Page 11 of Tater
“Sloppy,”it hissed.
“Yeah,” she thought back. “We got shot. Cut us some slack.”
“What did they do with it?” she asked aloud. “Post it to YouTube? ‘Watch crazy bitch LARP as dragon’?”
“Not yet,” Eagle said. “Far as we know, it’s just their little trophy for now. A reminder they saw under your skin.”
“And a reminder they know what you are,” Tater added.
She let that sink in.
It wasn’t like her being a dragon was a secret exactly — not anymore. Rumors had been moving down highways for months. But rumors were one thing. Footage was another. Rumors made you a myth. Footage made you a target.
“Could be worse,” she said finally. “They could’ve caught me on camera crying. That’d really ruin my rep.”
“Ren,” Tater said, more warning in his voice now.
“What?” she snapped. “You want me to freak out? Start sobbing? Admit I’m scared? Newsflash, Baby — I’ve been scared since the first time that thing under my ribs decided to set a man on fire for slapping me. I just got real good at acting like I wasn’t.”
Silence settled over the room, heavy and close. The fluorescent light buzzed, flickered once, then steadied.
Tater sat back down in the chair, rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger.
“You left your chain,” he said quietly. “On the floor. Outside my door.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I was there.”
“You know what I thought when I saw it?” he asked. “First thought?”
“That I finally came to my senses?” she said, trying for a smirk that didn’t quite land.
“That you were gone,” he said. “Not for a ride. Not for a night to cool off. Just… gone. Out of us. Out of this.” He shook his head once. “I’ve taken bullets, broken bones, buried brothers. None of that hit like that stupid little noise your chain made when I picked it up.”
Ren’s chest tightened in a place that had nothing to do with cracked ribs.
“Then I realized you’d taken your bike,” he went on. “Then Eagle checked the cameras, saw you roll out alone. Then we heard the shots on the wind.”
He didn’t have to say the rest. She’d felt it — that storm in him, even unconscious.
“I wasn’t leaving the club,” she said. “I was leaving the conversation.”
“You could’ve just yelled at me like a normal person,” he said.
“What, and risk turning your office into a bonfire?” she said. “I was trying to be considerate.”
Eagle snorted softly. “That’s her version of considerate, huh.”
“Shut up, bird boy,” she muttered.
He smirked, but there was no heat in it.
Tater’s hand found hers on the blanket, fingers careful but firm. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, rough skin warm.
“I’m not gonna lie and say you didn’t scare the hell out of me,” he said. “Or that what happened out there didn’t piss me off. But I’m not saying any of that because you’re a ‘liability’ or a ‘problem’ or whatever word Eagle was throwing around.”
Eagle lifted his hands. “Hey, I’m right here.”
“I’m saying it because every time you go down, the whole club feels it,” Tater said, ignoring him. “And because I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t know how to breathe without you anymore.”
