"I was coming out to find you and Blaze ..." I tell her everything in a rush, not taking a breath as I explain.

"f.u.c.k. I'm gonna kill those f.u.c.kers," she growls.

"The guys?"

She smirks. "f.u.c.k no. The boys are dealing with those a.s.ses. I'm talking about my security. This s.h.i.t isn't supposed to happen here, and they d.a.m.n well know it." She pulls out her phone and types something then sets it down.

"What are they gonna do to them?" I ask. My head and jaw hurt, but I've had worse, and I'm not about to let it get to me.

"Teach them a lesson, ban them from the club." She shrugs. "Who knows what else?" Just like they did with Griff. A shiver quakes me. "It's my fault. I should have told you to stay in the back or call me if you wanted to come out." Princess moves to the chair behind her desk and takes a seat.

"You couldn't have known," I tell her because there is no way she should blame herself for the actions of a few morons. "I'm sure it'll all work out, right?" I don't know if I am trying to rea.s.sure her or myself at this point.

"I'll have to f.u.c.k up security again. Motherf.u.c.ker." She picks up her phone, speaks into it, and then slams it down to the holder. "Blaze is coming."

I nod. "Why 'again'?" I can't help asking.

"When Blaze danced, she had an a.s.shole jump up on stage and tackle her. Tug took care of the guy, and I upped security, or so I thought." I don't process most of what she says. I'm stuck on the Blaze dancing part. She's beautiful, and I bet she brought home a serious amount of cash. I don't ask, though, even if it's on the tip of my tongue to do so.

The door burst open behind me, and I leap to my feet, dropping the ice pack to the ground. Rhys stands at the door, heaving with blood dripping from his hands.

I clutch my hands together and put them against my chest, knowing his mood is anything but happy.

"Come here," he orders, the rise and fall of his wide chest and flaring nostrils freaking me out. He's so p.i.s.sed right now I'm not sure I should go to him, so I hesitate. "Sprite," he says tersely.

I can't stop my feet from moving toward him, my body trembling the whole time. Not that I believe he would hurt me; it's just the first reaction. After James and then what just happened, I can't stop the fear.

His hand cups my chin, turning it so he can look at where the a.s.shole punched me. I have no doubt it's red.

"It should mix in well with all the other fading bruises." I wanted my tone to come out teasing, but it's more flat, and Rhys hears it.

"f.u.c.ker won't touch you again." He pulls me roughly into his arms, and I wrap mine around his back, barely able to meet my fingers.

The nerves that were spiking uncontrollably begin to settle at his touch as I burrow myself into him, my face in his neck. I soak every bit of comfort I can from him and let his strength settle me.

His hand moves up to my hair, leaving fire on my skin as he threads his fingers through my tresses. I wince at the touch.

"f.u.c.ker pulled hard?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if I left some on the floor out there." My words come out m.u.f.fled into his neck, but I'm not ready to move yet. I want to stay right here in his warmth.

I ignore all the warning bells going off inside of me, telling me this is a bad idea. I shouldn't feel this way with this man. Nevertheless, I cast it all aside and soak in the moment with him.

"I'll kill that son of a b.i.t.c.h." Those words make me move quickly.

I look into Rhys's eyes that are filled with so much clouded anger I'm not sure I could help him at this point. "You can't kill him. You'll go to jail," I whisper, moving my hand to his face then stopping myself. He doesn't like to be touched there, I remember. I place my arm back around his waist.

Princess laughs from the other side of the room, but says nothing.

"You let me worry about those d.i.c.kheads. I swear to you, they will never get near you again."

I burrow my head and inhale deeply. Rhys smells like wind, outdoors, and plain out sin. I can't get enough of it.

He pulls my head out the crook of his neck and kisses me hard. I don't resist falling into the hungry kiss and enjoying every second of it. When he pulls away, I whine. I want his comfort. I want him.

"Sprite, stay with Princess for a bit. I'll be back in a few, and you're on the back of my bike." He kisses me again, releases me, and like smoke, vanishes quickly.

"Well, f.u.c.king h.e.l.l," Princess says.

I stare at the door, willing him to just come back and hold me, but he doesn't. Instead, I grab the ice pack and put it on my face.

I look up into Princess's dancing eyes. "What?" I fall down into the chair, my legs sprawled out and head resting on the cushion. My head feels so heavy.

