feelin' doesn't go away, even when you're sad. Even when the light leaves your eyes. It fuckin' grows, Rae. It gets stronger because that's when I know you need me most."

Her hand lifts to my face, and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "You're a beautiful soul, Digger. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

I shrug. “Honestly can’t recall.”

Rae’s palm slides to my neck. “Well, you are. And I’m so fucking grateful I met you.”

"Ain't no gettin' rid of me now," I tease with a slight laugh.

Her brow pulls into a soft frown. "Don't brush it off, babe. Be proud of who you are because I know that for a lot of people, you mean so much. For me, you mean the world."

Goddamnit.I didnotsee this moment coming. Otherwise, I may have made sure we had it somewhere more private than the fucking archway through to the back hall.Fuck it all.She wears my name; what else do these fuckers pretending they notice jack shit need for me to prove it's true?

I lean down and capture Rae’s mouth, soft and sweet, just like she is for me.

I don’t give a fuck if life dealt her a shit hand. She has a right to be sad. She has a right to feel what she does.

She was abused, neglected, and forced to accept that her family didn’t love her enough to make her the priority. Alone and beaten down, she made her way here to Red River, and the fucking cycle repeated all over again. And yeah, maybe it could be argued that her choices got her there, but shit, when she pulls my bottom lip between hers and lets it go to dot a kiss on the tip of my nose, I can’t help but be thankful for that shit, because if she didn’t live it then maybe fate never would have brought her to me.

Maybe we never would have met.

And maybethatlife would be the worse one to live.

30

RAE

I fist the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt tight, burying my fingernails into the thick fabric, and focus on the gentle hum of voices as a dozen or so members go about their business in the common area while they wait on their president and remaining officers to get back. Digger chats with Turnip beside me, his warm body a comfort against my side. His fingers idly play with the lengths of my hair, arm stretched across the back of the seat behind me. I lean into his touch, legs tucked on the seat, and close my eyes.

I can't shake the feeling that everything will come to a head tonight, that when the sun comes up, the future will be a little clearer, our road more defined.

The men meet tonight to discuss how to end this shit with Terry. How to remove his influence over Red River and the surrounding areas.

I'm a fool if I believe closure won't come without a healthy dose of bloodshed.

Whether from Terry or the Reapers, too, is yet to be shown.

My throat bulges as I swallow my apprehension and then open my eyes.Fuck this shit.I’ve entertained the idea long enough. Mulled over it as I drifted off behind Maddie.

I’m done with everything happeningaroundme, yet because of me.

I want to solve my problems myself. I want to take back control.

From the people who’ve hurt me. From the people who feel obligated to me.

This is my mess, and I'll clean it up the best way I know—with the only weapon in my arsenal: my words.

"Jackson will go ahead," Turnip states, referring to the rally the men are due to ride out to in two days. "It needs to. Tyke’s got to have a presence if he expects clubs to heed our call to arms.”

“I get that,” Digger argues. “But this shit only affects the Devil’s Enforcers and, hell, maybe the Fallen Aces. Askin’ anyone else to raise arms is askin’ them to invite trouble into their home. We can’t do that. Not yet, anyway."

"He can," Turnip stresses, loud enough to garner Rigs' attention on the opposite side of the fire. "And he will. Maybe these clubs have no beef with Terry right now, but they do it to help a sister club on the understandin' that when they need the favor returned, we'll be there to pay in kind."

“I guess.” Digger raises his eyebrows, tipping his chin to one side. “But we’ve gotta have a Plan B in case they all choose to take care of their own first.”

“You think that’d happen?” Rigs steps before the two men, hands hooked in the front pockets of his jeans.

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