Page 79 of Cold Hard Truth

25

Sage

Crew stops beside mewith Echo caged in his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of her head before she slips away to meet Lyla, Fel, and Reed. They’re standing at the railing that overlooks the lower level of the club.

“Look at you two letting your girls out of their cages for once.” Crew takes a sip of his drink, glancing from me to Jude.

“Did you just compare my wife to a hostage?” Jude glares.

“I mean, she’s stuck with your ass for life, might as well be.” Crew shrugs.

“And Echo’s not stuck with your stupid ass?”

Crew grins. “Don’t worry about my Goldie, I keep her plenty happy.”

Like she senses Crew staring, Echo glances back at him and winks.

“Besides”—Crew turns to me—“I’m not the one with my girl on literal lockdown.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I play dumb.

“You think I don’t know what’s in that choker she’s wearing. I was the one who helped Kane commission those from one of my buddies.”

“What is it?” Jude asks.

“A tracking device.”

Jude tips his head back and laughs. It’s so big and bold that it has Fel’s attention moving to us because he’s never amused.

“You low-jacked your girl?” Jude rakes his hand through his hair. “That’s funny shit.”

“It’s not how it sounds.”

Crew hitches an eyebrow at me.

“Fine, it’s a little how it sounds.” I shrug, sipping my beer. “But it’s for her own good.”

“All right, psycho.” Crew shakes his head. “And you two think I’m insane.”

“You’re both insane,” Jude decides.

Maybe we all are. But as I glance at Lyla, standing against the railing as she bounces to the music, I don’t give a shit. I’m not letting anyone hurt her, even if it makes me unhinged for tracking her every movement.

Her long black hair is down, waving around her shoulders. She’s wearing a skintight purple top that still manages to dull in comparison to her violet eyes. It hugs her chest, dipping low in the front, but covers her back completely, hiding the scars that run the length of her shoulder blades. And she’s paired it with a pleated blackskirt and Doc Martens, showing off every inch of her smooth legs.

This girl is my fucking fantasy. Everything I’ve ever wanted and never deserved.

When she’s around, it doesn’t matter what’s falling apart. She’s the balance at my center.

Lyla tips her head back and laughs, glancing over her shoulder at me. Her eyes pull the air from my lungs. They dim the lights in the room. They level me.

“Careful.” Crew leans in. “You’re starting to look like us.”

“Whipped?”

“Exactly.” He grins.

At least he’s unapologetic about it.

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