Page 144 of Beautifully Wounded

I shrug, knowing I am, but not fucking caring.

“Fucking hell, either I’m going soft, or I really fucking like you,” Smitty grumbles before turning around.

“Hey Charity Case. Get over here.”

She doesn’t even flinch at the words, but hesitates, her eyes going wide.

She probably thinks she’s about to get yelled at or something, so when her eyes land on me, I gesture my head backwards, silently asking her to come to me.

My clubbrothers part, waiting for her to move, and after another moment’s hesitation, she does, shifting away from Jols and Nessy, and stepping through the men.

Smitty steps aside as well, and I don’t know if it’s to make her feel safe, because it’s obvious she doesn’t with the way she wraps her arms over her chest as she moves, or if he’s just being respectful and giving us some privacy.

“Get over here,” I demand as she takes her time, and like always, she does what I ask, moving faster until she’s standing before me.

“I don’t want this to happen,” she whispers, those glassy eyes nearly spilling over.

“It’s okay, Angel.” I take a step closer, fucking annoyed I didn’t do this before they fucking tied my hands behind my back. “I know this is hard to understand. We live by our own set of rules in the club. We live differently from mainstream society. But it doesn’t mean what’s about to happen is wrong. This is the way we do things here, and I will take what’s coming to me because I broke the rules.”

“But it’s because of me,” she whisper-yells, stepping up to me and fisting my shirt.

“I don’t blame you, Angel. You need to know I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it means keeping you safe.”

A tear pops free then, so I lean down, pressing my lips to her ear.

“I need you to stay strong for me. No matter how awful it seems, nothing will be worse than knowing you’re in distress.”

As I shift back, I drag my lips across her cheek, and by the time I’m nose to nose with her, those dainty hands grip either side ofmy jaw before she rises higher on her toes and presses her lips to mine.

Hoots and cheers ring out in the air around us, but we both ignore it, trapped in our little bubble as she kisses me with a level of confidence and determination I haven’t seen or felt from her before.

“Alright, that’s enough. I don’t want to get a fucking woody right when I need to swing fists.” Smitty chuckles, gripping Abbey’s upper arm and dragging her back.

“Let go of her!” I yell, louder than I expected, as red frames my vision at the sight of him gripping her arm.

“Whoa,” Smitty laughs, dropping his hold on Abbey and raising his hands in surrender. “Calm down, brother. I wasn’t hurting her.”

“You fucking touched what’s mine. You’d best not do it again.”

Smitty’s smile drops as he glares at me, calling over his shoulder to his stepdaughter while keeping his eyes trained on me.

“Jols, take the girl.”

“Wait,” Abbey protests, shoving past Smitty and gripping the front of my shirt again as she drags me back down, her caramel eyes wild and frantic. “I’ll be strong. Just for you.”

Then she presses her lips to mine again for a quick kiss before pulling back, releasing my shirt, and walking away with Jols.

Damn it, now I have a semi.

I’m too busy watching my charity case walk away to notice Smitty’s fist coming my way, the crack loud, the hit making me see stars momentarily as I nearly topple to the ground.

Staggering into some of the nearby men, I hear Abbey cry out in protest before Trunk’s voice is in my ear.

“Shake it off. It looks like Prez has more to dish out.”

I nod, blinking profusely to clear my fucking vision, before turning to face our leader.

“Thanks for the fucking heads up.”

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