"Sister, Rhys doesn't put women on the back of his bike. Ever." None of this means anything to me, so I stare at her. She shakes her head, coming closer to me. She stops, her eyes squinting in thought. "Remember I told you about biker hard?"

How the h.e.l.l could I forget? It scared the s.h.i.t out of me.

"Yeah."

"Part of biker code is only allowing women on the back that they choose. Rhys doesn't allow any woman on the back of his bike. In all the years I've known him, I've never seen him take one."

My eyes narrow. "And this is some big deal?"

Princess chuckles. "Tanner, are you ready to be Rhys's ol' lady?"

I still, my body not even taking a breath. Princess has lost her mind.

"I'm only here for a bit longer. I'm sure the funeral is in a couple of days, and we'll have to head back."

"Whatever you say, but don't say I didn't warn ya."

MOTHERf.u.c.kING PIECE OF rat s.h.i.t. I grip the pleading man's hair and pull as hard as I f.u.c.king can, wanting him to feel the hurt he put on Tanner.

His screams do nothing to stop the thunderstorm inside of me. I want his flesh. I want him a quivering f.u.c.king mess. I want him dead.

I pull the f.u.c.ker hard again as Dagger begins his a.s.sault on the a.s.shole's ribs and stomach. Nothing like having the full wrath of both Dagger and me come down on you. I don't f.u.c.king care. Cruz and GT are taking care of this a.s.shole's friends, leaving him to us.

"Don't ever f.u.c.king touch my daughter!" Dagger unleashes blow after blow, the man getting limp in my arms.

His hair begins to tear in my hands as his weight plummets to the ground. I rub the hair in between my fingers then throw it to the ground, giving him three hard kicks to the ribs.

"Enough," Pops calls from the sidelines. f.u.c.k, didn't even hear him walk up.

I stop my foot mid-kick and set my booted foot to the black-topped ground. There's nothing like beating a guy in the parking lot.

"Get the f.u.c.kers' IDs and leave them."

"Just let me end him," Dagger says to Pops.

"You don't think he knows he f.u.c.ked up? Look at him. He's got f.u.c.king dress pants and loafers on. He's learned his lesson." I hate it when he's right, but the chances of this a.s.shole coming back are slim to none.

Dagger kicks the guy in the face, his head snapping back hard. No sounds come from him; he's out cold.

Fine. I grab his wallet, taking all the cash, which is a pretty good wad, and grab the ID. I'll have Buzz track the f.u.c.ker and make sure he doesn't come close to Ravage or Tanner again.

Cruz and GT hand me the cash they pulled with the IDs.

"Why the f.u.c.k you giving that s.h.i.t to him? She's my kid." Dagger's eyes narrow. He's itching for a fight. He didn't get enough of his frustrations out on these a.s.sholes and still has it pent up. I've known Dagger for-f.u.c.king-ever and know exactly what he needs.

I shove the bills and plastic in my back jeans pocket and stand tall, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Because Tanner's f.u.c.king mine," I say before I even think about what I'm saying. It wasn't what I intended to come out, but it's out there.

"Yours?" Dagger scoffs. "For how f.u.c.king long? A day, two? f.u.c.k you," he barks back. To be straight, his words don't bother me. If anything, it's the truest he's said, but under the dark veil of night, with Dagger's blood pumping, I egg him on.

"Until I'm f.u.c.king done with her." This is an a.s.shole-ish thing to say when, the truth is, I'm not sure I'll ever get enough of the strawberry blonde.

"You p.r.i.c.k." Dagger comes at me full force, and I let him get a couple of punches in before I fight. He and I go head to head, the crack of flesh against bone echoing through the dark. Sure, he hits hard, and I'll have some serious bruises, but I hit him just as hard, leaving the same marks. This is good, old-fashioned fighting: no guns or implements, only our hands and fists. I f.u.c.king love it.

"Stay away from my daughter," he roars, giving me an uppercut.

I repay him with the same. "No."

"You f.u.c.king hurt her, and I'll tear you apart," he growls at me and I smile. Seeing Dagger go all dad is seriously different, but I know everything coming out of his mouth is out of his pent up frustration.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

Our blows continue to ensue. I can see the moment when Dagger has released the anger, and I back off.

"Oh, my G.o.d!" Tanner's voice has my eyes swinging to the door. Her face is wide in shock as tears well up in her beautiful eyes. "What are you doing?"

Princess trails behind her with her hands up in the air. "She's stubborn as s.h.i.t. Could have subdued her, but what's the f.u.c.king point?" she says in her defense.

