Page 26 of The Oath We Take

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Quite possibly. But my job is to keep you out of the way of those Russian bastards so that you’re alive to call me an asshole for many years to come.”

“I don’t intend to pay them; they can kiss the business end of my Beretta. And I am not, nor ever have been,yourjob. Stick to what you clearly love: being an enforcer for your club. Worry about keeping them alive. Not me.”

He points up the stairs. “Let’s go.”

I feel his eyes on me as I take each step. I’m glad I’m wearing a sundress, and I don’t even care if he gets a glimpse of more than he bargained for. I have quite the panty collection, and I’m proud of them. These are lemon with little crisscross cutouts at the side.

And if I’m suffering in his presence, why shouldn’t he suffer a little in mine?

I have a fleeting thought about Rocco. At some point, I will have to truly reconcile the one who got away—Atom—and making a new relationship with someone else. But right now, I feel like I’m in that early stage of dating where a decision doesn’t yet need to be made.

Is it unfair that he’s in a fight for my affection with Atom and doesn’t know? Probably.

Rocco and I didn’t sleep together. Well, I mean, we did in as much as we were both in my bed. He was worried I might have a concussion from being knocked down. And the kick to his ribs was so painful, he could do little more than lie there, but he wanted to be able to check on me. This morning, he had to leave because he had a meeting at lunchtime.

I suggested taking him to the hospital in the next town over to get an X-ray, but he assured me he didn’t feel like anything was broken, just bruised.

When I get to the top of the stairs, there is a small landing. On it is a shoe rack and a couple of coat hooks. I punch in the code to open the apartment door, then kick off my boots in the small entryway.

“No cuts in my home,” I say. “There’s a hook on the outside of the door that I make Dad hang his on.”

Atom’s eyes widen. “What?”

I tip my head toward the hook. “Your cut. You need to hang it up.”

“You’re serious? Even up here?”

“It’s my mistake. You shouldn’t have even worn it to come through the bar, but I was still in shock at finding you on my doorstep.”

He shakes his head but, thankfully, does as I ask. “One day, you’ll have to explain this huge aversion you have to the club being anywhere on your property.”

“Because if I didn’t, this would surely become a biker bar, and the locals would stop coming. It would start with cuts, then incidental security that becomes permanent security. The next thing you know, I’d end up washing cash for you and on some FBI list as an accessory to your shit. That’s the life you chose, not the one I did.”

Once he steps into the entry, I look down at his weathered cowboy boots.

“The fucking boots too?” he asks.

I simply fold my arms and raise an eyebrow.

“Jesus. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have grabbed the old socks with a hole in the toe when I packed for Sturgis. Socks aren’t the whitest anymore either. Probably should clean with bleach or buy some new ones or some shit.”

It’s a funny admission, ever so slightly out of character for Atom. Sure enough, there is a hole with his big toe peeking through it. It’s weirdly endearing.

“There are many things you’ve done and said over the years that I could judge you for, but a hole in your sock isn’t one of them. My laptop is on the breakfast bar.”

“You created a nice place,” he says. And I remember he hasn’t ever set foot up here before. If he’s ever had to drop me home for any reason, he’s always watched from his bike until I was inside. I look around, seeing it through his eyes.

The kitchen is spotless with two tan leather stools neatly tucked in at the breakfast bar. The gray sofa looks as soft and comfortable as it feels with stacks of pink and white cushions. And then there’s a view out toward the mountains.

The view that stole my breath away when I first walked into the upper level of the clothing store it used to be and decided I had to see that view from here every day of my life.

“Thank you. One of the nicest things about this place is the sunset. Every evening, the sun goes down, throwing shades of purple and orange around my living room, and it’s a thing of beauty. I can hear the steady beat of music from the bar below. It doesn’t irritate me. I paid good money for sound insulation between the two floors, and the apartment is mostly above the quieter kitchen. Plus, it’s the reassuring sound that the bar is busy and I’m making money.”

“You’ve done good with the place, Ember.”

I smile at that. “Yes. I have. Not everyone wants live music. Sometimes a small town doesn’t have the interest to support so many events. But this worked out so well. I got a business, employment, a home, and a way to put my business degree to good use, all in one place.” I turn to face him. “It’s the perfect trifecta. Or whatever the word is for more than three things at once.”

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