Elden gripped me harder.
“You are not catching a serial killer,” Elden ground out.
“So you agree that itisa serial killer,” Sariah exclaimed triumphantly.
“That’s not the point of this, babe,” I said, wincing.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
“Get on the bike, Violet,” Elden ordered.
I looked at the bikes, then at Elden. He was not amused. Not even a little. In fact, he wasreallypissed off.
Though I did want to argue about the manhandling, the over-the-top moroseness and the ordering of me around, I didn’t think this was the right time to argue with him.
“It was fun while it lasted,” I sighed, looking at Sariah with a ‘what can you do’ shrug.
She grinned. “I wish I’d recorded you dressing him down. Lost opportunity,” she sighed.
“You’re getting on the bike too.” Colby addressed Sariah, still not smiling.
Sariah’s eyes bugged out, and she put her hand on her hip. “You have ventured into a parallel universe, bless your soul,” she cooed sweetly. Then her eyes narrowed. “Oh, wait, actually no, there is no universe where you can order me around. There is no way infuckI’m getting on that fucking bike.”
Colby’s jaw worked, and I really wanted to settle in to watch the duel, but Elden was too busy directing me to the bike.
“Hey!” I argued.
“We’re not stayin’ here a moment fuckin’ longer,” he hissed in my ear. “Get. On. The. Bike.” His tone told me there was no point in arguing.
So I got on the bike.
The good thing about the bike was that you couldn’t have a conversation during the ride. Elden’s body was taut the entire time, the ride doing nothing to calm him. He waited until we’d gotten off and into the door of the house before he started speaking.
“You’re pregnant,” he seethed the second the door had closed behind us.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I replied smarmily, folding my arms over my chest. “As if the radiating heartburn and constant morning sickness weren’t enough clues.”
Apparently, he did not find that funny, pacing the small living room. “You’re pregnant and you think that investigating a fucking serial killer is what you should be doing?”
“I’m not investigating. Sariah is doing most of it. I’m just along for the ride.”
I quickly learned that that was not the best thing to say.
Elden stopped pacing, and he looked like his head might just explode. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” he asked quietly, his tone a complete contradiction to the fury in his eyes.
I pursed my lips, not answering because it was most definitely a rhetorical question.
“I’m very mindful of the conversation we had the day Swiss found out about us.”
My throat constricted underneath his powerful glare.
Elden wasn’t done. He didn’t stop glowering. “I’m very aware of the promises I made you. But you’re making it really fucking hard to keep them when you are not only provoking someone who is trying to find a way to hurt the club at the same time as trying to get close to whoever is butchering women.”
He was wound so tight he was shaking.
“Tell me, Violet, how am I supposed to think about anything, do anything else but worry about you when you’re doin’ shit like that?” There was no longer any fury in his tone. Just naked fear.
“You want to hold assholes to account for their bullshit,” he continued in a soft tone. “I understand you want to bring about action, change and justice.” He stroked my face. “Hearing even the tail end of you going toe to toe with that fuck for the club made me proud as fuck that you’re my woman.” He placed his hand on the swell of my stomach. “Not asking you to change who you are. But I’m asking you to be mindful of the reality that you’re carrying my whole world around. That you’re fucking irreplaceable. That I wouldn’t function if any harm came to you.”