Evil’s Pact by Raven Dark

7

Bonds and Brothers

An hour after Jules had left, I’m sitting on Spider’s bed with my arms around my knees. I’ve cried myself hoarse, cried until my eyes are sore and I have no more tears to cry.

Immediately after Jules left, I’d lost it. I mean, I’d really lost it. I’d done something I never would have imagined myself doing.

I’d totaled the room.

After crying for a minute, wallowing in the sense of ruination and shame that scalded my insides, anger had set in. A slowly rising tide of burning rage that swept through me, scorching the earth of my soul. I’d risen from the bed, and since there was no Spider on whom to vent my rage, I directed it at the room.

Better if it was his room and not a bedroom he was using as a guest, but it would have to do.

I’d howled and swept everything off the dresser onto the floor. The lamp smashed to the floor, papers scattering. The sudden violence, so unlike me, felt incredibly therapeutic. Were I in the Colony, I’d have received the standard lecture about how women were supposed to be poised and silent, punished for my weakness. The absence of such penance thrilled me, unleashing a rampage.

I’d swept the papers, pens, and the light sitting on the desk to the floor. Ripped out the drawers on the desk. The Bible was in there. Someone had picked it up and put it in the drawer since we were here last. I tore the pages out.

Whatever was left of my faith when we got here is gone now; I feel the last vestiges of it die a quick death.

The cross was on the wall. I tore it off.

Doubly cathartic for the blasphemy in such an act, especially since I wonder if Spider had the cross put back up to tick me off.

I tore down the drapes on the window and ripped the sheets off the bed, wishing I had a way to slice open the pillow and rip apart the mattress.

Spider will probably punish me for totaling the room when he sees it, but I don’t care. Whatever he does to me will be worth it.

After I’d left the room in shambles, I find the denim jacket Jules and Penny had given me sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. Someone had taken it off me while I was being tattooed, I guess. Anger with the club, and by association, with Jules, wells up, and I march over to the chair, snatching the jacket up. I’m about to tear it up when my eyes fall on the emblem on the back.

The gorgeous Day of the Dead skulls stare up at me in their brilliant colors, the intricately detailed patch the ladies had designed just for me.

Guilt for my lashing out at Jules stabs at me. I run my fingers over the patch, and my eyes blur with tears. I cover my mouth, choking back a sob.

The feeling of belonging to the club feels like a stone sitting in my stomach, undeserved and painful. Spider had branded me with that tattoo, and Pip had aided him by drugging me, but Jules hadn’t done anything to deserve my anger. I’m mad at Spider, at Pip, at the MC as a whole, but she doesn’t deserve that.

Humiliation over my own temper fitting of a woman of His Holy Peace sets in, the kind that makes me want to kneel at the confession box.

My gaze falls on the Bible on the floor. The guilt over my own anger tightens my gut, and suddenly, I feel torn, unsure of who I am. Torn between two worlds that refuse to mesh. The Colony is not my life anymore, but it’s still in me.

Running my fingers over the patch on the jacket, I wipe away a tear and lower myself onto the bed, clutching the jacket to my chest. I hate the club, but I can’t hate her.

Will Jules want the jacket back after what I said to her? The thought rips my heart up, and I hold the denim tighter.

Some time later, there’s a soft knock on the door. I lift my head but can’t bring myself to answer.

“Emma?” Jules’ voice sounds awkward.

Oh, God, Jules. I don’t want to face her right now. She complicates dislike for the MC that should otherwise be so easy.

“Thought you might be hungry,” she says gently. “I brought some lunch for you.”

I sniffle.

“Okay. I’ll leave it here for you.” Her voice is heavy now.

My heart goes out to her, and I sigh. Crossing the room, I slowly open the door. Jules gives me a tentative smile. My chest constricts.

Unable to look at her, I back into the room, eyes on the floor, and gesture for her to enter.

She steps in carrying a tray with a sandwich and a bottle of Coke. She stares at the torn up room with wide eyes and whistles under her breath.

