Page 5 of Liberate Us (Next Generation 8)

I sighed. “My brother-in-law.”

“You’re married?” Cyrus shook his head. “If you hurt my—”

“What? No. God, no. I’m not married anymore. My husband died if you must know, but I haven’t even had this conversation with Sammy yet.” I turned toward Sam. “I’m not married. I’m widowed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said gently.

My stomach twisted. “Don’t be.” I wanted to add that my late husband wasn’t worth the sympathy but refrained and kept that thought to myself.

Sammy’s eyes searched my face. “What does Will want with you then?”

“He was a biker. Was in the same crew as Aaron, my late husband, before he went rogue. I’m still friends with some of the guys, so Will tries to get me to give him information from time to time, but I always refuse. I know what happens to snitches. That’s not me.”

“I’m going to call Jaron. Fucker shouldn’t be here without first notifying us.” Cyrus went back to his table, leaving me alone with his brother.

Sammy’s eyes burned into me, probably wondering if I was telling the truth or not. I was, but in all fairness to him, he didn’t know me well, so I wouldn’t blame him if he thought I wasn’t.

“I can feel you staring at me,” I murmured.

“I’m wondering if you’re telling the truth or not,” he said, taking the thought right out of my head.

“Trust me, Sam. I have no reason to lie. I married young because I was stupid and didn’t know any better.” A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I pushed those thoughts aside. I couldn’t have this conversation with Sammy yet. If ever at all. “Aaron died four years ago and I’ve been single ever since.” I was pushing thirty and had no intention of ever getting married again, let alone falling in love. “There’s no one stopping us from fucking. You don’t have to worry about another big bad biker cock blocking you.” I patted his chest. “It’s me. I’m choosing not to fuck you.” When I took a step away from him, his hand wrapped around my upper arm.

“How close are you with Will?”

I looked up then, being met by dark eyes I had fantasized about for months. “Why?”

Sammy’s brows narrowed. “Feeling defensive?”

I shoved out of his grip, pushing him back. “You know—”

Suddenly, Sammy wrapped a hand around my throat and pushed me back against the door that led to a storage room. He reached around me and opened the door, shoving me into the room.

“What the hell?” I demanded, pushing against his chest.

“Stop.” He slammed me up against the door, closing it behind me.

“No, Sammy, you stop.” I stepped down on his foot, pushing him back with all of my strength.

He stumbled back. “Amber.”

I glared at him. “You can’t put your hands on me whenever you feel like it. You can’t demand things of me, talk down to me, treat me like you do, and expect—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sammy grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling me toward him and shoving me up against the door. “I am not him. I am not your husband. I am not anyone you’ve ever been with.”

I scoffed. “What, Sammy? Are you going to say you’re better?”

His lips twitched. Was he actually going to smile for once? He removed his hand from my throat, brushing his thumb along the length of my jaw. “I’m not better. People come into our lives at different times for different reasons. They are not better. I am not better. I am just here.”

“That’s the thing.” I swallowed hard, knowing my next words would probably change things. “Youarebetter. I can’t explain it, but you are.”

Sammy opened his mouth to respond when a hard knock sounded on the door behind me.

“Red, Candace is looking for you,” came a feminine voice from the other side.

“Coming,” I called out. I turned to open the door when a hand slapped against it beside my head.

“Text me, Red.” Sammy’s mouth brushed along the shell of my ear causing a shiver to ripple down my spine.

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