Page 117 of Mensa's Match

“Who’s ‘we’?” Dad asked.

“What do you mean?” Mensa asked.

“You said, ‘the earliest we could have someone watching her was twelve o’clock,’ I’d like to know who ‘we’ is.”

A sideways smile twisted Mensa’s lips, and it drew my attention to his sexy beard. “‘We’ is the Riot MC brotherhood. They know that even though I haven’t put a cut on her, I’ve claimed her. And that means, every one of my brothers will sacrifice themselves for her.”

I scoffed. “That’s crazy. The police are the—”

Mensa whipped his gaze back to me. “The police keep the order out there, but the lawyers and judges – hell, my uncle was a prime example – they fuck up the order using the law, of all things. There are cracks in the system and my Riot family doesn’t fall through those cracks,becausewe protect what’s ours.”

Dad sighed and stepped forward. “Your mother and I will be back later.”

“When he’s not here, isn’t that what you mean?” Aunt Nadia asked.

“Nadia,” Dad started.

“Oh, no, Bill. Don’t you ‘Nadia’ me. She’s asked you twice to open your mind to her man. It’s the least you can do, and the best way to do that is to stick around. Not run away because you don’t like what he’s saying.”

After a long, slow blink, Dad looked at Aunt Nadia. “I also need to cool down.”

Mom leaned closer to me. “Well, I’m staying, so you can bring me an iced coffee when you’ve cooled off.”

“Margo—” Dad started.

“No. I’m going to chat with Whitney and her friend.”

Dad shook his head. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll walk with you, Bill,” Aunt Nadia said.

“Your brothers sound very protective,” Mom said.

Mensa moved off the bed and sat in the seat on my left. “We are. None of us likes when women are threatened.”

“How long are you and Dad in town?” I asked.

“Your Dad’s heading back in a few days. My ticket is open-ended, since I have no idea how much help you’re going to need.”

I nodded. “That’s a good point. I don’t want to cause problems for Aunt Nadia.”

Mensa cleared his throat, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “Whit, you won’t need her help.”

I widened my eyes at him. “I’m not going to be able to shower or get dressed on my own for a while.”

He tilted his gaze down to his boots, then raised his head. “I know, woman. You won’t needherhelp.”

“Why not?” I asked.

He cocked his head to the side. “Did they give you drugs recently?I’llbe around to help you.”

Mom crossed her legs. “That seems like an imposition. Especially since I can stick around for her.”

“It isn’t an imposition, Mrs. Blume. This is serious, and I’m not leaving her side when she gets released.”

“You sound rather dedicated to her,” Mom said.

“I am.”

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