My face heats, and for the first time the wish that the floor would swallow me whole isn’t directed at Spider. “Sorry. The place is sort of…” I trail off lamely.

“It looks just like Diesel’s room after he pissed Penny off when they were together,” she says as she goes across the room and sets the tray on the dresser.

The remark is so unexpected, my anger ekes away and I can’t help a broken laugh.

“Did you get all your frustrations out?” There’s no bite in her tone, and I look up at her. It’s not a reprimand. Her eyes are filled with surprise, but also compassion.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Don’t be. I’d be mad, too. Did it make you feel better?”

I sigh, going over to the bed and sitting down where I left the jacket. “For a second there, yeah.”

She nods as if she gets it.

I’m not remotely hungry, so I ignore the sandwich, but open the Coke, thanking her. When I turn to her, I catch Jules eying the jacket, and my gut clenches. “Do you… Do you want that back?” I murmur.

“Why would I?” She sits on the bed.

I shrug awkwardly and cast a look around the room, more to avoid meeting her eyes than anything else. “Well, it’s just after the way I behaved toward you… And this isn’t exactly how a tough biker chick behaves, is it? Throwing a temper tantrum?”

“Not a temper tantrum. And you’d be surprised. Snake’s an expert at dodging stuff that Dee throws at him.”

A small laugh escapes. Gosh, why does she make it so easy to love her?

“I take it you need me to work tonight?” I say with a sigh, unsure if I can stomach being in a room full of rowdy men like Spider, all of whom will no doubt waste no time pointing out the tattoo and that I’m all his now.

“Nope. One of the other girls will fill in for you,” she says. “You have the night off.”

I squeeze her hand in thanks. “I owe you. I don’t think I could handle being around the club right now.”

“I thought you could use a break,” she says, conspicuously avoiding looking at the tattoo.

“Is he back yet?” I ask tightly.

She shakes her head. “Listen, Emma, I know you’re pissed, and I get it. Be mad at Spider, but don’t blame the club. Don’t hate the MC.”

“And why not?” The words are out before I can stop them, bitterness rising up, hot and toxic. Spider dragged me into this world and trapped me here. He had me branded, but none of the men stopped it. Dragon sat there and watched what Primer did, and none of the men stopped Spider from marking me again. Pip helped him. The club made him who he is, and they made what he does okay.

“Why not?” I repeat when she just looks at me as if she’s not sure what to say.

Jules fixes me with a level stare. “The club is all a lot of the guys here know. A lot of us have demons, and the club is the only thing that allows us to fight them. It’s the only place we can go to be who we are, to feel free. It protects us from those who’d tear us down. And because when you’re in pain, the club is the best thing for you. Right now, I think this club—this family—is exactly what you need.”

I drop my shoulders. The last thing I need is for her to try to sell me on the MC right now.

“I came up here to make sure you were all right.” She stands up. “I was going to say that if you wanted time alone, I’d get gone, but I changed my mind. The last thing you need is to cut the club off and wallow.” She picks up the jacket and holds it out, ignoring my eye roll. “Put this on and come downstairs. We’ll get Penny some lunch, spend some time with her and Ben. You need to get out of this room.”

She’s not asking. There’s a firmness in her voice, a den mother’s underlying inflexibility.

Suddenly, I’m forcefully reminded of Dee. If Dee saw me trying to withdraw like this, she’d probably insist I—what was it I’ve heard her say to the girls before?—pull up my big girl panties.

I look at the jacket, what seems to have at once become a symbol of my belonging within the club, my being one of the women. I kind of hate her a little for making me want it. For making me want the only thing and the only people who have ever made me feel like I belong with them.

I click my teeth, shake my head with a begrudging smile and grab the jacket, swinging it on. “Better?”

“Come on, girl.” Jules grabs the tray and puts her arm around me, then walks me out of the room.

“I’ll have to clean this disaster up now,” I grumble, nodding to the mess of a room. It’s irritating that I feel an overpowering urge to have it shipshape before Spider sees it.

“Are you kidding?” Jules snorts. She waves dismissively at the room. “I’d leave it for Spider to walk into.”

