Page 49 of The Burnt Heart

“You’re right, which is why I’m talking to you,” he chuckled softly, eyes twinkling.

“How do you keep getting so close to me?” I deflected, looking at the entrance of the alleyway. People passed by unassuming, but there was no sign of Jonah. A lick of irritation rolled over myshoulders, the muscles bunching tight. Jesse pushed off the wall with a shrug.

“Don’t be angry with him.” He interpreted my thunderous expression. “He knows I’m not a threat.”

“How many times do I have to say we are done?” I fought the urge to stamp my foot. Something about his persistence made me want to have a tantrum like a two-year-old. I didn’t wait for his answer. Nothing but time would heal the weeping wound inside of me. I had spent a lot of time healing from physical wounds. I preferred it to the endless ache in my chest. We hovered at the mouth of the alleyway, checking to make sure there weren’t any obvious threats. Jesse’s hot breath puffed against the back of my neck. Goosebumps sprang at the soft caress.

“Until the end of time, princess. Because I won’t ever give up on us.”

I couldn’t answer. I’d heard their reasoning for breaking up with me, but it didn’t wipe away the gash it’d left. Nor did it settle the fear that I had made a mistake thinking I could keep my life from touching them. They had scars because of me. My words lodged in my throat when I saw a Crimson Claw rider crawl down the street, the exhaust belching obnoxiously. The rider folded off the bike with elegance I wouldn’t expect from a biker. He pulled a helmet off to reveal ink black hair. His movements were stiff and furious as he strode into the cafe.

“Crimson Claw,” I breathed, adrenaline heating my nerve endings. Jonah pounded down the pavement, his hand on his piece at his waist. He followed my line of sight with a curse.

“Boss?” he asked, pulling out his phone in readiness. Jesse made a noise when I shook my head.

“I’m dealing with this. Here and now. They think they can threaten me in my city? Let them do it to my face. You’ll cover me, of course.”

Jesse wrapped an arm around my waist, hauling me against his hard chest. He clicked his tongue when I protested.

“I’m coming. You need more than Jonah for backup.” He slithered out from behind me, and my words shriveled on my tongue.

I didn’t dignify his statement with an answer. Instead, I stomped across the street, muttering under my breath. So much for a clean break. I had fought too hard to keep them free of my world to let him throw himself into it now. A bell chimed as I walked into the cafe, the scent of pastries hitting my nostrils. Jonah fanned out to the side, dismissing the unsuspecting patrons and identifying threats.

“Dilly’s Cafe was one of my date ideas, you know. They do great pancakes,” Jesse whispered in my ear as I picked my way toward a table at the back. I weaved my way through the mismatched chairs with a growl.

“Shut it,” I snapped at Jesse, his stifled laugh riling me further. The biker was sitting opposite a curvy brunette. Purple waves threaded through her locks. A deep scowl twisting his features. They were arguing, or rather he was spitting sharp words like blades while she sipped on a coffee.

“Julien, I know what I’m doing,” She tossed her hair back over her leather jacket, Crimson Claw sigil emblazoned on the back. Julien sneered, a white scar flashing on his upper lip. He leaned in with a frustrated growl.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Loanna. Bring Kinsley back. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

“Fuck you, I am Kinsley. Just because you can’t imagine me ever doing something without your express permission.”

This was the motorcycle club terrorizing me? The girl had a smudge of foam under her bottom lip for god’s sake. I cleared my throat, pulling my shoulders back. Things were about to get ugly.

“Everything is perfect, thank you.” Julien’s French accent was thick as he darted a dismissive glance over me. He thought I worked here? My veins were boiling, and I breathed through the indignation. The soft, smothered laughter of Jesse didn’t help my rankled nerves.

“I beg to differ. Want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in Greenich Bay?” I kept my voice low but bright, not wanting to draw a crowd. The brunette turned to look at me and her eye color seemed muted, like someone had painted it with milk. Was she blind? She grinned sharply, as if she knew what I was thinking.

“Excuse me?” Julien’s nostrils flared in his proud nose.

“Don’t play like you don’t know who I am. Your Crimson riders have been stinking up my city for too long. You should have made sure the car bomb blew me up properly, because I won’t stop coming at you until your club is in ashes.”

Kinsley covered her mouth, catching a high-pitched giggle. At my darkened expression, she flapped her hands.

“No-no, it’s not what you think,” she rushed to say, smiling apologetically. “I am totally scared and suitably threatened, or I would be if I knew who you were and what you were talking about. Can we start again? I’m Kinsley, president of the Crimson Claw Motorcycle Club.”

The girl had the cheek to stick out her hand as if I was going to pleasantly make her welcome. I exchanged an incredulous look with Jesse. He shrugged, leaning over to shake her hand heartily.

“I think it’s best if we step outside.” I knew my tone meant business, but Kinsley spluttered her disagreement.

“Oh, I absolutely would love to, but you see, I’m only in Greenich Bay to meet someone.” Her bright smile trembled when I didn’t answer. Julien used my silence to add his opinion.

“Are you kidding me, Kinsley? You can’t go gallivanting about the country without us. You need protection.”

I leaned over the table, plucking the cup from her hand and letting it clatter on the saucer. The liquid sloshed out, and she made a soft noise of dismay. She looked so soft and sweet, I wanted to crush her.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of a lovers tiff, but I wasn’t asking. Step outside. Now.”

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