Page 6 of No Perfect Love

His dark brown eyes crinkle into a smile that looks out of place on his face, and I chuckle at the swift change.

Deacon James had been one of my best friends in school, at least until we graduated. I went to college. He’d joined the Twisted Kings, an outlaw motorcycle club. From the patch that now declared him ‘President,’ he’d done well for himself.

I’m built, no doubt about it. Hours upon hours in the gym, mixed with good genetics, guarantees it. But Deacon? He puts me to shame without even trying.

I may be taller by maybe an inch, but there isn’t a chance in hell that I can take him. At least not easily. I might be 6’2” and 200 pounds of muscle, but Deacon? He has a good 20 pounds on me, none of it fat. The man is intimidating, even by my own standards. The tattoos on his head merely adds to the untouchable aura he is exuding.

“Deacon James.” I nod, trying not to skip a beat. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” he replies and then shoots a glance down to the woman I’m still holding in my grip. “But can you let go of my sister before I have to hurt you?”

“Oh shit.” I drop her arm like flames are licking up my skin, only to receive one of the darkest looks from the woman in question. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

For the life of me, I can’t remember Deacon’s little sister’s name. She has to be at least five years younger than us, and I can’t even picture her face from back then.

As soon as she is free, the woman at my side steps forward and shoves her finger into her brother’s chest, silently rebuking him.

Honestly, I feel a little bad for the man, because her rage is almost palpable. There isn’t a chance in hell of me taking my eyes off the woman in front of me. At least until I feel, rather than see, Remy step up next to me.

“What are you doing, Avery?”

That’s Avery? Fuck. She’s grown up a lot.My heart thuds, completely stopping for what feels like two beats, and I have to force myself to blink. Filing the sudden memory of her, younger, sitting in the yard next to my house away for later, I cross my arms and prepare for what I can see brewing in front of us.

Avery doesn’t seem to care that she is surrounded not only by the police, but also by most of the members of her brother’s club. Even when she should. Remy stiffens at my side, and we both take a silent count of the men in front of us. Both of us can handle ourselves, that isn’t in question. I am more concerned with the women and kids who might be caught in the crossfire.

Avery doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even blink. Instead, she pokes her brother rather ferociously and stands on her tiptoes.

“This is all your fault.” She practically snarls at her older brother. “You justhadto bring her, didn’t you.”

“This isn’t our business,” Remy whispers. “Let’s go.”

“Not a chance,” I hiss back. “She might need help.”

One man steps forward. One. He barely even breaks the invisible circle that surrounds Avery and Deacon before the impossible happens.

I prepare for Deacon to snap. For a fight. For something to happen to Avery. For her to need help.

Instead, Avery, with all of her five-foot height, takes command of the entire crowd.

“Back off, Mason.” Her words are quiet yet firm, holding enough censure that even my gut tightens. And I’m not even the one she is talking to. “This is between Deacon and me.”

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. The man, who stands almost as tall as I do, with just as much muscle, immediately pauses.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he stutters.

Dumbfounded, I look between him and Avery, trying to figure out what power she has over him. Over all of them, because none of the others step forward. Ten bikers, at least, stand there watching Deacon get his ass handed to him by his sister. Even though they have created quite a scene between the adults, none of the children are paying them any attention.

“You brought the woman who tortured me in school, Deacon. Fuckingtorturedme.” Avery shoves her brother, hard, and I take a step forward before I know what I’m doing.

“Hey,” I try to say but my voice comes out garbled. “Why don’t you come with us? We’re headed to town. We can drop you off. Get you out of here.”

Avery blinks, like she is coming out of a haze, and sighs so deeply my heart aches for her.

“Yeah.” Her shoulders slump. “I gotta get out of here.”

We all watch her walk away, cutting through a sea of children to get to a dark-haired boy that has to be a relative.

“My son,” Deacon explains when he sees my curiosity. “Everett.”

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