Page 11 of Fanatic

“You’re just saying that,” I brushed the compliment off.

“Nope. Trust me. You’ve grown more gorgeous as you grew older.”

Embarrassed, I blushed and ducked my head. I’d never got used to compliments, and even from Grey, they’d make me uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

Fanatic chuckled, and I glowered.

The waitress approached, looking apprehensive, and Fanatic smiled. “It’s safe now. No inappropriate conversation. I apologise for my companion.”

“Fanatic!” I squealed, and Danny jumped in his seat and scowled.

“That’s such a cute baby!” the waitress said.

“He’s my Godson,” Fanatic stated proudly, and my heart melted.

Damn him. Right there and then, I accepted I’d be heading home with Fanatic. He was correct. Danny was missing out on too much.

The waitress eyed me, and I could see she was trying to work out our relationship. I couldn’t blame her. Fanatic was gorgeous and muscled. Plus, he had that English accent going for him and wore a cut. A cut belonging to a now-famous MC.

All those who’d defended Rapid City had become household names. People might not know member names, but they knew the clubs and the allies, such as Delta Force, the Juno Group, etc.

Her eyes widened as she read the patches saying Hellfire MC. Yeah, pair that with Fanatic himself, and he was droolworthy. Even as deadened as I was right now, I recognised his sexiness.

“Can we pay the bill, please?” Fanatic asked, handing her a credit card.

“Sure,” she answered and scurried away.

“Why are you single?” I demanded, putting my elbow on the table and leaning my head on my hand.

“Because my mother terrifies me with her quest for grandchildren,” Fanatic said lightly. That was probably partially the truth.

“No. Not so, Fanatic. You’ve dated women; you must have. But I’ve never seen you with anyone, nor did you ever bring anybody on dates with you,” I pushed.

“Babe, I got shot in twenty-twenty protecting Bunny, and then I was in the shootout at Magics. Afterwards, I was caught in an explosion and needed a liver transplant. I’m on anti-rejection drugs for the rest of my life. Next, the war happened. Willow, I ain’t gonna grow old with that track record, babe. It’s pointless having a relationship with somebody, only to have her watch me die after a few years.”

“Like Grey?”

“No! Grey wasn’t living with a possible liver rejection. I am. Constantly. Yeah, I’m stable and take my meds like a good boy, but with the shit around me… who the fuck knows? One bad punch, or a misfired bullet, could end my life, an accident, anything could happen. I’m more at risk because of my liver, babe.

“Look at Covid. Willow, I ended up locked in a room isolated from everyone because of my immune system beingweakened. Then there are the odds. I’ve a seventy-eight per cent survival rate after five years and sixty-five after ten years. Sure, medication is improving all the time. People can live up to twenty years plus, with a transplant. But that’s only a lucky tiny percentage who do,” Fanatic explained.

“You’ll live to old age,” I swore, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, because I won’t let you go, Fanatic. You and me against the world,” I promised.

“With Rosie and Calamity, Klutz and Aurora!” Fanatic said, and guilt swept over me.

The seven of us had been so close. And I’d cut them out like everyone else. Mainly because of my uncharitable thoughts towards Calamity. He’d been at death’s door like Grey. Yet he’d survived. Obviously, I didn’t begrudge Calamity that, and I’d never want Rosie to suffer. But Calamity was alive, and his injury had been as bad as Grey’s.

The last time I’d seen him, Calamity had a damn awful scar on his throat. The bullet had torn through his neck and ripped the carotid artery. Texas, his father-in-law, had accompanied Calamity in an air ambulance, holding a clamp in place to stop Calamity bleeding out. It was a miracle he’d survived.

“They understand,” Fanatic said softly.

“Do they? How? Because I don’t. How the hell could I hate the fact Calamity’s alive when Grey’s dead? What kind of person am I?”