Page 11 of Obliterate

She sniffles, shaking her head. “C-can we go somewhere? A-anywhere… I just don’t want to return to the clubhouse right now.” Her voice is so broken, so defeated, it breaks my damn heart.

“Yeah, anything you want… I got you.”

CHAPTER THREE

Ingrid

My insides are shaking.

But at the same time, I am completely numb.

The only thing making me feel anything right now is the warmth of South’s arm wrapped around me as we walk to the café attached to the medical suites. He’s not saying anything, simply holding me tightly as I try to come to terms with this. Sniffling back, I wipe at my face and let out a steadying breath.

You have got to pull yourself together, Ingrid.

Rolling my shoulders, I stand a little taller, my eyes shifting to South’s as we make it to a booth in the café he brought me to, and he ushers me into the seat. I slide in, and he doesn’t waste a second shifting beside me.

I sink into the soft seat, closing my eyes for a brief moment, gathering my strength, inhale, and then open. “Okay, I’m okay,” I finally speak.

He purses his lips, tilting his head. “You’re Ingrid Ladet, you’re strong as fuck, of course, you’re okay. But, if you want to get off your chest what happened in there, I’m a real fucking good listener. And if you just want to grab a coffee, something to eat, and sit here in silence, I’m good with that too. Whatever you need.”

How can this young man be so fucking sweet and exactly what I need right now? Somehow, he’s soothing me, helping me to feel at ease, and I don’t know if that calms or terrifies me. But either way, he’s all I have to count on right now.

“Let’s grab a coffee. I could do with a pick-me-up.”

He grins in that roguish way he does. “You got it.” He throws his hand in the air, hailing the waitress over.

She walks up to the table, her eyes wandering South up and down, admiring his bad-boy persona. For added seduction, she brings her pen up to her lips, twirling it around. “What can I get ya?” she sing-songs, her eyes focused solely on South.

“Latte?” he asks, his eyes never leaving me.

“Sounds great.”

“Two Lattes, thanks. Oh, and can you bring some fries? Curly ones, if you have them, with ranch.”

I glance at him as the waitress nods. “Sure thing, anything else?”

“You want anything to eat, angel. You should eat,” he demands but then backs off with, “Or you could share my fries?”

“Not hungry, but thank you. That’ll be all.”

“Gotchya. I’ll be right back.” The waitress grins at South, spins, and wiggles her ass for added emphasis as she saunters off. It’s wasted, though, because South’s fussing about with his cell, not taking one scrap of notice of the poor girl who’s vying for his attention.

I shake my head, sitting back. “You’re oblivious, aren’t you?” I mumble, and his head snaps up, looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Ahh… to what?” he asks, confused.

I tilt my head toward the waitress who’s now behind the counter but glancing our way as often as she can. “Server Sally over there. She wantseverythingyou’re offering.”

South snorts out a laugh. “There’s no offerings on the table. Not for her anyway.”

“That’s a shame. I think you’re in with areal chancewith that one.” I smile at him, his eyes locking with mine as he exhales.

“She’s not my type.” His words have meaning, and it hits me in the chest. A shiver runs down my spine at how he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me, making me feel something I haven’t felt for years.

Since the last time a biker swept me off my feet.

When I met Reaper, it was a whirlwind.

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