Page 115 of Cold Hard Truth

“I was right.” Tipping my head back, I moan as he sinks his teeth into me. “I’m not the death of you, Sage Jackson. You’re the death of me.”

Sage grabs the choker around my throat and looks down at me. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Lyla.”

“That’s not what—”

“Don’t say it’s in the fucking cards. I don’t want to hear it right now. You’re all that matters to me. And I’m telling younothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it. You’re mine, and I’m going to protect you.”

“I’m yours?” It’s impossible to bury my smile.

I’m strong-willed. I’ve never needed to belong to someone. And I have no problem telling Sage exactly what’s on my mind or pushing his buttons if I’m so inclined. But there’s something about how his hips pin me to the refrigerator. How he claimed me in front of all his friends. How he accepted my father’s punch to officially claim me as his—makes me want to be that.

Forever.

“Good.”

Sage picks me up and kisses my acceptance from my lips. He kisses me as the pieces are put in place. The universe setting itself into motion.

He can deny it all he wants, this love of ours is going to do exactly what the cards promised. But I keep that to myself for his sake.

I sink into Sage’s embrace with the eyes of the universe watching us.

Destiny is coming full circle.

Ready to seal my fate. Accepting what comes, even if there’s no preparing for it.

37

Lyla

Pulling up to theneighborhood, my mind is flooded with memories of the past.

Running around playing house with Ellie and Reed. Planting flowers in the front lawn, sneaking around places we weren’t supposed to go, sitting on the porch scribbling while waiting for Sage to come back from a run.

It was a whole other life we lived on this land—so close and so far away.

Dirt plumes behind the bike, and I tighten my grip around Sage’s waist as he rolls to a stop in front of his dad’s old house in the neighborhood.

Climbing off the bike, I peel off my helmet and stare up at it. The gray paint is chipping, and the roof is patched. It hasn’t been well cared for. But looking down the street, I realize it’s not alone. This street is more of a ghost townthan the heart of the Twisted Kings compound as it used to be.

The street was filled with laughter and kids. Wives would sit on the front porches sharing drinks and watching them run around. The paint was bright, and the air smelled like fresh-cut grass.

Sage and I aren’t the only things that have gotten older.

Most of the houses on the street look like they’ve been empty for years. Shingles are missing and paint is peeling. A window on a nearby house is boarded up, and the front steps look like one foot would have me falling through the planks.

The street is empty. It’s dusty and deserted, and it has me shivering.

“It’s so quiet.”

Sage takes my hand, guiding me up to the front door. “The families moved off the compound. The guys said it was so they could be closer to the city, but I think their wives just wanted to get farther away from here.”

“And this place has been empty ever since?” I ask as Sage unlocks the front door and opens it for me.

“For the most part.” He stops inside. “I crash here from time to time. But not much these past couple of years.”

Stepping through the front door, I’m dragged back in time. The same hideous green couches are in the living room, and the same pictures hang on the walls. My heart swells at the photo of Sage hanging right inside the door. He’s a little kid—much younger than when I first met him, and his eyes still have the sparkle of innocence.

Walking through the house feels like another life I could have lived. One where I’d stuck around and given in to my destiny of falling for a biker. We could have built a family on this street. One I’d look after while he was a Twisted King.

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