Always has. Always will.

"I want you to come to the fight with me tomorrow," I whisper in Trinity's ear, hugging her tighter to me.

She tips her face up, cocking her head like she heard wrong. "You've never wanted me at one of your fights before."

That's not entirely true, but we're still wrapped up in my bed together. I'm not ruining the moment by arguing with her. "Well, I want you there."

She keeps staring. Hmm, maybe I need to be more convincing. "You've been such a big help getting me ready for the fight, you deserve to see the rewards." I flash my cockiest grin.

She nibbles on her lower lip.

"Hope will be there," I say, trying to encourage her.

The corner of her mouth twitches, a brief sign of disappointment. "Oh, did Rock ask you to bring me to keep her company?"

She would think that wouldn't she? "No, he didn't. I want you there as my good luck charm."

She chuckles and the sound relaxes me. "What's with you needing a good luck charm lately? Are you nervous?"

I snort. Christ, I've been taking and throwing punches my entire life. Compared to the shit I've lived through, some underground fight barely registers on my give-a-fuck meter.

Pulling her tighter to me, I look into her eyes and lie through my teeth. "I'll be so amped up after, I'll need to fuck you to come down from the adrenaline rush."

A spark of interest flares in her eyes. Of course. As much as I try to change our dynamic, sex is the best way we relate to each other.

"Me?"

Fuck, she's a pain in my ass.

"No one but you." The words come out so easy, I realize they're the absolute truth. Can she tell?

No. Trinity seems shocked and I try not to be insulted.

"Okay," she whispers.

I stand to make a fuckload of money off this fight. For myself and for my club. People will bet against me heartily. As long as I have Trinity there watching, it won't bother me a whip.

"What time do you want to leave today?" I ask, because it seems Wrath has no intention of getting out of bed.

"I don't. I think I'll do some light cardio and stuff here, and chill for the afternoon."

Surprised, I turn and peer up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I usually do a rest day before getting the shit kicked out of me."

My breath catches and I have to sit up so I can get air in my lungs.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"It justit just hit me. You could get hurt."

The bed shifts as he sits up next to me. One of his big hands slides over my lower back, soothing me. "What did you think I was getting ready for, a flower arranging contest?"

I can't summon up any laughter. "It's not funny."

"Hey, come here." He pulls me into his arms. "I've done this before. I know you think I'm a cocky asshole, but I really do know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you're an asshole," I whisper.

"Just cocky?"

"Oh, yeah."

He chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose. "How about this. I promise, I won't even let him get a shot in."

He seems so sure of himself. And I have to remember, he's been fighting for longer than I've known him.

"Okay."

"Good." He tickles my side. "You know what I do want to do today?"

"Oh, I can guess."

"Not that. Maybe later."

I punch his arm and he pretends to be seriously injured. "First, I want to eat breakfast. I'm staaarving," he says, like a dramatic five-year-old would.

"Yeah, okay. Then what?"

His gaze bounces around the room before settling on his closet. "Why don't we go out to the gun range?"

Typical. "Sounds good. I'd love to kick your ass at some target practice."

He leans over and kisses my cheek. "I'll enjoy watching you try."

After breakfast, Wrath runs upstairs to grab his range bag. I stay in the kitchen and pack lunch into a backpack, then hurry into my room to throw on a sweatshirt.

He's waiting for me by the front door when I return. "Got your gun?"

I nod to the closet where the one of the club's gun lockers is tucked away. "In there."

He cocks his head. "You should keep one in your room." He grumbles to himself and scowls down the hall.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just pissed I never thought of how unprotected you are down here."

"What are you talking about? You guys have this place wired better than a doomsday bunker."

My characterization makes him laugh.

"Come on, Angel Face." Warmth prickles over my skin at the familiar endearment. He opens the door and loops his arm over my shoulders as we walk to the garage. I soak up the crisp, fresh air and squint at the bright light. Inside the garage he stares at the ATVs and UTVs for a second. "As much as I enjoy you snuggled up at my back, let's take the Ranger. More room to store our shit."

The UTV he picked is a serious piece of equipment with six wheels and more towing capacity than most on-road vehicles. The guys use it around the property a lot in the spring.

