Page 91 of What Lies Within

My back collides with the wall beside my bedroom door, Tyke’s fingers combing through my hair to push it free of my face, my legs wrapped tight around his waist.

“Fuck that asshole, baby girl. Don’t care if he’s my blood. Seein’ him touch you like that…”

"I'm okay." I lean in and gently kiss his bearded jaw. "Just breathe, Tyke."

He sighs, forehead falling to my shoulder. “It’s been a day, Rae.”

“That it has.” I knead the knots in his shoulders, fingers massaging their way up to the strong column of his neck. “But we’re alive. And we’re okay.”

The mantra I tell myself every goddamn month when the anxiety and fear grip me by the throat.

"What's Digger going to do?" He left the room when Tyke helped me to my feet, exchanging a look with his brother that spoke volumes to the Reaper president but was undecipherable to me.

Other than the definite promise of violence.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about.”

I turn my head and glance at the wall to my right. A handful of rooms separate us from Tyke’s son. Mere feet between us and Kane’s penance with his uncle.

I’m tired of being the reason families fight. Tired of being the thorn in everyone’s side.

“Hey.” Firm fingers find my jaw, and I allow Tyke to turn my face back to his. He searches my gaze with thinly veiled concern. “Don’t go there.”

“Where?”

"Wherever you were just now, that wasn't with me." He nods slightly, peering at me from under a stern brow. "Eyes on me, yeah?"

“Okay.” I lift my hand and trace the firm lines of his face: along his cheekbone, down his jaw, across his brow.

His eyes hood, a sigh sweeping between us as he relaxes at my touch.

“You’re amazing,” I whisper. “You know that?”

He drops a huffed laugh. “Hardly.”

“You don’t believe it?” I press my head hard against the wall to read him better. “Tyke…”

"We can talk about it later." I'm swept from the restriction at my back as he turns us and heads for the bed. "Right now? I need to feel you, baby girl." He bends, abs tight, as he lowers me to the mattress. "I need to know that this is real. That you're here and you're all in one piece." Tyke leans over me; one strong arm braced beside my head. "That you're still with me."

I take a moment to drink him in, in all his rugged masculine glory, before I whisper, "I'm still with you, Tyke."

Not many other places I’d rather be.

His mouth curls, a boyish grin tickling his lips before he drops his head and steals my mouth in a punishing kiss. His contact is borderline brutal, as though he needs to fucking devour me to convince himself that they didn’t win.

That I’m here—in his club, in his arms, and not planning to run.

Hands against his head, I thread my fingers through his dark locks and hold him to me as I push into the connection.

It floors me, realizing Idon’twant to go anywhere. After all the shit that's gone down the past twenty-four hours, none of it swayed me. I had my doubts. I allowed my fear to take stock of the situation and plant its spiny needles into my brain, but fuck it all; I came out the other side surer of one thing than I’ve ever been in my goddamn life.

That I’m loved. Truly loved.

As I am and as all I will ever be.

I urge Tyke back, tip his head, and press my forehead to his. "I need you to know something before we do this."

“Tell me.” The words are growled low in his throat.

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