“You want to ride on the bike with me, or in the van with Kyle and Fiona? She’s gonna make sure he’s comfortable on the drive back.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Do you want me on your bike?”
It's then I realize she’s not sure about how I feel about her. I turn her to face me, tugging on her hands. “I never got your calls or texts. That son-of-a-bitch Alex Powers got a hold of my phone and blocked you. I tried calling you and texting you a bunch of times, and you never responded.”
“I never got any of them. I tried so hard to reach you.”
“I’m betting he got his hands on your phone, too, and blocked me.”
“I’m so sorry, Rafe. I never wanted him. Never.”
I cup the back of her head and pull her forward, kissing her forehead. “I believe you, baby. And I’m so sorry for everything you went through. To think you paid this price because of what I did to that asshole. I should have killed him that day.”
“No. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
“It wouldn’t be on yours, baby. It’d be on mine.”
“That’s worse. I just want to go home. And I want to ride with you.”
I smile. “Nothing I want more. Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Tori—
Being back on Rafe’s bike is everything to me. I cling to him and get all touchy feely with him every chance I get. He falls to the back of the pack, where his brothers can’t watch us. I don’t think he was supposed to do that by some of the glares he got, but he didn’t seem to give a damn.
Usually, the van is at the back of the pack, but this time, they stay in front of us, speeding ahead.
I heard Cole tell them if Kyle takes a turn for the worst, they’re to immediately pull over.
Someone called ahead, because all the women are waiting when we pull in at the clubhouse.
The second the van pulls to a stop, Sutton and Crystal race to see Kyle.
Cole lets them have a minute, then orders the men to carry him inside and down a hall to a room with a bed. The club doctor follows.
Once she’s assured Kyle is okay, Crystal finds Fiona in the crowd and hugs her tight, rocking her while tears of relief run down her face. “Oh, my baby girl. I thought I lost you.”
“I’m okay, Mom. I swear.”
“You’re moving back home.”
“Mom!”
“Getting an apartment was a horrible idea.”
“Mom, I’m twenty-one.”
Rafe sticks to my side like glue, always a hand on me, either holding mine, touching my leg, or cupping my neck. Somehow, the boy keeps constant physical contact.
We move to the bar with everyone else, and the boys go over every detail of what happened with those who stayed at the bar.
“Pop, pop, pop.Rafe blasts the glass door. It was cool as shit,” Billy says.
Fiona appears at my side and tugs my hand. “Mind if I steal her for five minutes, Rafe?”
“Yeah, I do,” he replies, tugging my other hand. Soon it’s a tug of war with me in the middle.