Page 43 of Diesel
I resist the urge to put my fist through the wall or to shake some sense into him. Maybe even scream into a fucking pillow. “That’s not how this works. Not anymore. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself like you’re on some noble quest to keep me breathing.”
He doesn’t say anything now, just stands so still he looks like a statue. I shove his chest, wanting, needing some kind of reaction from him. He goes back on a foot but doesn’t move otherwise. That just pisses me off more “Fuck you. Fuck you all the way, Zane.”
He reaches for me, but I stumble back. If he touches me, I’ll fold and I want to keep my anger.
“There is no scenario in which I’m going to stand there and watch you bleed for me.” The words are dragged out of his throat like he’s measuring his temper with each one.
Anger pulses hot through my veins. “But you expect me to do that? You expect me to sit by and watch the only person who has ever given a shit about me give his life in place of mine?”
“Yes.”
I scoff then throw my hands in the air. “If you wanted someone compliant and obedient, then you shouldn’t have married me. I am not a pathetic damsel who needs to be shielded from the world. I already know it’s bad out there, Zane. I already know how much worse it can get. So, no. You don’t get to throw yourself on a blade meant for me, unless you expect me to do the same for you.”
I’m breathing heavily, my lungs aching as if I’ve run a marathon and not stripped myself bare to him.
His jaw works, his eyes narrowing before they narrow further. He’s trying to understand, but all he sees is this is his job. That his sole purpose is to keep me safe. And I hate it. Because he’s not my fucking bodyguard. He’s my partner. My soul.
“I don’t know how to do this without—” He breaks off, as if he can’t bear to say the words ‘without you’. There’s abeat of silence while he recalibrates. Then he says, “I don’t know how this plays out and that terrifies me.”
My stomach fills with ice. He always has a plan, always knows what’s going to happen. This… this is uncharted territory for both of us.
“We’ll figure it out.”
He stares at me, like he’s mapping my face. Like he thinks he may never see it again. “I’m trusting men who all have one finger on the trigger. Everyone is paranoid and has a lot to lose. But Nic. He’s trying to build something I think we could make a life in. A place that’s safe for families again, for old ladies. Something we should’ve had from the start.”
“And you trust him to do it?”
He doesn’t speak for a moment, his brain doing that slow analysis he always does when the stakes are high. “Yeah. I do. He was my mentor when I first came to the club. I know what kind of man he is, or I hope I do.” He takes a breath, and I hold my tongue, waiting for him to finish whatever thought he’s having. “I need to make sure that the world around us holds you with the same care I do.”
My heart flutters. I don’t know how he’s so sweet even when he’s not meaning to be. “So what do we do?”
“Nic wants me to come in properly. There’s a safe house we’re using. The other old ladies will be there under protection. I need you where I know you can’t be touched.”
My stomach drops. “You’re locking me away?”
He shakes his head, grabbing my face between his hands. Desperation flashes in his eyes, a plea for me tounderstand. “No. Fuck no, Kenna, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m bringing you into the fold, but you can’t be on the battlefield with me. So while I’m fighting for this, I need you where I know nothing can touch you. And that’s not here.” He glances around the apartment. “Not anymore.”
“You’ve been protecting me since I was seven years old. But I’m not that scared little girl. I can fight for you too.”
“I know, but there are some battles that aren’t yours, firefly. This is one of them.”
I want to argue, but I know it won’t make a difference. There are some things he’ll never bend on, and I just need this over with.
“Okay.” I close my eyes, grateful he’s not shutting me out again, that he’s letting me stand in this with him, even if it is on the sideline.
He kisses me slowly, as if he’s trying to savour every moment our lips touch. I melt into him, my emotions mixed, my fear and anger swirling alongside uncertainty and confusion.
“I don’t know if I’ve done enough yet to make you trust me again,” he murmurs, “or to make you love…” He stumbles over the word and repeats it with more certainty. “To love me again, but I swear everything I did was because of how deeply I feel for you.”
Oh. The way he says it, like he’s trying to understand human nuances, makes my chest ache. It’s hard to be pissed at someone who doesn’t think in straight lines. Zane’s always worked outside the box, always seen things in black and white. It makes it hard for me to hold on to that righteous feeling.
I grip his shirt, letting the feel of him anchor me. “Forget about the past. I need you focused on what you’re doing now. No distractions.” He peers down at me like I’m the only thing that matters. “And I’m not going anywhere. We have things we need to sort out, sure, but we can do that once this is over. Once everything is back to normal.”
“You really think anything will ever be normal in our lives?”
I smirk. “Probably not.”
He squeezes me before reluctantly letting me go. “Grab what you need. Only the essentials.”