I stare.

“What?” Jules shrugs. “He’s being a fucking asshole. Girl, you got a lot to learn. There’s only so many ways a woman who belongs to the club can give back what she gets. You gotta show him what happens when he pisses you off.”

The implications in the words sink in. A smile yanks at my lips.

I reach in and pull the door shut. Jules locks the door. I pull the jacket more firmly onto my shoulders and follow her toward the stairs.

“We’ll make you one of us yet,” Jules says, squeezing my shoulder.

Heck, this club’s going to be the death of me, isn’t it?

Downstairs, I snatch the sandwich off the tray she’s carrying, suddenly hungry. I munch on the tomato and bacon and take the tray for her, setting it on the bar and grabbing the Coke.

The room is filled with men chatting and drinking, chowing down lunch and playing cards, a few of them playing darts or watching TV. The guys in front of the TV are watching some sort of martial arts show. Sports. Something I’m not remotely into, but at least it’s not a porno.

While Jules stops to talk to Gin at the bar, since I’m not serving up drinks, I look around awkwardly, taking the last bite of my sandwich. Far too many eyes are on me, and I can’t help feeling as if the tattoo on my neck is burning into my skin under their stares and smirks. As if the collar didn’t draw enough attention. I tug self consciously on the loop at the front.

Jules takes me to the back kitchen and we cook Penny and Ben up a nice lunch of homemade chicken noodle soup with extra noodles and grilled cheese. Up in Penny’s room, we keep Penny and Ben company, watching Despicable Me. Penny drops off to sleep halfway through Despicable Me 2. Ben keeps laughing and imitating Kenny the Minion.

We leave the two of them playing Snakes and Ladders hours later.

“I’m not working until eight,” Jules says, walking down the stairs to the packed barroom with me. She leads me toward the billiard tables at the back. “I’ve got an hour before I have to start. Want me to show you how to play pool?”

“Sure.” The game has never looked interesting to me, but it’s the least I can do to make up for my rudeness earlier today. And it’ll keep me from having to think about all the eyes on me.

Jules grabs a couple of pool cues and hands me one. “I’ll rack up. You—”

The door to the clubhouse bangs open and I spin around. Dragon rushes in with Dex.

“Oh, the guys are back,” the woman with the red hair—Ruby?—runs around from behind the bar toward the door.

The guys. Spider. I gulp.

“Someone get Stitch,” Dragon orders, pushing a few guys near the door out of the way. “Now.”

Cap limps in, leaning on Reaper. Worry grabs hold of me. Stitch is the chapter’s doctor, so I assume Cap’s been hurt and needs him. He’s holding his ribs.

But Cap walks to a table leaning heavily on his cane, and when the burly doctor comes over to him, he waves him off.

Relief for Cap hits me. He’s not seriously hurt.

Cap catches my eye and my stomach tightens. I expect to see disapproval and disgust in his expression, like what I’d seen in his face after Spider made me go down on him the last time we were here. Instead, he nods and gives me a reassuring smile. The warmth in his one grey eye shines a light into the darkness of my world, and I manage a weak smile for him.

So does this mean he doesn’t hate me?

Pip holds the door open as guys from both chapters file in. Striker brings up the rear. Spider is leaning on him, his arm around Striker’s shoulders.

My breath catches. Spider’s face is white and sweaty, and he looks sluggish. There’s also a wrap around his arm that’s stained dark crimson, the cloth soaked through with blood.

“Take him to my back room,” Stitch orders, nodding down a hall to what I assume must be an infirmary like the one in Casper’s basement.

“I’m good right here, Stitch.” Spider lowers himself into a chair at a table in the middle of the room, looking tired.

Stitch scowls as if he’d rather treat Spider in a proper medical area, but he nods. “I’ll go get my kit.” He disappears down the hall.

“Where’s my Wildcat?”

All eyes turn toward the back of the room, where I’m standing frozen in place, unable to take my eyes off Spider.

When his eyes find me, I swallow at the inexplicable intensity I feel in his gaze.

