Page 121 of Ruger's Rage

Porter hovers nearby, attentive to her every movement. "She's pushing too hard," he complains, though the pride in his voice is unmistakable. "Trying to get back to work at the garage already."

"Someone's gotta keep your books straight," Sarah teases, patting his hand. "You'd be lost without me."

The way they are is so beautiful, such a beautiful couple really.

It's what I have with Ruger now—that certainty of being loved, being valued.

The door opens, bringing a blast of cool air and Kinsey, looking very much the college student in jeans and a West Virginia University sweatshirt.

"Sorry I'm late," she calls, shutting the door behind her. "Professor wouldn't stop talking."

Several brothers greet her with nods of respect.

She's earned a place here, though she doesn't actually live at the club.

Viper arranged an off-campus apartment for her, close enough to both the university and the club to be convenient.

I watch as she makes her way through the crowd, stopping to wish Sadie Jo a happy birthday before scanning the room.

Her eyes land on Rookie, who's nursing a beer in the corner.

Even from here, I can see her shoulders straighten before she approaches him.

I don't mean to eavesdrop, but they're close enough that their voices carry to where I'm sitting.

"Hey," she says, awkwardly shifting her weight. "How've you been?"

Rookie's expression remains neutral. "Fine. You?"

"Good. Classes are tough, but I'm managing."

A painful silence stretches between them.

"Rookie, I was thinking maybe we could?—"

"Don't." He cuts her off, voice low but firm. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I made a mistake," she pleads. "I didn't know what Striker was planning. I never wanted anyone to get hurt."

His laugh is bitter, lacking any humor. "You used me. For months."

"At first, yes," she admits. "But it changed.Ichanged."

"Doesn't fuckin’ matter." He drains his beer, setting the bottle down with a sharp click. "I'll never be able to trust you again. What we had is over."

Kinsey's face falls, pain flashing in her eyes before she masters it.

"I understand," she says quietly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

She walks away, head high even though I know her heart is breaking.

I feel a surge of sympathy for her, knowing what it's like to make terrible choices for what seemed like good reasons at the time.

Ruger appears at my side, hand sliding to the back of my neck in that possessive way that still sends shivers down my spine.

"Saw that little scene," he murmurs. "You look ready to intervene."

"She's trying," I say, watching Kinsey join a group of prospects at another table. "She killed her own father for us. Isn't that enough to earn a second chance?"

---