Page 82 of Fury

“I wish I could get on the back of your bike and go to Nebraska and stroll into your clubhouse with you, but I can’t. I’m sure they’re suspicious already. It’s been months of you not bringing anyone around or screwing around. You disappearing whenever you can.”

“They know that’s me. That I keep mostly to myself. That’s how shit’s been for me since I got out from under the Guns. They get it.”

“They may get it, Finger, but I guarantee they don’t trust it. You’ve got them curious. And now with Med accusing you in front of everybody? Maybe that curiosity will change to outright suspicion. It’s only a matter of time until they dig a little deeper and find us together. They’ll find something.”

His one hand fisted in my hair and pulled. He glared at me. Confusion. Irritation. “What the hell are you trying to say? What are we supposed to do? Give up?”

“Not give up, but maybe—”

“No.”

“No?”

“NO!” he exploded. “No fucking way. I’m not giving you up for anyone or anything.” His voice thundered. “Not even for you!” His dark eyes were fierce. “Why are you talking like this? You giving in?”

“I’m not giving in. I’m being smart.” I gulped in air. “It’s just...not good.”

“What? The situation?” He released his hold on my hair. “Of course it’s not good.”

“It’s just so damned difficult.”

“Difficult? Is that what’s climbed up your ass? Difficult? Everything is difficult in this life. Every fucking thing.”

I touched the hard edge of his jaw. “I feel like we have some sort of expiration date hanging over us. And we keep managing to push it back a little here and a little bit there, but how long can that last?”

“Serena—”

My fingertips brushed his lips. “We’ve killed people to be together,” I whispered.

He snatched at my hand, crushing it in his. “We’re surviving.”

My fingers throbbed in his steel grip. Surviving. Agony was entwined in that word, and a desperation that I knew so well. I’d been surviving for a long, long time. But now, with Justin, it was another kind of pact, a better, richer promise. And suddenly, there was more at stake.

“How many more victims will have to pay the price for our survival?” My fingers curled around his. “There will be more, you know there will be. I’m always looking over my shoulder.”

“You’ll always have to. Unless maybe you move to some shack in Greenland. Is that what you want to do?”

“Why not?”

He released my hand. The skin was red.

“But you couldn’t go,” I said. “You’re a Flame. A Flame through and through.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not. But what we’re doing to survive is at odds with your life as a Flame. One day, things will get out of hand, and then what? How much more brotherhood are you going to have to sacrifice in the name of us? You’re heading for a crucifixion by your own hand.”

“I was already crucified,” spilled from his lips. “With you I got my resurrection.”

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close, my heart galloping in my chest.

He whispered roughly, “Don’t talk like this. I don’t know who I am without you.”

“Maybe you should find out.”

The side of his scarred face stroked my cheek. He planted a kiss on my neck. “I love you, baby. I need to love you.”

Those three words. Simple, complicated, glorious, insane. I breathed them in. They’d never been given to me before. Not like this, not ever. I kissed him. A delicate, gentle kiss, sealing the vow between us.

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