“Come to me.”

The single command carries so much ownership that he might as well have said I’m his slave. My jaw clenches. The man blamed me for Primer’s attempt to assault me, implying I led Primer on, he’s made it clear that he likes hurting me, and he goes out of his way to pretend the connection we once had never happened, and now he just expects me to leap to his beck and call?

When I don’t obey his command, Jules pushes me in the back. “Go,” she hisses. “Go to him.”

Really? First she wanted me to send a message that he can’t get away with being a jerk, and now she wants me to fall at his feet? So much for feminine solidarity.

Sighing, I cross the room to him, half expecting him to order me to my knees at his feet in front of a room packed with his pals looking on. Instead, as soon as I’m within reach, he closes his hand around my wrist and almost gently pulls me forward until I’m standing right between his knees.

His fingers around my wrist heat my skin. Spider’s eyes are locked on mine. He’s staring at me as if I’m the only one in the room. There’s no accusation there, no blame. It’s as if the thing with Primer never happened.

This is bewildering. So, what, he expects me to behave as if nothing happened? The change in him makes me nervous, and I’m not sure how to handle it.

“Fuck, how are you the only thing in my fucked up world that makes sense? Save me, sweetheart.”

I swallow, the warmth in his voice wrapping around me. He’s looking at me as if I’m his savior, the only thing that can bring him back from hell itself.

The whole world falls away. There’s an almost…pleading in his eyes, a desperation to claw away from the pain I can see there, so that it feels as if he’s grasping onto me as if I’m a lifeline.

My traitorous body is drawn to him like a magnet, but I press my feet into the floor. I’d give anything for the apathy I felt yesterday, but it’s nowhere to be found. Worry for him threatens to drown out all else. I stamp it out hard, calling up yesterday’s anger, and it dampens my worry to a muted roar.

I tear my eyes away, but they fall on his arm. This close to him, it hits me how much blood there is on that cloth. Drops of it are falling on the floor. My gut clenches at the sight, fear for him skyrocketing, but he doesn’t seem to notice the injury at all. He doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“You’re hurt,” I say stupidly, since I can’t think of anything else to say.

For several seconds, he just stares at me, again as if he’s never seen me before. His eyes search mine intently, but what is he looking for?

“What?” I finally say tightly.

“Come here.” He pulls me easily onto his lap, even with only one good arm. I try to squirm free, and he pulls my knees so that they’re folded on his thigh and I’m facing him, then closes his good arm around me, pinning me against him. There’s an urgency in his grip I’ve never felt before. He cups my nape with one hand, securing me so that my chest is almost pressed to his.

“I need you here, all right?” he murmurs into my neck. “I need this.”

Oh, Lord. There’s so much pain, so much longing in his deep, growled voice that it makes my throat tighten. He sounds like him, like the man I fell for. I draw back and his blue eyes meet mine. There’s such a vulnerability in them.

Why does he do this to me? My shoulders sag. I settle onto his lap. What else am I supposed to do with his pals there?

“You’re going to need this.” Jules takes a pull from a bottle of Jack and then sets it on the table beside him, her voice flat.

And with that, the rest of the world reasserts itself. The babble of voices and the clinking of beer mugs resumes, and the sound of the TV in the background reaches my ears. Striker, Rat and some of the others are talking, and I shake myself, noticing that most of the guys Spider came in with are now gathered around the tables near us, talking amongst themselves and watching us.

Stitch comes over to the table, and Jules moves aside as he sets his medical bag down and opens it.

“Thanks,” Spider says, squeezing Jules’ arm and then picking up the open bottle of Jack Daniels. He takes a long swig. “Still mad at me then, are you?” he asks, looking up at her with a smirk.

Stitch carefully unwraps Spider’s arm and starts cleaning away the blood with wipes. Spider barely winces and takes another pull. The gash across his arm is a long one, and it looks huge to me, the blood making me queasy.

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Jules says, offering him a glass, to which he shakes his head. “Who knew Emma had a temper. You should see your room.”

