Page 13 of Shadow's Edge

“We both get them. So, after a mission, we stay in the same room to help each other.”

His face immediately softened, and he started walking toward me again. “I’m sorry, baby.”

It went against everything I believed to be affected by that one word, yet it managed to crack the concrete surrounding my heart. The guys treated me like one of their own, and unless someone was hitting on me, I rarely received that kind of attention. With Jagger, I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed it.

Shrugging, I went back to getting dressed, very aware of the hazel eyes watching every movement. “It happens to everyone.”

I’d just pulled the tank over my head when arms went around me from behind. Ever since the kiss earlier, I had moments of wondering what was going on with him, mixed with questions about whether I could trust him. I still wasn’t sure, but I tended to go with my gut, which didn’t usually steer me wrong. With this guy, it was telling me that I could trust him, but I would still proceed with caution until I was sure.

“What are they about?” He spoke softly into my neck, causing goosebumps on my arms.

“Shit that happens when we’re away, victims that we’ve failed,” I explained, making it as vague as I could. I wouldn’t tell him that I also had nightmares about the things that my mom had done to me and the moment that I’d found her after she... No, I didn’t think about that.

I felt his chin rest on my shoulder and the slow movement as he nodded. “When did you get this?” His hand swept down the phoenix tattoo on my side that I’d gotten after my first assignment as a ghost. It was on the opposite side of my injured ribs, which were screaming again after today, and represented the moment I’d become Kai and not the girl that I’d been before it—weak little Kyle.

“Just after I joined Indigo and became a Ghost.”

The tattoo started at the top of my thigh and twisted around my back, where the tail feathers transformed into waves. It covered the entirety of my back and was done by a friend of Hammer’s. I’d laid on that table for five hours while he worked to shade and create a masterpiece I admired daily. The tattoo helped groundme and also kept my defenses up. I wasn’t the same girl I had been before, she was long gone.

Additionally, I designed a piece during one of my military assignments, which I then had blown up to cover the center of my stomach. That tattoo was hidden for now as I held my hand firmly over the front of my tank top.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

Turning around to face him, I tried to keep my face blank. “What are you doing here?”

Throughout my childhood and at work, I’d been surrounded by confident men who never balked at a question or showed embarrassment. It was just how it was. Now, watching Jagger try and answer this, something which would have struck me as almost weak if it'd been one of the Ghosts, seemed endearing as he opened and closed his mouth several times and rubbed the back of his neck.

Sighing, he tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling before looking back down at me. “I’ve grown up in this world. You know who my dad is?” It was a rhetorical question, everyone knew his dad. “I was an asshole until your dad took me on and helped me work my way to where I am today.” The implication that Preacher could be a motivational and helpful guy had me stiffening slightly, something which Jagger seemed to understand based on the sympathetic look that crossed his face. “Not once have I come across something special, Kyle, but in the last couple of days, I think I have. You.”

I was used to the typical bullshit that guys spewed when they wanted something, but for a guy in his position, he wouldn’t have to spin those tales normally. I didn’t engage inrelationships because I had witnessed the pain and turmoil they could bring. I wasn’t jaded, nor was I naïve enough to believe that all relationships were like that. I simply wasn’t willing to take the risk. As I watched Jagger closely, contemplating his next words, I observed the body language cues I had learned and relied on in my job. Unless he was a Hollywood actor, none of his signals suggested that he was being deceitful.

“Look, I like you, and I think you like me too.” He stood there, watching me for a sign that he was right. I gave him a brief nod and watched his shoulders visibly relax. “Can we…” he trailed off, reaching up to grab a handful of his hair as he struggled to find the words. I could have shown him some compassion, but I had never been in this situation before, and it didn’t seem like he had either. Then again, I was still exhausted, and the weight of the case we were working on and my concerns about Perry were heavy on my mind.

“Okay,” he obviously hadn’t expected me to say anything because he jumped slightly. This strong biker who took no shit in any area of his life was making himself genuinely vulnerable for me. I couldn’t let him tear himself up trying to explain it anymore.

His relief was palpable as he let out a breath, stepped toward me, and pulled me into a strong hug. I wasn’t a tactile person, and the team wasn’t either, so it took me a second to relax into it. The second I did, though, he softened as well.

Reflecting on my childhood, I realize that the only person who ever truly hugged me was Preacher, along with a few of the guys. My mother was abusive, a painful reality I tried to avoid reliving, especially after discovering her after she committed suicide. Her letter provided some context for her struggles with abuse andalcohol, but it did not excuse her actions. I could never condone what she’d done.

Shaking myself out of those thoughts, I pulled back from Jagger. "I need to sleep."

He nodded, but what shocked the hell out of me was the soft kiss he pressed against my forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it made something tighten deep in my chest.

"We have a busy day tomorrow, and you need to be ready to work your magic." The side of his mouth quirked up in a small, almost sweet smile that contrasted with the hardened edges of him. "Can I stay here tonight? Just to sleep," he added quickly, noticing the shift in my expression.

"I don’t know if that’s safe," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. I wasn’t worried about him—I was worried aboutme. If he knew just how deep my damage ran, would he still look at me the same way?

I wasn’t oblivious. I knew Jagger and the rest of the MC had likely pieced together parts of my past. Specifically, my childhood and the things I had endured. Hell, if I heard similar things about one of my teammates, I’d recognize the scars they carried. But that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg when it came to my issues. No one came out of my line of work unscathed. The sad reality was, no military personnel did.

“I swear, I just want to build this,” he said, gesturing between us. “I’ve never had anything like this before, and I want to do it right.”

I swallowed hard. I appreciated what he was saying, really, but fuck, I was going to have to tell him.

“I get— I have problems when I sleep.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “How do you mean?”

Walking over to the bed, I sat on the edge, staring at the floor. I didn’tdothis. My team already knew, they didn’t need explanations and never had. Unless it affected my ability to do my job, I never had to explain myself to anyone. This was so fucking hard.

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