My sister shot Patriot an exasperated look as there was a knock on the door. Rael peeked in, and I had to wonder how he got here so fast, but then I remembered he must know her schedule and what time her shift ended. His freaky face was still a bit of a shock. Who walked around with horror-themed makeup on their face every day like it was Halloween?
Despite that, I liked the rough biker and his twisted sense of humor. He seemed to care about my sister genuinely. His dark eyes lit up whenever she was around.
“Naomi, good to see you’re up and no longer lookin’ like a corpse.”
I flipped him off. “Can’t say the same for you, devil man.”
He chuckled and went straight to my sister, pulling her up and into his arms as he planted a kiss on Nylah’s lips. “Lookin’ a little tired, my hellcat. You work too much.”
She slapped at his arm but smiled. “Not that you’re gonna let me sleep.”
A wicked grin spread across his macabre features. “I will eventually.”
Patriot smirked.
“I just woke up. Don’t make me puke.”
Nylah giggled as Rael gripped her ass with both hands and squeezed. “Let’s go.” She yawned again, her eyes betraying far more fatigue than I liked. “I’m dead on my feet.”
“Knew it,” I muttered, shaking my head as they headed toward the door. “Get out of here.”
“I’ll text you later, Mimi.”
Waving her off, I forced myself to smile and nod. “Sure thing, sis.”
Once they were gone, I noticed Patriot staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest, bulging muscle flexing as he frowned. Something had his dander up.
“What?”
“You need to stop pretending.”
&
nbsp; “Pretending what?” I asked, dropping my gaze to my blanket.
“This charade. Not buying it, sunshine. You don’t have to be that way with me.”
Sure, he took a bullet for me, and I could still see the occasional stiff movement that proved the wound hadn’t finished healing yet. I really should thank him for saving my life, but it didn’t seem like the right time.
“I know.”
“Then don’t.”
Sighing, I tilted my head back.
“You forget I see you, Mimi.”
He did. I wouldn’t argue the point.
Patriot saw right through me since the moment my drug-addicted ass ended up half-naked in his lap. The thought of being so openly exposed was terrifying and comforting at the same time.
“WHO ARE YOU?”
“Name’s Patriot.” At my look of confusion, he managed a small smile. “I’m a Marine. Was a medic while I was in. Not so much in title as in experience and skill. Been a few years now.” He shrugged. “Figured I was the best one to help take care of you.”
“Where am I?”
“The Crossroads, our compound.” He picked up a leather vest from a nearby chair and showed me the emblem on the back. “I’m a Royal Bastard. We’re an MC.”