“Oh, really?” Spider quirks a brow at me. Worry nibbles at me until I see his grin. His fingers toy with my nape. “Vented your frustrations, did you? Now this I would have loved to see.”

He really does like when I’m mad.

I glare hard at Jules over his shoulder. She shrugs, her eyes twinkling. She is so dead.

His fingers turn my jaw a little, and I know he’s looking at the blasted spider tat on my neck. “Looks perfect on you,” he murmurs. “Just like I thought it would.”

It’s infuriating that my stomach flutters at his praise, at the satisfied possession in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful. Too bad I didn’t have a choice.”

“You belong to me. There is no choice.” His gorgeous voice is a heady growl. “I should put another one right here.” He drops a hot kiss on my neck, just below my jaw on the other side. “No one will ever touch you now.”

I’m livid at him, blood-boiling mad, but there’s something about being his, about knowing I bear a mark that’s become his emblem that makes me feel protected and safe. I pull away from the feeling, closing it down.

“What happens when you’re done with me? What then?”

“Not gonna happen. I told you, I’m never letting you go.”

Keeping a firm hold on my anger, I focus on Stitch, who’s just finished cleaning the wound and is now setting to sew it up. Stitch prepares a needle and medical thread, something I’m not unfamiliar with.

“Shouldn’t you be freezing his arm first?” I ask the doctor, unable to help myself.

Stitch shakes his head. “This ain’t no hospital, girl. Good strong alcohol and the ability to withstand pain is all we got here. Take another pull, Spidy. Gonna get you sewn up now.”

Spider takes a long drink and sets the bottle down. “Just keep the stitches small, Doc. Don’t fuck up my tats.”

Stitch snorts. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Striker laughs. “Good to see you’ve got your priorities in check, pal,” he says to Spider.

“At least I won’t bleed all over you anymore.”

“Yeah, you bled like a skewered pig all over me.” Striker nods at his white shirt, which is smeared with blood. “This was my best tee.”

“Crybaby,” Spider grunts, taking another drink.

“Prick.”

“Pussy.”

If I weren’t so ticked off, I’d have laughed at their banter.

Stitch starts sewing up the gash. I sway on Spider’s lap and he holds me tighter, pressing my face into his chest.

I’ve sewn people up before, but maybe it’s harder to see it now because I’m too close to the situation. I hate the reminder of how close to him I must be for it to affect me so much.

“Don’t look. Just focus on me,” he says softly.

“What happened?” I ask him, hoping to distract myself.

His eyes meet mine, and for a second I think he’s not going to tell me, citing club business. Then he squeezes my nape.

“I didn’t move fast enough,” he mumbles. His eyes are starting to look a little unfocused. The bottle on the table is half empty.

“It was a close call,” Rat says, sitting at his left. “A few inches, and that asshole would have stabbed you in the heart.”

My eyes widen at Spider. “Is he serious?”

“Yep.” Spider puts his hand over his heart in a tragic sort of way, but the way his lips twitch ruins the affect. “Could have died.” He winces, a real one as Stitch’s needle works through his cut. “Imagine if I died and the last thing you felt for me was anger.”

Jules rolls her eyes behind Spider and gives the back of his head a shove. Dragon chuckles, Scar snorts, and Striker grins. Cap’s shoulders shake as he wags his head, and Pip groans.

I don’t know whether to laugh or punch Spider right now. I settle for glaring at him. “I’m not okay with this. I haven’t forgiven you, you know.”

He smirks. “You’ll never make it easy for me, will you?”

Lord, all I want to do is be furious at him, to let him have it, and he has to come back a wounded man. How am I supposed to yell at him now? Fate is cruel.

And I really have to stop calling to the Lord in my head when my life throws me another one. If there is a god, he hates me. Heck, I’m already dressing like a biker chick, maybe I should get Jules to teach me to swear like one.

As if reading my thoughts, Spider runs his fingers along the collar of the jacket, then tugs on the opening of it. “Love this, by the way,” he growls with a smile.

My cheeks heat with unwilling pleasure. “Jules and Penny did it.”

