Page 116 of Manic

I promised her I'd be more careful, that I'd always come home to her.

And here I am, bleeding all over the clubhouse floor.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek with my good hand. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or Tindra."

Meghan leans into my touch for a moment before pulling back, her expression hardening. "We're not done talking about this," she warns, but there's a tremor in her voice that betrays her fear.

As Vail starts to examine my wound, I can't help but wonder how many more close calls we can handle before our luck runs out.

And what it might cost us in the end.

Vail's gentle hands probe the wound, her touch clinical and efficient. "Fern, hold his hand up for me, will you?" she asks, her eyes never leaving my arm. Fern complies, lifting my hand above my head.

I grit my teeth against the sharp sting as Vail cleans the area.

The antiseptic's bite is almost worse than the bullet's. Almost.

"Range of motion looks good," Vail mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She glances up at me, a wry smile on her face. "You're in luck, Tor. It's a clean through-and-through. Flesh wound only."

"See?" I say, forcing a grin despite the pain. "Not a big deal. Told you it was nothing to worry about."

Meghan's eyes flash dangerously. "I want to know what the fuck happened. No bullshit answer either." she snaps, her voice low and tight with barely contained emotion.

I sigh, knowing I can't dodge this conversation. "We were out on a run," I begin, trying to keep my tone casual. "Things got a little heated, and there was a shootout. I caught a stray, but it's fine. Really."

Meghan's face contorts, a mix of anger and fear that twists my insides. "You were lucky is what you were," she hisses, her hands clenching at her sides.

I can see she's fighting the urge to either hit me or hug me—maybe both.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Tindra.

She's pale, her eyes wide with worry. "Dad," she says, her voice small, "does this happen every time?"

Guilt crashes over me like a wave.

I never wanted her to see this side of club life, to worry about whether her old man was coming home in one piece.

"No, baby," I say softly, trying to infuse my voice with a confidence I don't entirely feel. "This was a one-time thing, I promise. Nothing like this will ever happen again."

The words taste like ash in my mouth even as I say them.

I know better than to make promises I can't keep in this life, but seeing the fear in my daughter's eyes, I can't help myself.

Tindra's shoulders slump in relief, and I hate myself a little for the lie.

"Okay," she breathes, a tentative smile crossing her face.

Just then, Rev calls out from across the room. "Hey, Tindra! Come check this out!"

As Tindra moves away, I catch Meghan's eye.

I think she might fucking kill me.

The worry lines etched across her forehead soften as she leans in, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that's equal parts relief and desperation. I can taste the lingering flavor of coffee on her lips, a reminder of her shift at Beans & Babes.

When she pulls back, her hands frame my face, her fingers trembling slightly against my skin.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice husky with emotion. "And I'm glad you're okay, but..." Her eyes harden, a flash of steel in those green depths. "Don't you dare make promises to our daughter that you can't keep."

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