Tanner rushes up and stands between Dagger and me. "Don't do this. Why are you doing this?"

Dagger has full-out calmed himself, the fire in his eyes dying down to an ember. "Tanner, relax," he tells her.

Her eyes grow cold. "Relax? You want me to relax? My father and ..." She looks at me, the wheels turning in her head as she tries to explain our relationship.

f.u.c.k it. I do it for her. "Man."

She shakes her head. "Whatever are beating the h.e.l.l out of each other in a parking lot. What is going on?"

I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush with my body as Dagger steps forward, a small smirk playing on his b.l.o.o.d.y face. "It's good, Tanner. Rhys was just helping me get some s.h.i.t out."

Tanner's body tightens in my arms, and I squeeze harder.

"By hurting each other?" She shakes her head.

Dagger's hand comes to Tanner's face, and she stops moving as he looks down at her. "I know you don't get it, and that's okay, but everything is fine." Dagger looks up at me, lifting his chin. "Thanks, brother, I needed that."

I just lift my chin in recognition.

"I don't understand you at all," Tanner says, putting her weight into me, and I take it.

I lean down to her ear. "Sprite, everything is fine."

Her head turns to mine and she gasps. "Oh, G.o.d, you're bleeding." She tries to scramble out of my arms, but I don't allow her to move.

"It's all good."

"But ..." she sputters. Then I can feel her back straighten. "Come inside so I can clean you up." She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the building. I allow it because she needs to have the break, and I truly need to get cleaned up before we head back to the clubhouse. If the cops stop me looking like this, I'll be pulled in for questions.

X is still pumping, the dancers on stage doing their thing. For as tiny as Tanner is, she sure makes a quick path, taking me back to the dressing room. I lift my chin at Doug the guard at the curtain who says nothing as we pa.s.s.

"Oh, my G.o.d, Rhys!" One of the brunette dancers rushes up to me, placing her hand on my arm. Tanner says nothing, but the tick in her cheek tells me all I need to know. I brush the b.i.t.c.h off and move to the bathroom. Tanner follows and looks under the stalls while I lock the door. She says nothing of the confrontation, but I can tell she wants to.

"Yeah, I f.u.c.ked her. I've f.u.c.ked most of the women here. They're easy." I have no issues with my past. Why should I? I am who I am.

"Whatever. Sit." She points to the counter, and I quirk my brow. It's cute how she thinks she's going to tell me what to do, but I appease her and sit. f.u.c.k, this woman has me in knots.

She grabs paper towels, wetting them, and then begins to swipe the blood from my face. I watch her intently, noting each movement as she works wordlessly.

The redness on her cheek is beginning to bruise. It'll be nasty in the morning, but I've unfortunately seen her with worse.

Her brows narrow as she takes in each cut and scar on my face and neck. My tattoos hide most of the scars, but when someone is up close, they aren't hard to miss. Each one of those scars made me the man I am today and don't bother me in the least.

"Wash your hands," she orders, stepping back from me and throwing the wad of towels into the trash.

I hop off the sink and wash them. They burn, but no matter. I blot them off with the paper towel she's holding, and I can tell the gears in her head are moving so fast I swear smoke will come out of her ears at any moment.

"I get it," she says quietly.

I toss the towel away then lean my hip on the sink, giving her time to sort whatever is in her head out.

"He was p.i.s.sed. Judging from the guys lying on the ground, it didn't help him, so you did." Her emerald eyes meet mine, shining. "You helped him." I shrug. "Don't do that," she orders and steps into my s.p.a.ce. I uncross my arms and put my hands on her luscious hips. "You fought with him to let him get it out. It's strange, but I get it."

I pull her into my arms, her face resting in my neck, her arms around my waist. I'm learning fast that this is one of my favorite positions for her.

"It's good, Sprite. He needed to get it out."

"And you just let him ..." Her voice trails off with a slight tremble. I squeeze her tightly and feel the wetness from her tears. .h.i.t my shirt. f.u.c.k me.

"Sprite, it's okay."

She shakes her head, her hair rustling back and forth as I glide my hand up and down her back. Crying women is really not my thing, but with Tanner, my body just knows what to do.

I let her have her time, getting out everything that happened throughout the night. Once her body is boneless against mine and I'm holding all of her weight, I pull away and look into her red-rimmed eyes. She sniffles.