“It suits you.”

I blink at him. “I thought you’d order me to take it off and rip it in half like you did with Gin’s shirt.”

“No way. It makes you look hot.”

I roll my eyes. So Jules was right. I notice her smiling.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I ask flatly, nodding to his arm. “Please tell me it hurts.”

“Ohhh.” Striker laughs along with the others. “Someone’s salty tonight.”

Spider’s grin makes my stomach quiver.

“It does. Come here.” He cradles my nape, pulling me in. “I’ve got the perfect cure.”

Before I can respond, his lips possess mine. Furious heat shoots from my lips all the way to my toes. He groans against my mouth, and when several of the guys whoop in approval, he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping in and driving me wild. It’s strange, but it’s hot that he’s not afraid to admit the stitching hurts with his friends sitting right there.

Spider massages my nape, losing himself in my mouth, and I can’t help thinking that even if his tone had been playful, he’s seeking comfort in me. There’s an intense need in his kiss that I’ve rarely felt before.

I feel myself getting wrapped up in the kiss. Before I can drown in it, I angle my head, nipping at his probing tongue, scraping the tip between my teeth.

That should have stopped him right there. It doesn’t. Instead, he hums in approval and draws back with a grin.

Ugh. The excitement in his eyes is maddening.

He kisses my nose. His hand massages my back. He buries his face in my neck. “I could have lost you today. Again,” he whispers for only me to hear. His arm tightens around me and he groans as if he wishes he didn’t have to think about anything else but us.

It’s as if the monster is sleeping deep inside him and all there is for me is the man I fell for. Help me, I’m so doomed.

“Spidy!”

I lift my head.

Ben runs across the room toward us, his eyes filled with worry. His big blue eyes focus on Spider’s arm, and they go wide.

“Hold up, come here, tiger.” Pip grabs him and holds him back. “You gotta stay out of the way, okay? Spidy’s got a boo-boo he has to get taken care of. Let Stitch work.”

“Spidy, are you okay?”

The tremble in Ben’s voice nearly undoes me.

“I’m all good, little man. It’s just a scrape. Emma’s making it all better, see?” He pats my hip.

Ben gives me a tentative smile, and I give him what I hope is a reassuring nod. Much as I want to kill Spider for putting me in a position to feel like I have to comfort him for Ben’s sake, I hug him around the waist, as if my closeness can heal him.

Pip sits down and pulls Ben onto his lap. Ben snuggles close, watching Stitch work. He yawns hugely and his eyes close.

“Someone needs to go to bed,” Pip says with a grin. “He’s already dead to the world.”

“This is going to leave a hell of a scar,” Stitch says, drawing my attention back to Spider.

Spider looks up at him. “I’ll deal.”

“I’m not a tattoo artist, but I think I can do it so that when it heals, it’ll look like one of these skulls has a scar through its cheek.” He indicates Spider’s arm tats. “It’ll look more badass than it already does.”

“Anyone care to wager how many stitches this is gonna take?” Dragon asks, sitting at a table nearby with Ruby in his lap and watching over the proceedings. “Twenty to bet, and the winner takes the pot.”

“I say thirty,” Striker says, raising a hand.

“I say twenty-eight,” Rat says.

“Thirty-two,” Reaper says.

Scar comes over and takes a close look at the gash. “It’s a pretty big slice. Forty.”

“That’s too many.” Dragon waves his hand. “I say thirty-five.”

Scar shakes his head at him. “I’ve been put back together often enough. It’s not.”

“We’ll see.”

I stare from Spider to the others. Are these guys seriously betting on how many stitches Spider needs? Gambling already makes me uneasy, as it’s been something I’ve been taught all my life is a sin, but this is twisted.

“Anyone else?” Dragon asks.

“What do you think, Wildcat?” Spider says, scritching my nape with his fingertips. “You make my guess for me.”

Dear God, I am not okay with what this man has done, and playing along with him feels too much like letting him win.

I look up at Jules. She gives me a nod, silently telling me to play along with him. I roll my eyes again. She’s a lot of help.

