Page 4 of Butcher's Honor

I imagine them in there, talking and eating… Does he cook? The thought of those massive, scarred hands carefully preparing food makes me smile.

Stop it, I scold myself. You just got rid of one man. The last thing you need is to start daydreaming about another.

But I can't help but remember how he looked, filling my doorway like an avenging angel. The gray at his temples and the lines around his eyes only made him more imposing, more solid. His voice, low and gravelly, had sent shivers down my spine—not from fear, but from something else entirely.

"Mommy, the water's boiling over!"

I jump, rushing to turn down the heat. "Sorry, baby. Mommy was distracted."

"Were you thinking about the superhero man?"

Heat floods my cheeks. "He's not a superhero, remember? He said so himself."

Tommy shrugs, climbing onto a kitchen chair. "He looks like one. And he made the bad man go away."

I drain the pasta, trying to focus on the simple task rather than the memory of Joey's hands around Derek's throat. Violence shouldn't be attractive. I know this. I've seen enough of it in my life to know better. But there was something different about Joey's controlled fury, about the way he used his strength to protect rather than harm.

After dinner, I tuck Tommy into bed in our tiny second bedroom. His stuffed dinosaur collection, the only toys I madesure to pack when we fled Oregon, stands guard around his pillow.

"Will you check under the bed?" he whispers.

My heart breaks a little. He hadn't asked for that in months, not until Derek showed up. "Of course, baby."

I make a show of checking under the bed, in the closet, behind the curtains. "All clear. No monsters here."

"What about the bad man?"

I sit on the edge of his bed, stroking his dark hair.

"The bad man is gone, Tommy. And if he ever tries to come back, Mr. Joey will protect us."

"Promise?"

"Promise." I kiss his forehead. "Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll make those cookies, remember?"

Once he's asleep, I retreat to the living room with my laptop. I should work on the website design I'm supposed to deliver next week, but instead I find myself standing at the window, looking out at the quiet street.

A motorcycle rumbles to life next door. I peek through the curtains, watching Joey mount his Harley. The streetlight catches on his silver hair, on the leather of his vest. He pauses, head turning toward my house, and for a moment I think he can see me watching him.

Then he kicks the bike into gear and roars off into the night, leaving only the lingering rumble of his exhaust and the rapid beating of my heart.

I press my forehead against the cool glass. This is crazy. I'm barely out of one bad situation—I can't afford to get caught up in fantasies about a dangerous man, no matter how kind he wastoday. Tommy has to be my priority. Our safety, our stability, our fresh start.

But as I finally settle down to work, I can't help remembering the gentle way Joey spoke to Tommy, so at odds with his intimidating appearance. The careful way he wrote down his phone number, making sure the digits were clear. The respect in his voice when he talked to me, like I was someone worth protecting.

My phone sits on the coffee table, his number already programmed in. Just in case, I tell myself. Just for emergencies.

But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself. Deep down, I'm already wondering what his voice sounds like when he laughs, what his hands would feel like when they're not dealing out justice.

Deep down, I'm already in trouble.

Chapter 3 - Butcher

The night air whips against my face as I ride toward the clubhouse, but I can't shake the image of dark waves and frightened eyes from my mind. Focus, I tell myself. Club business needs a clear head, not thoughts about pretty neighbors and their kids.

The familiar neon sign of the bar comes into view—our legitimate business front and clubhouse. A row of bikes already lines the parking lot, chrome gleaming under the streetlights.

This isn't a social call, not after what happened to young Mickey two days ago—clearly payback for exposing their trafficking ring.

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