"Give me a sec," Wrath says, holding up a finger. He jogs to the end of the garage and grabs a stack of paper targets, and a staple gun. The club keeps an arsenal stored beneath this garage, so it's not strange to find targets and ammunition stored out here. He returns, drops the stuff in the dump bed and tosses the keys to me. Surprised, I stare at them for a second. Glancing up, I catch his shrug. "I've gotten used to you driving me around."

Cute. Okay.

"Z's only let me drive this beast once," I tell him as I fire it up. He responds with a tight-lipped smile. Wrath compliments me on the way I navigate the trail with the unfamiliar vehicle. The simple, sincere comment means a lot to me. Once or twice he asks me to stop, so he can knock back branches blocking the path.

The range is no joke. Wrath and Z supervised while the prospects built the open structure last year. There are five shooting stations with benches and tables facing targets set up at twenty-five yard intervals all the way out to three hundred yards.

"What did you bring?" I ask.

His lips curl into a grin. Wrath loves his guns.

"A new Glock I picked up and a twenty gage semi-auto I wanna show you how to use."

"I know how to use a shotgun." My dad taught me when I was barely big enough to hold one.

"Good, then it'll be easy for you."

He lays out our weapons on the counter behind us. Everything lined up precise, because that's how Wrath is. He's also a stickler for range safety.

"Clear," he shouts before jogging over to the fifteen yard berm, even though we're the only ones out here. He staples a target up and jogs back.

"We'll just work on getting a pattern down on paper."

My mouth twitches in amusement. I'll humor him for now. He cracks the gun open and loads in five shells.

He jerks his head toward the gear behind us. "Grab some ear plugs and safety glasses out of my bag, please."

Of course he's well prepared. He has dozens of little packets of single use earplugs, a fancier set of professional earmuffs, and protective eyewear.

Even with the earmuffs, the shotgun blast makes me jump. At least it doesn't kick as hard as I'd expected.

Wrath runs down range to grab my target and bring it up. "Good job," he says before showing it to me.

Once I'm comfortable loading it and shooting by myself, we move on to the handguns.

Wrath pulls out a small black pistol. "This would be a good carry gun for you," he says as he hands it over.

"What do I need to conceal carry for? Going to Ward's? I hardly ever leave the property."

Wrath shrugs. "You never know."

I put a few rounds through it and hand it back to Wrath. "I don't like the aggressive texture on the grip." I flex my fingers in front of his face. "It bit into my hand a little."

He frowns, then grabs my hand, kissing the spot where the gun dug into my skin. "It fits you well otherwise. I can swap out the grip."

The simple sweet gesture tangles all my emotions. For a second I can't speak.

"Are you hungry, babe?" he asks, nodding at the picnic backpack I brought with us.

"Uh, yeah." Sure that's it.

I'm baffled by Trinity's change in mood after lunch. I thought we had a pleasant, non-sexual afternoon. She's always been a lot of fun at the range. Actually knows what she's doing, but always listens to instruction. Plus, there isn't a single weapon she's afraid of handling. If we ever ran into trouble, I'd be confident having her covering my six.

She yawns when I pull up to the clubhouse.

"Go on, I'll put everything away. Why don't you take a nap? I'll come get you around five and we'll go out to dinner."

"Hmm, that almost sounds like a date."

"Would that be so bad?"

"No," she says softly and pushes out of her seat.

I reach over and grab her hand. "Hey. Give me a kiss."

Her mouth turns up and she stretches over to give me a quick peck on the cheek.

"That wasn't enough, Angel Face. I'm going to collect later."

She chuckles and dashes up the steps.

At five sharp I'm throwing my knuckles against her door. Can't wait another second to see her. She opens it with a smile.

"Ready?"

"Almost. I, uhhad some stuff to do."

Okay. I guess that makes sense. She's been so busy tending to me she probably hasn't had a moment to do her own stuff. Whatever that might be.

She's still standing there, staring up at me. "Can I come in?"

"Uh." She hesitates then steps out, closing the door behind her. "You still want go out to dinner?"

No, I want her to let me in her fucking room "Yes. Been looking forward to it."

She hesitates. "I-"

"Meet you by the front door in half an hour."

The corners of her mouth quirk up. "Okay."

Don't know why, but I half expect her not to show. I rush through a shower and throw on some clothes, fully prepared to drag her out of her room if I need to.