Page 30 of Queen of Blades

“Again.” The timbre of his voice dropped, and it was clear he hadn’t forgiven her for the minor incident twelve years ago. She may not have pulled the trigger, but it was obvious why Paul had a bullet in his shoulder.

Harper fought the urge to take another step back from him. She couldn’t help it. Instead, she looked away. Long-forgotten guilt unfurled in her gut. It wasn’t her proudest moment. If she could take it back, she would, but the past didn’t work that way. Saying it would be pointless.

When his fingers gripped her chin, she startled.

He dragged her attention back to him, and he stared directly into her eyes with abject hate. Were she any other person, she probably would’ve cowered, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, no matter how remorseful she was for the past.

“Don’t get my brother killed.”

“I don’t plan on it.” To be fair, none of this was her idea. How could he hold her responsible?

“I’m not as nice as he is.”

16

Paul

Withhisfingersinhis hair, Paul gripped the tips and yanked as he let out a thunderous roar in the backyard of the safe house. Everything was a mess. Normally, every move he made was calculated, well thought out, planned to a goddamn T—but then Harper happened.

Fucking Harper.

It got him shot last time, and now… who the hell knew.

She was his dangerous addiction. Every taste he got of her, it wasn’t enough. He had to have more. No matter the consequences. He’d never be satisfied. All rational thought left his mind in her presence. The only thing that mattered was having her.

He’d thrust his family into an unnecessary war because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Blowing out a heavy breath, he ran his fingers along his forehead to work out the headache booming in his skull. He paced back and forth while considering what he’d do next.

Paul had to kill her. It’s what he’d said he’d do. He wasn’t the type to go back on his word, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly harm the knife-wielding beauty. She had a grip on his soul and wouldn’t let go.

He wasn’t sure he wanted her to.

They were never officially a couple. Even their little tryst only lasted a few weeks. That was all it took for her to take up residency in his brain for years. Every person he’d been with since, he compared to her—and they never measured up.

None of them were as smart, sassy, witty, or as beautiful as Harper Myers—the tattooed lawyer daughter of the biker president who wanted nothing more than to distance herself from criminals. She left Oklahoma to live a legitimate life.

He couldn’t blame her. Being part of a syndicate, whether they dressed in expensive couture or leather, wasn’t for the faint of heart. Not everyone was cut out for it.

She is.

He dismissed the thought.

It was a useless inkling. Whether or not she could endure the highs and lows, the dangers and the rewards of a life on the wrong side of the law was inconsequential because she’d made averyconscious choice to reject it. She’d not only left the town but the state, moving hundreds of miles away to escape it. As far as he could tell, she’d lived a very successful and happy life.

Unfortunately, men like him weren’t fond of rejection. They didn’t like to hear no when they really wanted something. The wrong side of the tracks wanted Harper. It came back with a vengeance and said if it couldn’t have her, no one could.

Shaking his head, he dropped onto the back steps and hung his head in his hands. This shit was beyond screwed up. He couldn’t kill her. It wasn’t in him. The irony of the situation was like salt in the gash in his side.

Murder was his specialty. It’s how he made a name for himself within his syndicate. All the other families knew him to be the most talented at it. Quick and efficient. Yet when Harper became his target, he wilted like a goddamn flower in the heat.

What was he supposed to do now that he’d gone soft?

The squeak of the screen door opening behind him drew his attention and tore him out of his wallowing. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Eddie looking out over the acreage of land they owned.

After a few seconds, he stepped down the stairs and sat beside Paul. He rested his forearms over his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees. He said nothing. It looked as though he were merely enjoying the view.

On a sigh, Paul slowly brought his gaze to the patchy grass-covered yard. He supposed there was enough space to have a farm if they were so inclined. That would take work, though. He didn’t have the time for that, so the land sat empty, unused, and unkempt. Just like the rest of the homes in the area.

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