I hugged her. “Yeah, hopefully when things die down a little, I can get you out of here.”
“One can only hope.”
A knock on the door had us both jumping.
“I swear to God, if that’s Sabbath…” Ramona started, but I shushed her, quickly moving to the door, so she didn’t have to get up.
“Who is it?” I asked through the wood.
“It’s Sandman,” he replied, his rough voice creating flutters in my stomach.
I unlatched the door and opened it so he could walk in.
“Hey, Ramona,” he said, smiling sweetly at her. “Do you think you can give us a moment?”
She nodded and scurried from the couch, disappearing into the back bedroom.
“Everything okay?” I asked, searching his eyes for answers.
His big hands moved quickly over his dark auburn hair, gripping the wavy strands like he was trying to figure out what exactly to say.
“I just came to check on you,” he stated, his voice gruffer than normal.
“I’m okay. I’d probably be more of a mess if you hadn’t intervened when you did. Thank you for that, by the way.”
A soft smile appeared on his face, and behind that well-kept beard was a kindness most of the bikers in the club didn’t have. It was true that he was notorious for being the club’s lethal weapon, doing what others couldn’t with his own bare hands, but there was something gentle about the fierce biker, something most people didn’t get to see.
“You’re welcome.”
We stood there staring at each other for a minute before the cobwebs cleared from my muddled-up brain.
“Did you need something else?” I could tell by the way he was looking at me that there was more that he wanted to say, and my gut told me it had something to do with Snyder and Clash.Fuck me.
He shook his head. “No. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He started for the door, pausing when I cleared my throat.
“Sandman? You know, don’t you?”
He didn’t turn around and his silence spoke volumes.
“Are you going to tell him?”
He sucked in a deep breath before he turned to face me.
I saw his combat boots before I ever felt his hand lift my chin, and when I met his hazel eyes, I could see only warmth and comfort in them.
“No, Shasta, I’m not.”
I licked my lips, remembering how his protectiveness increased my attraction toward him. Now my heart was thumping wildly inside my chest, and all the danger that came with desiring someone other than Sabbath ricocheted through me like a wayward boomerang.
“Why?” I murmured, sucking in a breath when he moved an inch closer.
“Because,” he whispered, taking a step back. “I’m not a snitch.”
I don’t know why that response and the distance between us disappointed me so much. I guess I expected him to jump on the chance to kiss me like Snyder and Clash did, but Sandman wasn’t like them. He was a gentleman through and through. Besides, he was still fucking that bitch Lindy, a girl that didn’t fucking deserve a man like Sandman.
When I didn’t say anything back, too busy trying to push down the annoying butterflies that were clawing at my chest to get a piece of him, he took that as his cue to leave.
“Well, I guess since I know you’re safe, I should probably head out.”