“Come on, Emma,” Pip says, and when I glance at him, he’s smiling. “Give it a shot.”

I sigh. If I’m going to be a biker chick, I might as well start acting more like one. I take a look at the gash, already half sewn closed. “Thirty-eight.”

“Put me in for thirty-eight,” Spider says without hesitation.

Stitch works for a few minutes more and everyone waits. Rat rubs his hands together, and Striker counts as Stitch’s needle works on. The doctor pulls the final stitch and then snips the thread, tying it off.

“Drumroll,” Pip says.

Spider looks at the long line of stitches and nods with satisfaction at the doctor’s handiwork. “How many, Stitch?”

“And the final tally is…” He looks around and his eyes settle on me. “Thirty-eight.”

Scar gives me an impressed look. “Fuck. I was close.”

Spider squeezes my hip and gives everyone a wide grin. “Emma just won me a hundred bucks. Pay up, boys.”

Groans rise up all around and hands stretch out with twenty-dollar bills, which Spider takes with glee.

“I gotta stop letting you win my money,” Dragon grumbles as Spider accepts his twenty. “You’ll rob me blind.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Spider says, putting the bills inside his cut.

“How the hell did you know that, Emma?” Pip asks.

“I had some medical training in the Colony,” I tell him. “Usually I only assisted the doctor with wounds that big, though.”

My response is met with nods and impressed murmurs. No one looks as if they don’t believe me. The acceptance of my past with the Colony, the fact that everyone seems to believe me, warms my heart. Except for Spider. He watches me silently, and I can’t tell if he believes me or not.

The men begin to depart as Stitch wraps the wound, giving Spider instructions on how to take care of it, that the dressing needs to be changed once a day, and he should take pain meds every four hours or as needed.

“Please try to take it easy and not pull the stitches out,” the doctor drawls, packing up his medical things. “I know you won’t listen, but I have to say it.”

Spider takes a big swig of Jack. “Got it, Stitch.” He raises the bottle at him. “Got my pain meds right here.”

Stitch shakes his head and departs. Spider settles back in his seat with me. The haze of pain in his eyes tugs at my heart.

“You’re always taking one for the team, Spidy.” Dex gets up from a seat near Dragon and claps Spider on the shoulders. “Damn, you don’t even bat an eye when shit like that goes down.”

Spider squeezes his arm. “I know what I signed up for, Dex. This—that little man—is why I do what I do.” He nods to a sleeping Ben. “The club is all that protects kids like him. That’s why the club is my life.”

The words hit me hard, cracking through the ice fortress that’s still around my heart. They burn a hole through the anger I feel toward Spider for the tattoo and for what he said after Primer, making them painful, sharp things.

The protection in his voice and the love he feels for Ben is unmistakable. I’m not sure if I’m sitting in the arms of the monster or the man. Maybe it’s both. Can he be both at once?

“I’m really worried about him,” Jules says softly.

I turn to see her leaning down to Spider and looking at Ben. “He doesn’t say it, but he’s terrified.”

“Of Gary,” Spider growls. His shoulders tense and his face hardens to a frightening mask as he watches Ben sleep.

“Yeah. No one knows where he is. Ben wakes up screaming sometimes, and I know he’s dreaming about him.”

His fist clenches until I hear his knuckles crack. His other hand tightens around my waist. “Tell him not to be afraid. I will get him. He won’t come near Ben or Penny. When I find that fuck, he won’t hurt anyone else ever again.” His voice is a murderous growl, and his grip on my hip is almost painful.

I stare at his profile, my heart beating wildly. His face is dark and brutal and terrifying, and it sets off a small explosion of fire in my chest. This is the monster, this is the Outlaw. This is the bad man, and bad Spider will protect those he loves with his life.

I force myself not to look at his arm.

A few inches, and that asshole would have stabbed you in the heart.

My arms tighten of their own accord around Spider’s waist.

He protects the club, accepting death with a casualness that guts me. How long will it be before he loses his life for the club he loves?